#if they do i simply will not come accept when they try to hire me 🫶

[15000bugs]

week two of work 😁😁😀

[nonotnolan]

Swap Broker: Social Climbing

Seeing James in a suit, Clay suddenly felt a bit self-conscious about scheduling a meeting at his modest apartment. The car that James drove was probably worth more than this entire building. Still, that was part of why he was hiring James in the first place. Clay was trapped in the lowest income tiers of society, and upward momentum was unheard of. He didn't regret dropping out of high school to take care of his younger brother when their mother passed-- their father had never been in the picture-- but now that his brother had a full ride to college, it was time to take care of himself for once. If he wanted any sort of life outside of minimum wage retail work, he was going to have to take drastic action.

"Legally, I have read you a few disclaimers before we begin," James said, pulling out some papers from his briefcase. "You are purchasing my services as a swap broker. This does not guarantee that I will be able to match you with another customer, and some customers may request additional payment. My servicing fees must be paid up front and in full. The body real estate market is new, and may be subject to new regulations at any time. You cannot trade more than ten years plus or minus your original date of birth, and any attempts to defraud security regulations will result in legal action, up to and including life in jail. If either client is able to prove misleading or fraudulent claims about their new body within the first 30 days, the swap will be reversed. Customer dissatisfaction is not a valid reason to reverse the swap process, so care should be taken prior to confirming purchase. If you agree to these terms, your payment will be considered a legal signature."

Clay paused, staring at the wad of cash in his hands. "You, uhh… you do take cash, right? I didn't even think about trying to get a money order."

James simply smiled at him. "That will be fine, Mr. Clay. It's not standard, but for you I will make an exception. Truth be told, I'm already making a few exceptions for you, but I've been able to pull strings to have it classified as charity work. Besides, all of your of the mandated background interviews have come back with glowing recommendations, which is why I have no issues taking such a risk on you."

"And I appreciate that, don't get me wrong. All the same, I… I'm just worried that no one will want to take my life in exchange for theirs," Clay said, kicking the carpet with his boots. "But anything will be better than this, and … well, I'm trusting you, James. I'm trusting you to find something for me."

"I actually do have a very promising lead for you, if you're willing to take it," he said, adjusting his necktie. "It's a very unusual situation, which is why most of my clients have not accepted this body. But for you… honestly, this might work. My client is local businessman Richard Hargrove, but the body for trade or sale is the body of his son, Aiden Hargrove. It's… legal, technically, though I'm not convinced Aiden fully understood the paperwork he was signing."

Clay raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess… Richard expects great things from his son, but his son isn't matching those expectations?"

James nodded. "It's a tale as old as time, and it's a lot of emotional baggage to carry over into a new life. If you want to inherit the family money, you'll have to make certain that you keep Richard appeased. There's going to be a lot of family drama, while most people on the market for a new body are looking for a swap with no strings attached."

"No strings, you say," Clay said, absent-mindedly scratching his chest. "How often are people swapping bodies, anyway?"

"Honestly, we're starting to see a lot of designer body circles where people swap bodies every few months like clothes. People are trying to establish winter bodies, vacation bodies, bodies for formal events… it's a bit of a mess out there right now. But most people don't want to be locked into a new body forever, which… is what Mr. Hargrove is looking for. But since it sounds like that is what you're looking for as well... here's a photo of Aiden," he said, passing a headshot over to Clay.

Clay could feel his cock stirring to life in his jeans. Aiden was incredibly attractive. He also looked like an insufferable spoiled rich kid, but… well, that was probably true. "James, this man is gorgeous. There has to be some sort of catch, more than just the family drama angle you described."

"Well… yes. As a part of the swap agreement, Mr. Hargrove is requiring that the person taking his son's body signs a five year habitation agreement. It includes a stipend of $100,000 spread across monthly installments, but it states that you will only be able to contact your prior family through written, voice, or video correspondence. Nor will you be able to contact any of your prior friends ever again. For most people, that's a complete dealbreaker. For you, however…"

Clay couldn't help but laugh. "My younger brother is going to college several states away, so I already have limited contact. And the closest things I have to friends are people who are nice to me at work." He paused, taking off his cap and squeezing its brim as he thought it over. "I really don't have anything to lose," he said. It felt odd to say it aloud, but… he hadn't fully realized just how much he had been putting everyone else's needs over his own until it was pointed out like this. "I always knew it, I mean… it's why I hired you, I just… I never quite thought about it like that. James, I accept. Whatever you need me to sign, let's do this."

James smiled. "Excellent choice! I'll put in an offer this afternoon, and I'll be in touch with the next round of paperwork. It's not official yet, but given that Aiden's body has been on the market for over five weeks, I can't imagine that we're going to get any resistance."

------------------------------------------------------

"Alright, so that was four strokes, which puts me at… +8," said the new Aiden. "Not great, but at least I'm slowly improving. Ready for the next hole, Dad?" The first week or two had had its share of uncomfortable moments, but he was slowly easing into the expectations of his new life. Now, after a few months, life as Aiden Hargrove was becoming second nature.

Richard smiled at him. "I'm proud of you, you know."

"Agh, Dad…" Aiden said, feeling himself starting to blush.

"No, I mean that," he said. "It was hard enough having to disown my first son… I was so worried about who my new son was going to be. But you… you're hard working, you're dedicated, you're sincere… how could anyone not be grateful? I'm… I'm bad at knowing how to show people that I care, Aiden. Too much tough love, they tell me. And if I'm going to start training you to take over the family business, that will only get worse. Which, I will be training you, son, you've picked up on sales like it was second nature. So… when we leave here, and I'm back to being a dick… it's because I expect a lot from you, okay? I'm proud of you even when I'm not showing it." Richard leaned in for a hug, which Aiden returned with an awkward embrace.

"Also, son, I keep meaning to ask-- have you been getting your dick wet?"

Aiden felt his stomach drop out from under him. "Jesus, Dad! That's not… do we have to talk about that?"

"You're almost thirty," Richard said, folding his arms. "It's well past time for you to get married. I'm not going hold sins of the old Aiden against you, but people are already starting rumors. An eligible Hargrove, unmarried? It's unheard of. I don't even care who you marry, as long as they make at least $150,000 per year. Are you gay? I've seen the way your eye wanders in the country club's sauna. The old Aiden was straight as an arrow, but we can smooth that over easy enough."

"I… yes sir, I am a gay man," Aiden admitted, as he desperately prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him in. "I haven't, uhh… I haven't had sex in this body yet. I've been focused more on living as the new Aiden. Adding a relationship to things felt… complicated. Especially since the thought of a queer scandal had me afraid to… pursue things, as it were."

Richard waved a dismissive hand. "Well, start pursuing them. You're a Hargrove now. We don't have scandals, we just have bribe money. Your mother and I are going to be celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary next year, and I expect to you be engaged by then. I need everyone to see that you are a force to be reckoned with."

------------------------------------------------------

Aiden leaned against the bar of the country club, waiting for his date to arrive. It was easy to adjust to the trappings of his new life, but he hoped to never fully lose sight of his roots. The navy suit he was wearing tonight was a designer piece that cost about two months of his old life's salary, and he was about to spend over ten hours of minimum wage labor on a single dinner. The universe had managed to reward all of those years of thankless labor with the opportunity to live Aiden's life, and it wasn't something he ever wanted to take for granted.

Trying to date as a gay man looking for marriage was complicated enough. Trying to date men who fit his new father's limited criteria was proving to be almost impossible. Most of the men who checked off all of the necessary requirements were either straight or insufferable-- but usually both. All the same, Aiden had high hopes for his date with Hunter. Unlike his previous dates, Hunter came into his wealth by creating and then selling his business at the right time. Hopefully that lack of a privileged upbringing would make him a tolerable human being.

Dinner with Hunter proved to be everything that Aiden had hoped for, and more. They were able to hold actual conversation, shifting from topic to topic without his date trying to brag about prior accomplishments or disparaging Aiden's interests as puerile. It was taking all of his restraint not to mount Hunter right there, in the middle of the dining room.

"Would you like to join me on a brief walk?" Aiden asked, once their meals had been finished and billed to his family's tab. "You'll have to forgive me if I am being too forward, but I took the liberty of reserving one of the... private cabana rooms at the edge of the grounds." His eyebrows waggled as he emphasized the word private, and the flush on Hunter's cheeks confirmed that the innuendo had not been lost on his date. Aiden swelled with pride as he observed the outline of Hunter's erection against his blue slacks as the man stood up, the most sincere sort of compliment he could receive. His own manhood was straining against his silk boxer briefs, and he found himself hoping that Hunter was sneaking glances.

"I... do have a confession, before we get too serious," Hunter said, as they strolled across the greens. "This is not my real body. My swap broker arranged for a three month loaner, while my real body is...being acclimated to my new wealth, shall we say. I'm paying someone to lose weight at the gym, whiten my teeth, develop a suitable skin care regimen... that sort of thing. And once I do get my body back, there will a wardrobe and hairstyle adjustment period..." He started to tug nervously at his collar. "Just a temporary side effect of being new money. I hope you don't find that too scandalous."

Aiden gave him a warm smile. "Far from it, I assure you. Your newfound wealth and status is part of your charm. It means you don't have any of the odious habits of my peers." He wrapped a possessive arm around Hunter's waist and pulled him close, a trophy to be displayed. "Besides, that sounds like an incredibly smart usage of a swap brokerage contract. If things get serious, I'll have to tell you about my own family's dealings with swap brokers."

[genericpuff]

no stop this article is too funny

this is from 2020 and while it talks about webtoons in general as a platform and medium, there's an excerpt from Rachel that's ironically and hilariously telling on herself when it comes to her priorities as a creator and how her work has aged incredibly poorly in the past 4 years:

She may as well just be saying, "I like Webtoon because they don't have any quality control" and "the trad publishing market had standards that I couldn't live up to, so instead of actually trying to live up to them, I went with a platform that has zero standards and was willing to make me into the standard regardless of my own qualifications and lack thereof."

Like y'all, take this as advice from someone who's had their fair share of rejection letters... the print industry dumping your unsolicited portfolio in the bin isn't gatekeeping, it's the nature of the business. The way Rachel describes it here - albeit I'm sure it's simplified for the sake of being an interview answer, but still - makes it sound like she was just expecting to walk right into the trad publishing market without an agent, without a completed manuscript or pitch, without any professional representation, and just slam her portfolio of mid-2000's art on the desk expecting them to hire her on the spot.

Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of barriers that prevent people from getting into the trad market, hurdles that can often be outright unfair (lacking the funds, lacking the connections, etc.) but... there's also a reason many of those barriers are there in practice.

First of all, fun fact: the reason why many publishers don't take unsolicited manuscripts isn't just to help them filter out the spam and low-effort submissions and prevent an overload of submissions (because if they took submissions from anyone and everyone, the overviewing system would break entirely), but it's also for legal purposes so that they don't get sued. Because if Joe Chucklefuck sends in an unsolicited manuscript that just so happens to include a plot point about the multiverse, and then a new book series or movie comes out that is about the multiverse, Joe Chucklefuck might get the sense they're being stolen from and attempt to sue them for plagiarism. This is why it's stressed so much by publishers that any unsolicited manuscripts will not just go unread, but will be thrown straight into the bin.

But second, many publishers simply don't want to take the financial risks on random start-up creators whose only experience is running their own personal projects on Tumblr, much less personal projects like Rachel's, half of which are fetish-content and all of which are unfinished. Of course they weren't gonna take Rachel seriously back then, she hadn't done anything to build up her presence in the industry.

In that sense, yes, self-publishing or pursuing a platform gig like Webtoons probably was Rachel's next best option which would be perfectly acceptable on its own, but it's just so, so telling that she thinks it's a "perk" for Webtoons to lack so much in the way of quality control, and we would ironically see the glaring evidence of that "perk" 3-4 years later in LO's final season when every single element of it as a "professional" piece of work turned to shit. It's no wonder she liked Webtoons in 2020 for letting her do anything she wanted, because what she wanted absolutely would not fly with an actual editor and publishing agency that cared about putting out a polished piece of work. The only way she was able to get "in" with a professional publisher was through Del Rey after Webtoons brokered a deal for her to have LO put into print, and even that level of prestige can't hide the fact that LO sucks ass in print. It's almost like under normal circumstances and without Webtoons carrying her on their shoulders above every other creator on the platform - many of whom actually do have experience in both tradpub and self-publishing - Del Rey wouldn't have paid her any attention. Without Webtoons, no one would take her seriously because she doesn't take what she does seriously, and it shows in her priorities as a creator who simply wants to just do whatever she wants without any sort of reasonable oversight like research or editing which are, again, necessary expectations within the tradpub industry, because it's not just about being a free-thinking self-expressive artist anymore in that industry - it's a business.

Of course, Rachel is probably now laughing from her soapbox over the fact that she now technically helps run an imprint, so haha "poo on the meanie trad market", but considering that imprint has still not launched and has been put on the same "coming soon" track that the LO television show has been on for the past 4+ years on a loop, I'm not holding my breath that it's actually going to amount to anything substantial.

(gotta love how they asked if Rachel was gonna create any more stories and her answer was RSP, which will help other creators bring their stories to life. so at best she didn't answer the question which is nothing new for her, at worst she gave away the fact that she's gonna be acting as some kind of producer who will be given all the credit and praise for other creator's works and efforts lmao no thankssss)

And god knows what the quality control of this imprint is gonna be like if Rachel's attitude toward the trad market overall is, "Nooo they won't let me do what I wantttt :((((" when she admittedly never even broke into the trad market to begin with and had zero experience working within that industry prior to LO.

And even then, Webtoons still doesn't give her as much freedom of choice as she claims to have. I mean ffs, this is the same person whose moderators stated that the Swarovski crystal dress from the finale was done as a "fuck you" to Webtoons for not letting her draw Persephone nude all the time.

She's obviously still being prevented from doing what she wants to do, when a lot of what she wants to do is better off not passing the vibe check and making it into the comic.

Quality control exists for a reason, Rachel. And "letting you do what you want" isn't necessarily a "flex" that Webtoons can claim over trad publishing when that "flex" is forgoing the traditional barriers that would usually prevent someone like you from failing upwards into manufactured fame the way that you have.

And that's my big bag of cents on that.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Just hear me out,

Wild west outlaw König.

That's all ,please and thank you❤️

P.s I love love love your work and you inspire me so much more than words can express,so thank you so much

Wild West Outlaw König Headcanons

Warnings: Outlaw König, König Kills People, Obsessive König, König (DEEP) in Love, Looting, Kidnapping, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Descriptions of Smut, Dominant König, Submissive König, Mention of Ghost, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words, my lovely ! Your kind words have touched my heart, and I hope your creative endeavours flourish <3

Man owns a pair of handcuffs and KNOWS how to use them.

Let’s work on the assumption that he kidnapped you.

Perhaps you were already partially romantically involved but your family would never let you marry someone like König, so he stages a robbery and takes you as part of the ransom.

One he has no intention of accepting any payment for because he’s never letting you go.

König’s monstrous proportions make it easy for him to physically overpower aggressors – other bandits, outlaws, authority figures.

However, he does pose something of a hazard to himself because there’s (much) more of him to hit.

Luckily, he’s straight out of a situation the minute it gets sticky – as if he just disappears into thin air.

Just one of the reasons why he’s called the Phantom Outlaw.

Not to be confused with Ghost, who is also an outlaw but never leaves a trace (or a witness), making his reputation far more ghoulish than König’s.

Though, König does excel in the fear factor, his sheer size and notoriety – his trenchcoat and mask the very visage of Death – forcing everyone who sees him to relinquish their goods in exchange for their lives.

Speaking of, König’s ability to swing thousands in cash makes for a happy home life, given how he spends much of his fortune on you.

Clothes, jewels, literature, instruments, automobiles: you name it, you’ve got at least a treasure trove of each.

Even if you try to resist these gifts, König refuses to let up.

“Can’t have my precious little Engel going without, can I ?”

So, in return, you typically handle all the chores, though König insists you don’t have to.

“It’s not like we can hire a maid to do it for us, can we ?” you tell him. “Especially not when there’s a handsome bounty on that even more handsome head of yours.”

Said bounty is what makes it difficult for the two of you to stay in one place for too long.

And whenever you move, you always try to make the house a safe space for König.

Blankets in his favourite chair, his favourite meal on the table for him whenever you know he’s going to have a rough day, a bit of fun before bed, etc.

You can tell whenever he feels really comfortable, because he takes up three quarters of the bed, just sprawled out like a rapidly growing infection.

And you always fit neatly against his side. Or on his chest.

König calls you his “Little bunny” (or “Bun-Bun”) because of how small you look when you’re nuzzled into his chest.

He never takes you, or anything you do, for granted.

You don’t know this (so keep this a secret between you and I) but König watches you when you sleep. More than you’d think.

Truth be told, the outlaw life terrifies him.

Sure, he has the swagger and the notoriety to make off with thousands in gold, jewels, and lavish material items, but, really, his greatest, most prized treasure is you.

There is only one of you. You cannot be bought, or replicated, or found in the wild like an ore of purest diamond.

Simply put, König’s success is entirely down to the fact that he can’t be caught lacking.

If he ever was to, he knows he’d lose you. Whether you’re taken by a stray bullet in a shoot-out or your town’s rangers come to tear you from his cold, lifeless grip, König takes every precaution to circumvent these tragedies by remaining the fastest hand in the west. And the most ruthless.

Even for an outlaw, his kill count is exceedingly high.

And it’s no coincidence that the numbers began to climb after he met you. Fell in love with you.

People who he’s seen giving you lecherous stares, or those he can sense have poor intentions, he’s taken them out the back and absolved the world of their presence.

And, at the end of every excursion, every execution, every haul, the weight of the world falls from König’s shoulders as he comes back to you.

He takes his mask down around you, hangs his hat upon the coat rack. You’re the only person who he shows his face to.

But, whenever you can tell a fragment of the day resides pinned in his mind, shrapnel of his self-inflicted lifestyle, you make sure to service him before bed.

How he likes to be serviced can change on a day-to-day basis. He’s not fussy.

The only thing that changes is whether he wants to be handled by you or if he wants to slam you into the pillows.

Possessive sex <333.

“Tell me you love me,” he rasps into your ear, pinning you to the mattress with his body, making escape an impossibility to you. “Tell me I’m the only one that will ever have you like this,”

As stated previously; he has a pair of handcuffs and knows how to use them.

Or, if they’re too far out of reach and he needs you bound now, he’ll use rope. Or even just his hands.

Eye contact. The whole time.

It’s as if a different person inhabits him when he gets like this; something dark and jagged, no mere demon, possesses his form. And, by extension, yours.

König’s not stopping until you’re full, he’s empty, and he’s confident you’re not leaving the house for the next few days.

But, when König is feeling fragile, he lets you take the lead.

Just lies back while you’re on top of him, calling him your “Good boy”, “my Prince”, “my protector,” – anything that reaffirms that he holds a great deal of importance in your life.

More often than not, he ends up with tears in his eyes.

Nobody has ever been so gentle and loving towards him as you have. And coupled with how you’re taking him slowly, taking the time to make sure you’re hitting all bases and he’s thoroughly loved, sends him over the edge.

Kiss his tears away and his soul leaves his body.

It’s times like these that, more than anything, König wants a simple life. A paroxysmal desire to lead an ordinary existence where the two of you can live together happily, without the threat of being chased out of town every few months.

And, maybe, one day, even have a family together.

Until then, König will continue to dream, to give you a lifestyle of sapphires and gold and every delicacy the human mind can conjure.

And whenever he looks at you before he leaves, he sees his good luck charm, the light at the end of his tunnel. And, most importantly, the embodiment of love itself.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 6

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] Part 6: [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Jealous!Carmy, SoftDom!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Make up Sex, Sex Toys, P in V sex, Oral (M and F receiving), Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

You were in over your head.

Some fashion vlogger had recorded a video in your store, giving it a glowing review and it had been good for business. Maybe too good. The store was now full of stylish teenagers with baggy jeans and designer bags, you had a new hire to train, and a local journalist had emailed you to ask for an interview.

He showed up a couple of days later, tall with dark hair, and every bit as stylish as you would expect a reporter from a fashion magazine to be. You had shown him around, let him take photos, talked about your favorite brands and decades of fashion, and complimented his printed shirt.

"It's from the seventies," he commented bashfully. "I'm a little obsessed."

And he talked about his ongoing quest for the perfect pair of bell bottoms. You showed him what you had in the store and promised to be on the lookout.

"You know, it's weird," he gestured to the side, where The Bear was. "I used to come here when they did sandwiches."

"They still do!" you beamed. "The fine dining is really good too. Well, I'm biased but-"

"Right! Being their neighbor and all," he concluded. You simply nodded along - no need to let him know the intricacies of your personal life.

"Let me buy you lunch," he offered. You were about to refuse when he added. "I'd love to try their food but I hate eating alone."

You accepted. It seemed harmless and it could be good for the restaurant too - maybe he knew a food critic and would recommend the place too.

Richie guided you both to a table with a smile, quickly catching up with your plan once you mentioned the interview, offering the journalist a sampler of the menu.

It was good - the food, the conversation. It caught you by surprise when Carmy stormed out of the kitchen, something angry in his stride.

"Are you enjoying the food?"

It was a simple enough question, it was the way he said it-

"It's excellent, thank you!" the journalist said earnestly, which only seemed to wind up Carmy even more.

"Good, great," he rasped, then turned towards you. "Can I talk to you?" it was said in that clipped tone that meant he was stressed and he didn't have good news.

You followed him to the back and touched his wrist briefly, trying to convey how important this was.

"Carm?" you asked, your face wrinkling in worry and confusion.

"You mad at me or something?" he asked.

"No! Just nervous, stressed... I don't even know - it's just the interview," you tried to reassure him. "Can we talk later, baby?"

"Sorry to interrupt," the journalist had walked up to you without either of you noticing. "I just wanted to know - are you the chef here?"

"He is, yes!" you smiled, thinking everything was going according to plan.

“Carmen Berzatto,” he said without offering his hand, his frown furrowed and something deadly in his stare.

The journalist gave one look at Carmy and his face shifted from friendly to scared. "I'll give you guys a minute."

Carmy was burning holes on the back of the guy's skull and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

"What's wrong with you?" you whispered.

"That fucking guy."

"He's the fucking journalist! Are you out of your mind, Carmen?" you were losing the last shred of patience you had left. "I was trying to do a nice thing and you- We can talk about this later at home, okay? Now leave, please."

You turned away from him and didn't look back until you had paid for lunch and walked the journalist out the door.

"I'm so sorry about him," you explained. "It wasn't personal."

"Don't worry about it. I worked as a server once. I swear working in a kitchen does things to your brain..." he mimicked a spiral by his temple. You winced.

"Yeah."

"Hope he doesn't bother you again," he said, which made your stomach drop. "I'll send you the article when it's done. And you have my number if you ever find those bell bottoms."

He waved goodbye and you huffed in defeat.

Suddenly, you were being hugged by Nat, her arms around your shoulders.

"Did Carmy send you?" you asked, patting her forearm.

"Kind of," she let go of you with a sigh. "He walked in the kitchen and kind of lost it? I had to get it out of him. And when he explained, I came over."

"Thank you," you said softly.

"He can be an idiot," she said.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"He loves you, though."

"I know," you said, rubbing your temples. It had been a long day. "I'll text him."

You were pacing the carpet, waiting for Carmy to get back from work. You had a list of things you wanted to tell him ready to go: that making a scene like that had been embarrassing and hurtful, that he had probably ruined the whole interview acting that way -

Your train of thought and frantic pacing was interrupted by the key in the door. Carmy walked inside, a defeated look on his face, and every cell in your body wanted to go and hold him but you stood still, arms crossed while he closed the door behind him.

"Hey," you said.

"Hey, I, uh," he stumbled. "What I said... What I did... I mean, even Richie thought that it was fucked up so..."

He let it hang there, in the air between you two, keeping his distance.

"Carm," you took a deep inhale. "I need you to understand the store is just as important to me as the restaurant is to you. It's finally going well. And maybe that means I have less time for you. I need to know that you'll be okay with it - with me being busy sometimes - that whatever that was won't happen again."

"I know, I know," he said looking at the ground. "I'm happy it's working out. I am."

You tilted your head. "Then what the hell happened?"

He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"It's so stupid," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I got jealous. So fucking jealous. I had never- I didn't know what to do with it."

You uncrossed your arms - you actually hadn’t thought of that.

"No need to be, Carm," you reassured him.

"I just-" he blinked hard like he sometimes did when he was stressed. "This tall as fuck guy, with the fancy fucking shirt, just being charming around you..."

"You think I care about that shit?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Carmy looked at you with wide eyes. "I'm an asshole sometimes, I cancel plans, my family is a fucking mess-"

"Hey, I like Nat!" you interrupted his spiral.

"And I think she likes you better than me."

You stood in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry. I am," he said in the end.

You moved one step closer and pressed your forehead to his. "It's okay if you're jealous, Carm. Just- keep your cool if it happens again. Please," you said softly. "I don't know if I can handle you acting like that again."

He nodded. "Promise."

"I'm coming home to you, baby. No one else," you emphasized, running your hands over his chest.

"Mhmm," he tilted his head, eyes closed, like he wanted to kiss you but needed your permission. You surged forward, trapping him in a tight embrace and a searing kiss.

It got heated quickly.

He cornered you towards the kitchen, grabbing and pressing, until you were sitting on the counter, legs bracketing his hips, hands in his hair.

"Carmy," you gasped, as he kissed your neck like only he knew how. His tongue traced the contour of your collarbone and you moaned.

He undid the first few buttons of your blouse, burying his face between your breasts, kissing and nipping. You carded your fingers through his hair, and crossed your legs behind him, keeping him close. The heat between your thighs was getting more unbearable as time went by. He started kissing down, like he would eat you out, atoning for what happened, but you didn't want that.

You pulled on his hair and made him look up. "I need you inside me," he exhaled shakily. "Now."

He took a condom out of his back pocket while you unbuttoned his slacks, undressing him just enough to free his cock. His hands went under your skirt, eager, and moved your underwear to the side. When Carmy leaned to start fingering you, you grabbed his wrist.

"I need your cock inside me," you clarified.

You didn't want the tenderness of foreplay. You moved to the edge of the counter, taking his cock in hand and putting the condom on yourself. You guided his head to your entrance and felt him fill you out. It hurt a little, your pussy tight and unprepped, and weirdly that was what you wanted now. You whined once he bottomed out and he groaned at the feeling, the sound making you roll your eyes.

"Fuck," you held him close, arms around his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life. Without knowing where it came from, you said to the side of his face: "Show me I'm yours."

He inhaled sharply, his hands shaking where they held your waist. Then his hips moved back and forth in one long, agonizing stroke. You moaned. Again. And you held him tighter, letting drowned out cries pour out from your lips. He kept going for a little while, the pace so slow that it made you wonder whether all his anger had fizzled out by now.

Except he started going hard, hitting that spot that made you dizzy. Your breasts and legs were shaking with every thrust. You covered your mouth to stop from screaming.

"Holy shit, Carmy" you mumbled.

His hands touched all over, scratching your thighs and up, squeezing your hips, tracing your sides, caressing your arms and holding your wrists. You shivered. His cock kept hitting just right, his mouth exhaling on the side of your face. His hand traveled south, finding your clit like it was second nature, thumbing at it in small circles, just the way you liked.

"No one can fuck me like this," you whined. "No one makes me feel this good."

His hips stuttered and he moved so that your foreheads were touching and his eyes were staring right into yours, you could feel the sweat on his brow.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you replied, your jaw slack as you kept panting and moaning. His pace was so steady that it felt like Carmy could go on forever. Then, impatient, you started thrusting your hips against his, making it go twice as fast, making him groan into your mouth and start losing control.

"Fuck," he cursed, grabbing your hips, steadying himself. "I'm so crazy about you."

"Carmy," you managed to say, desperate, your voice getting high, and your nails scratching at his scalp.

His free hand squeezed your breast over your bra and you slipped your hands under his shirt, caressing the hair on his navel, and up his chest, pinching one of his nipples hard.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned again.

You were so close you could almost taste it. Just then you grabbed his face with both hands.

"Tell me," you pleaded. "Tell me you'll never do that again. Tell me I'm yours."

"Never. Never, I promise," Carmy breathed into your mouth, little desperate sounds escaping his throat. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine."

He came with a strong exhale, drowning every other sound into your neck. His thumb on your clit kept moving until you joined him, completely spent, bracing on the edge of the counter to stop yourself from falling back.

He placed gentle kisses on your throat while you both recovered your breath. You clenched your walls around his cock, drawing a satisfied moan out of him.

"Did you get the guy's contact?" he panted against your skin.

"Yeah, why?" you replied ruffling his hair with your exhale.

"Thought I'd send him a cannoli or something," Carmy looked up from his place on your chest. "Make sure what I did doesn't make you look bad."

You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing.

"I don't think that's necessary but I'm sure he'll appreciate it. He said something about wanting to marry whoever made the desserts," you teased.

"Don't think Marcus'll be interested," Carmy inhaled deeply, his nose on the exact place you sprayed perfume every morning, though by now it had probably faded into a saltier scent. "When's the article coming out?"

"Couple of weeks," you hummed, caressing his back under his shirt.  "We have time, baby. So much time."

~

You were leaning on the kitchen door, watching as Carmy and Syd posed against the counter. A photographer was giving them vague instructions about where to stand and where to look. She was also complimenting Carmy and hitting on him like she was getting paid overtime for it.

"Sydney, lean forward, yes, nice! Carmen, hit me with those blue eyes! Gorgeous, what a handsome guy!" she said with a cat-like smile.

The restaurant was going to be featured in Food & Wine, which entailed a photoshoot.

They had both started wearing their chef's whites, going for a more professional approach. Then, to make them more comfortable, the photographer asked them to change into their street clothes. It had done wonders for Syd, who was now showing off one of her mother's beautiful shirts with a proud smile on her face. It hadn't been quite as successful with Carmy - he had a tortured look in his eyes. Now he was standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, even more withdrawn than when they had started, every wink and cheesy one-liner from the photographer making him wince.

"Okay, Sydney, a little to the side. Exactly, chin up, please! And Carmen - why don't you stand this way? Yeah, let's show off those arms."

You bit your bottom lip.

"Carm?" you called him - he turned with wide eyes. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He nodded. "Sorry, excuse us," he mumbled, leaving the kitchen quickly, trailing behind you. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry," he said, his blue eyes pleading.

"What for?"

"All the things she's saying..." he turned briefly, making sure the door was closed. "Fuck, I don't mean to-"

"You're not doing anything wrong, baby," you reassured him, cupping his face gently. "It looked like you needed a break, is all."

"Yeah," he exhaled heavily. "It's a lot."

You nodded. "The kitchen looks really nice," you commented to lighten the mood. They had done a deep clean the day before that had run into midnight.

"Thanks," he smiled. Then added: "This is a fucking nightmare."

You intertwined your fingers with his. "I think-" you paused, "that she wants you to look confident. That's why she keeps saying nice things."

"They don't feel nice," he bit his cheek.

You remembered how hard it had been for him to accept compliments for anything other than his cooking when you had first started dating. He would scoff and dismiss every word. Even now, sometimes it felt like he didn't quite believe them and maybe was just humoring you - which broke your heart. There wasn't enough time to unpack all that, so instead you leaned forward, placing one hand on his hip, whispering to his ear, flirtatious.

"Carm, I want you to go in there and eye fuck that camera like you would if it was me," he took a sharp inhale. "I will make it worth your while. Let you do anything you want to me," you promised.

He gulped. "Jesus," he mumbled, his pupils dilated.

You gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. "I'll tell them you'll be back in a few minutes," you said with a satisfied grin and went back to your place by the kitchen door.

"He went for a quick smoke," you lied to Syd.

When Carmy returned, he was in control, hands on his hips, like he had suddenly remembered he owned the place.

"Okay, guys, let's get this over with," he took his place next to Sydney, leaning on the counter and staring right into the lens, something defiant in his stance.

Your heart started racing. Even the photographer seemed affected by the shift.

"Uh, yes, good," after a few clicks she said: "I think we got it. Mmm, one more from this angle and we'll be good to go."

She led them to the main entrance to The Bear, Sydney crossing her arms and Carmy mirroring that same stance. They looked like they had stepped out of a magazine, modeling some understated and ridiculously expensive brand. Carmy looked in your direction for a second and licked his lips, before he turned back to the camera, unflinching and determined.

Another few clicks.

"Thank you guys, that would be all," the photographer went up to shake their hands and say her goodbyes. You were about to follow her out when Carmy took you by the wrist.

"See you tonight," he drawled and you felt yourself get wet.

"When I said you could do anything you wanted to me, I wasn't expecting this," you panted, your hands buried in Carmy's curls, as he kept kissing and licking every inch of your pussy. He was taking his sweet time too, biting on your thighs and going up to give some attention to your breasts and neck whenever he felt you were getting too close to your release.

"What were you expecting?" he asked, an amused glow to his face while he rested his chin on your hip, his mouth and nose shiny with your arousal.

"I don't know," you sighed, frustrated but so turned on. His hand caressed your pussy gently and you moaned. "Give you a blowjob, wear a silly costume, something like that."

"And are you into that?" he asked.

"I do like to suck your cock," you said honestly. Sometimes, with other guys, it had felt like a chore, not with Carmy, you loved to see him come undone, let go completely.

"See, the thing is," he kissed the curve of your hip, "if you gave me a blowjob it would be over so quickly," he exhaled right on your spread out clit which made you shudder. "And where's the fun in that?"

You giggled giddily when he squeezed your ass, manhandling you closer to his face, keeping his focus on your pussy.

"So you're just going to edge me until I beg?" you asked, half wanting for him to say yes.

"Don't worry," he gave a long lick, from the bottom of your lips to the top, making you arch your back and curse. "You will come," there was something dark in his eyes again, that same determination from the photoshoot back in his face - he was in charge. "When I want you to."

You shivered. "Fuck, Carm."

He started sucking on your clit, his tattooed fingers curling inside of you. You melted under his touch, feeling your pussy squeeze his fingers.

"Please, Carmy..."

He stopped sucking, messing with the rhythm, keeping you hanging by a thread.

"You will come," he repeated, "when I want you to," the speed of his fingers increased. "As many times as I want you to."

You moaned. His mouth latched onto your clit, licking until you were thrashing on the bedsheets, his forearm kept you in place on the mattress.

"Fuck, shit, baby," you mumbled. Your gazes met, his blue eyes fiery. He nodded and you came in a blur, desperately grabbing at anything - his hair, the bedsheets - the feeling all the more intense for the time he had spent working you up. He kept kissing and sucking until you stopped moaning and started chuckling breathily.

"Just like that," he praised, something playful in his voice and you would have teased back if you weren't so completely spent.

He kissed the outside of your folds, staying away from your clit and your entrance, just worshipping the skin around them and you caressed his hair lovingly.

"You make me feel so fucking good," you exhaled.

He climbed up your body and kissed you hard, mouth open, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock, hard inside his jeans, grazed the lower part of your belly, it made you tremble in anticipation. "You gonna fuck me?" you asked between one kiss and the next, your hips lifting up to ground on his.

He clicked his tongue. "Not yet," he got up and opened the drawer of your bedside table, taking out your rabbit vibrator. "This charged?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

"Good girl," he praised and your hand squeezed your breast almost unconsciously; something happened to you whenever he talked to you like that.

He lowered himself next to you, held up by one arm; his hand teased your pussy, his calloused fingers spreading wetness around.

"D'you need lube, baby?" he asked, more out of politeness than anything since he knew the answer very well.

"I think I'm okay, Carm," you laughed and he kissed the side of your face.

"Mhmm. So fucking hot," he whispered and you felt the dildo poking at your entrance.

You placed your hand on the side of Carmy's face, your thumb near the edge of his mouth. He sucked on it thoroughly, then let go with a pop. You whined needily.

"Please, please, please..." it poured out of you.

He bumped your forehead with his, his gaze was intense and hungry.

"Keep looking at me," he ordered, and you obeyed, keeping your eyes open even as the dildo went all the way inside you and filled you up deliciously. The coldness of the toy reminded you it wasn't Carmy's cock - but he was holding it, he was right there next to you. Your face contorted in pleasure.

"Yes, like that," he encouraged you, his words tickling inside your belly. He seemed to be overcome just looking at you - it made you feel wanted, adored, beautiful. You wanted to make him feel that way too.

"Carm," you gasped. "I need you to know- Oh, fuck," he pumped the toy inside you, slow, so slow. "I need you to know," you repeated through the fog of pleasure, "all those things the photographer said. They're true. Oh, my God, baby," his expression softened even as he buried the dildo deep inside you. "Your eyes are beautiful," another thrust, you caressed his face. "Your arms are so hot," you held onto the arm that was fucking you, squeezing the muscle there. "Shit. You're handsome, gorgeous, fucking- oh!" you blurted all at once, turning the compliments into moans. "I swear - fuck!" you held his gaze. "Can't believe you're mine."

He leaned forward, kissing you tenderly, swallowing your moans.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you," you replied, a choked out sound leaving your lips.

He turned on the vibration and watched you lose control, becoming desperate with lust, thrusting your hips wildly. He kept you there a bit longer than necessary, torturing you a little with how long he was drawing it out. It was so good, so fucking good.

"Carmy. Please," you begged.

"I know, I know," he soothed. "You're doing so good."

It sent a shiver down your spine and made the very last thread inside you snap.

"Oh," you exhaled, coming harder than you ever had, scratching at his forearm, screaming into the skin of his shoulder.

"Sound so nice," Carmy mumbled, looking as pussy drunk as a man could be without actually fucking one. "Baby, baby, baby."

You stayed there for a while, the dildo still inside you, and Carmy's hands touching your waist tenderly while you kissed.

After a long while of that, he got up from the bed, and started getting undressed while you watched. You bit your lip and put your head on your hand, enjoying the sight. He caught you staring.

"You really meant all those things you said," it began as a statement and ended as a question, Carmy's voice going up slightly.

"Every word," you said, taking out the dildo as Carmy showed you his cock. You licked your lips. "D'you mind? Me saying things like that?"

You wanted him to be confident but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

He shook his head. "I liked it," he admitted. He stood right by you, beside the bed, fiddling with the condom he had retrieved from your drawer. "Made me feel good."

"I'm glad, Carm," you reached out to caress his leg, following the line of muscle there. Saying he was beautiful once while you fucked wasn't going to change his mind, but you were willing to keep trying.

In the meantime, you could show him. Even with the exhaustion of everything Carmy had done to you, you wanted him inside you, wanted to see him roll his eyes in ecstasy. You crawled to where he was, kneeling, near the edge of the mattress. His cock was hard, pulsing, and it made your mouth water. He stood still, dropped the condom on the mattress, probably guessing what you were about to do.

When you were an inch away from his cock, he pulled your hair and stopped you.

He gestured at the vibrator. "Put that back inside you," he said in that demanding voice and you rushed to do as he said, only uttering a small moan when you had it inside you. He leaned over, tracing a long line from your neck to your ass, reaching to turn it back on on the lowest setting. You writhed a little but after a moment of adjusting to the feeling you were able to stay still and look at Carmy.

"Good girl," he said again and you keened, leaning forward to suck his dick. The sound he made once your mouth was on him was heavenly. "Holy fuck."

His hands were tangled in your hair and you wished you could deep throat without choking, just to watch him lose his mind completely. You settled for going as far as you could, getting every inch of him slick with saliva, making him groan and sweat. You looked up, his eyes were white and his face was flushed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to breathe. You hummed with satisfaction and that woke up his competitive streak.

He pulled on your hair lightly. "Gimme a second," he panted. You thought he needed a breather, but he actually moved to turn the vibrator up a couple of notches. You trembled and reached for his ass, bracing, leaving red scratch marks on the tender skin.

"Fuck, baby," you said between moans. "Not fucking fair."

"Mhmm," he smirked, caressing your scalp. It took all your willpower and concentration but you moved forward and went back to sucking his cock, feeling a pang of pride as he threw his head back and uttered some curse you couldn't quite decipher.

The vibrator set a pace you could follow, rocking forward as it pulsed, letting you give Carmy pleasure while you were ridiculously close to losing your mind yourself.

"Shit, baby," he gasped, his knees buckling for a second. "Make me feel- Fuck, y're so good, so good," he mumbled.

The steady pace of the vibrator was building up a tense knot inside you - you were close, and so it became a race of making Carmy come before you did. You doubled your efforts, speeding up, hollowing your cheeks, moaning into his skin.

"You're fucking killing me," he growled, pulling on your hair just the way you liked it, making you roll your eyes as you sucked on his length. You were completely overwhelmed; you couldn't help but whine over and over. "Holy fuck."

He stared right onto your eyes as he came. He had told you he didn't mind if you spit his cum but sometimes you felt like drinking it all, consumed with lust - today was one of those times. You stayed there, licking his slit, caressing his balls until he pulled you away.

"Fuck, baby," he sighed, kneeling on the carpet to look at you.

He was completely wrecked: face red and sweaty, hair messier than you had ever seen it and a glazed look in his eyes. He tilted his head to kiss you thoroughly, tasting the cum leftover on your tongue. You could finally let go. You put your hand between your belly and the mattress, maneuvering the vibrator so it hit right where you needed it and you came immediately, kissing Carmy, biting on his lips, and humping on the bed. It was too much and just enough.

Carmy helped you take it out once you started whining from feeling sore. He moved your body to lie comfortably on the bed, your head on the pillow and him next to you.

"Fucking insane," he exhaled. You chuckled in agreement, fucked out senseless. "D'you need anything?" he asked gently after a moment.

You shook your head, raising a hand to caress his face.

"I feel perfect, Carm."

You moved your index finger, tracing the contour of his eyebrows, the line of his nose, and the curve of his cheekbone. 

“Pretty,” you managed to say.

He smiled and brought you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, his arms around making you feel safe.

~

[Part 7]

~

@th3h0nkz

[cadeloverforever]

Don't take the song into account xD, hello! I come with a headcanon and one shot? From black noir ll since chapter 7 left me 😦 There may be SPOILERS! (Although most likely yes :v, I don't know) (The reader is going to be human and the black noir will know about the romance with the original black noir by Vought or something like that)

╭═══════════ .❥. ═════════════╮

BLACK NOIR ll AND A LITTLE OF THE ORIGINAL BLACK NOIR HEADCANON

➹ We talked about how you started to suspect that the Noir you were sleeping with wasn't YOUR Noir.

What made you suspicious is that the first time you saw him after he was gone for a few days without explanation you hugged him, But he looked like he was confused, you didn't see his notebook where he wrote what he wanted to say.

"Earving? What's wrong? Did you lose your notebook?". After those words you looked at him a little worried and the "response" you received from him was a quick nod of the head.

➹ The other time he suspected you a little more was when he brought peanut chocolate, You knew he was allergic to it which seemed strange to you but you thought he just didn't read the label correctly and you just gave it to someone else.

➹ It seemed strange to see Noir still for a long time (he was asleep since Noir II is narcoleptic) and when you tried to talk to him he simply didn't respond, You could be asking him for his opinion on something and have the same situation.

"Hey? I was asking you something, are you feeling okay? Do you always do that lately" you said moving him a little, you watched him startle and just quickly shake his head.

➹ The day they told you that Noir wasn't him was when you brought him a beaver stuffed animal for your anniversary together, Noir didn't accept it and then cursed.

"I can't keep doing this shit, and before you say anything, I'm not the real Noir I don't know what happened to him, they just hired me to try to be him (I don't remember if the person who plays Noir knows what happened to Noir but we assume he doesn't) After that 'Noir' left, you were left wondering what happened to him, if he was still alive or if he just escaped... Without you

╰════════════ .❥. ════════════╯

[trunksette]

I don't think I have ever made an "addressing the situation" post in my life.

You people have completely blown this entire situation out of proportion, you are completely ignoring the fact that none of this was done in good faith. KAB is not difficult to get ahold of, her DMs are open, her ask box is open, if someone wanted to "make her aware" they should have brought this to her first.

They did not, instead they posted a few out of context screenshots (containing only 2-4 messages each) to make Rose look as bad as possible.

I ask each and every one of you here to lay everything you have ever said in a group chat bare and see how you stack up.

Better yet, not to lay the entire thing bare, but to have someone intentionally crop and cherry pick what has been said into order to make you look bad.

This is a personal attack, Rose's privacy was violated, everyone in that server's privacy was violated.

Secondly I want to address of the problem of "professionalism" everyone is pretending to care about so much.

Everyone saying how "unprofessional" it is to insult their "boss" I want you to take a second of your time and look at the dates present in these screenshots.

All but one of these comments were made before Rose was hired as an official part of GB Patch's team.

These comments do not come from an "employee" but someone who was simply a black person in a fandom space.

Which brings me to my third point. All of you are upset, crying that this fandom is about diversity and is a "safe space"

Well I have some news for you. Diversity and acceptance is not about everyone dancing in a circle holding hands and singing "Kumbaya" being a true diverse safe space means making room for everyone to be heard, even when the things you are hearing make you uncomfortable.

Here's another thing, people of color, queer people, trans people, do not have to be polite when talking about their feelings when it comes to issues that directly represent and affect them. They do not need to hold your delicate hand as they walk you through the immense trauma they experience through simply existing.

People keep trying to say this is not about race but it is. Whether you knew Rose was black or otherwise these comments are directly linked to the fact that they are a black, trans, queer person existing in a fandom space created by a cis white woman.

You take offense with their rudeness, with their tone, as if you have any idea if this person has any right to the anger they are expressing.

I don't know what kind of "safe space" you all are trying to create here but that server was a safe space where we didn't tone police black people expressing dismay about an overly white community.

[cuubism]

Bookstore cryptid Dream part THREE:

--

Hob squints at his phone, wondering how he possibly managed to set his phone language to-- is that Thai? What? Granted, he'd once set it to Japanese in an extremely ill-fated attempt to learn a new language, only to realize his error the first time he tried to drive somewhere and lost all sense of the nav. And then took three hours trying to figure out how to reset the language. Never again.

So how the fuck did he get it set on another language he can't even transcribe into Google translate to get to Settings?

He sighs, shoving the thing back in his pocket and resigning himself to a phone-less day. Sad, to be thinking of it like that. Once upon a time he could live without a constant internet connection, but no longer, apparently.

Then he gets down to the cafe, and the handwritten menu has been pencilled so badly it's illegible. What are they teaching kids these days if not decent penmanship? He'd have sworn the uni kids he'd hired to man the cafe when he's not there could read.

But he's supposed to open in about five minutes, so he leaves it for now.

The rest of the morning goes reasonably smoothly. Hob makes coffee and sandwiches while one of the hopefully-literate uni kids handles the orders--he finds the repetitive process of espresso-making soothing.

Then Dream comes in, and Hob takes over. It's his cafe, and he'll take the orders from his pretty goth "librarian", thanks.

"Dream," he greets, before Dream can say 'Hob Gadling' in his posh, solemn voice. "You going to let me make you something? Or just delivering another book? Because I'll be honest, I'm not sure I'm ready for another revelatory story from my past yet."

"I will accept coffee, thank you," says Dream, inclining his head. Hob punches it into the machine--he's already decided he's not charging Dream for anything, Dream keeps giving him free books after all--but he's got to keep inventory.

Or he tries to punch it in. The screen is all glitchy and scrambled, the words unintelligible, and he sighs in frustration. Damn thing.

Hob gives up, makes Dream coffee, and when he returns Dream does, of course, have a book for him.

"Simply a recommendation," he says, when Hob looks at it with some trepidation. "I think you might enjoy it."

Hob exchanges the coffee for the book. Looks at the cover. And squints in confusion. "Dream, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I can't read Arabic." Or whatever language. He's pretty sure it's Arabic, but he's not an expert.

Dream, for once, looks flummoxed. "This is an English copy," he says.

Hob opens the cover, wondering if maybe it's a translation inside--but nope, still Arabic. "I'm pretty sure I know English, Dream."

Dream takes the book back. Turns it over. Flips through the pages. Holds it by the spine and shakes it out. Looks at the cover again, then at Hob. "This is English," he says.

What this is is the dumbest conversation Hob's ever had. "Dream. Come on."

"Does it not look like that to you?" Dream asks. When Hob shakes his head, Dream sets his coffee and the book down on the counter and takes Hob's hand, dragging him out into the cafe proper. Hob, stunned, just follows him.

Dream pushes him down into a seat. "Read this," he says, and somehow procures another book, smaller this time, from absolutely nowhere.

Hob looks at it. "This is in French." He does know some French, but not whatever niche topic this is about.

Dream makes a frustrated sound. "Spell it out."

And Hob... tries. But every time he latches on a word, the letters.... change. Somehow.

"What," he says, though it's more of a squeak. "I swear to god I can read."

Dream takes the book back. "It's as I feared." Then, instead of explaining whatever the fuck he means, he asks, "Where do you live?"

"Um." Hob tries not to imagine Dream in his living space. "Upstairs?"

"Come, then." And Dream stands and drags Hob after him to the stairs in the back hall, as if he's the one who lives here and not Hob. He's very determined, and still hasn't explained a bloody thing.

Once Hob's let them in the flat above the cafe, Dream goes straight for the bookcase. It's still a bit of a mess--Hob hasn't entirely moved in--but Dream starts scanning the heaps of books anyway, running his fingers along the spines, flipping them over, restacking them in complicated piles. Hob just watches nervously.

Finally, Dream whirls around, a thin black paperback volume clasped in his hands. "I thought so," he hisses at the book. And then to Hob: "Did you get this recently?"

"Um." Hob thinks back. It's not one from Dream's shop, he still only has the two. "Yeah? Think so. Someone left it downstairs." The cafe has a shelf of borrowable books that people can take as long as they leave one in return.

Dream actually growls at the book. Hob's not sure why. It's just a book of poetry.

"Will you tell me what's going on now?"

"The book I gave you is not in Arabic, Hob Gadling," Dream says. "Nor French. You have been cursed."

Hob has... a lot of scrambly thoughts about that sentence. But the first that comes out is, "By a book?"

Dream nods. "It was planted in your possession by whoever left it downstairs."

"Why? Wait, what does it even do? Make things look like different languages?" Hob really hadn't thought opening a cafe was going to get him put on a magical hit list. Jesus Christ.

"It makes the written word unintelligible to you," says Dream. "Whether via a language you don't speak, or via simple recombination." Hob remembers-- of course. The phone. The menu board. "More a nuisance than a true threat to your person. It was meant to send a message."

Hob sits down heavily on the sofa. Cursed? Seriously? "What the hell kind of message, Dream? If you hadn't noticed, I'm running a cafe, not courting the occult."

Although. Maybe he'd like to be courting the occult. If that occult is Dream.

"A message to me," says Dream grimly. "I have enemies."

Hob can't help himself, he bursts out laughing. "You own a bookstore, how do you have enemies?"

"It's a dangerous occupation," Dream says darkly. He sits next to Hob. "I... am sorry. That you were drawn into it. A penalty of being associated with me."

He sounds sad now, not so much about the "enemies", but at the thought that his company might have brought Hob to harm. Hob lays his hand over Dream's where it rests on his knee. "Hey, it's not your fault. And you know, there's still audiobooks."

Dream chuckles. "I can undo the curse," he says. Which is relieving. "And I will destroy this." He sets the poetry book on the coffee table with a look of menace.

"You know, I haven't even read it?" Hob says. "Just the first few pages."

"It is very good," Dream says, to his surprise. "Hence its danger." Then he turns Hob's face towards him with a hand on his chin. Hob goes totally still in surprise. With his other hand, Dream taps his forehead, and a static shock jumps through Hob's body. "There."

A cloud Hob hadn't realized was covering his mind dissipates. "That easy?"

"For me." Dream stands again, swiping up the poetry book. He looks like he's about to leave, and Hob is almost reeling too much to stop him, but he manages to snag Dream's sleeve. "Wait, won't you stay and finish your coffee? And I want to hear about the book that's not actually in Arabic."

Dream gives him a tiny smile. "Very well. For a little while." He tucks the poetry book into the depths of his coat, and Hob doesn't see it again.

Hob shepherds him back downstairs, makes him more coffee as the other's gone cold, and hears all about The Golden Tree, a novel about a modern-day quest inspired by the Holy Grail. And nothing more about curses, though he is rather interested in that, too.

And in Dream. And his strange magic. And his serendipities.

But he figures he'll have time to learn more about that.

Especially if he's intent on courting the occult.

[chvnnie]

Okay: but like break-up sex with chan?

He wants children but you don't and I'm imagining just praise, tears and adoringly looks of love and pain.

me: happily opens asks

angst: exists

me: typing through tears

SMUT - MINORS DNI

The last truck left a little over an hour ago, memories tucked away in pink tubs and light brown, flimsy boxes. You’re only moving across town, there was really no reason to hire movers. But each time you touched a tub, or a box, everything returned to you. Why your stuff was packed away, the five hour “argument” last week.

Was it even an argument? Maybe it started that way. He had come home late. Mail in hand, excited to show you an announcement Changbin had sent. You smiled when you opened it, sharing in your partner’s joy.

“I can’t wait for that to be us.”

And then it crashed. Voices raised in frustration, pain. Tears flooding the tiny kitchen as you both walked in circles. Back and forth, back and forth, until your voice was raw and his eyes were on fire. It was just past four in the morning, and your back was against the fridge. Chan sat directly across from you, head rolled back against the cabinet. He’s sniffling, and you’re exhausted.

“What now?”

All things considered, it was amicable. There was no resentment on either end; both of you knew this could be possible. Though you both hoped and hoped someone would budge. Change their mind.

Neither of you did, and thus ended the most beautiful thing on the planet. The apocalypse on the horizon, each second more precious than the last. When a love like this dies, so does everything around it.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The front door opens. Shuts. Heavy, familiar footsteps up the stairs. Turn to the right, reach for the bedroom door handle—

But the door is propped open. And inside you sit, knees to chest. Chin on knees. Tears in eyes.

“I didn’t want to leave until you got back.”

Chan nods, trying to focus his attention on anything but how drastically different the bedroom looks. Even if there aren’t any noticeable changes, he can tell the difference. There’s something missing. As if without it, there’s no life.

“Thank you.” His voice is raspy. Still heavy with tears.

You simply nod, finally looking at him. Fuck. Fuck, why would you do that? The agony is back, claws and teeth, ripping you to shreds.

At least you won’t have to watch the world implode.

“This sucks.” You bring the heel of your palms to your eyes, rubbing roughly. Don’t cry. Don’t. Do. It.

Chan huffs a laugh. “Yeah. Fucking sucks.”

“Chan, I’m so sorry—“

He waves the apology away. Out the window, as if it never existed. “You have nothing to apologize for. We can’t help our wants.”

Can’t help our wants. Like either of you want this.

You finally stand, feet hitting the hardwood floor. Though the urge to give the room once last look tugs on you, you can’t do it. You’re already barely breathing.

“Hug?”

No is never an option. Not when it comes to him, not when it comes to you. Arms open, Chan accepts your embrace, giving you a firm squeeze. You let your eyes shut, holding back every tear that wants to spill. In the car. Not here.

He cradles the back of your head, pressing a light kiss at the top. “I’m always going to be here, you know? This isn’t the end of us. It’s just…”

He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.

You look up, not leaving his embrace even for a second. “I’m always going to love you, Chan.”

The first tear comes from him. “Always have loved you, and never will stop.”

What is this force? The grounds are crumbling and separating, yet they’re pulling you together. Who kisses first, was it you? Offering a final goodbye? Or him? Desperate to remember your taste?

Does it truly matter?

In the distance, there are explosions. The dusk sky lighting up with a million fireworks. Planets, stars, universes. The end of it all.

You’re certain his shirt came off first. Followed by your sweater, both in a pile by the door. It’s when your back hits the bed that things blur; firsthand accounts are never truly accurate.

How will you remember the end of the world?

Limbs tangled, tongues clashing. Chan knows just how to please you. Deep thrusts, softly pressing your sweet spot. It’s not too fast, but not too slow. The perfect way to love you.

Your knees buckle, thighs twitch. Breaking the kiss, you search your ex’s eyes. In the galaxy, there’s only one thing left. A small, golden orb. Home to you and him.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

“F-fuck.” You say breathlessly. “‘S good. S-so good.”

And he smiles. Oh, how it brightens the room even when the sky is on fire. “Yeah?”

A nod.

“Good.” He grunts as he starts to drag out his thrusts. Making it even better. “That’s what you deserve, angel.”

He’s beautiful. Perfectly sculpted face, wonderful smile, bright eyes. Otherworldly. You’re proud to say he was once yours.

“I love you.” Chan says again. Though you’ll never tire of it, it breaks your soul to hear it. Like this. “Until the end of times. I adore you, my girl.”

You sniffle. Cry. It’s okay. “B-but.”

There’s no need for more.

“You’re always mine.” His voice cracks. “My girl. Until the e-end of time.”

When your lips crash again, the rumbling is louder.

How will you remember the end of the world?

You hope like this.

[spif-lol]

Reasons why the simpsons hit and run stream is jerma's best stream

it's ELEVEN HOURS LONG

you get to witness his slow descent into madness as he insists on playing the whole game in one sitting

I can watch it when i replay the game, would recommend makes it way more enjoyable

he spends too much time doing really bad impressions trying to copy voice lines for the game and yelling "HIRE ME IM AVAILABLE"

He decides to confess half an hour in that he knows nothing about the simpsons and has only seen like one or two episodes

this is ten minutes after he references a specific episode, and then proceeds to get told off for 'spoiling' an episode of the simpsons (from like 1995) by chat

Chat also somehow manages to convince him that ten year old boy Bart Simpson's famous catchphrase from everyone's favourite family animated tv show is 'eat ass'

In general it switches between him refusing to believe things people tell him about the game despite being true and falling for obvious lies

he starts the game going 'lol wouldnt it be funny if you could run over simpsons characters' and then jokingly drives towards civillians thinking they'll jump out of the way. they go flying. he is so confused

the dissonance between early and later parts of the stream are palpable. It turns from a cheerful and lighthearted exploration of a funny simpsons game that he refuses to take seriously or accept that it could genuinely make him angry, and transforms into a desperate race against time, his computer and his own hubris as he seeks simply to finish the game so he can sleep. This stream destroys him.

the way the stream highlights are named on his youtube is hilarious. "Jerma will not get angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "Jerma might get a bit angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "d'oh"

it's extremely funny how many time he's convinced he's in the last level of the game, only to be wrong. the first time he thinks that is in the first section and hour of the stream

easily his most rewatchable stream (this is gonna cover a lot of dot points)

the amount of tragic irony and foreshadowing in this stream is almost cinematic.

at the very start of the game he complains about the music being too loud and monologues about sounds and over stimulation of game music bothers him, which of course will be very funny in the finale

he also comments a few time at the start about how annoying homer's random voice lines are, and says 'oh god he's gonna repeat that a thousand times before the end of this game'. he's right, and it nearly drives him crazy by the final mission

speaking of the final mission(s), the second time he has to transport the toxic sludge from power plant to the school he like pauses the game and very seriously addresses chat like 'alright tell me right now are the next three levels also me driving the nuclear waste to the school that cant be possible right'. and then just accepting in defeat that that is in fact how this incredibly stupid and difficult children's game finishes

when he first races against the malibu stacy car and gets destroyed he gets mad and says he wishes he could drive that car. then when he gets to drive it in later levels he quickly decides its his favourite and maintains that until the end of the game

on rewatch... you hear him audibly crack open a can that chat demands he prove to them is soft drink and not alcohol like A WHOLE HOUR before The Incident and it's a little like watching a disaster movie where you see the characters laughing and having fun little knowing how they are being hastened towards their own doom... like chat keeps bugging him about it, he keeps making excuses, he keeps sipping the drink. they bring attention to it so much and you listen to it just knowing the pain that is yet to come. dramatic irony at its finest and most heartache inducing

15. ohmyfucking gaaaawd no! no... god... ICANDOITINAJUMP! ..... BART. WHERE IS HE??? BAAART!!!! AAAUUGH

16. actually fr there's a lot of memorable jerma lines in this stream, rewatching it is like watching a jerma funny moment compilation

17. the final couple of levels where he is getting steadily more overwhelmed to the point of ferality, and then he says he has an idea and goes to the sound menu and turns everything off. voice lines. music. sound effects. and then we watch him play the level in complete silence. and it actually helps him focus its really funny

18. the whole tragic sequence where he is in the FINAL LEVEL. he has played it so many times and just missed it by a few seconds. he is tired. he is hungry. he just wants to get off stream and eat a BURGER. he is focussing as hard as he can. he is almost there. he runs over too many things and the police are after him. but its okay. he's doing it! he's gonna make it!!! he gets to the school with time to spare and is sucked up into the end of the game beam. it's over. except then the police get sucked into the beam as well. he gets arrested in the beam. which teleports him and the car out of the beam. WHICH MEANS THE TIMER RUNS OUT AND HE LOSES. so he has to do it all over again. it's actually so so so funny and also something i think i personally wouldn't survive if i was in jerma's position in that moment

19. okay we have to talk about The Incident. bc i already alluded to it and bc like, i couldn't not talk about it. as stated above Jerma cracks open a can so you can hear it and chat immediately accuses him of being an alcoholic. he adamantly insists that it is a soft drink not a beer but they refuse to believe him unless he proves it by showing camera. he's playing on a modded ps2 pc port or whatever of the simpsons so it's a complicated setup and he explains that it would be too hard and also he's shirtless so they will just have to believe without seeing. chat continues to harass him while he goes on to play the game, specifically most of the lisa level. he laughs it off but eventually caves, gets up and get a blanket to cover himself and then alt tabs, holds his can up to the camera and says 'alright you satisfied? that might have just fucked up the game'. so then he tries to tab back into the game and it. crashes. hard. so hard that the game won't actually turn back on. so jerma's cursing and fiddling with the controls and saying its over. then it finally reboots and the game works and he's so relieved and it loads and he realises that he has lost SO MUCH PROGRESS. he's back at the start of the lisa section. this is truly the turning point of the game where it goes from being a fun experience to a nightmare gauntlet

20. on a related note: jerma waiting with bated breath *sound of simpsons game booting back up after refusing to for far too long* jerma: yeeeAAAAAH

21. im watching it right now as i replay, which is why im thinking about it obv. so i will almost certainly have more to add to this

[imagines--galore]

Hi! I saw you were doing Jim Hawkins requests so here I am!

Can we have Jim x gn!reader who is a musician and frequently performs at the Inn? and so as reader spends more time there Jim ends up crushing on them?

(Bonus points if reader ends up writing a song abt Jim agsgsgaga)

Summary: Music was a language understood throughout the entire galaxy. Hopefully the cute boy working at the Inn you performed at finally gets the message you were trying to send him through your song. Pairing: Jim Hawkins x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Tooth-rotting aching fluff. Thats what I wrote here. Not that I'm complaining. :P And yes I did write the poem or song or bunch of words that I thought would make a good song? I dunno. Hope you enjoy!

"Alright then Mrs Hawkins! Everything is set up and ready to go for tonight's grand re-opening." You called out, jumping down from the ladder where you were hanging another streamer from the ceiling. Sarah Hawkins glanced up from where she had been finalizing the menu. "It looks amazing y/n, though honestly I would prefer if you call me Sarah instead, you've been working at the Inn for so long now." She said with that soft maternal smile you always wore.

You shrugged, pushing your hands in your pockets. "I could, but I've been calling you Mrs Hawkins, or Mrs H for so long now it would seem weird." You admitted, a sheepish smile pulling at your lips. Sarah stood from her seat and approached you with her arms out. You eagerly accepted the hug. "Oh I can't believe its been so long. Nearly seven years and here you still are. My best musician." The praise had you rolling your eyes a little, though it didn't stop the blush to form on your cheeks.

"I'm your only musician Mrs H." You reminded her, to which the older woman simply laughed and tapped your nose playfully. "Because you're the best. So why would I need anyone else?"

With that Sarah walked towards the kitchen, hoping to wrap up the last of the food items to be cooked for that night's party.

The re-opening of the Benbow Inn.

You had been just as devastated as Sarah when it had burned down. The Inn had become something of a sanctuary for you. A place where you could come and just be yourself, and not have to put up a strong front given your lack of family.

Oh you had a family. A father who preferred to work before drowning away whatever sorrows he had in alcohol. Leaving you to fend for yourself from a rather young age.

You had begun to do little odd jobs to try and earn some money. School was free, as was the lunch that they served, and you bought clothes from the cheapest shop possible.

But what you really wanted the money for, was to get a new piano. Or really any musical instrument.

Music was everything for you. It was your way to express all that you felt. Not to mention it was the only connection you had to your mother.

She had taught you everything you knew when she had been alive. Every note, every song, ever key, every symphony, it was all her.

You had her old piano at home. And when your father wasn't home you would try your best to coax a tune out of the instrument. It was old and needed quite a few repairs and tuning, but that cost a lot of money.

So, you did odd jobs to try and come up with that.

But it wasn't until you had seen an ad in the newspaper, inquiring after a musician who could play at an Inn, did you ever think of working while playing music.

You had rushed to the address, and after a short meeting with the owner, and a few demos of you playing on the piano there, which was in much better condition then your own, you were hired.

And you loved every moment of it.

Not just because you got to play for hours on end, but also because Sarah Hawkins, was an amazing boss. She had taken one look at your pinched face and skinny body, and had thrown in a free hot meal during your work hours. You had tried to tell her no, but the woman had insisted. So, you opted to help out in the kitchen whenever things would get too busy at the Inn.

But, primarily, you played the piano, contributing to the light and fun atmosphere of the Inn, and generally pleasing the patrons. You played tunes from all over the galaxy, and everyone had requests.

The best part about working at the Inn though?

You met Jim Hawkins.

You had seen him around school before, and you were a little embarrassed to admit, but you did have a crush on him. He was cute, not to mention cool and smart.

Working at the Inn, which you had no idea his mother owned, gave you the chance to get to know him better. Talk to him, and just be around him.

And though you had been a little nervous at first, slowly that had all changed, and the both of you became friends.

Well he was your friend whom you had a crush on.

Little did you know, you were also the friend he had a crush on.

Not that either of you would come out and say it out loud. Besides you barely had time to do anything other then work at the Inn, school and take care of things at home. You didn't have time for boys.

But then Jim found a strange round map and pirates burned the Inn down in search of it.

You were made aware of it all the next morning when you arrived for work and was met with the charred skeletal remains of the place you thought of as your second home. Devastation snaked under your skin and settled into your heart. A gasp of horror fell from your lips as you thought of Mrs Hawkins and Jim.

Had they made it out?

Luckily one of the fire squad patrons were nearby and informed you that they were safe were staying with a friend. With the address memorized you raced towards your destination on the scooter you and Jim had scraped from the junkyard and fixed.

Or rather you had stood to the side while he fixed it.

Though you'd been told they were alive, you didn't believe it.

And wouldn't believe it until you saw them both for yourself.

You banged on the door of the rather large estate, pushing past Dr. Doppler as soon as he opened the door. Voices from down the corridor had you racing down the polished floors with the good Doctor at your heels.

The moment you burst through the doors and saw both Jim and his Mother sitting around a small table, a strange sound escaped you. One that was a combination of several emotions, but the only one you were able to properly comprehend was the relief that coursed through your veins.

Though it was nothing compared to the elation you felt once you had calmed down and had engulfed both of them in a hug that remade your heart.

It didn't take too long for everything to be explained, and though you were a little unsure of the expedition, you didn't voice it. Not when Jim got so excited talking about it. You could see that Sarah shared your uncertainty as well, but then she didn't say anything either. Once the older woman had excused herself to get to bed, and Dr. Doppler had wandered off to gather more books and such for the journey ahead, you turned your attention to Jim.

"You sure this is a good idea Jim? I mean chasing a story never ends well." But Jim only held up the round orb which you had learned was the map to Treasure Planet. "Y/n, this thing is proof that its more then just stories. And like I told Mom, with that treasure we can build a new Inn. We can even fit it with the piano you've always wanted."

A little taken aback that he would want to share the treasure with you and actually buy something you would love surprised you. You blinked but pushed that feeling aside in favor of continuing the conversation. "Treasure and truth aside, Jim are you sure? I mean your mom will be all alone." You said, glancing in the direction of the door where Sarah had walked out of an hour or so ago.

Had it really been that long since they'd been talking?

Jim frowned. "What do you mean she'll be alone? Won't you come and visit her?" He asked, the confusion clear on his face. You blinked, mouth falling open in surprise. "Wa-wait, of course I'll come visit her-" You began, only to be cut off by him. "Then she won't be alone. I know you'll take care of her while I'm gone."

You stared.

How was it possible that one boy could cause your heart to stop and then restart again?!

And with the way he was looking at you with those wide eyes!

You groaned. "You're doing it again." You grumbled, shoving him back by his face. Jim laughed, knowing exactly what you meant, having used the tactic before. "I know, but I also know I don't have to convince you because you'll come anyway."

Rolling your eyes you kicked at his legs from under the table. "Yeah, yeah. Just-" You trailed off, biting your lower lip and glancing at the table before looking back up at him.

"Just be careful. I don't want to loose you too."

The light of the fire hid the blush that blazed across your cheeks, though it didn't diminish the worry in your eyes. Jim, now wearing a serious expression, reached out to take your hand and give it a comforting squeeze.

"You won't. I promise."

You lived with that promise through the months he was gone.

And when he returned, triumphant and the hero he was always meant to be, you had hugged him as tightly as you could. To your delight, where he had always held back a little when it came to hugs, this one was unrestrained and just as eagerly given as it was received.

Now here you were, settling onto the bench as the party-goers quietened down so that you would begin to play. Sarah had spared no expense, and had even bought you a new dress for the occasion. You'd been reluctant at first, but a nudge from Jim had you accepting the dress.

What you had truly been eager for, was to play on the piano once again.

True to his word, Jim had bought the piano you had wanted for so long. You'd very nearly kissed the boy right then and there, but had settled for a hug that toppled him over.

Though you did sneak in a peck to the cheek before you continued to coo over the instrument.

And now you would get to play a rather special song on it.

One that you had written yourself during the months Jim had been away. This song was your love letter to the boy you had fallen in love with.

What they said was true.

Absence made the heart grow fonder.

And it hadn't taken you long to realize that your feelings for your friend went beyond that of simple friendship.

As you played a few experimental keys, your eyes drifted to where Jim stood in his brand new Academy uniform next to his Mother. His encouraging smile was all you needed.

You began to play.

And then you began to sing.

A big surprise since you hardly ever sang in public.

Let me keep you where my belief lies For if I do not become yours I shall never belong to anyone

The words had come to you, late at night when you had been in bed, your heart aching with how much you missed him.

Wherever should the wind take you I wish to be by your side

You had always known Jim would soar higher then anyone you could ever to know. You just hoped that he would allow you to remain by his side when he did.

These winds may be fleeting Carry us to places never before explored But I do not care so long as you are with me And I with you

Anything to be with him. To be beside him and share in his next adventure. Even if it meant staying behind and waiting for him to come back to you.

Whatever memories that we create They shall remain with us forevermore For in them my true strength lies That helps me get through the day and the nights

And those memories of you both, going about your lives, getting in trouble, digging through the junkyard with him, him sitting to listen to you practice for hours on end? They had been what had helped you get through the days and nights.

The very essence of my thoughts Exist because of you and for you With every caress of the wind I can hear your name echoing all around me

Where your gaze had been trained on the ivory keys as your finger danced along them, now they raised up. Only to find Jim standing next to your beside the piano. Watching you with a strange look in his eyes. One that you had never seen in them before Why does your face resemble my dreams? Perhaps you weren't mine yesterday Nor will you be mine tomorrow But you are mine today

The final keys of the song died as your fingers stilled. But you weren't done.

Not yet.

"For all my love is yours." You barely sang the final lyric as you stood up, whispering the words instead as Jim reached out and gently took your hand.

He smiled at you.

And you smiled at him.

The assembled guests burst into applause. But neither of you truly noticed. He leaned in, and you closed your eyes as he drew closer.

His lips found yours, and you knew.

Your fears were unfounded.

For you would never loose him.

[maplebellsmods]

The Actor Overhaul Mod adds some new features to acting in Get Famous. I was super excited about the fact that there was going to be an acting career in the sims, but the career felt a little shallow after replaying it more than once. There wasn't much depth to it and I wanted to add some features that could make it more fun.

What is this mod?

Here are the new additions I have added with the mod.

Actor Dashboard

I have created a dashboard, for actors and aspiring actors. This dashboard will only be available if you have the acting skill. The first option you can choose is Browse Acting Roles. It didn't make sense to me that you could only be an actor, or have gigs if you chose the career. So with this new menu, you can browse through different roles and sometimes make money. Some jobs can also increase your fame and reputation. Other jobs will decrease them.

So with this new menu, you can browse through different roles and sometimes make money. Some jobs can also increase your fame and reputation. Other jobs will decrease them.

The next option is to sign up for the Ward School of Arts Acting Department. This will be in a separate section. Down below.

You can also take Local Acting Classes. This option was made for sims who may already have jobs and do not have a lot of time to focus on acting, but they still do what to increase their acting skill. The local acting classes are evening classes and you need to pay the $100 fee to attend each time.

Preparing Headshot, Acting Resume, and Demo Reel will increase your reputation and give you a boosting career-wise.

One is more expensive than the other. So naturally the result you get from the more expensive one will be better. Once you gather all of those materials you will be able to submit to auditions and casting calls. This will give you more exposure.

Finally, you can now hire an agent. The agent is useful for a lot of things. (If you want to join the EA acting career you will still have to select an agency. I was unable to separate the two.) When you click on the "Find an Agent" option and submit your info, an agent will contact you maybe 24 hours later or more. If you aren't interested in them, simply do not pickup. But if you are press "Ok" on the call. And you will have the option to "Schedule Meeting With Agent" in the 'MB Menu' category.

The agent will come where your sim is located (doesn't have to be at home). These are the interactions you can have with them.

If you want to hire an agent. You can press hire on agent and they will now represent your sim. Keep in mind if you aren't satisfied with their work you can always fire them. There are a few things your agent can do for your sim.

Now circling back to the Acting Student Career:

Your Sim can now join an Acting Student Career. I'd say it's a semi-active career. They do go to the rabbit hole for class, but there are interactions outside of that which make it more interactive.

First of all the first thing you have to do is to go to the 'Actor Dashboard', press on the 'Sign up Option'.

You can press on get info, this will give your sim more information about how to join the school. Once you are ready you can click on 'Audition'. A Ward Student Recruiter will show up. Once they show you MUST choose the 'Start Auditions' option. Don't press on anything else.

This will start an event and there are goals your sim will have to go through. One of the goals, 'Sword Fight'. will require a this object.

You can find it in BB. If you cannot find it, just look it up in the search bar. Finally, after you complete all of the goals you can cancel the event or wait it out. Once the event is over you will know whether or not your sim is accepted.

If your sim is admitted with a scholarship you can find the job, in the 'Find Job' section. If you are not then try again. But if you have just been admitted you will need to pay the fee first and then you can join.

Once you join the career, each level has a different objective you need to do in order to move on to the next one. In total there are eight levels.

Here are the objectives for each level

- Level 2: Perform in School Production

- Level 3: Submit Paper on the History of theater

- Level 4: Plan and Produce a Production

- Level 5: Volunteer to perform for a charity

- Level 6: Book an acting gig

- Level 7: Get your demo reel, headshot and resume.

- Level 8: Find an Agent.

- All Levels: Pass Term Exam: This is a requirement for all levels. I recommend you do this last for each one of the levels. ESPECIALLY the last one.

The first activity your sim will have to do is to perform in a school production. The way this happens is your sim will audition for a role first, and depending on how skilled they are they will be assigned a role. When your sim gets a role assigned to them they should go to practice for a while before performing in the production. If they don't practice or don't practice enough they will most likely not do well in production.

The next step which is "Submit Paper on the History of Theater" will use the computer. In the 'Write' pie menu or your computer will be available. The options that are available for your sim will increase the score they may receive, but it isn't a requirement. You can also interview a celebrity and/or actor for this assignment. It isn't a requirement. Completing this step will give you more points, but it can be hard to complete because if you don't know celebrities it's hard to do this. So doing this will truly impress the professors! Once you are ready submit the paper and then you will be able to view your score once they are released.

Plan and Produce a Production is an objective for Level 4 sims. There are a few things your sim must do to complete this objective. First of all, they have to choose a theme for their production. Then once are ready you can Start the Audition Process.

If you are familiar with my other events mod you may be familiar with the 'Hire this Role'. So for this you will need to invite people or "hire" them to cast roles for the production. Once the event starts your sim will have a few options.

This is an activity and not a timed event so you can take your time to interview sims, and hire them. For the 'Auditioners' you will be able to see them Audition. All you have to do is press on the 'Audition' interaction and then they will start acting. (If you press on the interaction and it doesn't work, click again and it should work)

When you have completed all the required activities you can cancel the event. The game will tell you the event was unsuccessful you can ignore this.

Volunteering to perform for a charity is pretty simple. There is a list of charities your sim will be able to go to. They are each available at different times and days, just select one, go to your performance and the goal will be complete.

The next objectives are objectives we have already gone over. But for Book and Acting there are gigs exclusive to Ward Acting Students.

On the last level, once you Find an Agent, you should then go to your term exam. Passing the exam will make remove your sim from the institution. Being a graduate of this school will increase your rep and fame.

Other Fixes

Aside from the new features I have also made some changes to some already existing features that I found annoying in the game. This file is optional and you will be able to delete it if you do not want it. I have changed the gig payout in the acting career. This way your sim will receive more money when they are higher up in the career. Fame will also decay at a slower rate. This way your sim doesn't constantly have to perform fame activities.

Other Fixes

Aside from the new features I have also made some changes to some already existing features that I found annoying in the game. This file is optional and you will be able to delete it if you do not want it. I have changed the gig payout in the acting career. This way your sim will receive more money when they are higher up in the career. Fame will also decay at a slower rate. This way your sim doesn't constantly have to perform fame activities.

This really took a long time to make but I hope you enjoy it!

What else do I need for the mod?

Lumpinou's Mood Pack: Here

Maplebell Pie Menu: Download Below

Does this mod require any DLC?

Get Famous

Questions and concerns you might have?

Some of this is so inaccurate and doesn't reflect real life.

I tried to do as much research as possible about acting and info about how to get started with it. Some stuff may not mirror real life and that may or may not be intentional.

Will you add more to this?

Yes

I'm experiencing some weird bugs!

Let me know, please.

Report it here: Mod Bug Report

I have different questions about the mod.

If you have questions about something, let me know.

How to install the mod?

Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Mods <--- Unzip the file and make sure it's placed in this path.

Delete the "maplebell_actingoverhaulfixes(optional).package" if you don't want it.

Public March 26: Download Here

[yourwitchybrother]

so im very new to hellenic polytheism, and ive been seeing potential signs of dionysus reaching out to me, and im curious how i would go about reaching out to a deity. (this is my first time😭)

as in like, how do i know if they’ve accepted, and if i ask for a specific sign …. what kind of sign do i ask for??? i would like some specifics of reaching out to deities !!

Ciao, hello!! This is an awesome question and, honestly, not something I've seen or heard talked about too often! So, lets dive into it.

The Basics of Deity Work

First things first, you think a deity's reaching out to you. Before coming to this conclusion, ask yourself a few questions.

☀ Is there a different, physical reason behind these signs occurring? Or do they seem intentional / what's the pattern of these signs? ☀ Could there be a different deity reaching out to me? Or is it who I believe it is? ☀ Could this also simply be some other non-divine energy reaching out to me? Depending on the signs, you can try narrowing it down from here.

But I've reached my conclusion, and it is a deity, so what now?

In that case, congratulations! The next step would be worship if you don't already worship this deity. They could be sending you signs in an attempt to draw you in rather than outright work with you. This means you should start with the most basic form of deity work: Worship.

Consider this a crash-course on worship. Here are some tips and advice.

☀ Worship is different from devotion - you have not reached that part with your deity yet. You're in the beginning stage. Think of it as being a new hire when you've been hired to a new job. Ask your coworkers with more experience (devotees, long-time worshippers, god spouses, priests, etc.) for some advice with navigating the new job. They're going to be able to give you more specific advice. ☀ Worship does not have to be some extravagant thing involving rituals every day or invocations 24/7. It can simply be about praying, offering, and thanking. Thinking about them, remembering them, learning about them, casually. When you become a devotee (which can be on your terms or, in some cases, the deity will approach you about this), this casual worship can turn into scheduled, routine devotional practice. ☀ When worshipping, use caution. Make sure you are properly vetting and are actually communing with the right entity. Tricksters like to get involved in relationships that aren't theirs. Even trickster gods, not just trickster spirits or no-good energies. Loki pretended to be Apollo before I realized that Apollo weirdly had two energies that were completely different from one another.

Well, now I've decided / been asked to become a Devotee. What does that look like?

I'm glad you asked, buddy!! Devotion is entirely dependent on your relationship and standing with a deity. My devotion consists of a lot of sitting with my Gods, talking to them, researching them, and writing about them. I consider this blog an act of devotion and my posts are smaller acts of devotion and love.

Here's your devotion crash-course.

☀ First and foremost: Talk about them. This may be hard to do if you aren't in an accepting environment, so in this case, find another outlet. Write about them in your journal or grimoire. Start a blog or social media page dedicated to them and what they stand for. Make subtle mentions of them. Or, if you're home alone, tell the stillness of your home about them. ☀ Divination is your best friend, especially if you struggle to see and/or hear them. Divination helps with clarifying energies and helps you communicate with them directly or through a middle-man (for example, the Fox spirit I'm building a relationship with would be a middle-man between me and Apollo or Loki or any of my Gods if I don't get a response or hear back from them when I need to pass a message, and he'll return messages to me). ☀ Research them. Come up with a schedule if it helps, or try to do it whenever you're free and have enough spoons. Back when I started worshipping Apollo, it started with me just doing research on who he was. Then, when I became a devotee of his, this research began getting a lot deeper and I started learning a lot of UPG. ☀ Do things that connect to what they represent. Act and get on stage for Dionysos. Sing for Apollo. Grow and nurture plants for Demeter. Clean and tidy your house for Hestia. Save money for King Hades. Stretch your back for Hermes. Play a prank for Loki, and send someone love for Venus. Connect with the things under their rule. ☀ Honor their families and loved ones. For Apollo, I veil. Yes, in part out of devotion for him, but more recently, I do so on behalf of his mother, Leto.

At the end of the day, devotion is different between practitioners. But with that being said, let's kind of get to the point because I went on a bit of a ramble there.

Reaching out to the deity... How exactly?

This process can prove to be a tad bit vexatious simply because of the fact that it's a process of trial and error. Sometimes, deities may not immediately respond, or you may get into contact with the wrong entity, or there may be a block - anything. But the first thing you're going to want to do is invoke them.

This looks different for everyone. I've found it easiest to call them by praying to them and formally requesting their presence. But for some people, it can look like repeating their name, shaking their fists at the sky, you name it, it's probably been done. But invoking them is how it starts. Since you're just starting out, I'd recommend something more formal like lighting their candle and praying, or simply just praying to them.

After that, hold a divination session using your preferred method (mine is a tarot session!) after having cast a circle and putting up proper protections. The Old Gods have an intense energy that can throw you off, overwhelm you, or upset you, so cast a circle, veil, and do whatever you need to do to protect your energy. This may take some trial and error.

Once you get into contact with them, ask them if they're reaching out for the sake of worship, or for the sake of working with you. Ask what they'd like to help you with. Ask what they'd like in return. Ask them anything you need to clarify the boundaries and constraints of your relationship with them. Communication is key.

Finally, the conclusion.

I really do hope this helps, please don't be afraid to ask me some clarifying questions to better understand! Or, if you need a deity reading, I may be revamping my etsy to open up readings soon.... 👀👀

I hope this helps you out, and whoever happens to find this. A mi piace aiutare la gente <3 Blessed be, and may the Sun be your guide! A domani!

[jessicaseroticramblings]

The year was coming to an end.

When she signed the employment contract, Jessica knew what the stipulations were. She had to generate enough sales to cover her costs and give the office a profit. Otherwise, she would need to make up the difference.

The end of the quarter was imminent, and failing the best sales week of her year, Jessica was not going to meet her target.

She had heard rumors of how Daniel, her boss and owner of the firm, accepted repayment. But these were just hushed rumors – nothing more.

It was the last Friday of the year before the holiday close when she was summoned into his office.

She had only been in there a few times – mainly during her interview. It was an old-fashioned office, laden with dark oak and decanters filled with fancy liquors.

He was waiting for her in his oversized, high-backed chair. His dress was standard for “casual” Friday – slacks, no jacket, tie, and a vest to keep everything together. She wasn’t yet comfortable enough to do “casual” herself, especially with her subpar numbers. Her dress was pristine, stylish – she knew how to dress, how to accentuate her charms.

He offered her a chair and a drink. She accepted the former and declined the latter. He sipped his whisky, placed it down on the waiting coaster, then leaned forward on his mahogany desk.

His voice was so deep that it almost vibrated the rocks in his scotch. “Do you know why you are here, Jessica?” She didn’t trust her voice not to break, so she simply nodded in reply. “I took a chance on hiring you. You were doing so well, and then your performance just went to shit. We can’t have that. I have a business to run. And that business is not supporting wayward girls who can’t do their jobs.”

He took another drink before continuing. “I like having you here. You try hard, but not hard enough. I think it’s really just an issue of finding the right motivation for you.”

Jessica opened her mouth to interject. “I don’t think it’s a matter of…”

He quietly resumed control of the conversation, using his same measured tone. “Stop talking.” She immediately paused, responding to the quiet power in his voice.

“With girls like you, I know just the motivational tool.” He stood up, and Jessica caught her breath as she realized his pants were open. This was it, what she had heard about.

She didn’t know was she was expecting, but what she saw was a gorgeous cock. Devastatingly erect, large and thick, but not to the point of causing logistical and biological issues. The large head shined, already slick with some of his pre-cum.

He beckoned her to him, and she walked to him, powerless, like a zombie. He lifted her dress over her head, removed her panties and bra, and bent her over his desk. He rubbed his cock on her waiting labia.

“This is what’s going to happen, Jessica. We’re going to fuck now, just once, to make up for what you owe me”. With that, he pushed his cock inside. Jessica was surprised at how wet she was, at how she easily could take him inside, at how fucking good he felt inside her.

His thrusting increased in time. She moaned with the feeling, the pressure on her vaginal walls, the perfect way in which she was stretched. Short gasps escaped her lips. An orgasm already threatened her, as his hands tightly closed on her hips.

“You will love fucking this cock.. But I’m never going to fuck you again, never going to let you experience it again, unless you hit your targets. Is that clear?”

The feral sounds that escaped her lips as she climaxed were the only agreement he needed to amend their workplace contract. 

He kept his hips working, knowing that another orgasm would only add further motivation to his charge.

After this, Jessica would do whatever she could to make this happen again…and again…and again…

[running-swimming-living]

This is a life update. TL:DR I quit my job

Below is just a stream of consciousness. Perhaps you will find something illuminating or truthful in it.

I've been trying to write this for about two weeks now. I've been trying to figure out how to convey what I want without sharing too much. I feel like I am always trying to hide the parts of myself that are unbecoming. What I'd really like to do is share my journey as authentically as I can. That means the mental illness, the trauma, the struggle, the poor dieting and all the exercise. I don't want to be half of a person anymore.

We all have aspects of ourselves we don't share. But the toll of being so open about something so profound in my life is suffocating at times. How is it I can have a disability that nobody talks about?

But when the topic comes up, I'm not willing to share. Does that make me a coward?

I forgot to lie at church. The topic of my 78 year old friend came up and I couldn't bring myself to say that I met her because we both have mental illness. Instead, I said, "through mutual friends." But isn't that how I live my life? By lying about my illness, the symptoms, my quality of life, and the jobs I work.

I left my job because I was having symptoms regarding my mental illness and trauma. I don't want that. But it's the first time I've had to accept that my illness and past life experiences are holding me back from growing up in ways I didn't expect. I always knew I'd be entry level at 30. But I didn't realize exactly what entry level would mean. I thought I could do this 40 hr a week job for a decent pay and get on with life. But it's not that simple.

So now I'm here trying to find a job that is a good fit with someone who would hire someone like me. And that is such a real fear. I don't come without some risks.

But I have so much to offer. I can accomplish so much when I have the right support and the right environment. I certainly have skills and value. But where I find the most success with myself is where I don't know.

And I want to be a part of this community. I've been shying away from Tumblr because I feel so isolated and alone. I feel ashamed for who I am. I am not proud of how I continue to let people down. Mostly, myself.

I had a conversation with our Pastor at church. He asked what my fall plans were and I simply said, "I don't know." And he just gave me a look. A look like, "you can do so much better." And that's where I'm at, I guess.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Hello! :)

How would your main 10 skeletons react if their child was chosen for a main role in a play/dance and have been practicing for over a year for the role only to be replaced and not have a role at all?

This actually happened to me when I was taking dance :(

Hope you have a nice day/night!

Undertale Sans - He's sad for his kid, but that happens. It's alright though. If Sans has one weakness, it's clearly not bear to see his family sad. Not only he's going to find you another role, but it will be ten times better than the one you had. He didn't hesitate one second to use Mettaton to have access to some cool opportunities.

Undertale Papyrus - He's so mad they ditched you like this. It's maybe touching him a little more than it should be as well as he used to get ditched from everything as a kid. He still assures you it has nothing to do with your skills and that he's sure you'll find another opportunity soon. Not two days later, he convinces Mettaton to hire you. Being an international star is way better than some role in your school.

Underswap Sans - That's life, kiddo. It's unfair, but it happens often. Blue tries to comfort them the best he can, but he can tell you're disappointed. It's ok though, you can still use what you learn to try somewhere else. He believes in you, he's sure you can find a better opportunity!

Underswap Papyrus - He's so mad at your teacher for just ditching you for no reason. It's unfair, and you clearly wanted to participate a lot. After trying to beg your cause at the school, he's involving some local journalists to make everyone realize how stupid they are to not accept their daughter! He wins in the end and you get your role back.

Underfell Sans - He tells his kid that they didn't deserve them anyway because they're too good for their shitty show. Red is so gonna hack the show to put videos of you training in the middle of the dance performance so everyone sees what they lost. He doesn't care if he gets into trouble. Not his fault you're all jealous.

Underfell Papyrus - He goes full Karen mode and he's storming the dance class to say what he thinks of that bullshit decision. He pays for lessons for his child all year, he even buys them private sessions. Either you pay him back or he's suing you, and oh boy, you don't want him to sue you when he's the best lawyer in the city. Either you give back their child's role or you're going in prison for stealing his money.

Horrortale Sans - He feels guilty. He can tell that's because the kids are scared of him when he's coming to take you home at the end of your classes. You tell him it's not his fault they're racist bitches and that you prefer to leave than support their anti-monster bullshit anyway. He's so proud of you. He's going to help you find another role though. He wants to help.

Horrortale Papyrus - He can tell immediately it's because he's scary and the other parents complained. But that's not going to happen. There's no way you're dropping your dream role for some racist idiots. He's going to tell them what he thinks of this, and of how ashame they should be for showing such an example for the young generation. He casually threatens to sue them for discriminating his child as well because it's what it is: discrimination for being a monster. He's not going to tolerate this. That's ten years since the monsters are out of the Underground, get over it already!

Swapfell Sans - That's fine, he simply pays the class director and tells them nicely that if they keep causing trouble for his child, he's closing their business definitely. The director screams at him for trying to buy privileges. The next day, the building mysteriously explodes during the night. How could that happen? O:

Swapfell Papyrus - That's fine. When you're down, nothing is better than a little revenge. You spend the night throwing dog poop and eggs at every window of the building lol. Rus switches on every faucet of the building too and let them run the entire weekend. Someone is going to have a surprise on Monday. And a water tax so high they're going to faint. That's for the money he lost in their stupid school. He's going to find another role for his kid after that.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Oh, it's fine. He simply goes to see your teacher and gives them the scare of their life by threatening them with his bones and blasters. Either you give their role to their kid or... Well, you don't really want to know what can happen, right? :)

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's disgusted your school would do something so lame after such a long time training. He assures you you're a good dancer though and that they're losing more than you, because you're clearly going to find something better and make them all jealous. When you find a new role, he's sticking posters of your show everywhere on and inside your old school so they all see what they missed.