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

[15000bugs]

week two of work 😁😁😀

[flowercrowngods]

ughhh anyway marvey case fic in which harvey takes a case representing a client who it turns out is covering for someone and taking the fall. and when harvey finds out, he plans to relieve his client of all charges and make sure the right person gets the blame but his client doesn’t want that

turns out he’s (unknowingly lmao) in love with his semi-protégé coworker, and that he feels responsible for what happened and that he can take that fall with a good conscience etc etc anyway it all reminds harvey too much of him and mike and it’s what makes him realise that oh shit i would do the exact same thing for mike holy shit am i really in love with him?? meanwhile mike is just a tad slower on the uptake and races to harvey a couple days later with “harvey we can still win this case, he’s taking the fall for someone, we can expose him easily and all charges will be dropped” and presents evidence etc and harvey tries explaining that they can’t do that if that’s not what their client wants, and that they have to try and win this case anyway, despite the evidence and circumstance stacked against them.

mike won’t accept that, doesn’t understand, tries to sway him until harvey explodes that their client is in love with the other guy, and that the other guy might not even know — about the fall nor about the having fallen. this stuns mike, who never knew that harvey gave a shit about love in the courtroom, and this might not be his usual shtick simply about loyalty.

“and you just let him do this?”

“i’m not letting him do anything, it’s his own goddamn choice, mike. i’m trying to negotiate a deal that gets him out with no prison time, but he may lose his license and—“

“how can he do that?”

and harvey just looks at him, really looks at him, and wonders if mike really doesn’t see it. the parallels. the goddamn symbolism. and after a moment says, “people have done stupider shit for the ones they love.”

and all the air gets sucked out of the room when mike holds his eyes and understanding dawns. it’s quickly replaced by confusion and wonderment before it goes completely blank. a look he never even knew mike was capable of. harvey looks away.

he goes out there to try and score a win anyway. he doesn’t. their client does get a deal, but he loses his license. outside the courtroom, harvey sees him wrapped in the arms of the guy he protected and they’re both crying a little bit but then they kiss and it doesn’t look tinged with regret and harvey tries not to stare but he can’t ignore the heavy feeling lodged inside his chest, and he only looks away when it gets too painful to bear.

this case has cost him a lot, and there are walls he needs to rebuild and feelings he needs to un-realise and get over. instead of going back to the firm, he heads straight home, deciding that work can wait until tomorrow

later that night, a weary harvey is listening to music and nursing a glass of scotch when there’s a knock on the door. mike looks disheveled and a little bit crazed, but determined, and harvey knows the expression, knows not to ask stupid questions and just let the man in. he expects a last ditch effort at a solve, expects intel on another case, expects the smoking gun on something he’s long forgotten.

but it doesn’t come.

“people have done stupider things for the ones they love.”

and harvey sighs. goes back to his scotch and downs it in one go. mike doesn’t let go, though.

“like sticking their head out for the fraud they hired. like threatening their career, their livelihood and their personal freedom for the fraud they hired. like telling their boss ‘he goes, i go’.”

harvey frowns at that, and mike huffs, a little breath of a smile. “jessica told me.”

as if incentivised by the lack of protest, mike comes closer and some of the tension in his shoulders disappears.

“or like breaking a camera in a federal holding cell, yelling at me that i need to let you take the fall, before coming after the man who came after me. and keeping me around, all this time. bringing me back every chance you get. not letting me go.” he sighs, and somehow he’s in harvey’s space now. “stupid things like that?”

harvey can only swallow, and somehow mike’s cologne is in his nose, on his tongue, and he swallows his scent and it’s intoxicating and it’s addictive and it’s dangerous. everything about this. his client lost his license. he only just escaped prison time. that could be them. in a few years. next week. tomorrow. that could be them.

but mike is looking at him now and he’s… he never looked at harvey like this. and harvey is only human. his heart is thrashing against his ribcage so hard it rattles even his hands where they’re hanging by his sides, not knowing what to do.

“mike,” he breathes, and it could mean anything, really. i need you to leave. i need you to let this go. we can’t do this. yes, stupid things like that. what the hell are you talking about. i plead the fifth. he doesn’t say any of that.

“harvey,” mike whispers back, and he smiles, and he smiles so gently and so sweetly, his hand coming up to lightly trail along harvey’s cheek as if he seeks to map his face. harvey lets him. sways a little bit, further into mike’s space, into all that warmth.

and then, somehow, miraculously, they’re kissing. it steals harvey’s breath and warms him from the inside even though it’s not heated, not passionate or desperate.

it’s light. almost playful. it’s absolutely certain and relieved. it’s a promise and a question and an answer and nowhere close to a grand finale. it’s mike’s hand on his cheek and harvey’s hands holding his waist, feeling the soft fabric of the white dress shirt and soaking up the comforting warmth he finds underneath mike’s suit jacket.

they kiss, and it might last forever or maybe just a few seconds. the world doesn’t explode around them, fireworks don’t go off, the air doesn’t sizzle. it’s the complete opposite, actually.

everything slots into place; quiet and certain, like nothing else matters. it’s calm and it’s respite and it makes sense of everything.

it’s harvey and mike, and it’s a first kiss of many.

[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."

[evolnoomym]

Dirty Little Secret 🗝️

Dad’s Boss!Joel Miller x F!OC Moon

General Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Support me |

Summary: Joel likes his employees daughter just a little too much. He really tried to not give in but one fateful evening Joel loses control.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 0.8k

Authors note: No thoughts, just horny. Perhaps Yoga pants kink ??? What do we thinkkkkk??? I’m not promising for this to be amazing. I literally wrote it down in lightspeed.

Warnings: no y/n, F!OC, age-gap, FathersBoss!Joel Miller, dub con, thigh fucking, dry humping, yoga pants fetish???, Joel being a horny lonely dude, he’s sleazy

If I missed anything please let me know ����🏻

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the divider 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 🫶🏻

Amongst the many things Joel shouldn’t do in his position, that being the boss of a successful contracting company, the worst is most likely lusting after the daughter of his favorite employee. You.

A stunning 22 year old sunshine. Something about that warmth made his cock swell again and again. How many times did you simply smile at him, resulting in Joel trying to tame his erection in the bathroom. Though he never finished, or was more was not able to. All his cock wanted was you, but just the mental image was not enough to quench his need.

It began innocently. Running into you when you brought your dad his forgotten lunch, short talks about whatever you could think of and giving you a tour of the company. Being the good girl that you are, you made sure to bring lunch for Joel too and for that alone he wanted to fuck your brains out.

He noticed that yoga pants, precisely those incredible skin tight ones, were your most liked attire to wear. You seem to own them in an array of colors and designs

Unprofessional is also to give an internship to you without paying attention to your skills or experience. He would hire you if you’d ask, he’d do anything and by now he had accepted the slight unhealthy obsession.

Even though Joel loves having you close to him, watching you walk away from him was so much better. Your butt cheeks jiggling so enticingly always leaves him Hard. Painfully so, he hadn’t gotten the chance to sink into a tight, wet and warm hole in forever so his lust was building up each day you tempted him.

Tonight however, he is gonna explode. Joel had watched you enter the cozy little work get-together earlier with your dad. Of course you wear one of those tight yoga pants again, these darn pieces of fabric leave nothing left to the imagination.

Sometimes Joel questions if you’re even wearing underwear. He sits in his office, not drawing up building plans and instead imagining your pussy rubbing against the seam all day.

He drifts off so far that he envisions sniffing and licking those pants after you wore them, these horny thoughts eat away at him.

It all boils over when he sees you slipping into the office of your dad, a chance for him, in there he can finally catch you all alone.

He trails after you carefully, watches you round the corners and bend over the table once you enter his room. A simple action that causes even more of his thoughts to stray, it’s the delicious curves of your ass, how they mold into the crotch where your puffy lips are so visible under the stretched fabric.

It all happens almost as if in trance, he pushes the door shut, locks it. Before you even have the chance to turn around he’s on you, pushing your front down on the table.

He’s tugging his zipper down, freeing his impressive throbbing length and drags his leaking tip all over your clothed butt-cheek.

“Sorry, babygirl, i couldn’t handle seein’ you prance around in those ridiculous pants.” Each word is emphasized with a thrust of his hips into your backside. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips.

“M..Mr.Miller, what are you doing?” You sound frightened and Joel can’t blame you but he has no intention to stop.

“Havin’ some fun, baby, I can make it good for you too,huh?” He humps you for a brief moment before pushing his shiny head between your clenched thighs.

“This is wrong, Mr.Miller you need to stop.” Joel might believe you’re actually telling him off, but the way your voice quivers doesn’t convince him. You don’t wanna get caught but the cock of your father’s boss doesn’t bother you.

“Shh, sweetheart, i can feel how wet you are, don’t lie to me.” The wet spandex material is offering the perfect amount of friction.

Joel can feel the telltale warmth in his groin of a pending orgasm. This might be over swiftly but he’ll make sure it won’t be the only time.

“I’m gonna come, sweetheart, paint those nice pants a lil white, huh, how bout’ that?”

Joel is on cloud nine, rambling in horny stupor.

“I’ll make a mess of you, my good little slut,” and that’s all it takes. He’s groaning loudly, frantically shaking from the harsh unloading of his heavy balls.

Unfortunately he can’t bask in the moment because he hears your father’s voice call for him. He tugs his length back into his jeans, closes his zipper and turns to leave, but not before landing a smack to your buttocks.

“That ass is a fucking present,” he leans down to your ear and whispers “can’t wait to unpack it.”

©️ evolnoomym 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[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.

[destinationtoast]

A tale of two kitties who must move.

So in less than a month, the kitties and I will be moving to a new house. I'm very excited about the impending move! The kitties very much would not be, if they knew about it.

Those of you who've been following me since 2020 may remember the last time I tried to move my kitties (who were born feral and have never fully recovered). That attempt resulted in me spending the first day of covid lockdown getting emergency hand surgery after Bennet administered some truly epic bites.

I've known for some time that I was going to have to try again to move the cats eventually. Because a while ago, I bought a house on the same block as my polycule and started renovating it. And I hoped to someday finish those renovations and move in. But -- the cats! Or, mostly: but -- Bennet! (Winter can be picked up and put into a carrier with only mild trouble. And back when I thought I would be moving three kitties, we were sometimes able to capture Tico.)

I thought for a while that I'd come up with a clever solution. During renovations, I frequently had to hire a vet tech to come give Tico insulin injections when I wasn't home. And I thought, "Oh good -- all the cats will all get used to the vet tech, and then the vet tech can help me move all the cats, because she's much better at catching and handling struggling animals than I am."

One problem: the vet tech was never able to even catch sight of Bennet, no matter how much time she spent here.

I thought I had another solution. I bought big leather gloves. I started wearing them for long periods of time and trying to pet/brush/feed Bennet, so that she'd get used to them.

Turns out, though, that Bennet will not be in the same room as me if I'm wearing the gloves.

I did also try all the more standard advice -- feeding them inside their carriers so that the carriers stop freaking them out, and giving them treats regularly inside the carriers.

But Bennet just giraffes her little calico neck way out whenever the food is in the carrier, and she eats without ever placing her feet inside.

Bennet is also the least food-motivated cat I've ever met, and she is highly suspicious of treats. This makes it extremely hard to mix sedatives into her food, because she simply won't eat if anything tastes at all weird.

But she can only avoid food for so long (I presume).

So I'm going extreme: I've got out the Big Trap.

It's a bit Looney Tunes, I know.

For now, it's very solidly propped up. All their cat food will be inside this thing for the next couple weeks. Bennet will have to get used to going inside... and as the food moves further from the entrance, her giraffe-neck trick will only get her so far.

Sometime in the couple of days before the movers arrive, I will remove the extra props. I will hold a very long piece of string attached to the remaining leg that holds the trap up. I will wait for as many hours as necessary, until Bennet goes inside. And then -- boom.

(What then? Well, then you throw a blanket over the drop trap, and you attach a separate carrier to the door on the side of the drop trap, and then you remove the door between the trap and the carrier. And supposedly most freaked out cats will run out of the blanket-covered drop trap and into the carrier, especially if you put one of their favorite towels inside the carrier, and treats, and such. Bennet is hardly Most Cats, so there remains some question in my mind about that part? I think I will add a hard surface underneath the trap and the food soon, and then worst case I may end up nailing the dropped trap to that board and loading the whole darn thing into the moving truck. But assuming I do manage to capture them, there is an easy-to-close-off room where the cats can stay until the rest of the move is finished, so at least that part is figured out.)

Right now, Winter is nervous but accepting -- so long as I stay back in the living room. She's been pretty far inside the trap a few times and has sniffed everything extensively, though she prefers to sit outside while she eats.

(The feeders will be migrating to the back of the trap over time.)

Bennet, so far, is having none of it.

But she has to eat someday, right?

[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.

[zebaji]

Morro's Means to Make Money Pt. 3

Morro comes to Ninjago with one purpose in mind– Take over Ninjago by controlling the economic flow of the realm.

But he’s been trapped in the Cursed Realm for decades and Ninjago has changed to the point Morro doesn’t recognize anything anymore. So he hires– kidnaps– Lloyd Garmadon to help him secure enough money to be the wealthiest person and ghost in Ninjago.

An interactive S5 AU where I ask you guys to help Morro and Lloyd come up with SFW ideas to get money!

Part 1: How this mess started

Part 2: Robbing a bank

_-___- Part 3: Buying an Energy Plant Facility-___-_

“So what do you think?” The director of the energy plant that Lloyd and Morro have selected asks as they walk around the facility, examining the inner workings of the plant. Oh yeah, they also have a lawyer trailing after them, because apparently, there is a lot of legal jargon when it comes to purchasing companies. Which makes sense, but Morro and Lloyd are Ninja, not liars in sweet suits, so they had to hire a dude who could help them out.

‘I am not a ninja anymore,’ Morro reminds him, but the company director and lawyer dude– Mr. Oscar Alderman– are looking at him expectantly, so Lloyd plasters on a grin and nods his head.

“I think it's going to work,” he says as professionally as he can with a ghost in his head, mocking and criticizing everything in sight. “Ninjago deserves to be environmentally clean, and I know with all of the technological advancements we’ve had in the past few years, we really need to catch up in this part of the industry.”

Does Lloyd have any idea what he’s saying? 

No, no, he does not.

Is this director lapping up everything he is saying because he’s the Green ninja, and his Elemental power is quite literally energy? 

Yes, yes, he is.

In all truth, they picked this particular energy plant because it boasted a promising eco-friendly company that uses natural sources as a replacement for fossil fuels. They used a lot more big and fancy words than that, but Morro liked the premise at the time, so they’re doing this now.

Now the ghost is rethinking things as he commands Lloyd to ask for more wind turbines.

They get a tour of the many facilities before the director guides Lloyd and Lawyer dude into his office. He’d considered wearing a suit when they met with the company leaders, but then Morro cackled at him, so now he’s simply wearing his gi. It’s probably not professional, and Morro still won’t shut up, so Lloyd accepts that he’s never going to win and moves on with his life.

But it’s working because the director is beaming at him and passing Mr. Alderman some paperwork to sign. A half-hour later, Lloyd, and Morro, are now the proud new owners of the energy plant company, and if Lloyd can convince Cyrus Borg to lean on wind energy full-time, then they’ll have cash rolling in constantly.

But there is a problem– “And you know, obviously, I don’t want my uncle to know about this– he’ll think we’re trying to upstage him in the ‘being better for mankind’ business, so keep this hush-hush, you feel me?” Lloyd asks, and the director nods his head as if that was a totally normal request to make. 

‘It totally is,’ Morro reassures him, and now Lloyd knows for sure that he’s making a fool of himself and the Green Ninja image he’s managed to keep relatively in check for the past five years.

“Anyways, so because of that, it means we can’t put Lloyd Garmadon under the company’s name, since that’s us practically telling him what we’re doing,” Lloyd muses to himself. 

“What were you thinking?” Alderman asks, and Lloyd shrugs. ‘Put mine,’ Morro says in the back of his head, and Lloyd snaps his fingers, and grins widely at his lawyer. 

“Let’s do Morro!”

The director nods his head again, and Alderman scribbles something down on the pile of documents that Lloyd has just signed. “Okay, but Morro…what? We need a last name.”

“Uhhh…” Lloyd flounders, biting his lip. What was Morro’s last name?

‘Don’t have one,’ Morro dismisses with a scowl. 'Never needed one.’

‘Okay, well, now you need one. Pick a last name?’ 

“Uhh, you alright, Mr. Garmadon?” The director asks, and Lloyd realizes he’s been silent for too long.

“Totally,” he says, looking at the director and his lawyer completely seriously as if he didn’t have a ghost freaking out in his mind over something as stupid as a last name.“It’s just that picking a last name is super hard, and my brain can’t decide, y’know?”

‘Morro! Pick a last name!’ he hisses mentally and Morro shakes his head, frantically going through a list. 

‘Just say one! Just whatever you do, don’t say Wu!’

“Wu,” Lloyd blurts out, barely even having time to think about any words that came before it, and everyone seems to pause.

“But… I thought you said you didn’t want your uncle to find out,” His lawyer says slowly, while Morro screams in frustration. 

‘What is your problem?’ Morro demands, and Lloyd gives both people a completely exasperated shrug.

“You know what? I don’t care. If Wu has a problem with this, then I’m going to create a rival tea shop, have my ghost friend/ relative possess all of his potential customers, and have them come to my teashop.”

The director stares at Lloyd, looking awed and a little fearful. The only accurate reaction Lloyd should get when he starts using his old villain schemes.

Alderman just sighs, probably realizing that he was employed by a person with too much power, literally and now figuratively.

‘We are not relatives,’ Morro mutters, though it’s not as vehement as Lloyd was expecting. ‘But it’s a good plan– we should add it to the list.’

‘Yeah,’ Lloyd thinks, as he shakes hands with the director and wraps up the meeting. ‘But first, we gotta convince Borg to invest in this company.’

-___-_

Kai’s headache is only getting worse.

“What do you mean you had a student who was like a son to you?” Jay starts off slowly, but Kai knows his teammate enough to know that it won’t last that long. “But you told him that he’d be the Green Ninja, but it wasn’t true, so he left you and DIED?”

See? There it is.

Kai makes the decision to let Jay do all the screaming so that he can nurse this stupid headache without making it worse. He’d like to yell, too, but right now, all he can think is that he really shouldn’t have let Lloyd leave, not when his brother had told him about this ghost and money scheme. He really shouldn’t have thought it was a hallucination.

Wu is silent, holding his teacup like a lifeline. “At least Morro is helping Lloyd stop bank robberies?” He says weakly, and Kai thinks that’s stretching it a little bit.

“This brings up another question,” Zane interjects, scanning the note that Lloyd had written for the third time that day. “Why is Lloyd all of a suddenly wanting to obtain money? He’s never been like this before.”

Wu sighs, “I fear that may be my fault. Morro was obsessed with money, and I distracted that obsession by convincing him he was the Green Ninja. It worked until it didn’t. I’m sure my old student has corrupted Lloyd with the same desire.”

Four eyes bore into Wu’s beard. Wu did WHAT?

“What?” Jay demands out loud.

“You were… terrible at raising this guy,” Kai says incredulously, suddenly grateful that he and Nya had been raised by his village and not by Wu, who was legally his godparent. Would he have become a money-obsessed ghost if Wu had raised him?

“Uh, yeah, Kai,” Jay snaps, “The poor– literally and figuratively– guy is dead. You can’t get any worse than that!”

Wu, to his credit, doesn’t even look offended at that offense.

“Okay,” Cole rubs his temples, “We’re getting off-topic here. I think a better question to ask is why is Lloyd a security guard for the bank? When I worked there, they barely paid me minimum wage. Doesn’t seem like he’s getting a lot of money out of that.”

Nya walks into the room holding a tablet. “Uhh, guys? He’s not a security guard at the bank anymore. He somehow managed to buy a company plus a whole bunch of acres of land.”

The room goes quiet, and Kai’s head throbs.

“How?” Cole demands, “The bank couldn’t even pay rent, let alone a company!”

Kai has a sinking feeling that Lloyd was at the bank for more dubious reasons, but stays silent. Whatever Lloyd is doing, it better be for a great reason, because if not, Kai’s going to kill him.

Nya shrugs, “I don’t know, I just searched up Morro, and a guy that looks suspiciously like Lloyd popped up under the name ‘Morro Wu.’”

“He took my name?” Wu’s voice is watery, and Kai shoots him a bewildered look. That’s where their sensei was stuck on with everything they had just heard? Maybe it was a good thing Wu was retired– the poor guy was going senile.

“So Lloyd’s a businessman,” Zane says, “Or perhaps a better conclusion is that Morro is a businessman. What are our next steps?”

The Ninja go quiet. That was a good question.

[foryoufics]

Fake Flowers

Authors Note: Sorry I haven't written in a while. Anyway, I'm almost finished watching The Trunk and I've always liked this trope. Hoping I can stick to making this a series and I must've been gone a while because Tumblr now has a button for read more so wow.

Summary: Basically fake! couple trope. You are trying for a fresh start and wanting to put your past behind you, what better way to do that than uprooting to a new country and getting a fake husband?

Warnings: angst, cussing, talk of adult themes

"Jungguk, could you come to my office please?" "Yeah, sure. I just ended one contract not two days ago, this can't be another one already," Jungkook answers with an exasperated sigh. "What can I say? You're the most popular one here, I'll brief you and then you need to go and meet her. Hey, maybe this will spice things up, this one is American, that doesn't happen often, huh? That's exciting"

"That doesn't happen often, why? I mean how? Do I have to relocate? I never agreed-"

"Aish, I know, I know, no. You don't have to relocate. This client recently moved here-"

"Again, why? Let me guess, she's obviously got money, but, she wants to hire me because she thinks I'm exotic or something?"

"I don't know her intentions. You know we don't ask those sorts of things. She only said she wanted to hire the best, and said she wanted someone popular and mentioned that she needed someone who was up for the task so obviously I went with you. Are you coming?"

"Up for the task? Oh great...one of those," he sighs again, "yeah, I'm on the way up in the elevator now ....," he hangs up and walks into the office

"Another happy marriage-," his boss smiles, "that's the what....ninth one? You've been with us for nine years-"

Jungkook simply allows his face to speak his emotions for him and holds his hand out for the folder

"Come on, don't be like that when you-"

"I won't," Jungkook moves his fingers in the 'give it over' motion and chews his lip ring to read the contents of the manilla folder in his hand; chewing as his eyes scan the file. It was the usual client folder, a photo of you at the top, your name, age, "where's the rest of it?" He looks up and asks

"That's it," he shrugs, "that's all she would give us, her name and age, wouldn't give us anything else but she was paying more than necessary and seemed desperate so I stopped asking questions. She said she would meet you immediately, she was hungry"

His eyes blink a few times and brows scrunch in confusion, "just her name and age? That's it? And she was hungry?"

His boss shrugs again, "yeah, said she wanted something warm because it was freezing, I suggested the place we went to last week; that was about," he looks at the time, "30 minutes ago, she said she would wait up there and give me time to brief you when you got here"

"Seriously, what does she do? Why is she hiring me?"

"Ask her that yourself, she's your wife as of now for the next year"

"Who-who-what-who-what girl just up and leaves her country and moves to another one and hires a fake husband? How long has she been here?"

"Dude, I don't know. You ask her; at least she's your age this time and not a old lady, she's only months older than you. Go on"

"Alright ," Jungkook pushes himself up and leaves to come meet you

You were easy to spot so he looks for a second, you were quite short for a 27 year old and you were currently shoving three fourths of a donut into your mouth. Gross. Charming Jungkook, you're working, you're just tired, it's just a job

He rubs his hand over his face, gives his shoulders a shake it off and takes a deep breath before coming over and greeting you. "Annyeonghaseyo"

You look up and see him bowing to you and that smile takes your breath away, you will yourself to return the smile and bow back. "Hi.....Y/N," you offer him a handshake after you wipe your hands on a napkin which he accepts. He sits so you sigh in relief internally that he can speak English. "You speak English, I'm relieved...."

"Yes, do you...speak Korean? When I said hello you responded"

"No, I'm sorry. I know I'm an asshole but I do want to try and learn. I also don't expect you to speak English if you don't want to by the way," you assure him because you're sure you both sense the awkwardness

"Thankyou...," he seems shocked, "I don't mind, we will need to communicate so if it makes things easier. So....I know your name, I'm uh....I'm Jungguk"

"Nice to meet you," you say and smile honestly, "Thankyou for doing that and agreeing to do this, I appreciate it-"

"It's my job, I was wanting to ask you some things. Your uh...your file ...it only had your name, your age and your photo, so.....well....what do you do? I mean you have to do something to be able to move and hire someone at my service, and, why? I mean why are you hiring me? What are your intentions? What made you do it? If we have to do this, we should know something about each other...."

"You speak English really well huh?....." You chuckle and fidget with your straw, twirling it around in your drink and looking at it, "well.....I don't do anything, I'm starting over and fresh, so I gave you all the info needed. My intentions," you shrug, "I am by myself in a foreign place and I don't know the language or anything; when you said hello, hello is sort of universal and it's one of the few words I do know-by the way, I understand why you bow and I'm honored but it really isn't necessary to bow to me. You aren't below me and I'm not trying to be disrespectful. I don't have any intentions really, it would be nice if you could teach me the language and I would pay you but you don't have to. You don't have to do anything." You shrug again

"I don't understand," he looks very lost, "I don't have to do anything?"

You she your head, "No. I was briefed by that guy, I believe he runs your company, on your protocol and you don't have to sleep in the bed with me, you don't even have to live in a home with me--"

"So....why did you hire me? What do I have to do then?"

"All I ask is maybe we can eat together sometimes I guess," you shrug, "and if you want to, the teaching me"

"So you are paying all that money, just to have a possible tutor and a pretend....friend?"

"Yeah, pretty much," you nod and laugh, "sound good? Besides he told me you just got divorced from your last client yesterday so you have to be exhausted"

There's silence as he is so stunned and confused for a long moment which you take to try your soup and end up slurping a bit which causes him to look over at you, scratching his head and he giggles, "Is it good? I won't take it"

"What?" You ask and realize, "oh sorry, I thought that was polite to do here if you thought something was good and I didn't want to be rude and offend anyone. I'm already being stared at...it's the opposite-I don't really like soup but it's freezing, it's nice and warm-Im sorry-," you stammer fearing you had offended him

"No need to be sorry. Alright well you have to have some type of rule or expectations for me?" He sees the goosebumps on your skin and hesitantly eyes everyone, he notices what you mean that a few people are staring at you. "Here," he takes off his coat and wraps it around you.

"Uhm....t-thankyou, you don't have to, I'm sure it's embarrassing-no rules or expectations, only that you honor the contract to do it for a year, I only ask that-"

"We can talk about it in a bit, finish eating....your sweater is very thin"

You nod and eat, it's silent even after when he leaves with you and you start walking towards your apartment as the snow falls. You didn't mind much, you were distracted by the pretty lights.

"oh, I'm so sorry, thankyou," you take his jacket off from around yourself and hand it back when you notice him shivering; you insisted when you left the restaurant. He resisted but only agreed when he noticed a street salesman selling scarves and hats. He took your hand and brought you over to it, put a scarf around your neck, a hat on your head, and then held up gloves. You shook your head to say no thankyou to them as you reached for your cash to hand him but he pushed your hand back down and paid the man. "It's freezing, you will need a better coat....," he finally speaks to you after clearing his throat, all that had been done in awkward silence with no words between the two of you

"Thankyou Jungguk, you really didn't have to do that..."

"I don't want you getting sick, I would do that for anyone.....can't have my wife out in this weather like that," he tries to smile and puts one hand in his pants pocket, then you both look at your feet as you stroll the sidewalk only speaking every so often when he asks something

"......what do you mean you don't have any rules or expectations?"

"what do you mean?"

"well....you said you basically just want a friend and tutor so, are we seeing other people? Things like that, our boundaries ...."

"Yes, you are free to see whoever you'd like and do whatever you please, whenever you like. You don't have to actually pretend to be my husband as the protocol says for image sake," you chuckle, "you seem so sweet, I wouldn't want to embarrass you like that. It's as simple as this, just pretend to enjoy my company during meals eve-no, just have a meal with me every now and then, it doesn't have to be often either, and you can just be yourself and do it for a year, that's all. I won't even speak if you don't want me to if you're having a day that isn't good, I will do the same and just be there for you too. That's literally all, I don't expect anything else. You're a free human being and a free man."

"I am.... flabbergasted.... alright....well, you've said that twice now"

"Said what twice?" You look up at him to meet his eyes

"That do it for a year, I mean I will, that's what the contracts last for, but, I did notice that in your file, you signed that if we didn't do the year that you wouldn't expect any alimony or anything"

"oh yeah, I don't"

"So.....you don't expect that? To be able to make it for a year? Noone ever would sign that but you not only signed it, you added that clause"

"I know," you say simply and nod, "I wanted you to know that," you shrug, "I expect nothing and I'm not forcing you into anything, I wanted you to be comfortable-" you feel him take your hand to hold it and realize it's to guide you across a street, ".......your hands are frozen, you should have let me get the gloves.......," he looks hurt, like he genuinely cares; you aren't sure how to respond, so you don't for a moment. "Jungguk, I told you, you don't have to d-"

"I told you, I would do it for anyone...."

"......I believe you.....thankyou.....please, don't worry. So.....do we have a deal? I mean....will you do it?"

"Which one? I don't think I could do both"

"Oh," you gulp, okay, that's disappointing, "That's alright," you smile, "You don't have to do either, my apartment is just up here, I'm sure you're exhausted. Thankyou for meeting to speak with me, walking me home and buying me the scarf and hat," you say being completely genuine and bow, walking ahead up the slope

"Wait, Y/N," you hear him catch up, "I was kidding, ofcourse, I can do both. Honestly, I am exhausted so thankyou," he laughs

"Oh, thankyou," you smile in relief and then remember something and try to avoid letting him see your teeth. "Actually, we-....we're already at your place and it actually is freezing, do you mind if I stay the night?"

"Yeah, yeah, ofcourse, I'd hate to send you walking back in this frigid cold. Come in," you show him inside. "Make yourself at home-you didn't eat, are you hungry? I'm not the best cook but I've got a few things, I could give it a shot"

"No thankyou, I ate before....," he sits on the couch

"Okay, well if you change your mind you're welcome to it"

"Thankyou.....so for the tutoring, how is three times a week?"

"That sounds great," you nod, "thankyou so much again and how much would I owe you?"

"You're already paying me, don't worry about it-"

"Tell me if you change your mind-"

"Why do you sound like you have to pay me just for my presence like just talking to you?"

"I-," you're caught off guard by the question and accurate read he had, "well, this is your work and want you to get your worth," you try to clear your throat

"I do. You wouldn't have to pay me if we just met naturally, right? Just pretend that's what's happening"

"I'm sorry, I don't know if I can, I don't know if I'm comfortable with that....," you say honestly

".....well, your age was in the file, we're the same year; when is your birthday? That's usually basic info on clients files"

"......I-it's in-....the calendar year," you give the most believable laugh you can muster but it doesn't fool him

"..... alright, I can't make you tell me, but, that would be a meal we shouldn't skip....I know it's months before mine.....mine is September 1st....," he looks at you and waits for a response

"September 1st, thankyou I'll make note to remember so we can have a meal," you smile and sit across opposite of him

"So what about you? You have been doing this for nine years, you're, I hope it's okay for me to be candid and honest, you are absolutely visual perfection and you're the definition of gentleman, so why aren't you really hitched?"

He blushes dark as one of Marilyn Monroe's lipsticks and rubs his neck, "thank you-"

"Oh come on, you have to be used to being told that"

"Still doesn't make it less flattering," he chuckles, "When I was younger, I needed money and then....really, I don't know.....I guess ....I felt like I was sort of....helping people," he shrugs, "so I'm a Virgo....you?"

"Nice try," you smirk and chuckle

"Give me something~"

"Alright....it's...."

"Yeah?"

"A star sign....that's not Leo"

"Aish~," he throws his head back

"Good night Jungguk, there is a room I've had made for you," you stand to go to your room

"Made for me?"

You turn to see his brow raised

"Yes, I told you I wanted you to be comfortable and didn't expect anything, you don't have to follow that protocol, I won't tell your boss"

"Wait, so you really didn-you had a room made for me?"

"Yes," you repeat, now you're the one who is baffled by his being confused

"You renovated and had a entire room added to your flat and furnished just for me so I wouldn't have to share with you if I didn't want to?"

"Pretty much, night. Sweet dreams," you smile

"Yeah....uhm thankyou....good night"

[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.

[ao3wasntenough]

So I'm new to the bot!Sam au stuff and I was wondering did he get turned into a bot because of the all spark??? And what did his parents think after he became a bot, I just want to know all about it because I like the concept of the au!!!!

HI!! Bot Sam is such a hot pot for me there’s so many ways to go about it and I’m sure I’ve got something to suit any taste you have for ways he’s transformed or handled!!

I’m assuming your talking about jet Sam first, cause he’s just who I’ve talked about a lot recently ?

I consider his creation both allspark and control pillar/matrix induced, where in an alternate time line in the dark side of the moon, unaware hes been infused with allspark remains down to his very dna an explosion he’s caught in beside a control pillar (the things sentienel uses to create the portals) the allspark power is supercharged with energy and adrenaline and transforms him. And if they thought the original destruction of the allspark used all its power they double assume it with his transformation due to how much energy it would take surely.

His parents were likely told their son was to close to the explosion and given the alien nature was beyond recognition, so the government tried to sell them that their son died a hero. Witwickies never to do things the easy way can’t really accept it. How could their baby die and that just be the end of it? They both have their own ways of breaking down, both trying to live like their their the perfect clean image of a family who’s son simply isn’t home. Judy probably feels like her son is still out there, people talk around her like it’s just some mothers grief blinding her. Ron looses a lot of steam, the joy he would have felt living a “my child just moved out” lifestyle gone to just a deflated what is there to do? He’s not angry, can barely start yelling at any government agent or officer who tries to engage with them before he’s just exhausted.

They are very dejected and Sam always hoped something would bring them back together, that they’d meet again, but once he starts flying and reality keeps going he realises he wouldn’t know how to hug them anymore, and meeting them in this new body would make them feel more distant despite the physical closeness, better to keep each other alive in memories.

However! Never to doom him in all time lines (just most) A happier bot Sam is the minicon!Sam

He’s smaller and more closer to his human body then the jet him, completely allspark made. His soul Converted when he tries to jam it into Megatron, kinda ment to look like a shell of the allspark but definitely doesn’t turn into the allspark despite what others wish. Like the allspark didn’t want to destroy more then it had to so turning Sam into a spark and then providing a shell was its happy compromise before destruction

He is small enough to handle human tools and stuff like iPads and phones, more confident to harass anyone into letting him contact his parents, who are told he is hired and is working for the autobots and is doing remote work, he calls them and sends messages, he tried using some government grade green screen to face time them so they could see “him” and bullies humans into editing him as a human into photos to send to his parents in the name of keeping his cover, less anyone be spying on his family to figure out what he’s doing. His dad is very proud, never says it, but his son went from scraping together eBay listings, mowing lawns and botching grades to make money for deals to getting a full time job! And Judy loves telling everyone how hard he’s working and how harsh the government is for not letting its workers come home for Christmas like really you control the whole country but you can’t let one mothers son home for thanksgiving? Damn them!

And then my idea for car bot Sam i will sneak out to see his family. Maybe he tries to tell them he can’t get out of the car, or he sent this super tech car to call them, but then as they become aware of the aliens Ron has a sinking feeling his son isn’t calling them from the car. A but horrified and Judy can’t even think Ron’s making sense but both at least comforted their son comes home regardless

Sorry for rambling! Don’t know if I gave you enough of what you wanted!! Love talking ideas

Sam and his family are so weird I think their so interesting to build on

[light-of-delphi]

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!

[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.