#FIRST I couldn't find the job accept email

[inkedmoth]

I AM OGING TO GNAW MY LEG OFF WITH THIS JOB

[fi1iat3rra3]

sum; vendetta leon is exhausted after the arias business, and instead of drinking his sorrows away, he wants something different for once, so he asks a friend for help.

content; friends hook-up, mentions of friends w benefits, sub leon, edging, handjob, thigh fucking, a little nipple stimulation, leon eats the reader out after he busts inside, leon is kinda shy sometimes and needy, leon likes to hump/grind, reader gets a little rough and teases a lot

wc; 5.1k

pt 1/2, pt 2 here

From a vacation in the rocky mountains of Colorado to another world threat from B.O.Ws, Leon needed a real break this time. Leon asked Chris and Rebecca as many times as he could, making sure there were no current or incoming threats. Once he pushed past his stubbornness, he made his way to go visit an old friend he'd not contacted in months.

He hadn't gone silent on you for any one reason, he just wasn't good at texting, and with your busy schedule, calls were hard, especially since you moved so far away. Now, Leon found his way to where you lived. Without a text, call, or even an email. Leon saw that you weren't home, so he waited on your porch. And waited. And waited.

At 9 p.m., you finally pulled in. Leon was half asleep in your rocking chair on the porch. From afar, he looked homeless, you couldn't recognize him.

"Hey! The fuck are you doin' on my porch?!" You shouted, slamming your car door shut and locking it as you took a taser from your purse.

Leon jolted awake with a snort, and when he saw you charging him with a taser, he backed up with his hands up.

"Jesus, do you ever give a warm welcome, woman?!" He huffed.

"What are you- You haven't talked to me in months, you fuck!"

Despite the harsh welcome, you put the taser away and stepped forward to bring him into a hug. After everything Leon went through recently, he needed the hug. He needed someone, and you were the only one who he trusted to be vulnerable around.

"God, it's been ages." You sighed, Leon returning the hug and practically melting into you. "You should have called. I would have picked up some food." You said, pulling back from the hug to look at him. From the last time you saw him in person almost a year ago, he'd collected three new visible scars. One over his jaw, one near his collarbone, and one on the back of his hand that you only saw when he brushed his hair out of his eyes. He looked so damn tired.

"Eh, you can cook, can't you?" He mused.

"Oh, you're such an ass."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"No, I'm gonna call the pizza place down the road and I'm gonna shower while you wait patiently because your timing sucks." You said, taking your keys from your purse and turning to unlock the front door.

"You look tired. That new corporate job take your soul yet?" He asked, following you inside. You both removed jackets and shoes before he found his way to the couch, you finding yourself in the kitchen to get water and a snack for Leon.

"Not quite." You said, walking back to Leon and handing him a bowl of cut-up watermelon. He accepted it, popping the top off and taking a piece without question.

"Shocking. The DSO took my soul in a week."

"That's the DSO, Leon. I work at a lawfirm, not a government agency for threats like zombie viruses." You scoffed. A pause. A softer, more solemn look spreading on your face. "You doing okay? You.. don't look too good, Leon. I know you hate talking about things like this, but.. I'm here for whatever you need, yknow that?"

Leon remained quiet, averting his gaze and munching on the watermelon. You sighed, turning away. He'd come to you when he needed, you knew.

Leon occupied himself with familiarizing himself in your new place, looking around at your decorations. Twenty minutes passed before you returned to the living room just as the pizza arrived. You clipped your hair back as you went to answer the door. You paid, said your thanks, and walked back to Leon with the pizza, sitting next to him on the couch.

At first, he remained on his own side, keeping upright. But as you grabbed a piece of pizza and leaned back, he leaned onto you. He let his body slip against yours, leaning his head on your shoulder.

Mid bite, you looked at him. He had his eyes closed.

"Don't say anything unless you're uncomfortable." He groused.

So you stayed quiet, went back to eating.

"Gonna eat?" You asked after a minute. He grunted. "You need food. Especially considering the fact that I know you haven't eaten all day by the way you took the watermelon earlier." You said, leaning forward.

Leon reached out and pulled you back.

"Please don't go." He whispered.

Your breath caught in your chest, and you remained still. You remained quiet. Leon shifted, burying his face in your shoulder. It wasn't uncomfortable, but this hadn't happened in a couple of years. This wasn't how Leon sought his comfort. In the past, if he needed comfort, he'd just come to sit in silence for a while before he forced himself to get it all out. He'd go months without seeking comfort, and this time, he reached a point where talking wasn't enough.

"I forgot how good you feel. Even just like this." Leon breathed, his head shifting to nudge your neck with his nose. He inhaled subtly, taking in your scent. You had washed off all the perfume you wore for work, so now he could smell your body wash and lotion almost too much. He loved it.

"Leon," you swallowed.

"Please. Just.. give me this. Just tonight."

"We said-"

"Bullshit. We said that years ago. I'm tired. I miss touching you."

His words made your skin flare with warmth, and you knew he was right. Years ago, you'd been so close that you'd hook up every once in a while. But that had to stop when Leon ran into his emotional troubles. He felt that it would ruin the rules you two had made for yourselves. But now, in this moment, all he needed was you. All he needed was to be taken care of. And in a moment of neediness, he took a chance.

"Just take care of me. Just for tonight." He breathed against your neck, finally pressing his lips to your pulse point, his lips slightly parted.

"You're sure?"

"Jesus, do you ever not question things? I'm asking you to touch me." He grumbled, lifting his head to look at you. "Look at me and tell me you think I'm unsure." He reached up and grabbed your chin to make you look at him. He definitely didn't look unsure.

"You're still all talk, aren't you?" You hissed as his rough touch. You knew him. He could be on top, but he never had enough willpower to stay in that light.

Leon's cheeks bloomed with a new shade of red, illuminating his pale skin.

"You want to or not? Because if not, I can just deal with it myself."

"You're so annoying." You scoffed, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips. He inhaled sharply, eyes rolling back with a flutter of his eyelids falling shut, lips melding to yours like melting metal finding its form.

"Fuck," he grunted, his hands coming to find your hips. He shifted himself, settling over one of your thighs. He deepened the kiss, his hands shuffling under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his scarred and calloused hands.

Your hands reached up to push his jacket off his shoulders, and he shuffled his arms and let it fall down before his hands shot back to your waist after the jacket fell to the ground behind him. He pulled back from the kiss and mouthed along your jawline, his hands trying to desperately pull you impossibly closer. In that little motion, you pushed your thigh up, pressing it to his crotch.

"Oh, you fuck-" He hissed, his body tensing, nails digging into your waist as he dropped his head against your shoulder, his breath shaking from the sudden grinding.

"What, you don't like that anymore? You used to whine for it if I wasn't touching you at all times." You taunted, pressing harder, expecting something. Leon bit back a moan, swallowing harshly as he lifted his head to look at you.

"I said take care of me, not be an asshole."

"You're the one enjoying it so much. I can take care of you on my own terms, can't I? Or have the rules changed?" You watched as his lips formed a scowl, and yours shifted to a grin.

"You're bad at this."

"No, no, you're impatient and bitchy." You huffed.

"Oh, please,"

"Say that again?"

Leon looked at you, confused. Just as he opened his mouth for another retort, you shifted your leg against him, and used the palm of your hand to grind against the tip of his length through his pants.

"Oh, please," He choked on a gasp, his hands grasping at your wrist.

"All bark, no bite." You reminded him, leaning in to kiss him deeply. He leaned in, putting all his weight on you, allowing his shame to melt away as his hips began to grind down against your hand and leg, using the friction to satiate the hunger and impatience.

"Fuck, I love when you do that." He panted into the kiss, his hips stuttering slightly due to sensitivity.

"How long has it been since you got laid? You never used to get this whiney so soon.."

"Too fuckin' long." He whimpered lightly. "Missed you so much, I didn't want anybody else. It didn't feel the same alone." He confessed, his head dropping to your neck again. "Missed touching you and being so close to you."

"I missed you, too, yknow." You whispered, a small distraction of gentle words as you slithered your hand beneath the waistband of his pants. He accepted the distraction until he felt your fingers wrap so softly around the tip of his cock, eliciting a deep, almost gutteral groan from him. If at all possible, his body became less tense, melting deeper into your touch.

"You're so mean to me." He choked out, followed by a moan as your thumb ran along his leaky slit, spreading the precum.

"You asked me to take care of you. I'm doing what you asked me to." You hummed innocently, bringing your other hand down to fully push his pants and boxers down just barely over his hips, allowing you to have a view of what you were doing. He didn't look at first, subconsciously embarrassed despite how many times you'd seen his body in more vulnerable scenarios. You eased your hand down his length, and he nearly went stupid at the feeling. Sure, he'd jerked off every now and then, but it was a little hard to get himself aroused nowadays, considering how poorly he cared for his health. But with you? He was harder than he'd been in years, and it nearly hurt.

"Fuck, it hurts," He breathed, words morphing into a hiss as you squeezed the base of his cock. "D-don't do that."

"You'll live." You huffed. Despite your lack of acknowledgment, you didn't repeat that squeeze yet. You'd save it for later.

In order to not embarrass himself by cumming in two minutes, he distracted himself from his own pleasure by returning the favor. He snaked his hands up your shirt, and to his pleasure, he found out you had no bra. He lifted his head, panting with a shaky yet smug grin.

"Not wearing a bra? Like you wanted this to play out like this." He let out a laugh, only to shut himself up with a strangled grunt as you squeezed his tip. His hips bucked, and you watched, satisfied, as he occupied himself with your chest and neck. He pushed your shirt up high enough to reveal your tits, and without waiting, he connected his lips to a nipple, sucking and nipping at the nub while his hands worked on groping and massaging. His hand gave attention to the other nipple, pinching and tugging with his fore finger and thumb. Soon, his moans were accompanied by the soft gasps or shaky exhales from you. It was a win, despite how loud and consistent he was compared to you.

As he neared the end, he couldn't focus. His head fell against your chest, his breath brushing against the skin.

"Fuck, 'm gonna cum," He whined, bucking his hips against your touch. "Please, don't stop. I've waited so long. I've needed this for so fuckin-"

You stopped. You didn't slow down or ease off. You just stopped, tearing the pleasure away from him. He gritted his teeth, stifling the pathetic cry that left his lips as he tried to buck against your thigh, seeking his high.

"You wanna cum, you'll have to do it yourself or show me I should let you." You said, watching as he rutted his hips, frustrated.

"You're a fuckin' asshole. Takin' me all the way up, only to drop me down like a bad rollercoaster." He groaned, his hands grasping desperately at your hips. He kept going like that until he couldn't, his nails leaving marks of frustration just beneath your shirt, above the sweats that hung low on your hips.

Instead of admitting defeat, he tugged his boxers and pants up, hissing at the contact of the seam pressing against his unbelievably hard cock. He grabbed you, pulling you up from the couch. He fixed your shirt before he dragged you down the hall. Luckily, he saw your bedroom door open, so he wasn't wandering stupidly.

"Couch is too small." He grunted, dragging you into your room and nudging you to lie back on the bed. Once on the bed, he got on top of you. For a moment, you thought he'd take what he wanted, take your clothes off like an animal and throw away all caution and ease.

No.

He nestled himself against you. He pressed the bulge in his pants against the heat of your core, and he began to grind, his hips rough and heavy as he buried his face in your neck and let his hands push your shirt up, to which you responded to by lifting your arms and letting him remove the shirt entirely.

"Y'know, if you wanted, you could just take it." You murmured, a teasing reminder that he was doing this to himself.

"Don't wanna." He grunted, kissing down your neck and mouthing at the flesh and meat of your breasts. Leon rutted his hips desperately, precum dripping from the painfully hard tip of his cock, throbbing with each thrust against you. "Fuck, you're so warm even like this." He choked out.

"You're so whiney and you don't even realize it, do you?" You bit your lip, watching him closely.

"You do this to me." He whined, further proving your point.

"You want me to touch you?"

"Please." He breathed.

"Please?"

"Please, angel, please, I need you to touch me. I can't fucking take this. It hurts."

"You look good when you beg."

"Please." He gritted through his teeth, bucking his hips. You gently pushed him to sit up, and you took your place in his lap. You leaned in to bring your lips to his, your hand trailing down his chest to find the hem of his shirt. You broke away, lifting his shirt up and off, tossing it aside before leaning in to resume the kissing. Your hands grazed along his torso, which had a little more pudge than muscle nowadays. He curled away from the touch, whining.

"It's okay," you soothed. "It's me, right? No reason to be all shy."

"It's.. weird."

"It's my favorite thing. Always has been." You shushed him, but he remained tense. "You're always so bashful about being shirtless, yet you're so eager to get your pants off. Such a weird guy." You giggled.

Your hands trailed up and landed on his pecs, only to trail back down. Your touch stopped just above the happy trail sticking out from his boxers, connecting to the space just beneath his belly button.

"Don't fucking do that to me." He cursed, a hand coming to grab your wrist.

"I don't think you're in any position to be ordering me around."

Leon opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. He remained silent as you finally dropped your hands to push his pants and boxers down, which he eagerly lifted his hips to help with. Once his cock was free, it sprang out in the most lewd way you'd ever seen. You looked at him, and he looked away quickly.

Slowly, you brought your hand to wrap around his length, and he almost immediately had to brace himself with a desperate grasp on the bedsheets beneath him. His chest puffed out with a sharp inhale. Your hand eased down to the base, and his entire body shuddered.

"See? It's worth it."

"You're a fucking sadist." He whimpered.

"You're a whiney brat."

"Dear god." He breathed, his head falling back as you found a steady, perfectly paced rhythm and speed to stroke him. He felt his balls tighten, his tip pulsing with what he couldn't decide felt like pain or pleasure. He didn't know, but he liked it too much.

You leaned in, your other hand coming to cradle his head and bring him into a kiss. Despite the harsh words exchanged, your touch against his neck was gentle, reverent, like you wanted to make up for the mean words and the taunting.

"Fuck, you're so good at this." He cried against your lips, his left hand coming to grasp at your breast as his right hand found its way to your waist.

Once again, you stopped just as his rambling slurred enough, signalling an incoming orgasm. Leon didn't even try to stifle his frustrated cry this time, but you hushed him.

"I've got something better for you. Just be patient." You soothed, swiping your thumb over his tip and watching his cock jerk in response. Leon squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let you see the tears that brimmed those baby blues of his.

While he was busy steeling himself, you removed your pants, and when he opened his eyes, he almost stopped breathing. You'd changed since the last time he saw you naked, and he couldn't be more pleased by the changes of your body. Now, it gave him more to memorize and worship.

"Jesus, you're so fucking gorgeous." His eyes trailed over your body, and landed at your thighs. Smooth flesh, soft meat, and the prize between your thighs. It made him groan with anticipation.

Just as he thought you'd ride him the way he needed, you shattered that idea. You pushed him to lie back, laying over him to where your thighs pressed against his hard-on. He inhaled sharply, whimpering softly.

"Shit, your skin is so warm. Could bust just from this." He breathed, voice strained as he bucked his hips upward.

"I know you could. You're so sensitive."

"Please, lemme fuck 'em. Lemme make a mess all over your thighs." He pleaded softly, bringing his hands to grasp at your ass, pulling you a little higher to where he could slip one hand between your bodies, slowly guiding his cock to slip between your thighs. He let out a breathy moan at the sensation, his back arching as you shifted your thighs, purposely squeezing around him.

"You gonna do it?" You teased.

"Just- fuck, just let me think, would you?" He gritted, his hands coming back to grasp at your ass for leverage as he slowly began to fuck up into the slit of your thighs, right up against the silk fabric of your panties, reminding him of the delicious warmth and wetness that he had yet to earn.

His hips bucked feverishly, his hands groping all over wherever he could reach. You kissed and pawed at his body, making him all the more sensitive as he tried to press your thighs tighter together, muttering incoherent pleas and sobs for you to let him cum.

"Oh, fuck," He strained a sob, his body tensing beneath yours as his hips shuffled and shifted desperately, like a dog humping it's favorite toy in heat. "Fuck, y're so warm. So warm 'n wet. Can feel you through y'er fuckin panties." He panted. As much as he wanted to sound tough and dominant, his voice trembled with whimpers and occasional sobs as he fucked his cock between your thighs.

"Just think about how it'll feel when you finally earn it." You hummed, mouthing at his chest as you reached behind to lightly rub at his tip, which poked pathetically out of the gap between your thighs. He cried, the sensation overwhelming. His tip was so sensitive, you would've thought he'd cum just from that.

"Please, fuck, lemme cum inside you. Lemme cum inside and I'll eat you out to finish you off. Please, angel, please." He pleaded endlessly, hips bucking wildly as he neared a climax. Despite his pleas to cum inside of you, he couldn't stop himself.

Once again, for the third time, you stopped. You lifted yourself off of him, and he gasped and cried like he had the air punched out of him straight from his lungs.

"No, no, no, please," he sobbed. Tears welled in his eyes, and he no longer tried to hide it. All of his shame melted away.

"Shh, shh," you soothed, cupping his cheek. "You wanted to cum inside, didn't you?" You asked softly, and his eyes widened. In previous years, during your sexual agreement, you'd never let him cum inside out of fear of pregnancy or other risks. Now, you seemed to trust him enough and/or not care as much.

"Fuck, please." He cried, his hands finding the waistband of your panties and tugging eagerly.

"If you rip these, you're buying me a new set." You scolded. He whined, his fingers curled around the fabric.

"Take 'em off." He huffed. You rolled your eyes and did as he asked, getting off of his lap to shimmy out of your panties. Once fully naked, you straddled his hips again, and he wasted no time as he grasped your hips and positioned you straight over his cock. He held his cock upright, lazily stroking himself before you lowered your hips. Leon had to brace himself as he watched. The moment your pussy wrapped around his tip, he was a goner. His head fell back, eyes rolling to the back of his head, his nails leaving cresent marks on your hips and thighs as he pawed and clawed at the flesh and meat of your body.

"Oh, fuck, oh, my God." He heaved, his chest puffing out with heavy gasps.

You eased your way down, and he was forced to watch. He couldn't look away. He watched as you sank down on his cock, your pussy completely engulfing his length with the kind of ease he'd dreamed of. It was easy, soaking wet, still as tight as he remembered.

"My God, nothing compares to you. Not a damn thing. Not a thing in the fuckin' world." He cursed, head falling back as you fully sat on his dick, your walls fluttering softly around him. With how tight you were, he could feel the way his cock throbbed, the way your walls pulsed with need around him. "Y-you sure I can cum inside? You ain't gonna.. gonna stop?" He asked, breathless.

"You've earned it. You said you'd eat me out, didn't you? We have a deal." You reminded him, and he nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, tha's right. 'M gonna make you feel good. Gonna make my angel see stars." He huffed, his words trailing into a gasp as you lifted your hips, only to stay put with his tip just barely notched inside of you. He took the invite, using your hips as leverage for him to fuck up inside you. He watched where your bodies met, completely dazed as he felt his balls tighten with each thrust. Your softer moans mixed in with his louder whimpers and huffs, the sound of skin slapping and heavy breathing filling the room.

It didn't take long for Leon to become a mess, his body trembling beneath yours. He couldn't even return the kiss you tried to give.

"Angel, oh, fuck, 'm gonna cum," he cried. "Please, pleasepleaseplease!" He squealed, pulling your hips down onto him and burying himself as deep as he could possibly go, the tip of his cock nestled deep inside as he let loose. His body seized with tension, his mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure. His cock spilled rope after rope inside of you, and soon, all he had left was a few pathetic droplets, which your pussy milked out of him with a few small lifts and drops of your hips.

"Oh my god," he whimpered, head falling back against the pillow. His chest heaved as he trembled, hands clasped onto yours as if he was afraid you'd leave him too soon. You lifted off of him, his cock slipping out and laying limp, coated in a lewd mix of bodily arousal.

"Hey," you reached up to tap his cheek, bringing the dazed man back to reality. "Don't forget your promise." You said. He swallowed, nodding weakly.

"What... Mm, whatever you want, angel." He slurred, still recovering from the bliss of his climax. Being denied three times had truly given him the best build-up he could imagine.

Slowly, you crawled up his body and stopped when your thighs were on either side of his head. He looked up at you, his hands coming to wrap under your thighs and make you squeeze his head.

"Fuck." He cursed, huffing softly against your thigh as he peppered soft kisses all the way up to your pussy. When he reached your clit, he found himself lapping eagerly at the sensitive nub, basking happily in the way you bit your lip and moaned soft praises to him.

His tongue ventured further, licking a long, flat stripe against your folds. Then, a pointed stripe, pressing thr tip of his tongue against your hole, which was leaking with his own cum mixed with your arousal. He snaked a hand around, pressing his thumb to your clit to rub it in circles as he used his other hand to guide you to grind down on him. As his tongue poked and prodded, you accepted his help, your hips rolling against his mouth as he lapped at your pussy like a man possessed.

"Tastes even better than I remember." He panted, only to be shut up with a buck of your hips as he lightly flicked his thumb against your clit. "Mmh," he moaned, his tongue forming a small divot to lick up your arousal, desperate to get a deeper taste. His tongue delved in, pressing into your hole. Your hands came down to grasp at his hair and his shoulder, needing him for support as you bucked against his mouth.

"You're so needy, lappin' at me like a dog. You're a fuckin wreck." You panted from above, looking back to him and watching the way his brows cinched together, as if he wanted to protest and say otherwise, but he was too busy using his mouth to make you feel good. When he realized his tongue wouldn't be enough in time, he brought his left hand underneath, slowly slipping two fingers inside of you. His mouth focused on your clit, sucking and licking and nipping at the flesh. "Oh, fuck," you moaned softly, head tipping back.

"Mmh, 's good? Y'feel good, angel?" He panted, his tongue flicking at your clit as his fingers curled inside of you, rubbing deliciously along the spongy spot inside.

A louder moan left your lips as you felt him pump his fingers in and out, desperate to please you the way you pleased him. Your back arched, head tilted back, chest heaving, and your moans filled the air, mingling like a perfect symphony with the wet sounds of his fingers inside of you with his mouth sucking and licking at your clit, occasionally lapping and your folds to avoid wasting any of your juices.

"Mmh, that's good. That's perfect, Leon. Keep- oh, fuck, keep doing that. 'M gonna cum," you panted, hips pressing firmly against him as he kept going. Soon enough, your body reached the tipping point. His fingers pressed firmer to the sweet spot, perfectly timed with the suck around your clit. It pushed you over the edge. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him to desperately keep him as close as possible as your other hand braced yourself on the headboard. Your hole clenched around his fingers, yet he groaned like you'd just given him an orgasm. He'd always loved pleasing you.

After you came down from the high, Leon eased his fingers to pull out, bringing them to his mouth to clean them off. You crawled back down to straddle his hips, leaning over him to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. His mouth tasted like you, combined with the faint taste of himself. You didn't mind. You dropped your hips, letting his half limp cock press against the wetness of your folds. He gasped, choking on a soft moan.

"Oh, fuck, wait," he whimpered. His hands shot to your hips again, bracing himself for the overwhelming sensation. "I-i can't. It's too much." He whined.

"Do you want to stop for the night? Or just a break?" You asked, bringing a hand to cup his cheek.

"Need to think. Please." He exhaled softly, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch.

"You want a kiss?"

"Please."

You smiled softly at his use of manners, finding it cute how he was so gentle with his requests in moments like this. You pressed in, lips locking in a kiss that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders more than an orgasm ever could. He pulled you over him before shifting to lay on his side, pulling you to follow.

His body intertwined with yours, taking exactly what he needed. The warmth, the closeness, the love. He basked in the way you kissed him. Like you never wanted to kiss anybody else. Your lips fit so perfectly together, reminding him of the dangers of platonic sex. He curled himself around you, burying his face in your neck.

"Think I just wanna lay down now.." he murmured, lips mouthing at your neck.

"I think that's a good idea." You agreed, curling up with him, laying a leg around his hips.

"Thank you." He whispered, closing his eyes. "I really.. really missed you." He sniffled lightly. Your hands came to gently lay over the back of his head, cradling him to play with his hair.

"I'm glad you came to me this time."

Leon nodded in agreement.

"We'll talk more in the morning."

Leon nodded again.

"Goodnight." He murmured.

[cillians-sweetheart]

Hihihi could you please Write for Jim from tds?

Ofc he’s so daddy 😋

Maid For Pleasure - Jim TDS

Jim Murphy(38) x Cleaner!Reader(18)

Plot: Y/N becomes desperate for a job while in school and comes across a house cleaning gig that ends up suiting her, and her employers needs quite well.

Content: age-gap, smut, dubcon, pervy Jim, dirty talk (m), dominant Jim, slight degradation, spanking, adultery (m), cvm trapping, porno type plot

(Because we don't know Jim's last name in The Delinquent Season, we're just gonna say his last name is Murphy in this scenario.)

Being a broke, College student -freshly 18- I was in desperate need of a simple job I could do after school to be able to afford my basic needs. I would search every day at the part-time jobs listed in my area, but all required too many hours that I didn’t have. It wasn’t just my school hours it cut into, but studying hours I urgently needed to pass.

I was already doing well in school because most of my time was spent studying and spending extra hours in class unlike everyone else who had jobs to attend to. I had a choice, either get some money so I can feed myself, or be the greatest student in all my classes. That second choice was for sure tempting but probably not the right choice in the end. I’m not someone who’s overly comfortable with asking for money. I’d rather starve.

After several, continuous hours scrolling through the internet in my dorm room bed, my eyes catch a listing for a “Part-time house cleaning - paying $20/hour.” It was perfect. Easy, and well paying. I instantly clicked the link and read further. “Available during mornings and noon between 9:00am - 1:00pm.” I could easily go during my lunch break and free period around 11am. So I clicked apply.

It wasn’t until the next morning I had seen an email from Jim Murphy accepting my application. I was pleased to see I could start today at 10am. Quickly I got up and out of bed, got ready in a comfy, but cool outfit that I wouldn’t mind dirtying while slaving my way through this man’s house. I didn’t doll up fully, but made myself presentable enough to hopefully keep this job until I can find something more ideal.

I waited around my dorm until the time came for me to leave. When I did I was emailed an address on one of the middle class streets. Definitely someone who could afford a maid.

I pulled up to the house with my hair pulled back in a messy bun, my makeup light and my clothes tight but comfortable. After taking a few -several- deep breaths I got out and knocked on the front door. A slim man with a kind face opened the door to me and introduced himself as, “Jim.”

“Y/N.” I grinned in return to him. His eyes slowly gazed from up and down my face and figure. As if he wasn’t expecting his cleaner to be someone like me.

“Please come in Y/N. Apologies for the clutter. Children.” He chuckled, with an almost flirtatious grin.

“No worries,” I smiled. “This is my job.”

Jim went back to continue his work in the kitchen on his laptop, quickly typing and occasionally sipping tea for a mug. His dark brown glasses laid comfortably on the bridge of his small nose, and his legs slightly spread beneath the table.

I purposely cleaned every other room first before I made my way to the kitchen because if I’m being honest I didn’t expect I’d feel almost flustered around him. And because of that I avoided him to not embarrass myself. I knew he was married and I’d respect that, but I couldn’t help finding him handsome. He was and I couldn't control that. I’d manipulate myself into believing my attraction towards him was purely his fault to hide from the shame.

Finally the time came where I had absolutely nothing else to do in any other room in the house. Not even a speck of fuzz on the carpet. I kept my head down coming into the kitchen, reframing from any and all eye contact. I wiped the counters, vacuumed the floor, dusted and lastly scrubbed every surface from the floor to the cabinets.

I felt while on my knees scrubbing around the edges of the furniture, eyes on me. But each time I’d peer between my legs, Jims eyes were glued to his computer screen. I made out that I was probably just paranoid, and jittery with that need for affection.

But I wasn’t. Really every time I’d refocus myself to cleaning, Jim’s eye would glance from the screen to between my legs. In his mind, he imagined the feeling of my plump ass in his hands and the feeling of it rubbing against his lap. The thought alone made him painfully hard. His aching bulge pressed tightly against his jeans. And of course, my skin tight leggings fit perfectly around the shape of my pussy. The sight was so clear and perfect.

Being on my hands and knees scrubbing at the floor, Jim couldn’t look away as my hips, and ass moved in sync with the motion of my arm. Each scrub they jiggled and began providing an easier view as I bent my chest lower, and lower to the tile floor.

Jim grabbed at his bulge in his pants and had stopped worrying if I caught him staring. He was far too deep into the fantasy of ruining my little body to care. He swore under his breath and his hand tightened around his pulsing cock under his jeans. While I on the other hand hadn’t had a clue what was going on behind me.

Suddenly Jim stood from his chair and came up behind me. “I think you missed a spot… on the counter.” He stated with a tone I couldn’t identify.

“Sorry sir,” I quickly stood to my feet, still not looking him in the eye. “I’ll clean it.” I quickly, with my rag, walked to the granite countertop and began to scrub the surface. I could hear, and feel Jim slowly moving closer to me from behind.

“That’s good…” He purred, coming close behind me, his hips and boner rubbing against my butt. “Just like that.”

I froze. Jim’s hands laid onto my hips and his hard cock pressed against my pussy through my leggings.

“Don’t stop, just pretend I’m not here love” he leaned down with his hot breath on my neck. I continued to slowly stroke the counter with my damp rag. I felt panicked, and uneasy. But the feeling of him rubbing against my clit made me unbelievably wet.

“Mr Murphy…?” I whimpered, gripping the counter.

“Mhm?”

“What are you doing?” I asked with my voice shaky and unsure.

“You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve touched such a young, beautiful body,” he whispered to me. “I need this. I need to touch you.” Completely avoiding my question.

My skin felt hot and my cheeks went red at his words. And suddenly his big rough hands tugged at my leggings, pulling them down my plump ass. I wanted to say something but all that came out was a muffled whine.

Jim quickly undid his belt from behind me. The sound made my whole body freeze in place.

“You want this baby?” His voice was low and lustful as he stroked his now bare cock against my clothed clit.

I squirmed in return to him, “mhm..” I moaned.

“Yeah?” His hand gripped firmly to my plushy hip. “Is that why you wanted this job? To be fucked like a little maid?”

I was speechless. By his sudden dominance and the power he held on me, and the way I’d do whatever he told me scared me.

Jim, with one easy movement, ripped my little pink panties down my legs. I felt the cool breezy on my wet bare skin, and then his hot tip brushing between my slits. From behind me I could hear him groan at the sight. “Such a pretty little pussy,” He squeezed my soft thighs and spread them to look closely at my needy hole. “Good girl…”

Without a warning Jim began to push his throbbing cock into me. The deeper he went, the more he groaned, “mm, oh you’re so tight…” His hips pressed against my butt.

I could feel his thick cock stretching my wet walls, and hitting deep in my cervix. I gripped the countertop and my eyes rolled up while he began to slowly thrust himself into me. “Oh that’s good…” He moaned and his speed, and force grew pleasurably hard. My little body being fucked senselessly against his countertop, legs shaking and moaning far too loudly for my liking. I tried to bite my lip holding my sounds back, but each time I did Jim would slap my ass forcing me to whimper and moan at his command.

The sweet sound of moans, and wet skin slapping filled the room. My pleasure made me almost scream as he forcefully beat me with his cock. And the way he’d slap my ass made my pussy drip and tighten around him.

“Fuck…” He squeezed my ass pounding me forcefully, “You feel so much better than my wife… god you're just so sexy.” He groaned with an assertive tone. “You like that? You want my cock?”

“Mhm” I moaned with my eyes rolling into my head. I felt so close with the force of him hitting every good spot. I squeezed against him trying to hold back, but the pulsing and wetness caught his attention.

“Cum for me.” He demanded and landed a hard slap on my ass. “Cum on my cock.”

With the way his voice sounded, my legs shook and my pussy fluttered and pulsed against his cock. My sweet fluids dripped down my leg and soaked his length. I moaned so loudly he finally held his hand over my mouth muffling my orgasm.

I stood there barely able to keep myself up while he finished beating my insides. I couldn’t stay quiet as I continuously came until he pulled out. And when he did he stroked his cock eagerly, his cum spitting all over my clit and aching hole. It was hot, and thick. And before I could do anything he yanked my panties up, trapping his hot cum on my pussy.

I felt sticky and sensitive, and Jim quickly lifted his pants. He grabbed me and pulled my back against his chest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred. “I want you back here next week. And I’ll show you something that’ll need cleaning.”

I left his house and he paid me $200 cash. I felt like a prostitute in a way, but also real happy that I could finally take myself out to dinner and have something to look back to when I’d get into bed tonight.

[velnoni]

100% down with demi Ford and interested in relationship headcanons!

Ford x Reader Relationship Headcanons

I'm so happy for this ask, I haven't received any in ages. Also thank you for agreeing, here ya go! This is gonna be a long one.

He's a very busy fella, catching up on old and creating new experiments after saving the world with his family. Would like to say you guys met as acquaintances when he picks up a job at the local college in Gravity Falls. He doesn't like freeloading off of Stan even though it was originally his home.

Being real here, the last thing on his mind is a relationship, let alone a romantic one. It's not that he's against one, but there is so much he missed out on after being trapped in portal.

With the kids returning home, Ford & Stan trying to fix their relationship, it'll dawn upon him that while Gravity Falls feels like home, it doesn't at the same time. Just like when he first arrived, he'll feel isolated and lonely, a figment of the past.

Having someone to speak to, even a work buddy, would be a healthy step for his to explore relationships outside the family. You two having the same lunch breaks and holding up small conversations help ease away the trepidation in his stomach. He's very apprehensive towards you at first but if you show interest in his work, he'll open up a bit.

Will ask you for help with modern technology. Some of his students gripe with him for not using his email. He appreciates your help and hopes not to be a burden. You're impressed by his use of vocabulary and learn new words every week.

Goes without saying, but he has mountains of trust issues. Trouble sleeping, eating, etc can affect his mood, so sometimes you might have pity on him and bring him something sweet to drink/munch on. A silent gesture, and at first, he wonders what your game is. "Can't help a friend?" After that ensues the endless nights of wondering if you two truly are friends, if this is something worth investing in. He never excelled in the social department as much as he hated to admit it and will go to Stan about it. Might even ask the kids on the next face time for advice.

He's nervous at the idea of having a friend, the last time he was used and it nearly cost the life of humanity. Never again. Stan suggested the first step to hanging out outside work is to ask you to go drinking. Ford was pessimistic at first but Stan's logic didn't sound too bad (for once) and after he asks you and you accept it became the occasional thing to go drinking at a pub where the beer is bad and finger food was edible enough.

He finds himself looking forward to hanging with you outside work, the two of you indulging your day to day and past stories. You could always tell he was hiding something or perhaps hesitant about the nature of his past...but eventually he shows you the abnormalities of Gravity Falls. At first you were bewildered at the reality, but as time passed you would indulge with Ford in his studies. Sometimes planning hikes on the weekend or setting up traps to catch gnomes and find out what's under their hat. He wasn't keen on the idea of taking you to more dangerous expeditions.

You enjoyed watching old series with him. According to Ford he had a lot of media to catch up on, sometimes Stan would keep you two company. Was upset to find out Micheal Jackson passed away.

Of course you'll meet Stan, who takes to shooting his horrible jokes at you in attempts to make you laugh. It works and Ford questions your sanity. The dynamic between you three is refreshing.

He was visiting your home with a gift of chocolate and his favorite book of the month, you couldn't help but wonder what the occasion was. When Ford tells you about his plans to sail with his brother over lost time, he bit his lip. "The way you talk about Stan is like you haven't see him in forever." That elected silence from him before Ford sighs. "It's a long story." You assure him you have all the time in world. And that's when he tells you everything. There were moments of long silence when certain things became too rough to speak on but you had patience.

In the end, the two of you sat in your living room, Ford with a solemn expression on his face and his eyes distant. As you digested all the info you were given you asked if you could hug him. He was surprised but consented. He didn't realize how much he needed it.

"Do you miss him?" Ford looks at you and then at the TV. It was a long time before he answered. "I miss the person I thought he was. I thought he was my friend." You know, you know that very well and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'll never let someone take advantage of me again." You were proud of him.

Funds from his job at the college and the Mystery Shack helped in the creation of the Stan O' War II. It was bittersweet seeing Ford and his brother off, asking him to write to you when he could. He promised and to that you smiled. He found himself fond of that smile. Not perfect, not happy or sad, but keen on the acceptance of reality.

You get to see his expression when you gift both Stanley and him echo flowers. You explained you did your own research and thought these as perfect gifts. These flowers could repeat any sound around them and they glowed a beautiful shade of cyan blue at night.

It wasn't often Ford wore his emotions on his sleeve but he couldn't help but become teary eyed much like his brother who was feigning dust in his eyes. It had been so long since anyone was so...nice to him. He felt like he didn't deserve it sometimes.

You two become pen pals as he and Stan sail the world and he won't consider romantic feelings unless Stan asks him one day.

If you two invest in a romantic relationship it would be after they return from sailing the world and it would be extremely slow. But you're both willing.

That's the end of this headcanon! If you want more of a romantic take, asks are always open! Reblogs & likes are always appreciated!

[fanficsandcodposts]

König X Reader (F) ~Nerdy Little Maus~ When the reader successfully gets into a Dark Web Forum and makes a name for herself, how unfortunate for her she's a little to trusting with her client. How fortunate for the client, König, though that she falls right into his trap for him to take his nerdy little maus, all for himself. (Daddy Issues, Sugar Daddy, Kidnapping, Corruption Kink, Size Kink, Female Reader) Ao3 Link No TW - Part 1

Life had not been kind to you when you were young. Your mother passed away tragically, leaving you to be cared for by your father, who took the bottle to cope with her death. You tried desperately to gain his favor by excelling in your studies, but sadly, his drinks kept all his attention.

You were taking a computer science class in high school and excelling at learning code. The teacher, Mr. Johnson, was impressed at your ability to pick up the new information so quickly. Mr. Johnson pulled you aside one day and handed you a flyer for an ethical hacking competition; he truly believed you had what it took to win. For a few weeks straight, you stayed after school studying with a small group of other students, learning everything Mr. Johnson knew to teach. On the Saturday of the competition, your father begrudgingly permitted you to go with Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson, and a few other classmates as a group.

You won the competition that day and were awarded a $10,000 scholarship to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). The joy you felt as you stood on stage accepting your scholarship brought tears of happiness to your eyes. It was a shame your father was too busy-(drunk) to see how you glowed with pride at the most significant achievement of your life thus far.

Now, you sat in a dingy studio apartment. Staring at your Dell laptop at overdue bill emails. Student loans, rent, and credit card payments all accumulated with no significant income to pay them. You graduated from MIT but at the cost of over $80,000 in student loans. You couldn't find a job in the computer science field; the only work you landed was as a bartender at the bar down the street from your place. At least you were good at making drinks; tips kept the lights on, but you were sure you'd never make it out of the financial ruin you sadly got yourself into.

Whenever the manager encountered computer issues, you were always the first one he'd call. One day, while on the clock, you sat in his office, updating his pc to Windows 10. He watched as you had no issues clicking here and there; it was almost infuriating because, to him, what you did so effortlessly would have taken him hours to achieve just step one.

"You know, sweetheart, you need to get out of here and get a job in the computer field." Mike, the manager, said gruffly as he leaned arms crossed on his office door frame.

"Would if I could, Mike. I've all about givin' up on that dream." You replied, still staring at the blue computer screen.

"Don't cut yourself short. You are young, beautiful, and way smarter than any of the other idiots I have working here. Bring in the most money, too. I would miss that, though, if ya leave."

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, well, I use my pretty privilege more than my fucking MIT degree. But it helped me pull a $100 tip last week from the bachelor party, though. So don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, Mike."

Mike stands quietly and clears his throat, waiting a brief moment before he speaks again.

"Don't tell anyone I told ya, alright? But my buddy David knows a kinda underground Dark Web group that is always looking for someone like you. You know, that knows how to do computer stuff." He talked as he gestured vaguely with his hands.

You turn your head to Mike with a curious, almost dumbfounded look. "I don't know, Mike. The Dark Web is a pretty scary place I've heard. But they have open computer science jobs?"

"Yeah, from what I could understand, it's like a job forum, I guess. They have special passwords and whatever, but if you get in, they post jobs for people to take up and work."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Mike, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness in thinking of you, so you decided to take the bait.

"Sure, you give me the info, and I'll look into it, boss man."

A few days later, you received an email from someone you guessed was Mike's buddy, David, on your day off and clicked the link that opened a new web browser to a black screen. You fiddled with the settings on your old Dell laptop while sitting cross-legged on your thrifted couch when you increased the brightness to see a small set of instructions.

"I'll be dammed." You spoke quietly as you began your journey to unlock the puzzles hidden in the code.

It took five hours to finally get to the last section that unlocked access to the Dark Web forum. Sure enough, there were jobs from all around the world posted. As quickly as your excitement grew, worry flooded over you. These were not regular hacking jobs. Some were as simple as finding passwords to ex-lovers' accounts, but others were looking for classified government data locked away behind high-security firewalls. The thought of possible jail time or worse was frightening, so you shut your laptop and went to shower before bed. That night, you couldn't sleep, primarily due to the fear of the unknown but also because some of the jobs posted had the amount of money they were offering when completed. The memory of a 10,000 dollar payout for a hacking job bounced around your mind, toying with you. It danced along in bitter-sweet harmony with the memory of the 10k scholarship you won so many years ago.

On your next day off, you entered the forum again. It was too hard to resist the temptation of a simple job paying your rent for the month. So you avoided the big, scary ones and stuck to hacking into wealthy civilian accounts. You created an online persona account that allows the clients to send money and messages as needed. You called yourself "Cookie," a play on Cookie pop-ups for advertisers to gather your online information. Soon, you grew a small following and became recognized for your impressive hacking abilities and Trojan Virus creations. You told yourself repeatedly you were only ruining wealthy people's lives. What is a million dollars stolen from a billionaire anyway? It only took eight months to pay back almost all your debts. You've paid your rent up, no more credit card bills, and you've paid $5,000 into your student loan debts. You felt on top of the world and proud of your mischievous achievements.

It had been a long shift at the bar, and you entered your tiny apartment completely exhausted. You reheated some leftovers and took your regular seat on the couch. You open your laptop to see a new message on your Dark Web account.

"Hallo, Cookie. I am very impressed by your work. Care to look at a job I think you would be perfect for?"

You stared at the message as your curiosity peaked. You click on the stranger's profile to learn more about the mysterious sender. There is no profile picture, but in a small bio, the sender had "Austria" with a cute little red and white flag. They identified themselves as male, and his username was "TheKingCol."

That's interesting, you thought. You haven't worked with many international clients thus far. Your eyes began to cross as exhaustion set in deep in your bones. So, you decided to pick back up with the stranger tomorrow after sending him a message.

"Thank you for your message; yes, I would like to speak further with you. Let's chat more tomorrow."

You woke up later than usual with the sun high in the sky, peeking through your closed curtains. You stretched your body, and after a trip to the bathroom, you returned to your laptop. A new message was waiting for you, and you clicked it open to read. It was a Word Document link with what the client needed. He needed a Trojan Virus, and it had to be discreet so that the victim downloading it wouldn't know it was a fake link.

"That's not too bad." You thought to yourself.

You had created multiple Trojans up to this point, but it helps tremendously if you know what would make the victim unsuspecting to download the disguised Trojan.

"Hello again. I received your instructions, but I would like to discuss more details needed to create the perfect Trojan you are looking for, if possible."

You sent the message and waited a few minutes before your stomach began to growl. You stood up and began to rummage through your fridge for anything you could make to resemble breakfast and settled on making two fried eggs and a buttered piece of toast.

Once you ate your food, you returned to your seat to see another message had come through.

"Ja, may I call you to discuss details?"

You stared at the email, re-reading it. You quickly googled what language is spoken in Austria, and it said that mainly German is spoken. "He must not be a native English speaker," you thought, but that shouldn't be a problem. You, however, only knew English and maybe one or two words in Spanish.

"I'm sorry, I do not make phone calls or talk to clients outside the forum." You sent the message back and waited while you took sips of coffee from your favorite mug.

"Ah, but can't you make an exception for me? I understand your concern, little maus. I see you are a woman, no? Your father taught you well not to trust strangers on the internet."

You scoffed out loud at his message, placed your mug on the coffee table in front of you, and typed him back before thinking.

"Let's be clear that my Father has never done shit for me, first of all." You instantly regretted the message sent, normally you would write messages but always caught them before you tapped the enter button. There is no way to unsend a message like on Facebook. Airing out such dirty laundry to a client was entirely uncalled for and absolutely embarrassing.

"I'm sorry, that was very unprofessional of me. Please ignore that comment." You sent another message as quickly as you could type it. A few agonizing minutes later, you received a response.

"Is that so? A woman needs a supportive father to look after her, you know. No need to apologize Liebling. Here is my phone number; please call me if you decide to proceed. I will not discuss any more details by message."

That was the last message he sent before his profile was marked as "offline."

A day later, you paced around your living room. You held your phone tightly in your right hand. There was something about what he said that stuck with you long after you read it. Why on earth did you let your daddy's issues slip through to a prospective client? Embarrassment washed over you all over again, and soon enough, the anxiety of calling a client outside the forum was an afterthought. Before you knew it, you had typed in the number and hit the green call button.

The phone connected, but on the other side of the receiver was quiet.

"Hello?" You called out. "It's um, Cookie, from the forum." A second passed before you heard a voice from the other end.

"Ah, my little maus, so happy you've finally called."

[sqgeism]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ  𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 | kenji sato x gender neutral reader

love mail     —      ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ full & utter credit to @coralwitchsheep in support of their preview of a kenji x reader series they're starting! (i'd suggest reading theirs first before reading this for context) i'm inlove w the idea and can't wait to read the next parts o(T□T)o ♡♡ this is my own spin on it, so to cut it short — likely not canon events! i js wanted to make a oneshot w relatively same concept,, if this does okay maybe part two. maybe ! (this is kinda long 🙁)

︰꒱꒱ "THAT WENT WELL." you grumbled, entering your home with a frustrated sigh. what kind of guy runs away from an interview? all you asked was what could've possibly made him want to start from the beginning by coming back to japan. sure, maybe you startled him with your presence after 20 years, but come on. can't he be a little more professional? and maybe a little more welcoming to his best friend once upon a time?

as you snuggled into the comfort of your couch, you wanted to binge watch a few movies that you've been putting off.. but work called. you had to check your email incase any of your private interview bookings were accepted, or if the head journalist had yet another task for you. and if so, then to your dismay you'd have to figure out bookings and schedule.. and you should've been overjoyed to not receive any new ones, but there was one unopened email. curiously, you click on it — and you pause. kenji sato, as in — the one that just ran off after a single question, kenji sato? how did he find your email.. something you'll have to figure out later, but continuing to scan the contents, it seems like he wanted to have a one on one interview, and everything had been planned in advanced. it's in a restaurant not far from your home, in fact.. it was your favorite one from when you were a kid. reading the restaurant name makes you smile a little, fond memories of kenji's family and yours going there together, but you quickly shake your head to focus, this was basically work — after all.

it was a dinner, he wanted to apologize for his dismissive attitude to you earlier that day and give you a private interview. the entire email honestly felt computer generated, if mina wrote it you wouldn't be surprised until you got to the end;

"please, (name), let's catch up. professional setting or not, that's up to you. i just need to see you."

now you had to admit, that felt...— you weren't sure what it felt like, but you felt something while reading that. your fingers swiftly type back a response, accepting the invitation, with no bad blood between them for the prior interaction. as you click send, your mind began to wander off to possible situations. after all, twenty years.. it's a significant amount of time, and people can change — you just hoped it wouldn't be the worst reunion in the world.

the following day passed like spring breeze, next thing you knew you were dressing up for the arranged meeting with kenji. unsure whether to be casual or business, you weren't even set onto whether you wanted to catch up, or catch a story. job or feelings? now that's a hard decision. in the end, you went for a mix of both, a casual business attire.

you wondered if it was intentional for kenji to pick a place so close to home, literally and figuratively; it was a 5 minute walk and it.. honestly means a lot to you. your family still visits there often, and there's not one day that they don't discuss how much more joyful things would be with the sato's to share a meal with you. you couldn't help but silently agree, even if you wanted to act like you hated kenji for leaving.

you thought it would be smart to be there 10 minutes earlier, but kenji seems to have beaten you. he hasn't noticed you coming in yet, however he seems nervous. he's talking with the elderly head chef, who could easily recognize professor sato's only son boy — catching up after all those years. his head moves to the door by coincidence, catching your gaze. you wave hello and he smiles, waving back.

"holy shit." kenji feels like the air from his lungs is stolen right out of him. you've grown so much, well — yes, of course, it has been years, but god he didn't think you'd still have that affect on him. even as kids, as teenagers, and now as an adult — he couldn't help but feel breathless at the sight of you.

"hi mr. sato." you'll start, sitting next to him and giving a friendly smile. he laughed, taking his shades off his face and resting them down onto the table. "you know you don't have to do that with me, use my name. it's not like we're strangers." you didn't expect that, and kenji could see that in your eyes — he almost regrets saying it the way he did, but your expression melts into a much more casual one. "alright, kenji."

his attitude felt different, honestly. the things you've read about him from articles, he's an egoist — completely full of himself, he just can't stop talking about his own achievements. so to sit right next to him, and to feel like you're a little kid again, just eating wirh your best friend.. it's weird.

the silence is suffocating, food sizzling on pans and fire burning were the only things being 'exchanged' between the two of you.

deciding to break the silence, you cleared your throat. "so.. how has life been in america?" you immediately regret it. now you'll have to listen to him boast about his wins, how happy he's been — how you haven't even crossed his mi— "lonely."

your racing thoughts came to a pause at the sound of his voice, weirdly vulnerable, — you unknowingly made it so easy for him. "it was lonely. sure, but i won't lie—" kenji chuckled, although it lacked the joyful emotion tied to such form of laughter, and instead — sorrow. "the spotlights great. winning awards and trophies, it's what i've wanted to do for years. but.."

his hand moves over to his face, and suddenly it's harder to keep eye contact with you. he leans back into his chair and scoffs, looking away. "i missed japan. i missed my family.. i — i missed you."

your mouth goes slightly agape in an 'o' shape. you suddenly fumble on any words you can think of, even in your own mind, you begin to stutter. "i'm—" you'll try to speak but it's like you have no mouth, nothing can describe how you feel at the moment, it's such a basic and simple arrangement of words, an 'i miss you', and yet — why do you feel like this? you resented him for not calling, you envied how happy he was through a tv screen, and you wished that he'd just.. come back. and he did. he was doing exactly what you had hoped for in the past 20 years but — "i.. i've watched your life through a screen. every game, every loss, anything that involved you. and for those years, it felt impossible to tell *anyone* we were best friends. once." the *once* hit kenji harder than you thought. "but i wished, like some child spotting a shooting star — that you'd call. and not those half assed ones, where it was really just our parents talking and they call us over to say hi to each other. i mean, like we used to."

"what do you mean?" "you know what i mean."

your mind feels nostalgic as you reminicse; "2AM, you'll be talking about some punk from school who gave you trouble. and how i'd promise i'll beat them up once mom and dad had enough money to visit." a pitiful sigh escaped your lips. "they never did."

"i just.. i never wanted to move on, kenji. i never wanted to stop waiting. but.. i didn't want to keep feeling like a dog at your door for you."

as clichè as it is to hug someone during a dramatic monologue, kenji felt like there was nothing else he could do. words were practically silence when actions could do much more for him. his arms wrapped around you tightly, and his face was buried into your shoulder. he wanted to explain, but there was so much to cover in so little time — and he honestly just wanted you to feel better at the moment. "i wish i had known this is how you felt all those years apart. and i wish that i could've done more, but shit happens and i—"

and it's even more clichè to return that hug, with just as much feeling. "i know. and let's just.. talk things out, yeah? i've got a free day tomorrow so.. i don't think i'll mind spending the night with you."

"reword please, you'd love to spend the night with me."

"don't flatter yourself too much before i change my mind."

"alright alright, let's just eat already."

[cdelphiki]

I submitted my final project yesterday, and took my final exam today, and now I'm officially done with this stupid class and this stupid certificate forever. Lmao. Stay tuned for my rant about how frustrating this experience has been for me, if you want:

I'm so annoyed with this class, because the professor was so frustrating. She didn't grade a single thing I did all semester until FINALS WEEK. She also didn't open up the instructions for the final project until she told me I was done with it (we had teams meetings so she was just verbally telling me what to do). She told me that the instructions for writing the abstract are in the project module, and I was like... what project module? When she finally opened the module and I was able to actually read it, I found that my final project she had just approved as being ready to submit didn't meet the minimum requirements? And when I asked about it she said "yes those are the minimums." LADY? DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? YOU JUST SAID MY PROJECT WAS DONE??? It was 5pm on Friday, the last day of finals week when she did this, BY THE WAY. I had been working on the project all week, I'd put, like, 30 hours into this damn project already. And she couldn't have been early on like "hey there's a project module" so I could have even KNOWN there was supposed to be a module I couldn't see? This is after all semester long I was emailing her asking 'where is this reading, where is this lab' etc etc because she just simply didn't upload stuff or release it as the syllabus stated she would. I had to ask her for things weekly that should have just been there in the course material. Oh yeah, and those instructions for an abstract? Not in the project module. I just wrote an abstract how I think it should be. Then her exams she writes are just.... she really needs to use grammarly. Some of her exam questions made ZERO sense, because it just wasn't proper English. English is her second language, so I understand why it happened and do not judge that, but I do not find it acceptable when this is a graduate level class, in English, and you mark me wrong if I don't answer the question correctly? Just run the question through grammarly. The final exam had instructions that were like 'for essay questions write a response between 75 and 100 words, this is open book, you can talk to your classmates but your answer must be your own," and that was the instructions. Then 20 of 26 questions just had a single word as the question? Like, what do you want me to do with this? Define it? Explain it? Give an example of it? All of the above? None of the above? And she had one question that I SWEAR said "give three (4) examples of...." like?????????? and another question said "name the three types of...." but there are FIVE types of that thing?

Anyway I went to eviscerate her in the course eval and learned it closed yesterday but I wasn't done with the class yesterday so I was waiting. Oh well. My complaints will be kept to myself. She has strong suits. She's very nice, and when she actually responds to my messages (oh yeah she ghosted me the first half of this last week, when I was working on the project. I was submitting drafts to her via email like she asked me to do and she just simply didn't respond until Wednesday.) she's pretty helpful. I also DID learn a lot in her courses, and in this program overall.

The entire certificate program is sorely lacking, tbh. The first professor I had was also my advisor, and he would just flat up not respond to my emails. I don't think I'm too needy, I tend to get my work done on my own. I asked him the answer to a final question after the final was due and grades were posted, and he didn't reply to me. Like, okay dude. That's kind of rude. It's your job to teach me and I think I'm doing well by actually trying to learn what the correct answer is after the fact? Whatever. The second two classes were this same lady twice, and all my complaints about this semester can be applied to last semester, too.

Overall, I'm very glad my work paid for me to attend these classes and it was not coming out of my pocket, because if I was paying as much as work paid for this, I would have been in the dean's inbox every single semester with my issues lmao. I WILL be a Karen if it's warranted. Not grading *any* of my work until after the semester is over is unacceptable, not providing material on time is unacceptable, having exams that are indecipherable is unacceptable, etc etc. The list goes on. I didn't get my midterm grade until the final exam was open to take, also. If I as a student am expected to keep up with deadlines, my professor, as the professor, should also be expected to keep up with deadlines. (all within reason and with allowances for true problems, ofc)

[sadceline]

THE ENHYPEN HOST || 1

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Minggyu (Seventeen) & BTS

PAIRING: FEM OC X ENHYPEN

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.

GENTRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: You moved to Seoul to start over after a bad experience, and everything seems to be going well, you even manage to work for HYBE. You discover, however, that you owe them almost a billion won, money you don't have and don't know how to recover: but don't worry because Hybe itself offers you a solution.

Your body in exchange for paying off your debt.

Do you accept?

Okay, follow me for a moment!

A little context is needed to understand the dire situation in witch I find myself.

I'm a graphic designer, I was born in Campania, Italy, but I moved very early to Bologna, still in Italy but in another region, with mom and dad who are now little more than acquaintances to me, where I spent my existence until my 22nd birthday, when I moreover found out that my idiot boyfriend was cheating on me, with his cousin.

I didn't have time to feel bad about it, because I was pretty disgusted in general. However, it wasn't that I was in love with him, I simply found myself a bit lost - with the only known relatives inhabitants of small remote little cities in the Campania hinterland, who haven't seen me in at least ten years, and a failed career as an advertising graphic designer.

Unable to maintain the hectic pace of business, not to mention the harassment and constant mansplaining I was suffering, I retreated into freelancing. By being able to manage my schedule, I could also manage me, and think about the future.

For several months I contemplated going to Spain but then one of the few friends I had left at the time, after hosting me in her house for some strange reason in Sorrento (in Campania!), always kept secret from her, proposed me to leave with her for Seoul.

It was the fashion of the moment, I had heard about it, but I was too focused on self-pity to be interested in such frivolities - as a matter of fact, while we had been planning the trip for months, I got a little obsessed myself.

She likes BTS, for me too overblown, too famous. I used to focus more on the up-and-comers, there was one band in particular, it consisted of one guy who was better looking than the other, however, not being a kpop senior yet I sometimes confused them, I couldn't even pronounce their name.

So you can imagine my excitement when, just two months after moving to Seoul, I was contacted by a Hybe agent who, after looking at my portfolio found on a website, said he was pleasantly impressed and would like something in my style, for the cover of ENYPHEN's next album, that's how he pronounced it!

After I heard him say those words over the phone I was silent, not because I was thinking about it - of course I was speechless.

It had to be some scam, it had to be! There can be no such coincidence in real life.

The man emailed me his calling card, so I could look up the information on the Internet, and a place to meet.

At Hybe's headquarters.

Are you kidding me? Ester said thus. "Do you think I would let you go alone? What if he is a maniac?"

I didn't speak Korean at the time, but I knew English pretty well, so, yes, I was able to get the job, but in the end, for some reason, my illustration was used for the SIDE B of the album, completely different, official but not primary concept version. I was quite hurt at first, but then I realized that it was already absurd to be able to work with them, I really had no complaints.

Of course, we never met either BTS or ENHYPEN, although once I went alone (I couldn't always go with Ester), I saw Beomgyu from TXT who I have a very heavy crush on, although he always gave me very strange vibes. I obviously didn't even get close to him and looked at him from a distance, however, he was in a hurry anyway, so it's not certain that he would stop.

Okay, let's move on!

After the collaboration was over, I pocketed good money, we ate takeout for at least two weeks in a row, we went in clubs all the time, while every now and then I had flashbacks of my ex-boyfriend, for whom I had begun to feel a strange empathy, as if he were mentally ill. It wasn't the cousin thing as the fact that he had no need to look for a lover - we pretty much did it all the time! It was one of the few things I did well and fucking gladly!

But maybe, I wasn't good enough?

Months passed, Ester taught me Korean, which she had taught herself, and while she was having fun with a lot of guys, I had entered a new state of paralysis. After working with Hybe I expected many requests, many contacts, would come, but instead nothing. Small jobs for small activities with small monetary and psychological rewards.

I didn't do the same as Ester not because I was demure - that adjective was never a part of me - as much as because I still couldn't understand let alone speak Korean, and not everyone knew English, so sometimes it happened that I felt uncomfortable, out of place. I managed to use the time of work paralysis to engage in study, I had to have a social life too! Independently of Ester!

Eventually I decided that for ten hours a day Ester and I could communicate only in Korean, she agreed without thinking and began the experiment. After three months I was able to speak Korean almost fluently, to the point that sometimes we did not even return to speaking Italian.

I was ready to embark on enterprising and exciting multi-ethnic relationships, socializing, and trying to understand South Korea better!

I discovered that it was a terrible place.

Not so much from the foreigner's point of view, but for the Koreans themselves, all very rigid with each other and with themselves, always competing, but also misogynistic, macho, not to mention the jokes about foreign women I heard! Terrible.

Tired of South Korea, after only a year, I talked to Ester about going back-it came out as a hypothetical, after all, I was going to do what she wanted anyway. I didn't want to be alone, and she seemed happy to live with me.

She convinced me to stay a little longer, she wanted to introduce me to her official boyfriend, a good one, really, not interested exclusively in sex! Yes, they are all like that, I had experienced it myself.

Just before I could meet him, however, the two broke up. Sad for Ester who looked devastated, but underneath happy, maybe to be able to go back to Sorrento, to breathe clean air, I consoled her for a whole night, we stayed up drinking and laughing, or crying.

Before I went to bed, in the early hours of dawn, I looked at my cell phone as usual and noticed that Hybe had texted me, again!

Sleep disappeared, I went back to Ester, who had fallen asleep on the floor in the living room, and woke her up to tell her the fantastic news, fuck, I was so excited! Who was I going to work for this time? TXT? BTS? Seventeen?

Copyright violation: that was the subject line, and oddly enough, the entire email was written completely and exclusively in Korean. I was being sued on behalf of Hybe for infringing the copyright of a Pakistan artist who had in turn sued Hybe, because of my design, and won!

What great news! I had gotten incredibly good at Korean.

"Ama, are you okay? Oh, Ama? You look pale!" Ester had said, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me.

"Hybe wants compensation of eight hundred million won," I had said, under my breath, incredulously, "that's like five hundred thousand euros."

"But you don't have it!"

"I know I don't have it."

"Then you can't give it to them, sue them!"

Yes, it would have been nice and easy but I had no idea how the law worked in Korea, and anyway I couldn't sue them because the contract I had signed had exactly one copyright clause in it. If I had in any way caused damage to the agency's image, through copyright infringement, I would have been called upon to compensate them one billion won, which however had been generously raised to eight hundred million, to make it easier for me, understand?

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Reach Mexico? Return to Italy? Apply for a loan? And would they grant it to me? Ester advised me to talk to them directly and look for a reasonable solution, offered to accompany me, but when we arranged to meet, they told me to show up alone, or with my lawyer, although this was not necessary because we would talk about it cordially.

I knew Korean quite well now, and inside Hybe practically everyone spoke English. I'll go alone.

I met the CEO himself, a man with round glasses and a kind, smiling, serene face, Park Jiwon. He told me to make myself comfortable and congratulated me for going without a lawyer, since what he was going to propose was best heard only by me.

"Changing the illustration from SIDE A to SIDE B, that was your greatest good fortune, wasn't it?" He had said, smiling in that gentle way that was now chilling.

"I am deeply sorry Mr. Park, I have never seen-"

"I know you can't pay - he had politely interrupted me, getting up from his desk and motioning his secretary to leave. - I'm here to offer you something beneficial, in which you'll always be safe and won't have to worry about, however, it's up to you to decide whether you'd rather return the money or not."

It's called the Jyp method.

Are you curious? This is a funny story.

Korean idols, whether male or female, are people of extreme beauty. It's unthinkable that they won't touch or let anyone touch them for years on end, but that's exactly what the fans want - who feel they are in complete control of their bodies.

Creepy, I realize, but it is quite normal in some parts of Asia.

So how can these poor boys "let off steam"?

The males are given a girl to live with them, together they can have as much fun as they want but within the limits of the host's safety and preferences.

For females it is a bit different but he still wanted to explain it to me, in fact for them multiple partners are needed and these partners do not live with them, but they can make appointments, as if they were gigolos working only for them.

The reason why this is used is because of scandals, any outside relationship cannot really be monitored by the agency. If girls and boys do not need to look for a stable partner and can simply take out their sexual desires on someone, the risk of scandal decreases significantly and their popularity is safe, as are the earnings on them.

In contrast to male guests, female guests tend to be a bit more problematic, which is why only one is usually chosen.

He makes it clear up front that it is forbidden to have relationships with idols, both parties must behave respectfully, and for any complaints from the guest, the agency will take appropriate action, so it is a completely safe situation, understand?

It is called the Jyp method because it was the CEO of the music label of the same name who invented it.

What do you care, you should do it! That's what I thought too, I mean - the band in question was really Enyphen! That way you won't have to pay for it anymore and you'll be hanging out with a lot of pretty boys! That's what you're thinking, it's obvious, really - I thought it first.

Yet to say yes, just offhand, I didn't feel like it.

Mr. Park told me to think about it calmly, giving me two days.

I talked to Ester about it; she did not give me any advice.

She just told me to read the contract well, this time, in case I wanted to accept it, but still she would not judge me, and then I could present them to her - even though I still knew nothing about how the matter was going to unfold.

Clearly I agreed, it was obvious, wasn't it? Otherwise we wouldn't be here.

NEXT CHAPTER:

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Heart's Day | n.r x w.m

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: fluff(??), dirty talking, implied smut, light angst, pet names, mentions of bruises and wounds

Summary: Natasha and Wanda are about to celebrate their first Valentine's day together. What happens when Natasha has to leave and Wanda has to be on her own on such special occasion?

A/N: I wrote this one in between answering emails at work and this is pretty much a self-indulgent fic in celebration of Valentine's Day. 💜 Happy reading!

╰┈➤ Masterlist

Wanda eagerly anticipated spending Valentine's Day with Natasha this Wednesday, marking their first celebration together. She took thoughtful steps to make it special by pre ordering a bouquet of red roses and she also thought of scattering petals around her bedroom for a surprise touch. Additionally, she meticulously planned a romantic candlelit dinner, showcasing her culinary skills to impress Natasha.

This upcoming Valentine's Day holds great significance for Wanda, as she wants to express her deep affection and appreciation for Natasha. It's an opportunity for Wanda to convey gratitude for Natasha's unwavering efforts, despite her demanding job and hectic schedule. Wanda only has a vague idea of what Natasha's job entails, all she knows is that she holds a high position in a successful company, often finds herself immersed in work 24/7, and making most of her free time with Wanda.

However, Wanda's excitement took a hit when Natasha informed her of an unexpected business meeting that required her to fly to Europe just three days before Valentine's Day. Disappointment washed over Wanda, but she tried to be understanding of Natasha's professional commitments.

Natasha, expressing regret over the situation through a phone call, explained, "I'm truly sorry, detka. I wish I could reschedule, but this meeting is crucial for our business dealings." Despite her disappointment, Natasha was already packing for her flight, set to depart in less than four hours.

Wanda, fighting back tears, sighed heavily and asked, "When will you be back, Nat?"

"I can't predict the duration of this meeting, these deals sometimes extend to a week, including post-agreement celebrations," Natasha replied, the uncertainty of her return evident in her voice.

"Will you at least give me a call once you touch down? And where are you planning to stay?" Wanda kept her voice steady, not wanting to burden Natasha with her own emotions.

"I'm not exactly sure about my accommodation yet, but I'll make sure to call you as soon as I can, alright? I promise, baby."

Wanda, accepting the reality of the situation, simply replied, "Take care, okay? I'll be waiting for your call."

"I love you, my love. Until we talk again, goodbye for now."

****

A day passed without a word from Natasha, which was unusual. While it wasn't the first time Natasha missed a call due to her busy schedule, she typically sent a brief text to update Wanda. However, this time, there were no responses to Wanda's messages, fueling her anxiety. The worry escalated to thoughts of Natasha potentially being involved with someone else, an unfair assumption, yet Wanda couldn't help but overthink the situation. Recalling moments when Natasha was tied up in business meetings, Wanda questioned whether Natasha couldn't spare a minute for a call.

Fast forward to the third day since Natasha left, Valentine's Day arrived. Wanda still sent Natasha a heartfelt greeting, desperately hoping for a response. Sadly, the message only showed as delivered, without any acknowledgment. Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes as she gazed at the bunch of roses that were delivered in the morning. Unable to proceed with her planned surprise, Wanda still decided to decorate her room with a heart-shaped design of roses on top of the bed, a bucket of wine on the bedside table, and heart-shaped balloons attached to the ceiling. Faux-candles added an intimate ambiance, disappointed that Natasha wouldn't witness the effort. Completing the decorations, Wanda snapped a photo, sending it to Natasha with the caption, "I wish you were here, Natty. ❤️🥀"

Wanda sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day as her message remained unanswered.

Approaching midnight, the jingle of keys and footsteps in her apartment startled Wanda.

"Wanda?"

Natasha's voice echoed, prompting her to turn on the lights to search for Wanda.

"Natasha? You're here!" Wanda, leaping off the couch where she had been sleeping, embraced Natasha tightly.

"Yes, baby. I'm here now."

Wanda felt an overwhelming sense of relief knowing that Natasha had returned before the day ended. However, her joy was overshadowed by lingering concerns about Natasha's silence during her trip.

"Why didn't you call me back when I asked you to?" Wanda questioned with a hint of irritation, though her voice carried genuine concern.

Stepping back from the embrace, Natasha replied, "Things got incredibly busy when I landed. I'm sorry about that, my love."

It was then that Wanda had a chance to inspect Natasha's face and body. Noticing a cut on her eyebrow with a poorly cleaned wound and small tears on her neck, Wanda's concern deepened.

"What happened to you? Why do you have these wounds?" Wanda's voice revealed alarm as she anxiously fretted over Natasha's state.

"Shh now. I'm okay. I promise. Don't worry about me," Natasha reassured, purposefully diverting Wanda's attention by kissing her senseless.

Wanda melted under Natasha's kisses, moaning as Natasha's grip tightened around her waist.

"I've seen what you've done with your room," Natasha purred in her ears. "Can I see it?"

Wanda nodded, suddenly feeling a surge of arousal from Natasha's affection. She shrieked as Natasha effortlessly lifted her, arms wrapped around her thighs.

"Put me down, you scoundrel!"

Natasha chuckled at Wanda's reaction, carrying her towards the bedroom. Impressed with Wanda's efforts, Natasha was even more delighted when she saw the setup in person. Though the candles were extinguished, the moonlight cast an ethereal glow on the white sheet forming a heart-shaped design with roses. Playfully slapping Wanda on the backside, Natasha set her down.

"Wow, this is really good, detka."

Wanda beamed at Natasha's reaction and responded, "Thank you, it's my surprise for you! Do you like it?"

Natasha sat at the edge of the bed and turned on the candles that were placed on the footrest, beckoning Wanda to sit on her lap, "Come here, sweetheart. I will let you feel how much I like this grand effort of yours."

Wanda's cheeks instantly heated up knowing what's about to happen next.

"You know, you're all I think about whenever I'm away and my mind can't help but to remember how soft your skin is against mine." Natasha's hands travelled down to the hem of the satin night gown that Wanda was wearing and skimmed through the exposed thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin.

"How I love leaving hickeys on your chest and neck, so everyone will know that I own you." This was emphasised by an aggressive bite on the junction of Wanda's neck, which made her squirm in pain, but was soon soothed by Natasha's tongue.

"I thought of your delightful moans, sometimes I would need to shake my head just so I could get the sound out of my mind. But baby, I can't. I love how you sound, it shows how needy and desperate you are for me."

Wanda's nightgown was taken off of her at an instant, making her shiver from the sudden exposure. But Natasha's monologue wasn't done yet, and she continued, "And these fucking delicious tits that I could never get enough of. I want to be buried in them, all day long, the same thing with your thighs. One day I know I will suffocate on how hard you squeeze my head when you cum."

Natasha's nails raked over Wanda's thighs and at the same time, sucking on her nipples like a starved animal. "You're really mine, yeah?" Natasha's eyes sparked dangerously.

"You know I'm yours, completely," Wanda responded but her patience for Natasha's foreplay was wearing thin. "But I need you to fuck me right now."

"Hmm. You're impatient today. You miss me that much, huh?"

If Wanda could roll her eyes, she would. But she's not ready for the punishment that it would entail. "Please, Natasha. I need you so much," She rolled her hips desperately seeking friction.

"But honey, I am not done with enumerating the filthy thoughts I have about you." Natasha smirked at her.

"Don't tell me, show me instead," And with that, Wanda brought her hands on the side of Natasha's neck and started kissing her passionately. "Show me, please."

Natasha stood up while Wanda was still wrapped around her midsection and laid her down on the bed, right in the middle of the roses.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've seen." Natasha sincerely complimented her right before assaulting Wanda's lips.

"Take off your clothes, please." Wanda moaned in between the kisses and was forcing Natasha to remove her jacket. Natasha growled at how desperate Wanda was.

"I'll make love to you, all night long." It was a promise that Natasha will surely commit in order to make up for the days she was away from her lover.

****

Hours had passed, and a number of orgasms had been exchanged between the two women. Natasha was feeling utterly satisfied and she glanced at the woman by her side, now peacefully asleep. If someone had told her a year ago that she would be head over heels about a certain girl, she knew she'd shoot that person without hesitation.

Natasha felt like she hit the jackpot when she got to know Wanda and fell in love with her. She never expected to have a chance like this, especially with her line of work. Love was a new and unfamiliar emotion for Natasha, but Wanda made it special, and Natasha wanted her in her life forever. However, the harsh reality interrupted her blissful thoughts as her phone buzzed insistently, revealing an unwelcome caller ID. Answering the call, she knew trouble awaited.

"Where the fuck are you, Nat? You disappeared before the mission debrief, and Fury's losing his mind trying to find you."

Natasha disentangled herself from Wanda's embrace and headed to the living room while putting her pants on and t-shirt. "Don't make a big deal out of it. I had somewhere to be urgently."

Clint chuckled at Natasha's response. "Nah, you bolted because you needed to fuck someone. You were gone for nearly three hours! Get back here before Fury hunts you down, caught with your pants down."

Just as Natasha was about to reply, a voice interrupted her.

"Natasha? Who are you talking to?"

Clint seized the opportunity, exclaiming, "I knew it!" Natasha hastily ended the call, scrambling to come up with an explanation.

"It's just my co-worker. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"Are you coming back to bed?" Wanda asked with a sleepy voice.

"Actually, I have to go. There are things that need to be finalised that I didn't get the chance to do since I immediately left so I can see you." Natasha explained.

Wanda's doubts crept back in her mind and blurted out, "Are you cheating on me?" Her voice trembled as she tried to stay calm.

Taken aback by Wanda's question, Natasha immediately answered, "What? No! Why would you ask that?"

"You're always on business meetings and whenever you're on trips, you never call and you don't reply to my messages." Wanda pointed out.

"I am not cheating on you. I swear!" The redhead walked towards Wanda and placed her hands on her hips to pull her closer. "I don't even look at other people. I only have my eyes on you."

Wanda stared at Natasha's face intently, scrutinising whether she's being truthful but found nothing but sincerity. "You promise?"

"Yes, I promise. I love you, okay?" Natasha touched Wanda's lips before leaning down to kiss her.

"I love you, too. When are you leaving?"

Natasha's phone buzzed again indicating another call. Wanda saw the caller's name, Yelena, and raised her brow at Natasha as if asking who the caller was.

"It's my sister. Wait a second."

Natasha answered the phone and went to look at the window, she shook her head at the profanities that were coming out of Yelena's mouth and dropped the call.

"My sister also works at the company that I'm in and she's currently outside to get me. I will call you in the morning."

Wanda only nodded and kissed her girlfriend goodbye, her doubts still lingering in her head.

"Oh and I will pick you up for a lunch date tomorrow. Please dress up nicely." Natasha winked at Wanda before closing the door.

****

Meanwhile during the car ride heading to SHIELD, Yelena was berating Natasha for her behaviour.

"Are you really not going to tell Wanda that you're an assassin?" Yelena questioned, as if Natasha had sprouted a second head.

"How am I supposed to bring that up? Should I just casually mention, 'Oh, by the way, I kill people—'"

"—criminals," Yelena corrected Natasha.

"Yelena!"

"What? Don't be dumb, sestra. You need to tell her!"

"I will tell her when the time is right." Natasha answered.

"Good luck with that. You even had the guts to go to her while you still have small cuts in your face."

"Yeah, she actually asked about them and the bruises."

"Well, she's going to ask more questions if you continue leaving her like that and then coming back without a limb."

Natasha rolled her eyes at her sister's drama, but she knows Yelena is right to be concerned. Eventually, Wanda will ask more questions, and Natasha might struggle to keep secrets that could harm their relationship. She just hopes Wanda will stay with her once she learns about Natasha and the nature of her real job.

[inseobts]

Heyy, as a fellow art graduate, i can't help but see myself in your job related posts...

I didn't exactly study fine arts, that was part of my program, i'm an animator in a country that either exploits animators or jobs barely exist here bcs it's not a well known field.

I chose animation because i loved it, it made me so happy, and i was good at it. But no one ever told me i'd had to leave my country if i wanted to find a decent job and opportunities to keep growing.

I had no money to live abroad, i couldn't leave, so i started looking for jobs locally.

I got lucky and got my first job in a tiny video game studio, but not even a year passed and COVID hit and it went bankrupt.

After that... i spent 3 years unemployed.

I didn't know if i should blame the pandemic or my career choices, but i felt like all my efforts, money and time had been wasted. That i should have known better and picked a "real" career.

I had spent those 3 years sending emails to every local studio and company i could find, but all i got was "you're too good, we can't afford you", "hey, your work is amazing, but we're currently looking for students"... It was ridiculous.

I got desperate and started accepting jobs that overworked me. Once, i literally spent an entire month working 14h a day, every day... For like $300 total.

Then one day, like a miracle, a friend sent me a foreign job posting she casually found. It wasn't exactly animation, they were looking for video editors for corporate videos. I wanted to work on hand drawn short films, not corporate stuff.

But I was so desperate i didn't care and applied anyway. They got back to me almost immediately, and scheduled a meeting the next day. Even though I wasn't what they were looking for, they loved my work and saw an opportunity in it. And that's how i got hired.

It's been almost 4 years since then, 4 years working remotely with them. And honestly? It's been the best job I've ever had...

It's not something i love tbh, i don't particularly enjoy clicking buttons 😅, but i can't complain because my boss treats me so well and i could say even spoils me. I've grown and learned so much as a graphic animator.

Omg sorry, i'm rambling so much 😭 what i wanted to say is...

Sometimes we try so hard to swim against the current, when maybe we just need to trust the flow. Life is wise, it gives us what we need, even if that's not exactly what we want.

And i don't mean that in a "just give up and settle" kind of way. I mean sometimes we can't see the full picture. We don't know what's waiting beyond that hill until we climb it.

Don't see your choices as mistakes, but rather as opportunities, stepping stones. You made them for a reason. Even if they didn't lead exactly where you wanted, they helped you grow in ways you might not see yet.

Stuff i learned with the jobs that overworked me, that i hated, that i thought was leading nowhere and i was learning nothing... That same stuff has helped me 5 years later.

And even though i'm not working on my dream job (that i'm clicking buttons instead of drawing lol) I've discovered new tools, opportunities and strengths i didn't know i had. And that doesn't mean my dream is lost, I've just turned it into a hobby hehe

Trust your choices. Trust the paths life presents you. After all, isn't that why we're alive? What's the point in living if we already know all the answers? We're here to experience, to fall and to learn from those falls, because that's how we grow. That's what makes us human.

Keep doing what feels right, and don't be afraid to try new paths ❤️

Also, hey! If you're a graphic designer (i think i remember reading that but correct me if I'm wrong) we could even work together in the future haha. Something i recommend is trying freelancing, try taking opportunities into your own hands. Trust me, you'll learn sooo much without having to pay for more courses. The key is putting knowledge into practice.

Sorry, this was incredibly long lmao. Just wanted to send some encouragement... Be patient with yourself, don't lose hope, and always trust your choices ❤️

Wish you the best!!

Heyyyyyy!! First of all, thank you so, so much for this message — it honestly moved me. I could feel how much heart and experience you poured into it.

Your story, your struggles, and your persistence... it really resonated with me. I’m also in that phase where I’m trying so hard to stay hopeful, even when it feels like every door is closed or only slightly open to people who already have experience (in my case) or "luck".

What you said about trusting the flow instead of fighting it is really true, I'm trying to. It's hard not to feel like I'm doing something wrong, or that I made bad choices all this time, but your message reminded me that every step I take matters, even if I can’t see where it leads just yet.

I admire how you kept going despite all the setbacks. And even though you didn’t end up exactly where you imagined, you still created something stable and fulfilling — that's honestly so inspiring, that's what I hope for me as well.

And yes, you remembered right, I’m a graphic designer 😄

Freelancing still feels a bit intimidating, even bc I don't exactly know how to start but I’ve been trying to push myself slowly and learn more and more everyday.

Thank you again for taking the time to write all of that. It really meant a lot. I wish you continued success and happiness (and hopefully more creative opportunities that will show ALL your potential as an animator too). ❤️

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

Well. I'm back on the job market as of 1 week before what was supposed to be my first day.

This whole experience has just been so freaking weird from start to finish. At first it felt like complete and total hashgacha pratis. I wasn't even seriously looking for anything because it was during the time 5yo didn't have a para yet and I couldn't so much as commit to an interview. And the job title wasn't even something I would normally have clicked on. But I clicked on it solely due the organization it was for and discovered that the job title seemed to have been poorly chosen because the actual work was mostly in my actual area of expertise. And then I applied and they offered me an interview a week from the date of offer. I had absolutely no idea if I could actually commit to that interview because I had no idea when 5yo would have a para, but I did anyway, and his para ended up starting the day before the interview. Besides the job title, the other reason I wouldn't normally have applied for the job was that it wasn't full time, but extremely uncharacteristically, I somehow missed that fact and found out during the interview (mortifying but apparently other applicants were significantly worse all around). And then it was just like, this is so clearly HP, maybe it does make sense to start mornings later (and not need to find a morning sitter, which has proved near-impossible in the past) and have Friday off, technically we can afford this even though the salary cut would be a blow to my ego and it would've been nice to have more money. Fine. I'm doing it.

That was 2.5 months ago. I only had the one interview because it was a very small organization but the whole hiring process was super schlepped out. Over time I started realizing that the two people I'd be working under were regularly not on the same page as each other to an egregious extent. Person A told me that Pesach is the slowest time of year, to the point where I probably wouldn't need to take any formal time off to prep. Person B then told me that actually, most years, that's the busiest time of year. I also was told about 4 different versions of what the position entailed, ranging from it being primarily my area of expertise, to a 50/50 split between my expertise and admin, to 100% admin for the first few months and then transitioning to my expertise, to admin-dominant for at least the next few years.

I really probably should have pulled out sooner - they also didn't offer health insurance and were paying me less than I was worth even considering the reduction of hours - but again, so much of it felt like such obvious hashgacha pratis, I was frustrated but didn't really seriously reconsider accepting despite the downsides and the fact that clearly these people were a bit of a mess.

But the turning point was when I received the contract and realized I'd forgotten to discuss PTO. They were only offering me half the vacation days I had at my old job, a number lower than I'd almost ever seen in other job ads recently, and had a stipulation that no vacation could be used until after 6 months, which I have never seen in my field in 2024. I politely wrote back requesting more vacation days and explaining why I was making this request (to partially balance out the blow that was the reduction in pay from what I'd expected to make and lack of health insurance, which was 80% covered at my old job). I also asked to have the 6-month requirement waived.

Person A wrote back almost immediately saying yes, of course, no problem! We'll send a new contract. But then 3 days later I got what came across as a fairly stern email explaining that actually they could not give me additional PTO, though we could revisit that in a year, and that in fact, they were being extremely generous considering the total number of days off I had per year, which they enumerated.....and apparently, the Fridays that I was not going to be paid to work, which were already accounted for and then some by the lower salary, and which could not be used at will or in a row by definition, were supposed to balance out the lower PTO?? It was really ridiculous logic, but I was still kind of in this zen "this is all so clearly hashgacha pratis" zone, so I wrote back that I could accept the lower number of vacation days for now. They had also said we could have a Zoom meeting to make sure we were all on the same page, which seemed unnecessary to me at that point and I said so, but told them if there was something they felt still needed to be discussed I had availability at X times.

I expected this meeting to be just them reiterating that they can't give me more vacation days but we can revisit it in a year, and me being like yes ok.

That was not what it was.

It was a confrontation, in which they both backed me into the proverbial corner and declared that they were "taken aback" by the "tone" of the email in which I had tried to negotiate more vacation time.

Now. In the past, I have gotten professional feedback that I need to be more flowery with my emails because people who don't know me as well can take my matter-of-fact style as blunt/rude, even when there's nothing objectively rude about what I wrote and people who do know me wouldn't read it that way at all. But. BUT. I wrote and rewrote and edited and reedited the crap out of that email to make it nice. It was literally. just. a normal benefits negotiation email that a normal new hire should be considered perfectly justified in sending. And I graciously accepted their denial. But there I was, being forced to defend a very normal request? Asked in a very normal way?

And it was like they were taking personal offense to the fact that we had gotten to this stage and I wasn't satisfied enough with what was on the table. Person B especially. She zoomed in on specific phrases and demanded that I explain them, like why I'd said I could move forward "for now" with the number of vacation days. Because. You guys. Literally told me we will revisit the issue in a year??? And I was just acknowledging that reality??? Person B asked if I would be satisfied if nothing changed in a year, declaring that there was no way that I would get more vacation days at that point, because Person A is [fancy title] and has been there for 3 years and also only has that many days. Which. One, I notice that she didn't mention that she herself, also with a fancy title, and who has been there significantly longer, only has that many days. HUH. Two, why the f would you (you being Person A though) offer to revisit it in a year if there is no way it's going to change, and get mad at me for the crime of taking you seriously? And three, that sounds like a Person A problem? Because she is the [fancy title] and she could've negotiated more for herself upon hire and she didn't. That doesn't mean I'm not allowed to try.

Anyway, the whole experience was deeply unpleasant, and so out of left field that all I could think to do in the moment was to try to make nice, avoid burning any bridges, and process what the heck just happened afterwards. At the end of the meeting, Person B said, "Ok, the two of us are going to talk and we'll get back to you." I was floored, because what was there even to get back to me about? They wanted me to explain and defend my attempt to negotiate in all its minutiae, I had done so, and it's not like the benefits themselves were up for discussion. I told her I was confused, what were they going to get back to me about, were they reconsidering the offer of employment? Person A jumped in all, "Oh no, of course not, I think we're all good! Everything is good!" but Person B did not elaborate or concur.

I like 75% expected they were going to revoke the offer, and kind of almost hoped that they would so that I wouldn't have to make my own decision about what to make of that absolute narishkeit. But not long afterwards I received an updated offer letter waiving the 6 month requirement and that was it.

At that point I decided that I would give them 2-3 months to see if they could exceed the now very, very low bar of my expectations, and if not, begin job searching in earnest again. But I was absolutely dreading my start date.

And then came yesterday, 1 week before my first day. Now, as background, I had been told that I would normally be expected to work in person twice a week, and only very occasionally 3 days when needed. I had asked them which 2 days I should expect to come in so that I could arrange a babysitter accordingly, and they had told me that I could choose according to my needs, and just let them know. I told them Tuesday and Wednesday. They said ok. They asked whether Monday or Thursday would be preferable for the occasional 3rd day, and I said Thursday. I hired a babysitter whose hours were calculated according to the assumption that I would be commuting on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

So I get this email yesterday morning. Informing me not to come into the office Tuesday and Wednesday next week, but rather only Thursday, with no acknowledgement whatsoever that this was counter to the arrangements we had discussed and no explanation as to why it couldn't be one of my regular days. I know why, though - it's because these 2 people work with each other to arrange which days they want to be in the office each week, and I realized then that I was never going to be part of that discussion, just expected to follow their whims, despite what we had discussed before. They were not seeing me as equally worthy of consideration.

Oh, and the other part. They also informed me that in my 2nd week of work, there was an event on Wednesday starting at 5pm that they expected me to work. This event would be at a location significantly further from where I live than the office is and they apparently didn't consider it relevant to tell me until what time I would be expected to stay just yet (so, like, thanks for the heads up but how am I supposed to make arrangements, exactly?). My husband does not get home til 8:30-9 on Wednesday nights and has no flexibility to leave early, and they theoretically knew this from previous discussions. They also knew that I have little kids. But for some reason, even though I'd had the basic job offer for about 2 months prior to the event, and even though this event had definitely been planned well in advance, they didn't feel a need to let me know that they'd require me to work a weekday evening event specifically on a day of the week that it would be incredibly difficult for me to work in the evening.

Now, in a normal freaking workplace, I would simply bring up these scheduling concerns. What a thought! But these people could not handle standard benefits negotiations because any hint that I wasn't fully satisfied with current arrangements was personally offensive. So. You know.

The entire advantage of accepting a less-than-full-time job was supposed to be that I would have to worry about childcare less. But it was at this point patently obvious that these people would think absolutely nothing of making my schedule completely unpredictable on a regular basis and also would not be remotely open to pushback about it. I couldn't just put my head down and give it 2-3 months and then look for something else because I would constantly be stressing out trying to sort childcare. Which should have been the one single solitary non-problem in this position!

So I let them know that it doesn't seem like this is going to be a good fit and I regretfully have to withdraw my acceptance - I am receiving too much conflicting information about, well, literally everything, and it seems like they need someone who is able to offer a level of flexibility in their schedule that I simply do not have at this stage in my life.

I'm sure they are royally pissed and telling themselves the fairytale that they tried so hard to accommodate me and make me happy and I totally misled them about being satisfied with their offer and then screwed them over at the last minute. That's not what happened - despite everything, I was gung-ho until that unbelievably disturbing meeting - but that's the narrative they'll be bouncing off each other to avoid admitting that they totally botched a good hire.

It's been 27 hours since my "resignation" email and they haven't bothered to reply. Really regretting missing out on a workplace that is such a paragon of professionalism! 🙄🙄🙄

[database-design-tech]

The Great Data Cleanup: A Database Design Adventure

As a budding database engineer, I found myself in a situation that was both daunting and hilarious. Our company's application was running slower than a turtle in peanut butter, and no one could figure out why. That is, until I decided to take a closer look at the database design.

It all began when my boss, a stern woman with a penchant for dramatic entrances, stormed into my cubicle. "Listen up, rookie," she barked (despite the fact that I was quite experienced by this point). "The marketing team is in an uproar over the app's performance. Think you can sort this mess out?"

Challenge accepted! I cracked my knuckles, took a deep breath, and dove headfirst into the database, ready to untangle the digital spaghetti.

The schema was a sight to behold—if you were a fan of chaos, that is. Tables were crammed with redundant data, and the relationships between them made as much sense as a platypus in a tuxedo.

"Okay," I told myself, "time to unleash the power of database normalization."

First, I identified the main entities—clients, transactions, products, and so forth. Then, I dissected each entity into its basic components, ruthlessly eliminating any unnecessary duplication.

For example, the original "clients" table was a hot mess. It had fields for the client's name, address, phone number, and email, but it also inexplicably included fields for the account manager's name and contact information. Data redundancy alert!

So, I created a new "account_managers" table to store all that information, and linked the clients back to their account managers using a foreign key. Boom! Normalized.

Next, I tackled the transactions table. It was a jumble of product details, shipping info, and payment data. I split it into three distinct tables—one for the transaction header, one for the line items, and one for the shipping and payment details.

"This is starting to look promising," I thought, giving myself an imaginary high-five.

After several more rounds of table splitting and relationship building, the database was looking sleek, streamlined, and ready for action. I couldn't wait to see the results.

Sure enough, the next day, when the marketing team tested the app, it was like night and day. The pages loaded in a flash, and the users were practically singing my praises (okay, maybe not singing, but definitely less cranky).

My boss, who was not one for effusive praise, gave me a rare smile and said, "Good job, rookie. I knew you had it in you."

From that day forward, I became the go-to person for all things database-related. And you know what? I actually enjoyed the challenge. It's like solving a complex puzzle, but with a lot more coffee and SQL.

So, if you ever find yourself dealing with a sluggish app and a tangled database, don't panic. Grab a strong cup of coffee, roll up your sleeves, and dive into the normalization process. Trust me, your users (and your boss) will be eternally grateful.

Step-by-Step Guide to Database Normalization

Here's the step-by-step process I used to normalize the database and resolve the performance issues. I used an online database design tool to visualize this design. Here's what I did:

Original Clients Table:

ClientID int

ClientName varchar

ClientAddress varchar

ClientPhone varchar

ClientEmail varchar

AccountManagerName varchar

AccountManagerPhone varchar

Step 1: Separate the Account Managers information into a new table:

AccountManagers Table:

AccountManagerID int

AccountManagerName varchar

AccountManagerPhone varchar

Updated Clients Table:

ClientID int

ClientName varchar

ClientAddress varchar

ClientPhone varchar

ClientEmail varchar

AccountManagerID int

Step 2: Separate the Transactions information into a new table:

Transactions Table:

TransactionID int

ClientID int

TransactionDate date

ShippingAddress varchar

ShippingPhone varchar

PaymentMethod varchar

PaymentDetails varchar

Step 3: Separate the Transaction Line Items into a new table:

TransactionLineItems Table:

LineItemID int

TransactionID int

ProductID int

Quantity int

UnitPrice decimal

Step 4: Create a separate table for Products:

Products Table:

ProductID int

ProductName varchar

ProductDescription varchar

UnitPrice decimal

After these normalization steps, the database structure was much cleaner and more efficient. Here's how the relationships between the tables would look:

Clients --< Transactions >-- TransactionLineItems

Clients --< AccountManagers

Transactions --< Products

By separating the data into these normalized tables, we eliminated data redundancy, improved data integrity, and made the database more scalable. The application's performance should now be significantly faster, as the database can efficiently retrieve and process the data it needs.

Conclusion

After a whirlwind week of wrestling with spreadsheets and SQL queries, the database normalization project was complete. I leaned back, took a deep breath, and admired my work.

The previously chaotic mess of data had been transformed into a sleek, efficient database structure. Redundant information was a thing of the past, and the performance was snappy.

I couldn't wait to show my boss the results. As I walked into her office, she looked up with a hopeful glint in her eye.

"Well, rookie," she began, "any progress on that database issue?"

I grinned. "Absolutely. Let me show you."

I pulled up the new database schema on her screen, walking her through each step of the normalization process. Her eyes widened with every explanation.

"Incredible! I never realized database design could be so... detailed," she exclaimed.

When I finished, she leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

"Fantastic job, rookie. I knew you were the right person for this." She paused, then added, "I think this calls for a celebratory lunch. My treat. What do you say?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. As we headed out, a wave of pride and accomplishment washed over me. It had been hard work, but the payoff was worth it. Not only had I solved a critical issue for the business, but I'd also cemented my reputation as the go-to database guru.

From that day on, whenever performance issues or data management challenges cropped up, my boss would come knocking. And you know what? I didn't mind one bit. It was the perfect opportunity to flex my normalization muscles and keep that database running smoothly.

So, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation—a sluggish app, a tangled database, and a boss breathing down your neck—remember: normalization is your ally. Embrace the challenge, dive into the data, and watch your application transform into a lean, mean, performance-boosting machine.

And don't forget to ask your boss out for lunch. You've earned it!

[calmasyoghurt]

The joker out pride project.

I'm at the airport, so tired.

Anyways, Nace coming out. Also on ao3.

June 22nd, prompt 17. Coming out with a relationship.

From nace.jordan@gmail.com

To darja.jordan@icloud.si, andrej.jordan@hotmail.si

Life update

Dear mum and dad. I wish I had the courage to visit you, or even call you, but I fear that you would close the door in my face or hang up the phone. So I’m doing this over e-mail so that I at least get the chance to tell you what I have to say. I have been trying to write it in to words for an hour now, but can’t find a better way to say it than purely the way it is.

First of all, I want to say that I miss you so much. I wish we never would have had that fight. Or I wish we hadn’t needed to have it. But my point still stands, much stronger now then it did then. I’m gay. I’ve always been and will always be. Only recently have I been able to accept that about myself. My biggest wish in life is for the two of you to accept it as well.

Second of all, I want to share something that is really important to me. If you’ve been following my life through the news or social media, which I hope you have, then you know that since October, I’ve been the bass player for the band Joker Out. Joining them was the best decision I ever made, not only for all the fun concerts I get to play, but for the guy’s as well. They’re some of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and I’m so grateful that I get to call them my friends.

But that’s not the point I’m trying to make. One of the guys is extra special. His name is Jan, and is one of the guitarists. He’s the kindest, funniest and prettiest person I’ve ever met. I had been flirting with him for a few weeks, he had flirted back, and one night when we were hanging out just the two of us, he kissed me. We kissed a bit, but it didn’t go any further that night. But then a week later we went out with our friends to a bar, and afterwards he stayed at my place to not have to go all the way home. Then he stayed for all of the Saturday too, and that night, the kisses didn’t stay just kisses. I’m blushing just writing this. Anyways. It happened three more times, and after the fourth time, he asked me to be his boyfriend. I said yes. 

It makes me so incredibly happy that I get to have someone as amazing and caring as Jan in my life. It makes me so happy to be able to call him mine. If you only take one thing with you from this e-mail, then I want you to know that I’m happy. I’m so, so happy now, living the way I do. Again, I also wish you can accept me like this. I love you so much. 

Best wishes from your son,

Nace

ps. If you’ve read this entire e-mail, I can give you some other existing news that will go public tomorrow. Joker out will represent Slovenia in eurovision! Okay, bye for real now.

***

From darja.jordan@icloud.si

To nace.jordan@gmail.com, andrej.jordan@hotmail.si

Re: Life update

Nace. I want to start by saying sorry for not replying to this email when we got it. We both read it the very same day, but we couldn't come up with a decent enough response.

We also want to congratulate you and your friends for your eurovision performance. We are so proud of you for that. It also seems as if you're playing multiple festivals this summer. We wish you the best of luck with that. 

Now, to the main subject of your email. As parents, it is our obligation to love our children. We do still love you, as our son. But that doesn't mean we aren't having a difficult time accepting this whole gay thing, let alone the boyfriend. It seems as if it's becoming more common these days, so it is something that we at the very least will have to get used to seeing.

We are however not there yet. We aren't used to it yet. We might not be for a long time. But that doesn't mean we won't ever be. As a mother it is my job to try getting better in order to help my kids. I hope that we can meet sometime again, in the future. We miss you too.

Best wishes from your mum and dad. 

[imperatorrrrr]

🦉Positivity owl reporting for duty! This was sent by a friend who wants you to smile as much as you make them smile. Please feel free to respond to this ask by listing some of your happiest memories, favorite qualities about yourself, or discussing something you are super passionate about. You may send the owl to those who you feel deserve to smile (but no pressure).🦉

okay, lets do a happy memory...

I think I need a reminder that I'm a good attorney, that I'm good at my job, because work stuff currently is not going to well, so gotta pick myself up and set myself right.

I was supposed to take the bar exam in summer 2017.

I had just graduated law school and I was living on my own for the summer apartment sitting for my friend who was in California for the summer and taking care of his sixteen year old cat named Stella. Stella was the first time I had taken care of pet all by myself and she's the reason I am a "cat person". We grew to be very good friends. Look at her.

it was me and Stella against the world.

Anyway, typically, for the bar, you're doing a full two months of prep which basically involves doing at least eight hours of bar study a day. There's books, there's videos, there's courses, there's practice tests, there's lectures, its a whole thing. I don't think I even made it a full week.

And then Chester Bennington died and that was kind of breaking point for me and lots of bad things and lots of crying and breakdowns and just you know insert mental illness here, but I decided to withdraw from taking the bar that summer because there was just no way it was going to happen.

My friend Delaney came and visited me and I think he dragged me out of the apartment to go watch Baby Driver and then Andrew flew to New York for the first time in our friendship and we had many times. Many times. I got my second tattoo.

Life moved on, more times were had, road trips, weddings, birthdays, Star Wars, Diwali, ugly sweaters, a singular Devils game.

Fast forward, the next time I'm able to take the bar is February 2018.

I get to work on bar prep and I'm doing well. Like honestly I'm doing fucking great. I am following the schedule doing the work, doing the reading, watching the videos and everything. I make it a month. I clock in every day for bar prep for a month straight and then I lose steam.

But I couldn't find it in me to withdraw from taking the bar a second time, so I registered, got a hotel room for the two days I'd be taking the bar and took the damn test.

I went in knowing that I was going to fail because I'd only done half of the studying, but I took it anyway. Finished it. Got complimentary champagne from my hotel, treated myself to a fancy meal and went back home.

We get our bar results in April 2018.

Look, I am telling you. I had accepted and moved on from the fact that there was no way I was passing the fucking test. I had already warned everyone that was worth warning that hey, I'm not gonna pass. We're gonna have to do this again another time. It was all good. It was all settled.

Then, I opened the email with the bar results, and you fuckers will not believe it, but this fucker PASSED THE BAR EXAM.

When I tell you I broke down in tears. I broke down in tears. Just started sobbing.

The motherfucking point is I passed the motherfucking bar exam with only one month of motherfucking bar prep under my motherfucking belt.

I'm fucking good.

I am fucking good.

[dopaminergicaddictions]

3/15/24

12:59 a.m

Why do I still think Elise is my soulmate?

I can't turn it off. This isn't transference. This isn't obsession. This isn't some pathetic longing and idealization of her.

I've thought long and hard about it. I don't idealized her. Why? She's a mom. She has been Mia. When she did talk to me she didn't give me much of her time. I know if she was ever my girl, she would be busy. Her kids would always come first rightfully so and I'd never have an issue with it. I know that would mean she would only be able to spend limited time with me. She would have to cancel somewhat frequently. All that would have to happen is one of her kids has a stuffy nose. The school called one got sick or has lice. She can't make it to my party cause she had the kids this weekend. She was supposed to come over but her ex husband got sick and the girls had to stay at her house this weekend. I mean I can't idealize someone like that. I fully accept if she was ever my girl she would be absent to a certain degree until I met the girls they liked me and we eased me into the family slowly. I can't idealize you Elise. I want you to know that. If you were ever mine I expect your kids and your job to trump me. I expect limited time. And a lot of cancelations. I truly do not love the idealized version of you I created in my head. This is the version of you that lives in my head. You canceling and be unable to make things. It being a regular occurrence.. okay so now that that's out of the way.

Let's go into transference. We haven't been therapist/client in over a year... to be honest with you okay I found you attractive since day one. Feelings however Took time. I did have feeling for you when I was with Katie. I believe they developed around the last year before that it was attraction and a desire to know you personally as a friend.. the feelings I had for you when it could have been transference were there but were not deeply felt bc of the relationship we had. I felt them but I was able to turn them off. They existed but for the duration of our therapeutic relationship, they were basically blunted as I could not let it interfere with the relationship we had. Then we became not therapist and client, and everything that happened led to those feelings becoming very deep. By the time you asked me, "do you think someone can fall in love with someone over web cam?," I was in love with you. By June I was so in love with you I couldn't turn it off which is why things got weird... this rules out transference on my end for a reason.

Okay now let's go into obsession, obsession is defined as, "When someone is obsessed, they've lost control of their feelings about the object of their obsession. The adjective obsessed is often used to simply mean "very interested," but when someone is truly obsessed, their interest has become compulsive, and they've begun to lose control over it."

Or, obsessive love is defined as:

"1) Overwhelming attraction to one person.

2) Possessive thoughts and actions.

3) Intense preoccupation with a relationship.

4) Threatening the other person if they leave.

5) Extreme jealousy.

6) Repeated messaging via text, email, or phone calls.

7) Monitoring the other person's actions."

1) If we go over obsessive love for all intents and purposes, I wouldn't call my attraction to you overwhelming. I think you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen... however, I find many other people attractive and if I could get any of them to swipe right on me and talk to me I'd move on and stop thinking about you romantically. I'd still think you're beautiful but it would turn off. For me attraction has facets, looks and personality.. personality is very important and I know your personality and that makes you even more beautiful than your outside appearance. Idk any other woman who I find attractive that I know as a person.

2) possessive thoughts and actions? That's laughable. I don't own you. I don't even get to know you. If you were ever my girl, I'd "let" you hang out with either of your ex husbands alone all hours of the night. I'd be okay with it which is why I put let in quotation marks. You're not mine and even if you were my girl you'd never be, "mine." Women are not possession. People are not possessions. You could be mine and do you. Hang out with whoever you want. Do whatever you want. I wouldn't be allowing you. I'd be okay with it bc I trust you.

3) preoccupation with the relationship-okay I can't say I'm not preoccupied with the idea of knowing you. We met eyes Elise. There was something special there and yea, I want to find out you genuinely meant everything you said.. until I get closure or meet someone else I'm going to be somewhat preoccupied with this relationship that doesn't exist.

4) threatening the person if they leave- I don't need to write anything here. I didn't threaten you ever and I never would. I want you to be happy if we were ever together and you weren't happy I'd want you to leave me so you could be happy. I mean that genuinely.

5) extreme jealously- I'm not even jealous that I'd have to spend time with your husband... I would play on xbox live with him and get to know him. I'd break bread with him. I want you to be happy that's all I care about.

6) repeated emails/texts/etc: okay I emailed you twice. Once at 6 months, once at a year, no texts. No phone calls. I messaged you on Instagram bc I wanted to reach out to you socially. You couldn't even get a harassment case on me with the amount of times I messaged you tbh. Not that you'd do that but my point is I reached out a normal amount of times considering the circumstances. If for example we talked socially and you said I don't want to talk to you ever again, I'd ask why, and I'd ask to talk it out and then bounce out of your life. Even if you were rude and didn't provide much of an answer.

7) monitoring the person's actions: okay I watched your Instagram as a ray of hope. I did look at your fb. I'm not going to tread and lie. This is an honesty post here. Why did I do those things? I thought you had feelings for me and you were going to show up for me. Your Instagram was a ray of hope, sunshine in my dark life to be able to see through your eyes. Also I have psychosis and I convinced myself we were empaths bc your Instagram and my tumblr aligned... I decided it was coincidental and to be fair, there were a lot of them but- when I originally followed you on Instagram. I did it to support you. I did it to stay connected to you. Then the coincidences started to happen and I developed psychosis. Forgive me for this one. There will never be any more coincidences considering you blocked my Instagram and I don't watch your social media pages. Sometimes I look you up, why?

I look into your eyes and remind myself you're professionally constrained. I remind myself that I think the girl across that Webcam meant what she said.

So I went over all the things that could explain my preoccupation with you.

The only real answer here is I'm in love with you. I fell in love with the girl across the Webcam. It's not obsession. It's not transference. It's not idealization..

It's true love. Of course it's unrequited. That's okay bc I want your happiness. Even if you'll only ever be happy without me in your life.

The soulmate thing I can't turn off. Why? The coincidences. The question you asked me over Webcam. The eye contact. The way you showed an interest in the things I loved. The way you changed me into a better person. Cause you really did.

Anyways I'm trying to turn it off. I just can't yet. Idk when I will be able to but I truly want you to be happy.

[toraleistripe]

Had an interesting conversation with my VOA case worker today.

First, a little backstory. This is gonna be long, so brace yourselves if you actually bother to read this. And if you do, well, thanks. I just needed to vent about this and if you read this post, I appreciate you 💜

So I'm just putting it out there: I'm unemployed. I've never been employed, not ever in my whole life. Trying to find a job has been a real struggle for me for years now. I'm enrolled in Vocational Rehab, which is supposed to help me find employment, but they've honestly been no help at all. Not. At. ALL. I do everything I'm told to do, I go where I'm told to go, meet up with who I'm supposed to meet up with, I sign every document I'm told to sign, I jump through every single hoop they've ever placed in front of me and nothing ever gets done. I'm currently on my third job coach, who I haven't heard from since May, I emailed my VR (Vocational Rehab) case worker last week, still haven't heard back from her. Found out she's going to be out of the office until next Tuesday, so that's more waiting around before I can try to contact her AGAIN. I'm going to call her this time though, maybe I'll actually get to talk to her if I do that.

Anyway, I recently got accepted into Volunteers of America, who will also be able to hopefully help me find a job. I've met my VOA case worker, Leanne, a few times now and I really get along well with her, she's easy to talk to and seems to genuinely give a shit, y'know. So today we were talking about possible jobs I might be good for and I can't recall exactly what was said, but at some point, Leanne said, "Well I know what your dream job is-", and I cut her off real quick, saying that it's never going to happen and that I need to just give it up.

Keep in mind that my mom was also in the room with us at this time and my stomach dropped as soon as Leanne brought up my dream job. What is my dream job exactly? I want to be an actress. I want to be an actress more than anything else in this world. I've wanted to get into acting ever since I was a little kid, it's always been my #1 passion. I was part of an acting group when I was little, I absolutely LOVED it. Becoming an actress has always been something I've wanted very badly. And my mom's thoughts on the subject? She's not supportive of it at all, not one bit. Every time it's brought up, she just tells me I need to be "realistic" and once she literally said it would be "impossible" for me to become an actress. So yeah, it really crushes me that my own mother isn't supportive of my biggest dream, my #1 goal I've had for nearly my entire life.

So when the subject was brought up again today, I couldn't hold back and I burst into tears, I was practically sobbing in front of Leanne and my mom. My mom once again used her infamous "be realistic" quote, and I told her she's right, through heavy tears. And I could tell by her tone of voice that Leanne was bothered by my reaction, which really embarrassed me because I certainly didn't want her to feel bad, it's just a ME problem that I struggle to deal with and any time I'm heavily upset about something, I just cry, it's like an automatic response. I cry about shit all the time. Honestly, assume something's more wrong than usual if I'm NOT crying over something.

And here's where we get to the interesting thing she said. She said, "You know what I think is going on here. I think you're grieving. You're going through a sort of grieving process".

And that really struck a chord with me, I haven't stopped thinking about it since she said it. I asked my mom later if that made any sense to her and she said it did. And it makes sense to me too, I guess. I want to be an actress more than anything, I've never wanted anything more in my entire life. It's always been my #1 career goal. But it's not going to happen for me. It is NEVER going to happen for me, ever. It doesn't matter how much I want it, how much I yearn for it, I am never ever going to be an actress. And saying that hurts. It HURTS a LOT. Shit, I'm tearing up as I'm writing this, my throat feels tight, this really affects me deeply. And maybe Leanne's right, in a sort of way, I AM grieving. I'm mourning something I want so much, but will never have. And admitting that it's not going to happen really tears me up inside, it just really eats away at me. But at the same time, I have to get over it and move on.

I am never EVER going to be an actress. Never. And that's just something I have to live with and move on from, somehow.