#I need to go back to monitoring notes more efficiently

[zibah-ho]

oh no containment breach some of you aren’t my mutuals

in which case

If you’re a terf or an Israeli boot licker stay off my posts by way of fucking kys please and thank you :)

[sundays-lover]

stupid in love

husband!zhongli x gn!reader — fluff

synopsis: you're a talkative drunk and zhongli is in love.

content warning: reader is drunk and mentioned to have hair (lmk if i missed anything !)

notes: NOT PROOFREAD <3 ; zhongli is a wonderful lover but let's not forget that he is also canonically a menace 🫶 ; i'm writing and posting as much as i can rn bc i'll be inactive this week because of exams 😭

zhongli can't recall a time when he felt this helpless.

as the geo archon, he possesses the strength of a thousand meteors raining from the sky and has emerged victorious from numerous battles. his voice has commanded countless armies and his hands formed the towering mountains liyue is well-known for today. he is a respectable leader who can devise efficient strategies to overcome any obstacle he may face.

however, at this moment, he is not rex lapis, the god of contracts and liyue's archon. he is the simple zhongli, the funeral consultant of the wangsheng funeral parlor and, above everything, your husband.

tonight, his duty is to get you home. unfortunately for him, you don't seem to want to comply.

you notified him this morning that you and your co-workers would be going out for drinks that night to celebrate a successful business deal, with the promise that you would be monitoring how much you'll drink. while he had his doubts, he trusted that you would have a sense of rationality regardless of if you were sober or not and didn't question you further.

in hindsight, he supposes he should have enforced his doubts when he bumped into a co-worker of yours as he clocked out of work, who sounded tipsy, yet sober enough to inform him that you were currently drunk off your mind and needed help getting home.

that is exactly how he found himself trying to calm down a drunk you on the streets of liyue.

you threw yourself onto him the moment he arrived, not even bothering to bid goodnight to your acquaintances who were putting a group effort into keeping you balanced. after zhongli thanked them for finding him and wished them farewell in your stead, they took their leave. as they turn to head to their respective homes, they could hear you loudly thanking your lover for coming get you.

while the area was significantly less populated at night compared to during the day, the unusual sight of the normally collected funeral consultant struggling to bring his drunkenly rambling spouse home caught the attention of whoever was in the vicinity, causing an embarrassed blush to spread to his face which he ultimately chose to ignore.

his experience as a god and warrior never could have prepared him for this situation, he surmises.

meanwhile, you catch the look of powerlessness on his face and stifle a laugh.

“heh, you look so stupid right now~!”

zhongli gapes at you as you burst into a fit of giggles.

“my husband~ so silly~ so dumb~” your hands reach out and cup his face before he has the chance to pull back.

he merely stares at you as you sing what he wants to believe are praises in your drunken tongue. at this distance—or rather, the lack thereof—he can see your details more clearly; your hair is disheveled and eyes droopy. your gaze is unfocused yet fixated on the way his skin squishes under your thumb.

but he thinks you're beautiful nonetheless. the glow of the street lanterns frame your figure and he thinks you look akin to the radiant sun. moonlight shines down upon you and its gleam creates the illusion of you emitting a halo. he takes these as signs from the universe, reminding him to cherish you with his entire being, for they have sent him their best. he is certain that whatever celestia can offer does not hold a candle to you.

this god of stone crumbles to dust from your touch alone…

while you busy yourself with poking and pinching his cheeks.

he regains awareness of the situation and breaths a resigned sigh. you watch his face soften and shift to an expression that almost looks pleading, and you gasp loudly.

“ooh! so handsome!!!” you squeal, attracting even more onlookers. “i want to kiss you on the mouff—”

zhongli beats you to it, placing a hand behind your head and gently leaning in for a kiss as deep as his adoration for you. you think your knees would have buckled if it weren't for the arm he had wrapped around your waist. you think you hear some of the lady passersby coo at your display of romance, but the echo of your heartbeat in your ears drowns them out.

his lips move slowly against yours, savoring the flavor of the bitter remnants of alcohol mixed with the sweetness of your lips. he doesn't think he's ever tasted a flavor as divine as this.

you are dazed when he pulls away, as though bewitched. he notices and chuckles, eyes full of mirth and tenderness as they peer into yours.

he speaks up, almost breathless. “you look very…”

no, no, no! if he starts charming and complimenting you after all that, you might think you’ll consider marrying him for a second time—

“...stupid right now, my love.”

you blink once. twice.

then you burst.

“you…!”

you thrash in his hold and bury your face in his chest, feeling a bashful warmth rise to your face for the first time tonight.

“you can't pull that on me! so mean…” you mumble into the lapel of his coat.

he chuckles again, more heartily this time. ugh, darn that handsome laugh…

“i apologize, my love.” you sense a teasing lilt, but you can tell he's sincerely coaxing you. a hand remains on the back of your head as you lean against him, fingers softly running through the strands of your hair.

zhongli remains that way, patiently waiting for your emotions to settle. when he hears you meekly mutter his name, he turns to you in his hold.

“yes, dearest?”

“...let's go home, please?”

he mentally sighs in relief. externally, he calmly adheres to your request with a nod. “then we shall head home at once.”

he pulls away to position you so that you are held onto his arm as he leads you home, acting as your support while you keep yourself upright.

the walk home is neither dull nor quiet as you relentlessly babble about any and every topic that you can think of. you sway and stumble over the rocky pavement, but your incredibly attentive husband would never let you fall. frankly, he'd be more than happy to carry you if you asked.

a thought briefly flashes in his mind concerning how he's going to peacefully get you washed up and tucked in bed, but one look at you chatting away into the night and he supposes that he can afford to save those worries for after arriving home. until then, he entertains your mindless chatters with hums of acknowledgement and short quips as you walk arm in arm.

[erik-even-wordier]

Here’s some absolute bulls**t DOGE f**kery which isn’t getting much play, if any, from news media. But it certainly should

Posted to Facebook by Len Nelson on February 26, 2025.

Here’s some absolute bulls**t DOGE f**kery which isn’t getting much play, if any, from news media. But it certainly should.

I’ll preface it by reminding you that DOGE stands for “Department of Government Efficiency.” Keep that last word, “efficiency,” in mind.

On Monday, federal employees who hold a government credit card, a normal and mundane tool of their jobs so they can purchase office supplies, gas for government vehicles, travel expenses or whatever else might be an essential part of doing their work, discovered that the available credit limits for the cards assigned to them were suddenly set at $1. Yes, ONE DOLLAR.

A very close acquaintance of mine is one of them. She has two government issued credit cards, one which she is authorized to use for day to day job-related purchases and the other for when she is required to travel for work. She is also authorized to use a third card, a “fleet card” for when she has to fill up her agency’s work trucks or other equipment. But, of course, you can’t pay for staples, ball point pens or gasoline when anything costing more than a dollar would result in the card being declined, all thanks to convicted felon, adjudicated fraudster and rapist Donald Trump and his unelected and unaccountable billionaire oligarch co-president and top campaign donor, Elon Musk.

I will note here that she and every other federal employee who is authorized to use the cards has to go through specific training on proper uses and procedures for them. It’s literally mandated as a condition of employment. The expenses for which they use the cards is documented, monitored and reviewed by supervisors and agency accountants who understand the nature of their work and the items they are required to purchase in order to do it. Elon Musk doesn’t have any experience or knowledge in such matters, even as he pretends it.

When I asked her just how these yahoos with DOGE expect government workers to function according to their job descriptions under the new restrictions, she said the “new guidance” from her agency, via DOGE directive, is that they can still use the cards for purchases…but only with specific prior approval. So now, every purchase in excess of one dollar (which is literally all of them), even filling up the work truck, must get approved by a district supervisor. Not approval to, say, go ahead and fill up several times this week as needed, but every single time they do so. Apparently the credit limit will then be increased to cover that one purchase and then will reset to one dollar. DOGE has also apparently created some sort of magic list somewhere which contains the names of supervisors who can approve the purchases. They, and only they, can give the okay.

Now, in my close acquaintance’s case, the district supervisor under which she works is the boss for an area which covers a pretty large swath of central, western and southwestern Wisconsin. As the insanely stupid DOGE directive went into effect, she was traveling to one of the district’s field offices for meetings when she got the directive. She had to scramble to figure out how to even get back home because the DOGE “experts” mistakenly left her off the magic list. So, she was literally stranded unless she wanted to use her own money for work expenses and then pray that somehow she would be reimbursed, not an easy task because government expense reimbursement procedures are cumbersome. That’s why workers have the credit cards in the first place.

Now, this district director has to specifically approve every individual use of the agency’s employee credit cards for every one of the dozens upon dozens of employees working in that district. Because, sure, a district director really needs to be on the phone or laptop several times each hour just responding to and arranging employee requests to buy gas for the work truck, bar oil for the chainsaw or even a package of butt wipe or disinfectant spray for the office bathrooms.

The abject idiocy of it is off the charts. I heard about it from someone close to me but I also read an account of it from a health care worker at the Veterans Administration. She complained that she went to buy supplies for the clinic at which she works, things like bandages, tape and other medical supplies, only to find her government card had suddenly and without notice been reduced to an available credit limit of one singular United States of WTF dollar.

Sorry, honorably discharged military veteran seeking care from the VA. Can you just hold back the bleeding with your hand while we wait and wait and wait to get approval from someone up the chain of command who might be on the magic DOGE list in order to replenish our bandage supply? Thanks, soldier. Then tack on a thousand or so indiscriminate firings of VA workers, including veterans employed in public service to other veterans. But sure, Republicans who support Trump and Musk, tell us more about how much you love and support our vets, right?

So, in the name of “government efficiency,” Musk and DOGE have instead injected absolute chaos into even the simplest of government operations and are forcing our dedicated civil service workers to have to perform their jobs in the most inefficient way that one could design or even imagine. But Trump says Musk is a “genius” when it comes to making government work better.

This isn’t “genius.” It sure as hell isn’t “efficiency.” It’s clearly purposed incompetence by design.

Well, I need no prior approval from anyone in order to say, “F**k these corrupt and malevolent dips**ts.”

[overseerscunt]

For reasons beyond my comprehension, Scout has taken it upon himself to create this blog on my behalf. I would greatly appreciate it if you would grant it your attention, if only to satisfy his persistent insistence. Your consideration is sincerely appreciated.

•

Admin note:

This is a blog made for an Ms Pauling OC I have named “Overseer”. Her actual name is Olivia Medrea, but go ahead and enjoy this. This is going to give an outline of what you are to expect on this blog.

•

On this blog, you can expect:

Lore

Replies to asks

And much more

•

Overseer’s Lore & More

•

Overseer – The Administrator’s Shadow

•Full Name: Olivia Medrea

•Alias: Overseer

•Occupation: Intelligence Officer, Internal Affairs Specialist

•Affiliation: Reliable Excavation & Demolition (RED)

Background

Little is known about the origins of the woman known only as Overseer. She emerged within RED’s internal structure as an enigma—always present yet rarely acknowledged. While Miss Pauling serves as the Administrator’s outward representative, handling mercenary assignments and cleanup, Overseer operates in the shadows, ensuring RED’s operations remain intact from within. She is not a field agent but an intelligence officer, her role extending beyond logistics into surveillance, counter-espionage, and quiet eliminations.

The Administrator herself handpicked Overseer during a time of internal instability, assigning her the task of monitoring not only the mercenaries but also Miss Pauling—a subtle but undeniable sign that Helen does not trust anyone implicitly. Overseer does not issue orders. She merely ensures they are followed.

Personality & Demeanor

Where Miss Pauling balances efficiency with an occasional flicker of personal warmth, Overseer is cold, methodical, and unflinchingly professional. She speaks in measured tones, rarely raises her voice, and never acts out of emotion. Her presence alone is often enough to silence a room, not because she demands attention, but because people instinctively know that she is always watching.

She operates under a strict code:

Loyalty is earned, not assumed.

Failure is an opportunity to correct, but repeated failure is a liability.

Information is the true currency of war.

Duties & Role

Overseer’s job is to ensure absolute operational efficiency. This means identifying weak links—whether they be compromised assets, disloyal agents, or inefficient strategies—and dealing with them accordingly. If a mission fails, she is there to determine why. If a mercenary steps out of line, she ensures they are brought back in—willingly or otherwise.

Unlike Miss Pauling, who directly interacts with the mercenaries to coordinate missions and cleanup efforts, Overseer works behind the scenes, communicating through encrypted messages, subtle directives, and, when necessary, face-to-face meetings that are more akin to interrogations.

She does not carry a weapon openly, but those who have been in her presence for too long tend to disappear.

Relationship with Miss Pauling & the mercenaries

Despite technically sharing a similar rank, there is a quiet tension between Overseer and Miss Pauling. The latter is used to being the Administrator’s most trusted agent, but Overseer’s very presence suggests otherwise. While they work together when necessary, their interactions are tinged with unspoken scrutiny—each assessing the other for weakness.

Miss Pauling is well aware that should she ever fall out of favor with the Administrator, it will be Overseer who comes to handle it.

Overseer’s interactions with the Team Fortress 2 mercenaries would be clinical, calculated, and unsettlingly precise. Unlike Miss Pauling, who has a level of reluctant familiarity with them, Overseer sees them purely as assets—useful, flawed, and ultimately expendable. Her approach varies depending on each mercenary’s personality, strengths, and weaknesses.

Interactions with each mercenary:

Scout – An Amusing but Predictable Distraction

Scout’s bravado and incessant need for validation would be met with cold indifference. Where Miss Pauling might occasionally indulge his flirtations with sarcasm, Overseer wouldn’t even acknowledge them. This would frustrate Scout immensely—her lack of reaction making him double down, trying harder and harder to get a rise out of her.

However, Overseer would recognize his usefulness. His speed makes him an excellent courier, and his tendency to eavesdrop means he often overhears valuable information. If she needs something delivered quickly—or a rumor to spread—she might manipulate him into doing so without him even realizing it.

How She Deals with Him:

Ignores his attempts at flirting.

Only speaks to him when giving direct orders.

Occasionally plants misinformation, knowing he’ll gossip.

Soldier – A Useful Weapon, but Nothing More

Overseer respects Soldier’s unwavering obedience—but only to a point. His blind devotion to orders makes him easy to manipulate, yet his unpredictability means he is also a liability. While Miss Pauling handles him with patience and the occasional lie, Overseer would be far more direct.

She does not engage with his delusions, nor does she entertain his theatrics. If she gives him an order, it is brief and efficient. If he fails to follow it, she does not scold him—she simply ensures someone else is assigned to correct him.

How She Deals with Him:

Issues clear, simple orders to ensure compliance.

Does not engage in his patriotic fantasies.

If he becomes problematic, she quietly assigns another mercenary to “handle” him.

Pyro – An Uncontrollable Variable

Overseer does not attempt to understand Pyro, nor does she see any reason to try. In her mind, Pyro is a living weapon—a force of destruction to be aimed when necessary. She does not speak to them unless absolutely required, and when she does, her voice is devoid of any warmth or fear.

Unlike the other mercenaries, Pyro does not react to social pressure, intimidation, or reason. This makes them unpredictable, which in turn makes them a liability. Overseer watches Pyro carefully, always keeping a mental note of where they are, what they are doing, and how easy it would be to neutralize them if needed.

How She Deals with Them:

Gives them simple, direct orders when necessary.

Keeps her distance and never lets her guard down.

Has contingencies in place should they become uncontrollable.

Demoman – A Dangerous Asset with a Weakness

Demoman is competent, intelligent, and deadly—when he’s sober. Overseer recognizes his potential, but also his greatest flaw: his dependence on alcohol. Unlike Miss Pauling, who might show some level of concern, Overseer sees his drinking problem as a control mechanism.

If she ever needed him fully functional, she’d ensure his supply was cut off. If she needed him pliable, she’d make sure he had more than enough. He is valuable, but he is also vulnerable, and Overseer knows how to exploit weaknesses.

How She Deals with Him:

Uses his reliance on alcohol to manipulate him.

Acknowledges his competence but never praises him.

Would not hesitate to have him “dealt with” if he became a liability.

Heavy – A Potential Threat, but Predictable

Heavy is strong, intelligent in his own way, and deeply loyal to those he cares about. This makes him both an asset and a risk. Overseer is careful around him, speaking with deliberate neutrality—never threatening, never provoking. She knows that if he ever considered her an enemy, she would have little chance of stopping him directly.

Instead, she would rely on subtlety. Heavy values family and camaraderie, so she would use those against him if necessary. She does not fear Heavy, but she respects the danger he poses.

How She Deals with Him:

Speaks to him in a neutral, respectful manner.

Avoids direct confrontation.

Keeps an eye on those he cares about, knowing they are his weak points.

Engineer – One of the Few She Respects

Engineer is one of the few mercenaries Overseer considers genuinely intelligent. His mind is valuable, and he is not as reckless as the others. Because of this, she treats him with a level of quiet respect—not friendliness, but a recognition of his usefulness.

Unlike Miss Pauling, who might engage with Engineer casually, Overseer keeps their interactions strictly professional. However, if there is anyone among the mercenaries she would consider worth listening to, it would be him.

How She Deals with Him:

Keeps interactions brief but professional.

Respects his intelligence and avoids unnecessary conflict.

If she ever needed something discreetly built or destroyed, he would be her first choice.

Medic – An Unsettling Yet Useful Wildcard

Overseer finds Medic fascinating in the way one might observe a venomous snake. He is unpredictable, amoral, and completely without fear—qualities that make him both useful and extremely dangerous. She does not attempt to control him directly, as she knows he would resist out of sheer spite.

Instead, she lets him think he is free, subtly guiding him toward outcomes that benefit RED. She does not threaten him, nor does she attempt to intimidate him. She simply ensures that when RED needs something from him, it is in his best interest to comply.

How She Deals with Him:

Never threatens him directly, knowing he would enjoy it.

Manipulates him through incentives rather than control.

Keeps a very close eye on his experiments, ensuring they do not threaten RED’s stability.

Sniper – A Professional to Be Watched

Sniper and Overseer share similar traits: quiet, calculating, and detached. However, Sniper’s disdain for authority makes him someone to monitor carefully. He follows orders because they align with his skill set, not because he feels any real loyalty to RED.

Overseer knows that if Sniper ever decided to walk away, there would be little stopping him. Because of this, she ensures that he never has a reason to turn his rifle on RED. Whether through financial incentives, subtle manipulation, or keeping him just suspicious enough to stay compliant, she makes sure he remains an asset.

How She Deals with Him:

Minimal interaction, as she knows he prefers solitude.

Ensures RED remains his best option so he does not defect.

Always watches him for signs of disloyalty.

Spy – The Untrustable Variable

Out of all the mercs, Spy is the one Overseer trusts the least, and that’s saying something considering her general skepticism toward the whole team. She finds his constant evasiveness and smirking charm tiring at best and infuriating at worst. Unlike the others, who she can read and anticipate with relative ease, Spy is a wildcard—too slippery to pin down, too self-contained to fully analyze. That unsettles her, and she hates being unsettled.

Despite that, she respects his efficiency and intellect. He gets the job done, and when he does it her way (quietly, cleanly, and on schedule), she lets him be. She never micromanages him like Scout or lectures him like she might with Demo or Soldier—but she keeps detailed files on him, updated obsessively, and tracks his movements more than anyone else’s. She’s not paranoid. She’s prepared.

Spy, in turn, finds her fascinating in that cold, clinical way of his. He enjoys prodding her limits, seeing what gets under her skin. He’s one of the only mercs who knows how to piss her off on purpose—and sometimes does it just to see her crack. But underneath all that, there’s mutual recognition: two people who live behind masks, both playing games with truth and control.

They’ll never be friends, and Overseer wouldn’t have it any other way. But there’s a kind of tense detente between them—one that could shatter with the wrong move.

How She Deals with Him:

Overseer doesn’t bother trying to tame Spy. She knows better than to expect honesty or transparency from him, so she works around him like one might navigate a minefield: carefully, with contingencies in place.

She never gives him the full picture. When briefing the team, Spy only gets the details he needs, never the big picture. Not because she thinks he’ll sabotage it—she just knows he’s the type to leverage information for his own ends, even if those ends aren’t malicious.

She builds systems that expect his sneakiness. Surveillance is doubled when he’s not in the room. Access codes change regularly. Even the other mercs are occasionally tested against counter-espionage tactics she’s designed to catch someone like him slipping.

She uses reverse psychology and indirect pressure. Spy is resistant to direct orders, so Overseer doesn’t bother with them. Instead, she makes him think something’s his idea. Subtle praise, offhand remarks about “holes in security” or “weak spots” just begging to be infiltrated—he takes the bait more often than he’d admit.

She keeps him useful, so he stays invested. Spy hates being underestimated, so she assigns him the kind of delicate missions that stroke his ego while serving her purpose—blackmail, document retrieval, internal sabotage. If he feels essential, he’s less likely to drift.

She never lets him see her flinch. No matter what he digs up, what he implies, or how close he gets to her own secrets, Overseer keeps her expression and posture locked down. If he ever thinks he has leverage, she’ll already have two ways to burn it before it matters.

Final Notes

Overseer does not see the mercenaries as comrades, friends, or even people—she sees them as resources. Some are more valuable than others, and some require more careful handling, but in the end, they are all expendable in her eyes.

While Miss Pauling engages with them on a more personal level, Overseer remains detached, speaking only when necessary, issuing directives without emotion, and ensuring that no one—mercenary or otherwise—threatens RED’s stability.

Conclusion

Overseer is not a leader, nor is she a soldier. She is a function of control—a safeguard installed by the Administrator to ensure nothing and no one threatens RED’s stability. Some whisper that she is a contingency plan in human form, a failsafe designed to act should the Administrator’s grip begin to slip.

The truth? Only Overseer knows, and she is not in the habit of sharing secrets.

[darlingdekarios]

open.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 1,794 content: Efficient Man x f!reader, if you're asking why I wrote smut for a character with one minute of screentime the answer is ETHAN HAWKE WITH A PONYTAIL, plot what plot?, smut [oral - giving, rough], kink(s) [spit, praise, hair pulling]

his favorite thing about you is your willingness to follow instructions.

Eagerness fluttered in your stomach at the sight of a familiar car already parked outside when you returned home from a mid-afternoon trek to the market. He was seldom home at a reasonable hour, his returns to your bed illuminated by moonlight. A smile pulled at your lips as you quickened your pace to get inside faster, greeted with the scent of lit candles. 

Ever thoughtful. Ever the one to ensure every detail was perfect.

“Hi, honey!” you called in the doorway, kicking your shoes off before making your way into the kitchen. You dropped the bags you carried on the kitchen island before making your way to the back room – his office – where you knew he’d wait. “You’re home early.”

“Not much on the agenda today,” he replied, not looking up from whatever page was open on the desktop in front of him. He had been mussing his hair – several strands had broken free of elastic and fell across his face. While appreciating his features you took note of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as well – he was tense. 

“But still not a good day, darling?” you questioned carefully, wanting to let him know you cared but not wanting to pester. His eyes finally glanced toward you, his body language relaxing just slightly – he was still in a nice, light suit from work. He regarded you carefully, taking in the sight of you in a light blue dress that matched him – you’d quickly learned he loved the aesthetic of a matching pair – before motioning for you to walk over to him. 

“Nothing my special girl can’t fix,” he purred, returning his eyes to the screen. You joined him eagerly, sitting on the desk to the side of the monitor so you didn’t block him. His eyes sought you again, taking in the light smile that covered your features. A smile of his own fell on his lips.

“I was going to make your favorite dinner tonight,” you offered, unable to resist reaching forward to run your hand along his arm slowly. You immediately wished he had changed into something more casual, wanting to feel his skin beneath yours. Luckily, he couldn’t resist you just as much, one of his hands lazily resting on your thigh. 

Even that was enough to send a flood of heat to your core, a shiver running through your spine. He had you wrapped around his finger. 

“How sweet,” he drawled, turning his head to drag his eyes up your body slowly – analytically – as his fingers ghosted over the inside of your thigh. “Why don’t you start by giving me a kiss?”

Your eyes sparkled with the reflection of the screen beside you as you leaned forward to brush the tip of your nose against his. “Anything you need.”

He started to huff out impatiently before you quieted his complaint, pressing your lips to his in a heavy kiss. He chuckled against your lips before returning your kiss, a leisurely sweep of his hand up your inner thigh causing a rush of heat to flood through you. The kiss became messy then – tongues eagerly swirling together, teeth occasionally clashing, lips crushed together with bruising weight. 

He collected himself quickly, removing you from the kiss with a quick flash of a smile and nip at your bottom lip while you whimpered at the loss of him. He leaned back in his chair, reaching behind his head to remove his hair from the elastic, watching your expression as his hair fell around his face. Another smile – so smug – flashed quickly before he returned his attention to the screen in front of him. 

“You’ll have to be patient. I still have work to do,” he stated in a voice much lower than normal. He knew the kiss was enough to have you needy and, to be truthful, it amused him that you’d undoubtedly pout at the loss. You held back a whimper, biting at your bottom lip lightly for a moment before lazily nodding your head. You moved to abandon the desk and return to the kitchen, but his hand returned to the top of your thigh, pressing downward to push you back against the desk. “I didn’t say leave.”

Another smile lit up your face, eyes locked on his face in quiet appreciation. You ran your eyes down him slowly to appreciate the striped suit, nearly letting out a quiet moan at the sight of the bulge that had formed in his pants. He caught your leering eyes, tutting at you quietly with a subtle shake to his head. 

“But you can’t wait, can you? Just so needy,” he purred, motioning you forward again without so much as glancing at you. You rushed at the chance, moving to press another kiss to his lips, tongue licking against the seam immediately. He simply chuckled at you, grasping your chin between his index and thumb to control your movements. Tilting your head back, he merely glanced at you quickly before flashing a self-satisfied smirk. “Open.”

He gave your chin a light tug, nodding in approval as your mouth fell open. He turned to face you fully, leaning forward to spit into your mouth, leering at the liquid resting on your tongue for a moment. Your pupils were blown wide as you waited for further instruction, hips wiggling against the desk – the pressure building at your core becoming too much without some friction. He closed your mouth and you swallowed, immediately keening at the proud look that flashed across his face. 

“More,” you whined, pulling another quiet laugh from his chest. You could never decide if you hated or loved how amused he was by your desperation for him. Right now, you didn’t care. He opened his mouth to correct you, but you continued before he could speak. “Please.”

“Hmm,” he mused, eyes flashing toward you again. He took in the sight of your swollen and slightly parted lips, eyes full of desire and decided to give into you – just a enough to satiate you while he finished his work. He reached down to work his pants and underwear down his legs, allowing them to pool on the floor before sliding his chair backward. “Knees, pretty girl.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You removed yourself from the desk – almost embarrassingly quick – sinking to your knees in front of him and running your hands down the tops of his thighs.

He fisted his cock as his eyes lingered on you now, soaking in how your eyes drank in the sight of him touching himself. With another smirk he stroked himself lightly, groaning into his own touch as you planted a kiss to each of his thighs.

“Open.”

The simple instruction was resolute as he slid his other hand to the back of your head to guide you forward, groaning when you opted to run your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock slowly. He held your eye contact as you swirled your tongue around the velvet head of his cock, licking up the precum he’d already leaked with an appreciative hum, the vibrations making his hips involuntarily buck toward you despite his usual level of self-control. 

You took more of his cock into your mouth then, swallowing him inch by inch as one of your hands came up to fondle his balls gently. “Good girl,” he groaned out slowly, lacing his fingers into your hair to guide you to take more of his length. When the tip notched against the back of your throat and caused you to gag slightly, tears welled in the corners of your eyes – but you only flicked your tongue around him, accepting his length into your throat best you could. “That’s it. Gagging but still taking me like the sweet girl you are.”

You moaned around his length, causing him to buck his hips again and force his cock against the back of your throat again, causing you to gag and tears to officially spill down your cheeks, drool dribbling down your chin already. He returned his gaze to the computer after appreciating the sight of you becoming a mess for him, further relaxing into his chair as you started to bob your head up and down his length.

You continued your efforts on his cock until you needed to break free for air, replacing your mouth with nimble fingers to stroke his length as you ran your tongue to his balls, sucking them each gently – knowing exactly what the action would do to him. His eyes rolled back barely as an elongated groan rumbled in his chest, his fingers gripping your hair again.

“Fuck, princess,” he drawled, giving your hair a light tug to encourage you upward again. “Open,” he instructed in a breathy, desperate tone, his own needs pulling his attention away from his work now. He stood now, knocking his chair back as he pushed his cock back into your mouth with a slow thrust of his hips – likely the last slow thrust he’d offer. His cock hit the back of your throat again, harder this time now that he had taken full control, causing you to gag and sputter around him. He reached his free hand to brush over your cheek, wiping one of the tears that ran along the makeup smeared skin. “That’s my good girl. You can take it.”

And you did. He relentlessly sought his release then, groaning and grunting as he fucked your mouth, forcing your head down on his cock occasionally for you to deep throat him and he could sing your praises – telling you how good your throat felt and how pretty you looked on your knees for him. It wasn’t long before his thrusts started to falter and become erratic, his length throbbing in your mouth as his balls began to tighten in your hand. 

You pointedly took him as far down your throat as you could, giving a squeeze with your hand to signal him forward. He simply nodded as curses fell from his lips, his cock pulsing as he shot his release down your throat, groaning as you swallowed his entire release eagerly. When he pulled his cock from your mouth you licked a remaining drop that was leaking from him, knowing he’d appreciate your insistence not to be wasteful. Just as expected, he gazed upon you reverently as you savored every drop.

“Now,” he breathed out, readjusting his pants and underwear before returning to his seat. He took hold of one of your hands, raising it to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles several times before continuing. “Sit on the desk and fuck yourself with your fingers while I finish work. I’ll take care of you when I’m done.”

masterlist.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Misconduct Chapter 2

2.6k For now this chapter is just needed information. The meeting between Tseng and Genesis. Over the next week I'll be adding a couple of other chapters.

“You’re late.”

It appears as though Genesis is already grating at Tseng’s nerves. The expression crossing Tseng’s features made it known he was far less than pleased by Genesis’ punctuality. Well lack thereof. The way Genesis sauntered in the room as though he had not a concern in the world. Sipping on a bottle of Banora White juice, truly not a care in the world. His eyes scanned across the room before meeting Tseng’s gaze. “At the very least, Tseng, you could have pulled a seat up for me.”

“I expect everyone who works under me to be punctual. There are no exceptions. Especially those I’m doing a favor for.” Tseng’s voice calm, and emphasized the ‘favor’ portion of his statement. He didn’t expect working with Genesis to be easy. Tseng knows, fully, how difficult working with Genesis could be. There wasn’t much of a choice after Rufus stated outright, he only wanted Tseng indirectly working on this assignment from here on out. It was impossible to take him away from this mission with the amount of information he’s gathered over the years. Rufus merely thought Tseng’s skills could be used in a more efficient manner, or so he claimed.

Wheeling one of the chairs from the desk in the center of the office, setting it in front of Tseng’s desk. As Genesis took his seat, setting his drink on the desk now before him, crossing his legs and leaning back in his seat as he regarded Tseng. “It was five minutes. Is there no grace period around here?”

Tseng genuinely struggled to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. Having his own rather rowdy crew to deal with, now the addition of Genesis. They had no choice but to rely on someone else, the other Turks failing to cover nearly the amount of ground in which Tseng was able to. Not even coming close, something Tseng couldn’t quite comprehend. In parallel it was completely reasonable, it took a special kind of skill to get close to their target. “There’s no such thing as a grace period in our line of work. If you’re not early, you are late. Even a few seconds can determine if you will succeed or fail.” A small smirk gracing Tseng’s face, “I don’t think I need to go into too much detail. You’ll hear all of this during your safety training.”

The smugness in Genesis’ features faltered for a moment, the jab at, what he felt like, was his pride immediately sparking irritation within him. “What role do you want me to play in your childish schemes? It looks like a desperate move to have an outsider do your work.” Genesis’ mind was filled with questions regarding why he had to pair up with the Turks. They’ve reached out to SOLDIER before for assistance on plenty of missions, but nothing long term.

Pulling out a rather large binder, setting it down before Genesis. “There’s a lot, so try to follow along the best you can.” Standing up, Tseng walks over to the wall mounted monitor behind his desk. Powering it on, the screen illuminates with a blue hue before transitioning to a powerpoint like screen, various charts appear spread about, “This is a quick overview of the sudden spike in crime through sectors one through three. Mostly violence and drug related crimes. Both seem to be going hand and hand as most of the perpetrators that have been brought in display similar symptoms that are causing them to lash out. After questioning many of them we found out they appear to be coming from a similar source, though we are positive there is a far larger source.” Using the remote to bring a new slide into view, a series of buildings. By the appearance of the storefront it was a small franchise, specializing in herbal remedies. A map, in the bottom left corner of the monitor, pinpointing the locations of each store. Noting that they franchise started with a store in sector three nearly five years ago. With two more locations opening up earlier in the year.

Putting two and two together, Genesis pieces together the correlation of the conversation at hand and the images of the businesses “Not to criticize your, oh so wonderfully structured government, but a ‘herbal supply’ does sound a bit obvious. So is it that surprising?” Genesis couldn’t resist his urge to comment, the very concept throwing red flags. Images of the inside of the store showed a very clean and organized environment, products placed neatly in glass cases on the side of each wall with a few shelves in the middle of the floor. Not a very large place at all, each store having a similar layout to another. “The decorations kind of scream ‘drugs’ may I add.”

Tseng could do without the interruptions but he couldn’t deny that Genesis was right. For the past half year they’ve taken to regularly sending in health inspectors which require testing of the product being sold. Unless the inspectors were in on whatever plans this franchise had, Tseng would assume they were innocent. However, that couldn’t be the case. “It is just a front, a way for them to do business discreetly. So far we don’t have any physical proof that these stores are truly attached to the spike in crime, they do a good job at keeping it all under wraps. We do, however, have a crack in their foundation. Not a very large one, but if you can get through to them, you might have a solid lead.”

As the slide transitioned Genesis couldn’t help the coy smile playing on his lips as he examined the image of you on the screen. A cheeky mugshot, smiling proudly as if you just won the jackpot. “This must be our little criminal. That is certainly a shame,” his eyes following along the screen, taking note of your preexisting criminal record. Scanning over the portion highlighting your record. “Violent little thing.” Noting the numerous assault related offenses. Another charge for distributing illegal substances along with weapon violations. “Certainly not an upstanding citizen of Midgar. You didn’t think to lock them away by now?”

“(y/n) (l/n). They have a way with Shinra’s legal system. Though, we keep rather close tabs on them due to her past affiliations in the slums, namely, Don Corneo.” Tseng, motioning to the binder that was set in front of Genesis. “Everything you need to know about their past is heavily documented. You need to be well informed with who you will be dealing with, so I suggest you do a bit of studying. They have a tendency to be incredibly elusive and have a persuasive way of talking or guiding people that are investigating them to redirect their attention elsewhere. Their mannerisms are also documented, you need to know exactly what to look for when you two speak. More than likely will resort to being deceitful within seconds, very guarded.”

“You know Tseng, if you’re already so knowledgeable on this case,” Genesis states matter of factly, pausing a moment before saying what’s on his mind. He’s certain none of the other Turks would be efficient enough to document so much detail about anyone or anything, “Why aren’t you covering it if you’re already so deeply acquainted?”

A question that makes Tseng visibly bristle, his body tensing at the intrusive question, otherwise giving away no indication that he was bothered. “I’m needed for more important tasks, I will still be working on this case. Albeit it’s from a distance, I’ll be your assistance. This task cannot be done by you alone. It will take a team effort. Though we could have tried resorting to our other Turks, they’re familiar with them and won’t cooperate. Someone else needs to get as close to them as I did. While not a perfect fit, you should do.”

While a little outdated, the information displayed had your last known address and pictures of the outside of the residence. Every entrance and window was detailed, down to how they opened. Images of your daily driver and the numerous license plates you were caught using appearing under the photo of your car. A mild look of surprise crossing Genesis’ features, his voice mirroring his disbelief. “I see this car every other morning. If they don’t live near me, they certainly frequent the area a lot.”

“Are you certain it’s the same car?”

“Drives like a total asshole? Unbearably loud motor, smells like it gives off more pollution than the reactors? Will nearly kill anyone just to be stuck at the red light with us?”

“Sounds about right.” Tseng can’t help the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. You were always a rowdy one, it didn’t matter what you were doing. Your fiery personality displays in every action you perform. “Next time you see this car, I want you to trail it. Keep a healthy distance, you have to remain undetectable. They will catch on pretty fast, if your presence is detected. If they opt to evade, you let it happen. You’ll be a new face to them, and that should instill a level of paranoia within their mind. That’s not what we want, not yet anyways.” Tseng knows all too well how you operate, this is why he makes this request. “They don’t frequent the same location regularly, always on a randomized schedule. Just a tactic used to throw anyone off. They have a typical day to day routine, each activity will swap times each day. I want you to find out if they’ve added anything new to their routine.”

Genesis can’t help the frown taking place on his face. Following you wouldn’t be a problem. Using his personal vehicle for work was a problem, especially putting one of his prized possessions at risk. Being a man of finer taste Genesis went out of his way to make sure his car was one of a kind. “Do I get a company car for this?”

Tseng truly didn’t want to entertain this question, yet he had to make it clear to Genesis that any order was to be fulfilled. No matter the circumstance, “You could be riding a bicycle and I fully expect you to pursue them. I will supply you with anything I see fit.” In short, it wasn’t a no. There wasn’t a need to change vehicles just yet. “Even seeing a new vehicle in their usual commute has caused them to change routes in the past. If you tip them off, we’ll discuss it.”

As Genesis flips through the binder of information, it seems like all of the information on you has been very well documented. The data goes as deep as your childhood. All of your previous addresses logged into a list, the numerous places they could find you in the slums, all of your associates and family members. The pages highlighting your time in Wall Market were the lengthiest. Starting out your path of self destruction with that area at fifteen. It was almost odd to Genesis how Shinra felt the need to monitor you so closely rather than arresting you and charging you properly for everything you’ve done. Maybe an inside source, thinking back to Tseng’s comment on how you ‘have a way with Shinra’s legal system.’

Allowing Genesis time to skim over your file. Tseng watches his face go through a small flurry of emotions. Mostly Genesis raising an eyebrow here and there, nodding his head and giving a disapproving grunt as he continued reading more about you.

It made sense to Genesis now, dealing with you truly was the punishment. While in his eyes he immediately saw a criminal that probably didn’t have a thought in their head, you were almost an expert when it came to organized crime. For the last two years it seems you haven’t been up to any trouble, nothing more than boring day to day data taken down. Your current employment at “Gaia's Elixir” herbal supply being one of the first jobs listed since your teenage years, starting around the same date the location in sector two opened. It makes sense to assume you were tied into these strange occurrences with the occupants of Midgar and the timing of your presence at your, for lack of better words, job. Your past heavily inclining you would continue your previous actions. Finally asking the question Genesis dreaded the most, uttering out in a resigned tone as he leaned back into his seat. “What do you need me to do?”

Tseng, reclaiming his seat across from Genesis, using one of the arm rests to prop his chin in his hand while giving a thoughtful look before straightening his posture. “I think it would be best to befriend them first. They’re more willing to do so if the person they would be acquainted with can do something for them. Your high rank within Shinra for example, something that could be taken advantage of. In theory you could help them get away with plenty of unlawful acts. I suggest meeting them in as casual of a way as possible. Outlined in the pages regarding their general affairs, you’ll find bars, restaurants, parks etcetera that I’ve known them to frequent. Time yourself accordingly and it can go in your favor. That’s your main objective for now. Next we’ll focus on pinning whatever charges we can gather on them so we can bring them in for questioning. Any other questions?”

He nearly wanted to mention the Turks usual interrogation tactics. Fully aware of how underhanded they could be about most of the cases they handle. Perhaps if the circumstances were different they would have brought you in and forced any information out of you. ‘Can’t take the same approach every time,’ Genesis thought to himself, unable to conjure up any questions to ask. Considering anything he would want to know seems to be right before him. “And when do I start?”

“Right now.” Pulling a PHS from his pocket, handing it over to Genesis as Tseng provides the final details, “This is to stay with you at all times. I’ll be tracking your location and will get notified whenever you begin moving. This is also your only way to contact me, the number is already saved. You’re also required to answer at all times. What you’re doing doesn’t matter. You are free to go now. Remember, the moment you see their car-”

“Follow them, I got it.” Genesis didn’t like hearing that in the slightest, his tone making it clear. To constantly be watched by Tseng couldn’t possibly be a good thing. His micromanaging ways would quickly wear down on Genesis nerves, almost positive Tseng would pay him random visits while working alongside him. The when and where Tseng would pop up was on Genesis’ mind. Pocketing the PHS as he got up from his seat, picking up the binder while making a mental note to keep it somewhere secure. To Tseng’s displeasure leaving the seat Genesis moved from its usual home left out of place.

Before Genesis could reach the door, Tseng’s voice rang out, “By the way, I’ll send over a copy of your safety training schedule. Luckily for you, it’s three days out of the week.” Watching as Genesis walked out of the door without a word. Tseng couldn’t help but sigh, envisioning how this mission would be carried out. His hopes weren’t high, but he knew as long as he worked with Genesis it had the potential to be completed.

******

sidenote:Adding Tseng in last minute caused this story to change drastically, but I think it was for the better. Wanted to give more of an update but I'll be adding a couple of more chapters throughout the week. Also mid way through (I don't know why) started typing this out as though reader was female. If i missed any pronouns I didn't make gn please let me know. Though I called myself combing through it numerous times.

[fallen-abel]

You doing alright able?

The clinic was tucked away in a quieter part of Pentagram City, its unassuming exterior blending into the surroundings. Adam led Abel inside, where a lion-headed doctor greeted them with a nod.

Doctor: Adam. Back again so soon?

Adam: *grimacing slightly* Not for me this time. My son needs to see you.

Doctor: *raising an eyebrow as they glanced at Abel* I see. Well you caught me at a good time. Go to Room 3.

Adam guided Abel down a dimly lit hallway. Abel’s heart was pounding now, anxiety clawing at him. When they entered the room, the doctor followed in.

Doctor: Hello. I’m Doctor Buer. What can I help you with? *notices Adam’s flatter stomach* Adam! You’ve given birth?

Adam: *looks away* Yeah…I don’t want to talk about it. I’m here for my son Abel.

Dr. Buer: *motioning to the exam table* Alright Abel, hop up and tell me what’s been going on.

Abel hesitated, glancing at Adam, who gave him an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, he climbed onto the table and began to describe his symptoms—the fatigue, the nausea, the strange heaviness in his body. Dr. Buer listened carefully, occasionally asking questions and jotting down notes.

Dr. Buer: *after a moment* Alright, Abel. I’ll need to run a few tests. Nothing invasive, just some scans to see what’s going on internally. Adam, you can wait here or step out—it’s up to you.

Adam: *glancing at Abel* I’ll stay, if that’s alright.

Abel: *managing a weak smile* Yeah… I’d like that.

Dr. Buer: *motioning to the scanner* I’ll run a full-body scan first. This will give us a clear picture of your internal state.

Dr. Buer moved with practiced ease, positioning the scanner over Abel. The machine hummed softly as it activated, casting a warm glow over Abel’s form. Dr. Buer monitored the results on a screen, his many limbs working efficiently as he adjusted settings and took notes.*

Dr. Buer: *after a moment of silence, his expression shifting slightly* Interesting…

Abel: *his stomach dropping* What? What’s interesting?

Dr. Buer: *glancing at Abel, his tone careful* There’s… something unusual. Nothing alarming, but definitely unexpected. Let me analyze this further before jumping to conclusions.

Adam: *frowning, his protective instincts kicking in* Unusual how?

Dr. Buer: *calmly* It seems the saying “like father like son” applies here.

Abel: Wha…what do you mean?

Dr. Buer: *taking a deep breath, his expression softening* Abel… I believe you might be pregnant.

The room fell silent. Adam’s eyes widened in shock, while Abel stared at Dr. Buer in disbelief, his mind struggling to process the words.

Abel: *barely whispering* P-pregnant? That’s… impossible. I’m not… I mean… how?

Dr. Buer: *nodding sympathetically* It’s extremely rare, but not unheard of in beings with angelic heritage. Your physiology allows for the possibility, even under unusual circumstances. If you’ve recently been in contact with certain… substances or magic, it could have triggered this.

Abel’s thoughts raced, his mind flashing back to the wine Vox had given him, and the way he’d felt afterward. His face paled as realization set in.

Abel: *his voice shaking* Vox…

Adam: *his tone darkening* What about Vox?

Abel: *looking down, tears welling in his eyes* He… he gave me wine. I thought it was just… I didn’t know…

Adam’s jaw tightened, fury flickering in his eyes as he placed a protective arm around Abel.

Adam: *gritting his teeth* That bastard. He did this to you, didn’t he?

Dr. Buer: *interjecting gently* Let’s focus on Abel for now. He needs support, not more stress. We’ll deal with everything else later.

Abel nodded weakly, his emotions overwhelming him.

Adam held him close, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

Dr. Buer: Abel, I understand this is a lot to take in. But we need to discuss your options moving forward. This pregnancy is unique—your body wasn’t initially designed to handle such changes in this environment. It’ll require careful monitoring and support.

Abel nodded slowly, still reeling but listening intently.

Dr. Buer: You have a choice. If continuing the pregnancy is something you want, we can provide the care you need to make it as safe as possible. But… there’s also the option to terminate, should you feel unready or unsafe. No one will judge you for making the decision that’s best for you.

Adam’s gaze hardened, his protective instincts flaring as he held onto Abel’s shoulder. Abel, however, remained quiet, his thoughts racing. For a long moment, the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the hum of the machinery.

Abel: *finally speaking, his voice soft but resolute* No.

Dr. Buer: *raising an eyebrow* No?

Abel: *looking up at the doctor, his golden eyes shining with determination despite the tears threatening to spill* I’m keeping the baby.

Adam’s head whipped around to look at Abel in surprise, but he held his tongue, waiting for his son to continue.

Abel: It’s… not the baby’s fault. They didn’t ask to be brought into this world like this. And… if there’s even a chance I can love and protect them, I want to try. They’re innocent in all of this.

Dr. Buer studied Abel’s face for a moment before giving a small nod, his respect for the young angel evident.

Dr. Buer: That’s a brave choice, Abel. But it won’t be easy. You’ll need to take extra care of yourself, and we’ll have to make regular visits to ensure everything is progressing safely.

Abel: *nodding, his resolve unwavering* I’ll do whatever it takes.

Adam: *unable to stay silent any longer, stepped forward, his expression a mixture of pride and concern* Abel… are you sure?

Abel: *smiling faintly* I’m sure, Dad. I’ll figure it out.

Adam pulled Abel into a tight embrace, his own tears finally spilling over as he held his son close.

Dr. Buer: *let them have their moment before clearing his throat gently.* In that case, I’ll prepare a care plan for you, Abel.

Abel: Thank you.

[spiced-koi-friend]

Two Sides Of A Coin

How exactly is our rival office doing? Surely they must get along great, knowing how efficient they are. But something tells me there's things that happen behind closed doors that perhaps should stay there.

Previous Chapter

Assassin!Goldbullet x Politician!F!Reader, TW: blackmail, stalking Words: 1157 | Rating: R | AO3

“Yo, I’m pretty fucking sure that if you keep that up, you’re gonna get a restraining order.”

“Then I’ll frame it right next to my diploma, and all the photos of him.”

“Fucking weirdo…”

Axel walks away from Flayon, not wanting to get in between him and his obsession with that other secretary. What Flayon does on his own time is none of his business, and at the end of the day he gets all his work done. Axel walks back into Altare’s office, leaning against the door after it closes behind him.

“I’m starting to think that this dude isn’t actually going to kill her.”

“Axel, we have to be patient with things like this. He gave me an update earlier, he’s managed to infiltrate into her office, and was even appointed her personal bodyguard. Even if he failed me yesterday, he’s more than making up for it. If he’s smart, he’ll gather intel as well and know that I’ll pay good money to get that from him.”

“I don’t know, man. Doesn’t feel right…”

“If this is you telling me you’re jealous that you weren’t the one being allowed to kill her, may I remind you exactly why you weren’t allowed to?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m your personal bodyguard and people will know that you told me to do it, and then we both get in trouble.”

“Exactly. 24 is completely independent of our operations. If he gets caught, he’s on his own. He should know this, considering his portfolio was quite extensive.”

“What about his miss yesterday? I thought this dude was supposed to be good!”

“Apparently there was a child that got in the way at the last second, he had to deviate from his shot and reveal his position. Now normally I wouldn’t have cared if he took out others, but apparently his moral code includes only killing people with a paycheque attached to them. Too good to kill for free.”

“I mean, it’s a kid, yo. Not even I would stoop that low.”

“Then maybe I thought better of you, Axel. Is there anything else you need?”

Axel’s hand curls into a fist, Altare just smirks as he knows exactly how to get a rise out of Axel. 

“No sir. Let me know if you need me.”

“Always do. Now go back to being a good guard dog.”

Axel leaves the room before he can explode at his employer, slamming the door behind him as he goes out back to cool off. Fucking guard dog. He’s loyal, sure. But he’s a fucking human being. Not some dog to throw around for funnies. 

“Happy birthday, Axel!!”

Flayon pops up behind Axel, spooking the shit out of him.

“It’s not my birthday yet…”

“Well… I got you something.”

Flayon hands Axel an envelope, watching eagerly as he opens it. Inside is a cheque for a decently substantial amount of money, which makes Axel a little concerned about where he got it from.

“It’s the company budget set aside for your dildos project!”

Axel looks between Flayon and the cheque, before nearly falling over with laughter.

“Let’s goooooo!”

Flayon looks rather proud of himself, just grinning until Axel can pull himself back together. “

“You know, even though you freak me out a little bit, it’s good to know you have my back, bro.”

“Yeah! Just don’t tell Altare. And make sure you cash the cheque on the other side of town. Even better if you can do it out of the country.”

“...I know better than to ask questions I don’t actually want the answers to…”

…

Flayon disappears back into the office, going back to his multiple monitor setup. Pictures of Bettel are plastered all over his screens and desk, with several being from his own personal photograph collection. On a sticky note he has the number of the other office, deciding to call it up to talk to his favorite clown boy.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hi Bettel.”

“Oh, uh, hi Flayon. What, uh, what’s up?”

“Just seeing what you’re doing. Thought I’d call to see if you’re lonely over there.”

“Uh, no! No, I’m good! Real good. Got some uh, new faces around here. Lots of beef- I mean men. Not lonely at all!”

“You’re seeing other men!?”

“I have eyes, Flayon! And we’re not dating or anything, so I plan on using my eyes to look at whoever I want!”

“You may regret saying that…”

“Well! I think that’s all the time we have for today. Have fun creeping out someone else! Don’t call me!”

Bettel hangs up the phone, leaving Flayon grumbling to himself.

“I will make you feel my love, clown man.”

…

Altare looks out over the town from his office chair, leering over the skyline as he pets the cat in his lap. From here he can see the top of the mayoral building, knowing that it will not be easy to vacate it. He thinks about what Axel said, and he doesn’t really blame him for thinking that way. This entire election rests on whether Goldbullet can carry out the job like intended. 

Once his mayoral position is locked in, he has connections with people in higher places. Nothing he can’t buy, no one he can’t buy. Altare will no longer need to pay people to put through the legislation he wants, soon he’ll be able to do it himself. The world is his oyster, and he’s hoarding pearls. 

He turns around, grabbing his phone before getting up to pace around his office.

“Hey, what can I help you wi-”

“I have a potential job for you.”

The silence on the other end of the line lasts for a moment, making Altare question whether the call disconnected or not.

“What’s the job?”

“Good. I thought you’d say that. I’ve hired outside help, to assist with a disposal. In the event that he fails, I need you to finish the job, and bring him to me.”

“You know I don’t do those kinds of jobs anymore…”

Altare measures his breathing, keeping his voice low.

“I kept you out of prison, and I can undo all of that with one email. You will do this job.”

“Thanks for reminding me exactly why I stopped doing those kinds of jobs.”

Altare pounds his fist on the desk, startling his cat who was sleeping on his chair.

“I expect you here to sign the contract by tomorrow evening, or else I’ll be unleashing you and Axel in a forest in the middle of nowhere.”

“So glad you’ve never changed. Make sure you have my preferred tea.”

“I look forward to your visit, glad you can be reasoned with.”

With the end of the call, he scoops his cat back up and heads off to find Axel. He has some chats he needs to have with a particular journalist, he needs some stories put out that the public just has to know about. 

[ace-does-stuff]

be right by your side (no matter what)

Summary: if there's one thing Dee knew from the second her little brother was born, it's that she'd be by his side until one of them died no matter what that meant

Warnings: minor gore, wounds, general anguish and tragedy, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I binged Scoob and Shag in one sitting and went through the five stages of grief and the entire spectrum of human emotion, please go read it or read this fic without reading it, your choice. @sobredunia I can tag you in this nonsense now that you've read majority of Scoob and Shag. there are no spoilers past page 116, hope ya'll enjoy and consider checkin the Ao3 port if you do to leave a comment or kudos

"Don't touch my sister," He snarls the words with this specific resonance that Dee knows all too well considering how very long she's lived with him. The gentle hand on her shoulder raises, the blood of her wound rests on Pop's hand.

"He's just trying to help us out, Dex," Dee said quietly, her little brother was still defiant on the matter. She gave this gentle smile, one she hoped would ease his tension like it usually does.

He's still seething, his sister got hurt, his beloved sister. The person he turned into the angriest kid alive for, the sister he took all of his parents expectations for, the sister he tried to protect and failed to do so. He was sure he could keep her safe, sure he could keep her just fine on the supply raid because she was so desperate to join him.

To prove she wasn't just the nuisance he always said she was.

"I'm aware of that," He spat back, "How do we know we can trust them? Trust they don't have a Ballyhoo that'll hide Antihoo monsters? They could hurt us, Dee."

"We won't hurt you," Pop said, "We're in Med Bay 03, Mick and his cohorts are out there and can't hurt us-"

"I remember, Mick, Bugs, Ger, and Scoob," Dex spat bitterly, "I'm curious as to what makes you so sure me and my sister aren't a part of Mick's team?"

"A hunch," was Pop's answer to the question, "We saw you and your sister about to be torn to shreds by an Antihoo monster and saved you, of course, we couldn't patch all of your wounds while you two were passed out.

Dee's fingers raise to the small wound on her brothers arm, partially dried blood spilling down his lab coat. He hissed and pulled away from her, "Bring me to your lab and I'll start devising better and more efficient healing methods than bandaids and polysporin."

-/-/-/-

"You need to stay where it's safe, Dee," Dex would consistently chide despite his sister's insistence on joining them on the battlefield. Her Ballyhoo was never combative, it was an assist at best. Closed Caption, it let her read the thoughts of everyone around if she needed.

Dee clenched her fists a bit tighter, pigtails comically drooping, "But, Dexter, I could help-"

"Don't be an idiot, Dee Dee!" The aggressiveness to his tone is unintentional, but it makes Dee back down unlike when they were kids. Before they were part of the forces on planet Toone, before things got really bad, "Your Ballyhoo can give us nothing on the battlefield, it can barely give us anything off the battlefield either. You need to stay here to stay safe, monitor the injured, watch the doors, make sure that no is trying to double cross us."

And Dee wants so fucking badly to defy him, to push back, but ever since day one her brother has been the intellectual of the two. She nods, submitting to what she knows to be the truth, proven time and time again by the insanity upon the crashed spaceship. She takes a seat on a spinning chair, "Alright, Dex, please be careful out there. You're our best medic in spite of your Ballyhoo, did you ever realize how destructive it is?"

"My Ballyhoo? Pah! It's naught but my machines, my gadgets, little bombs I place my power in, ticking time bombs to save us all or kill us all," Dex answered without putting any thought behind it, "Mick used his Ballyhoo for evil, he still is, and I'll use mine to fight the good fight." His hand come to rest upon a set of wrenches, flat head and perfectly fitting within his hand. He grabs a set of his small bombs, his little trinkets used to properly and safely activate his Ballyhoo, he'll need them if they come across A Commander.

Dee just nods solemnly, highly aware of the fact that her brother isn't a fan of his Ballyhoo being a weaker version of Mick's. It's detrimental to his sense of being, his sense of identity, that he can be on the good guys team despite the fact his Ballyhoo is just a terrible reminder of what they're facing. That's why he throws himself into medical fields and machinery for defenses, the only way to detach himself from using his power to be a help, "I'll go patch up Felix and Yogi," She snags some of his special edition gauze tape, medication infused within it for good measure.

"Thank you for understanding, Dee," Dex said quietly, raising a gloved hand to readjust his goggles, the other hand stuffing weaponry into his lab coat pockets, "I'll be back, and better yet with some of those chips you keep nagging me about recreating."

"Thanks bro," There's this hoping sweetness on her voice, an innocence despite the fact that everything is falling apart around them.

-/-/-/-

Eyes sting with tears as she watches her brother be wheeled off on life support after the bout with Foghorn Leghorn, the bout that put one of them permanently out of business and the other near fatally wounded. She managed to deface the asshole that hurt her little brother, that nearly killed her little brother, but there was still the problem of the fact she didn't move fast enough. This could be it.

"Like, he'll be fine," Shag tried to console, good hand resting on Dee's shoulder. He sat beside her on the floor of their getaway, their emergency escape whether they failed or succeeded. And they succeeded but at a cost that Dee absolutely hated, an expense that made her feel ill.

She takes staggering breaths, gloved hand raising to run through blonde hair matting with blood. It hurts. Every little thing hurts, talking, breathing, touching her hair, her face hurts so much with how badly Foghorn messed it up. She slumps a little bit further down, "It should've been me."

Shag doesn't answer to fill the radio silence.

"I'm the big sister, and yeah I saved him, but," She stares at the body of her little brother. He's barely breathing. His heart rate is weak. Her breath hitches as she draws a hand to her now bright pink eyes to stifle the tears, "I didn't really save him."

"We'll fix him up, Dee," It's a promise that Shag can't keep, but he makes it anyways.

Dee nods and leans against Shag, "Okay."

[hrblusky]

Why ‘EXCEL’ is no More a Better Choice for HRMS

I have all the data that is needed for the analysis? Where should I feed into?” Guess the answer that we usually hear? That’s right. It’s EXCEL. Whatever data organization or process that we wanted to start off with, our go to software is EXCEL. Despite discipline, it has been in use for more years.  

We all use excel because we have been so comfortable with it for years and years. It is a matter of fact that it is not ‘the most’ efficient tool especially when it comes to human resource management systems. Most prominently, during the initial process, HR needs certain type of data to be entered as listed below 

Basic information like name, date of birth, date of joining, contact information, gender details, email ids etc  

Information and documentation about the history of their employment  

Current information like his employee id, work location, reporting authority and so on ��

Sensitive information such as their passport details, entry permit, emirates ID card and so on 

Excel is overwhelmed with human resource management data. Data handled by HR are almost invariable in size and number. Let’s throw light on the challenges we face and their solutions.  

For instance, let’s focus on the data that must be changed in the leave management system. People’s date of join must be updated for new hires based on which all types of leaves must be updated, status of the leave must be maintained, HR should be notified when it gets changed. It will be bootless when the data was not updated in the intended sheet instantly. Everyone cannot be given access to all the spreadsheets in the organization. Regular checks on the updates of the data itself consume most of the time and it is prone to error too!  

The significant leaps that the organizational revolution brought to us also include in replacing the bulk of excel data collection to interactive, customized and communicative human resource management solutions. There is a better way to handle these peaks and valleys of excel spreadsheet data. Opting for leading human resource management solutions with ‘Employee Leave /Vacation Processing’ through which you will get a self-servicing portal is the smartest decision to make. It helps employees to apply/request for the leave approval, which is then conquered by the reporting managers and the HR leader. As a continuity, approving or rejecting the leaves, understanding the unpaid deductions and leaves is also made simpler to cope up with the dynamic turbulent business environment. This doesn’t end here, above all, it also accepts and handles the different types of leave requests combined altogether.  

The leave management is a fractional part of the huge human resource management functions which comprises employee attendance management system, employee shift scheduling, applicant tracking and monitoring system, human resource information system, payroll management system, wellness and benefit management system, employee visa services system and the list goes on endlessly 

Time Sensitivity – An Asset in Human Resource Management  

Updating every record, department-wise, slows down the productivity of every individual involved in the process. In case of any queries, going back and answering any employees' details takes an intensive amount of work and time. During pandemic outbreak situations management expects HRs to deliver more results than ever before. Hence, acquiring a human resource management tool is much more effective and faster. A spreadsheet data will not notify about the outstanding sick note, visa expire of an employee, training for critical resources which are about to be renewed and so many other requests that need immediate attention and action.  

A handy HRMS software or the tool should have the major Human Resource Management System features such as employee payroll processing systems, employee claims processing system, leave management system and all the other externally related services to human resource management functions. Managers of all departments, the administrators, can view the details about them.   

Businesses all over the world face the knowledge gap within an organization these days, Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM), said in the report. The overview of the test, handled in spring 2013, comprised 240 individuals from the board’s enrollment database and 5,000 SHRM individuals who are HR administrators or more. There were 391 reactions. “Without the adaptability offered by responsive migration strategies, worldwide managers may lose their serious edge, creating unfavorable financial conditions for the existing business”. 

‘Privacy’ With the Spreadsheets Is Still Considered as Fantasy 

Earlier, HR departments are the ones who take care of the accounting manual process also. Companies start responding to use the latest technology in the realm of human resource management these days, cutting down so many other unproductive and unrelated services. Even if it is a small business, HR should ensure that the method they propose to handle the entire process should be scalable and work even during the expansion of the workforce. When the hiring is particular to UAE, which comprises so much private information including visa details, medical details, permit details, nationality and so on. Just by forwarding the spreadsheets to and fro, across the departments and co-workers can cause a high risk to data privacy. Even though we can protect our sheet using passwords, viewing of the sheets is still possible in the spreadsheet system. Data flow is always overshared during those days. We at HRBluSky, take all the human resource information with a high level of screening and control layers. Every resource in an organization can view the piece of information which is intended for them to see. 

Research done by the Salesforce team says that about 88% of all the excel sheets will have an important and serious flaw in it. To be more precise, the��spreadsheets hold the glitch in 1% or more of the formula cells. Despite so many influencing factors, unwittingly we delete a cell or key into the wrong place. Human resource management systems always take care of the business objectives and strive hard to stick to the strategic goals that are created. Just because of the error prone methodologies and the practices, let’s not give a chance for the business scope to get diluted. Unnecessary tasks can be cut down to have a better focus on the goals.     

Employers always wanted to access talents across the globe by not confining themselves by region or country. Hiring in a country like UAE posts various obstacles when inhibiting the professionals from foreign nationals. According to the council of global immigration, it said in a report that, the timely ability to obtain the work permit visa is critical to their organization’s business objective. That is why many of the companies in UAE assist a good human resource management system to ease the process. There are so many human resource management functions involved in expanding the workforce in UAE. This includes visa quota approval, job offer contract, approval of work permit, getting the employment entry visa, medical screening processes, obtaining emirates ID, medical health insurance card application etc.  

Considering the time and complexity of all these above-mentioned processes, it is so apparent why companies outsource human resource management to a trustworthy solution like HRBluSky.  

An Effective Human Resource Management Solution 

An advanced human resource portal comprises all HR-related information with an interface dashboard to make it more interactive by its nature. It has a mobile application rather, when they work in shifts round the clock. Every user being in the part of the human resource management software can have varied access controls based on what data that they wanted to view. Reducing redundancy solves most of the chaos which is not sufficient in excel management. This dedicated human resource management is powered with the ease of use ‘employee self-service portal’. 

To the matter of fact that the UAE employment is substantially critical to the other regions. You might have already started realizing this if you are an individual looking to work in Dubai or if you’re an organization looking to hire staff from abroad in the workforce expansion process. When a company is seeking to widen its workforce horizon, then we need to be ready to welcome the resource pool from various geographic locations across the globe with hassle-free employment experience. Considering the existing human resource regulations and compliance that we must adhere to in recruiting an employee, without the efficient human resource management tool, it would still be a nightmare for us all. 

Human resource leaders will be able to provide much more strategic value addition to their organization with the best supported human resource management solution HRBluSky. Being able to leverage the powerful solution like this from visa to well-being tracking, HR will be given an insight about the critical information, to turn it into a more informed decision in the future. On a routine basis, every resource can exchange the vital information needed for the smooth flow of the business. Owing to its collaborative nature with strong import/export capabilities, users of our HRMS say that it is sophisticated in their end-to-end process with the advantage of having multi layered security options to have better control over the data. Want to know more about us? Visit our website now. RIGHT HERE!! 

[bkwrm523]

Debriefing

Title: Debriefing Rating: Explicit Pairing: Bruce Wayne/reader Word Count: 2986 Warnings: Smut, batcave sex, table sex, oral, vibrators, daddy kink, feels confessions. Summary: Bruce and the reader have an argument after patrol Author’s Note: As usual, this is about no particular universe’s Batman.  You get to see whichever one you want.

The car pulled to a stop inside Bruce Wayne’s garage, and you exhaled a sigh of relief as you turned the car off.  You’d almost stopped to pick him up, but Alfred over the coms had assured you that he would drive the Batmobile home.  Probably a better idea than you picking him up, anyway.  It would have been hard to explain.  With all the punishment you’d put Bruce’s car through, you were a bit surprised it had managed to limp all the way home.

“Alfred,” you said aloud, your voice picked up by the com unit in your ear.  “Is-”

“Master Bruce is already here.”  Alfred answered, not needing to wait for the rest of your question to know what you were asking.  “He’s currently in the cave, if you wish to speak to him.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”  You signed and shut your eyes for a minute.

Bruce had almost died tonight.

You could tell something was wrong with the supervillain he just charged into, and tried to warn Bruce to take it slow and careful.  He hadn’t listened, and you’d had to rescue him.  By stealing one of Bruce Wayne’s cars and trying to run the villain over.

You finally pushed the car door open, heaving yourself out of the car and walked into the house.  It felt like it took an hour for you to reach the batcave, so massive was the house.

“So, that went well.”  You spat sarcastically as you descended into the Batcave.  You could see the top of Bruce’s head around the desk and monitors, and walked slowly towards him.

“It could have been worse.”  He replied, not turning towards you.  “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.”  You told him calmly.  “It wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d just listened to me from the start.”  Your voice was clipped, not afraid to make your annoyance audible.  You finally walked around the computer, and his form came fully into view.

And damn was that a mistake.  He was shirtless.

You’d been working for Bruce for months, and had been suppressing your feelings for him the whole time.  He was miles out of your league.  You could never quite tell if he’d figured it out or not.  Bruce wasn’t the easiest person to lie to, but the way he behaved… it was either totally innocent, or he was enjoying toying with you.  It made you frightened and excited all at once.  

Bruce still wore the pants and boots of the Batsuit, but he’d discarded everything above the waist.  Your mouth went dry, and you suddenly forgot how to form words.  You swallowed, an effort of will keeping your jaw from dropping to the floor.  It was quite difficult to remember why you’d been angry.  There was a large bandage on his shoulder from where he’d been grazed by a bullet.  The rest of his torso was a mass of bruises.  It was hardly a secret how much Bruce worked out, and damn did it show with the view of him without a shirt.  You couldn’t take your eyes off his chest.

“I’ve faced skilled opponents before.”  Bruce said calmly, turning to face you.  Somehow, you managed to force your eyes off his chest and back to his face.  Was that a smirk?  Shit, his face wasn’t any better.  You took in a breath, looking away from him and down at the desk, searching your brain for the arguments that had been so clear before he’d taken his fucking shirt off.

“We… uh, we needed a plan.”  You stuttered out, sounding anything but convincing.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” Bruce replied, sounding amused.  He stepped closer to you, and you felt your breath catch.  You didn’t think you could handle this.  “I know what I’m doing, and I felt I could handle the situation.”

“You wanted me to be a part of this team because you wanted my advice.”  A full sentence!  Fantastic!  And all that went out the window when your eyes flitted over his still bare chest again.  Fuck.  “If - if, uh, you don’t listen to me, then… then I’m not - not sure what I’m, uhm, doing here.”  Look away from his face.  Look away from his chest.  Fuck, just look away from him in general.  You quickly dropped your eyes back to the desk.  Safer that way.  Bruce moved again, stepping into your space until you could feel the warmth from his body.

“I won’t always agree with you, but don’t underestimate your contributions.”  Bruce replied, smooth and comforting.  He rested a hand on your arm, and you nearly moaned aloud at the touch of his skin on yours.  He rubbed a thumb gently against the skin on your inner arm, and you swallowed again.  His other hand gently grabbed your chin, lifting your head to force you to look at him.  You had to fight the urge to let out a squeak, feeling trapped under his gaze.  His eyes… the best you could describe it, was predatory amusement.

“I, uh…” you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.  A smirk curled his lips as he stared at you.  “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”  Bruce said, his voice filled with amusement as his smirk grew smug.  He stepped forward again, forcing you to stumble backwards until your ass hit the desk.  His steps were slow and measured and confident, where you were an undignified scramble, nearly falling before you hit the desk.  You could feel his breath on your lips, making your own breath catch.

Finally, after months of teasing, your patience snapped.

You leaned into him, crossing the last of the distance between your lips and his.  Bruce growled, and this time you couldn’t stop the squeak that emerged from you.  A small smile curled his lips briefly.  The hand that had been on your chin moved to cup the back of your skull and hold you in place as his tongue pushed into your mouth, ravaging your lips.  You moaned, leaning into him, overwhelmed with sensation.  His stubble was starting to grow back, making the kiss pleasantly rough.  His hand on your head, his other arm on your back, the warmth of his bare chest pressing into you.  He kissed you aggressively, leaning you back against the table.  You lifted your arms to wrap around his shoulders, clinging to him as he dominated the kiss, trapping you against his form.  A thigh pushed between your legs, pushing one leg out of the way.  His pants were armored, so you couldn’t tell if he was erect under them, but you’d be willing to bet he was.  You tried to mumble around his lips and tongue, but everything came out muffled, and all you could do was surrender and moan.

When Bruce finally released your lips, you dropped your head back and gasped for air.  A moment later, the breath left your lungs when you felt Bruce’s lips on your neck.  The stubble that had been pleasant during the kiss was so much more stimulating on your neck, and your knees simply gave out.  The hand on your head dropped to your back, and his grip tightened around you, holding you aloft.  He lifted you a little, setting you down on the desk.  The elevated height brought your face about level with his, and he finally stood up straight.  Your mouth went dry again, trying to take everything in at once, for about a second before he was on you again.

Your legs went around his waist, his chest pressed against you again.  One arm went around your back, and the other lifted to tilt your head to the side, giving him access to your neck.  You whined and squirmed in his arms as his lips stole your ability to think.  He leaned into you, his hips making little thrusts into you.  Your head rolled back on your shoulders, and your fingers scratched at his bare shoulderblades.  You whined his name, panting and trying to find the breath to plead.  He gave a groaning growl and leaned into you.  You whined more and ground into him, wishing he’d just take off his pants already so you could feel him.

One of the arms on your back went lowered, until it was practically around your ass.  He pulled your hips into his, holding you tightly to him and ground back into you.  You cried his name as his teeth bit into your neck, biting and sucking just where you were most sensitive.  He rubbed against your clit until your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Bruce,” you breathed, your hand unconsciously lifting to bury in his hair.  Another growl came from your neck.  His hips rhythmically rocked into yours, making you whine and moan and plead.  You tried to squirm away, but his grip was a vise, and you weren’t escaping any time soon.

Bruce ripped away from you, stepping back and withdrawing his heat from you as suddenly as he’d attacked you, leaving you dazed, breathless, and confused.  He held your gaze for a long moment, before dropping his eyes down to his pants as he undid the latches.  You almost leaned forward to help him, but resisted the urge; his pants were armored, and bound to be complicated.  However they were designed, he’d be much more efficient at removing them than you would.

A moment later, it occurred to you that his hands were busy.  That they would be for a few moments, at least.  You pulled your shirt off quickly, tossing it heedlessly to the side.  Your bra was discarded an instant later.  You leaned back a little, dropping your head back on your shoulders, sliding your eyelids partly shut and cupping your breasts with your hands.  You tweaked your nipples, giving a soft sigh at the stimulation.  You kept your eyes on him, and so you saw the exact moment he heard you sigh, and saw his eyes snapped up to you.  They narrowed when he saw what you were doing.  A small growl escaped his lips, and you bit your own lip to suppress the noise that tried to escape you.  His movements on his pants were swift and clipped, and in no time he had removed the rest of his clothes.  He took a swift step forwards, and you dropped your hands to the desk and smirked at him.

“You realize you’re going to pay for that, kitten?”  Bruce asked, giving a crooked, confident smirk.

“Worth it,” you giggled.  Bruce held your eyes for a moment, then produced a zip tie from a drawer.  He didn’t give you time to speak, but pulled your hands behind your back, and secured them in place.  He pulled the zip tie tight, but looser than you expected.  You wiggled a little, testing it; it was tight enough to keep your hands there, but loose enough that you’d have no trouble pulling them free if you really wanted to.  Bruce waited for you to finish testing it, until you looked back up at him.  He kissed you again, gentle this time, cupping the back of your skull again with one hand and planting the other behind you.  You squirmed a little, struggling fruitlessly against the bonds and his hands, but got nowhere.  Bruce leaned forward, slowly pushing you back.  You leaned into his arms, letting him support you as he carefully pushed you down onto the desk, lying somewhat awkwardly on top of your bound hands.  He released your lips with a parting nip, letting you gasp for breath as you tried to guess his next move.

You half expected him to attack your breasts, but instead you felt his hands at your pants.  He undid them, pulled them off, leaving you lying naked on the table.  You could suppress the small ‘meep’ that emerged when you saw the way he ogled your naked pussy ravenously.  Bruce turned his torso around, looking around the small space you were both in, until he spotted the chair.  He grabbed it, pulling it over next to the space of counter you were lying on, and sat.

Oh.

He intended to take his time with you.

You swallowed reflexively, nervous and excited all at once.  It must have shown on your face, as Bruce gave you a smirk with eyes full of mischief.  From the angle you had, you couldn’t really see much more than his face.  But you suddenly felt his fingers tease your opening ever so lightly.  You gave a loud moan and dropped your head down on the table with a thunk.  When you felt a vibrator teasing around your clit, you gave a yelp and your legs jerked.  Where the ever living fuck had he gotten that from?!

Bruce didn’t show any mercy, continuing his teasing of your clit as he leaned in.  You felt his breath on your pussy lips, and your eyes slid closed as your breath came in short, quick pants.  His tongue pushed into you, and you felt as much as heard his pleased groan at your taste.  A small whine left you at the noise, the vibrations from him and the vibrator teasing you more than stimulating you, leaving you desperate for more.

“Bruce,” you gasped.  “Please.”

The vibrator grazed your clit then, and your legs shot straight up.  Bruce leaned into you, burying his face in you and devouring you ravenously.  He rested his free hand on your hip, holding you steady as he tortured you with tongue and vibrator until you screamed.

Two or three orgasms later, you’d lost count, Bruce sat back and removed his stimulation, finally letting you come down.  Your legs (you hadn’t quite registered it, but apparently they’d been sticking out totally straight while he’d been working on you) fell back down to the counter.  You panted hard, trying to catch your breath after the marathon he’d put you through.

Bruce stood, leaning over you and resting his arms on the table to support his weight.  His expression was tender, gentle, in a contrast to the pleasurable torture he’d just put you through.  One hand stroked a lock of hair out of your face.

“Can you do one more, kitten?”  Bruce asked you softly.  You didn’t even have to think, you just nodded.  

Bruce dropped a short, soft kiss on your lips, then nuzzled his face into your neck.  Your overstimulated nerves jumped at the feeling, and all you could do was give a weak moan and squirm a little.  He leaned his hips into yours, until you felt his erection against your pussy, sliding against your clit.  The orgasms he’d given you made you still wet enough that it felt amazing.  You groaned, and Bruce stopped his teasing of your neck to sink his teeth into your skin and growl.

“‘M ready.”  You gasped out.  “Please.”  That drew another growl from Bruce, and he let your neck out of his teeth, resting his forehead against you and panting into your wet skin.  One hand left the table, going between his legs to position his dick as he pulled back.

When Bruce finally slid into you, it was so painfully slow that you couldn’t help but squirm and whine.

“Stop.  Moving.”  Bruce growled, his voice dropping into his Batman voice, only arousing you further.

“Please, daddy!”  You cried, then froze.  The words just came out without thinking, and you didn’t know if he was into that.  Bruce stopped moving for a moment, as well, and for a horrible moment you were terrified that you’d killed the mood.

“Be patient, princess.”  Bruce growled into your ear, nipping at you.  Lust filled his voice, soothing your worry that your exclamation had been unwanted; far from it.

Bruce kept pushing his dick into you, continuing until he bottomed out.  Then he just sat there, frustratingly patient, waiting and panting and nipping at your neck while he waited for you to adjust.

“Please, daddy, just fuck me!”  You finally cried, unable to wait any longer.

And boy, did he.

Bruce’s hands on the table moved, grasping the far edge of it with both hands to hold it steady as his hips thrusted into yours.  Your head rolled back, arching your back into him.  You were utterly unable to speak, tiny unintelligible noises emitting from you.  Bruce buried his face in your neck, alternately sucking and nipping hard at your neck as he made the table shudder from his thrusts.

You were still overstimulated from the earlier orgasms, and he was so aroused already, it didn’t take you both long to climb to the precipice.  Your vision whited out and you screamed, feeling him orgasm inside you moments later.

When you came to, you were still in the batcave.  Your hands were unbound, and your shirt and pants had been put back on you.  Judging by the feel between your legs, he’d taken a damp towel or something and wiped you clean, and then apparently set you in the cot he had set up down in the batcave.  You made a small inquisitive noise, stirring, and Bruce suddenly came into your line of vision.  He walked over to you, and sat on the side of the bed next to you.

“Hey,” you greeted him, your voice rough and groggy.  Bruce looked… uncertain.  Nervous.  You pulled a hand free of the blankets and held his, wanting to reassure him.

“Hey.”  Bruce replied, a small smile emerging at your action.  His thumb rubbed the part of your hand it could reach soothingly.  “This… this wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you how I felt.” “Really?”  You teased.  “It seemed perfect to me.”  That startled a laugh out of Bruce, and you warmed at the sound.

“Be that as it may, I’d… I’d really like to take you to dinner sometime.” “I’d like that.”  You smiled back up at him.

[cursed-domain]

I heard we’re reviving the deathnote fandom so i figured it was a good time to revive my account hehe

Word count: 1.5k

Relationship: L x reader (written from L’s perspective👀)

Content tags/warnings: kinda cute but definitely smut, first blowjob, head pushing

If that all sounds good, proceed :)

You bring me coffee sometimes. You set it down between me and the computer screen, and tell me that you added enough sugar to make it taste good. You usually haven’t added enough, but I don’t particularly mind.

What you haven’t realized is that I have no difficulty staying awake when I’m working on a case that interests me. I actually only ever have difficulty with falling asleep. It would be more efficient for both of us if you stopped bringing me coffee. But you keep doing it, and I don’t tell you to stop. I should tell you to stop, but I don’t, and I tell myself that surely you wouldn’t keep fetching drinks for me if it was a serious hindrance to your work. You only come visit me, and my dark room, and my glowing computer monitor, for the good of the case. It’s completely rational.

I have to be rational - I know that no distraction is more important than this puzzle, this chase, the net I’m weaving from this room, and so I don’t talk to you for long when you visit. You ask me how things are going - you always ask such vague questions - and I tell you that I’m making progress. I feel tempted to tell you this even when it isn’t true. This may be because I believe you’ll be more successful in your work if your morale is high. There are other possibilities, as well.

Not knowing is unfamiliar, and it bothers me. I don’t know why I want to stop you from worrying, or why I drink your coffee every night even when you’ve gotten the sugar ratio all wrong. And I don’t know why you take the time to bring me coffee at all, because I don’t really believe that your motivations are rational. I do believe that you would sit down next to me, if I had a second chair. But I’m still not quite sure why, and I’d like to know with 100% accuracy before I make any decisions.

Of course, the probability goes down to 0% if no one decides anything...

You bring sugar packets with the coffee tonight. You smile and say, “I thought that you might want to do it yourself. I can tell when you don’t like it, you know.”

I didn’t know, but I make note of it. “Thank you,” I say. “I find coffee disgusting by itself. I prefer hot chocolate, actually.”

Your face turns a bit pink, and you say, “I’m sorry. I could bring you that tomorrow.” I want to invite you to sit down, but there is still only one chair in the room. I should have planned for this. There’s a reason I didn’t. I’m productive alone. I’m a genius, alone. Still...

“Coffee’s fine,” I say. “The sugar makes it much better.” My yawn afterwards is performative, but the exhaustion it belies is certainly real.

“You’ve got bags under your eyes,” you say. Then you flush, again. You color the most at the high points of your cheeks. “They don’t look bad or anything. I just - you seem really tired.”

“I am,” I say. “I’ve had approximately six hours of sleep in the last two nights, and I need at least five per night to function at full capacity. It’s not ideal.”

“Definitely not.” You don’t look tired, although you’ve been awake late, as well. You have bright eyes, and they’re still bright now. Long eyelashes, too. And I like the pink in your cheeks. I’d like it to stay there.

“Why do they send you every night?” I ask.

“They don’t send me,” you say.

I smile, lean back on my heels, and tear open a sugar packet.

“Do you need anything else?” you ask. “Other than sleep.”

I empty a second packet, then a third. “Nothing, besides a breakthrough.”

“Or maybe just a break.” Your tone has changed, now, although I don’t quite know how, or what it’s meant to reflect. I find it relaxing, though, enough that I let myself slide from crouching to sitting in my chair.

“Perhaps. A short break could actually improve my efficiency tonight.” I pause, here. My mind really is slower when I’m sitting down.

“Do you want company?” You lean over the desk, and your hand lands close to mine. You smile white and you blush pink, and a lock of hair falls over your eye.

There is no chair. I could say yes, if there was one. But there is no chair, because I planned to make myself work alone, even if you came, when you came -

“I’ll sit on the floor,” you say. “Don’t worry.”

I nod my assent, and you take your seat, leaning back on your hands. When I talk to you, I lean over the arm of my chair. “I’ve calculated some probabilities you might be interested in,” I say.

“With all due respect to your brilliance, I don’t think I need you to tell me.” You look up at me from the floor and take hold of the seat of my chair. It turns on its base if you move it, and you pull it until I’ve turned 90 degrees to face you. “They really don’t send me to visit you. I come all by myself.”

I like the sight of you underneath me, so much that I feel compelled to turn my gaze away. It lands on the coffee cup, open, full nearly to the brim. “You don’t have to bring anything,” I say. “Next time. You can just come up. Talk to me.”

From the corner of my eye, I see you tilt your head, and your hair fall away from your face. “Won’t that be a distraction?”

“Yes.” I turn away from the coffee cup and look at you, sitting at my feet as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m not used to feeling this chair at my back. I’m not used to feeling this - this.

You giggle - it’s unnatural, hearing such a light sound in this place - and pull yourself closer. “Well, then. What should we talk about?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m not very good at... that.” There’s a decent chance that you want to come even closer, but my legs are in the way. And it would be vulgar to part them. Presumptuous. Especially considering what you’ve surely already noticed -

“We’ll be quiet, then.” You rise to your knees and push the offending limbs to either side. “There are other things worth doing.”

You deserve a better light than the harsh glow of a computer. You deserve a better place, and a better reason than - what? An attraction to intelligence, maybe, or pity -

I don’t let myself go down that train of thought. For once - just this once - I can leave something unconsidered.

You’ve tied back some of your hair. I can see your face, and watch your tongue, softer than any hand, brush over me for the first time. I don’t wonder how I taste, or how I compare - these are thoughts for later. You’re slow, at first, and warm. Some of your hair falls out of its tie and laps at my skin, but you pay it no mind. You tease me, you coax me, you cover me, and I shudder when you pull away.

There’s saliva hanging from your lips, and I feel the urge to reach down and spread it across your face. “If you want to,” you say, “push my head down at the end. I’ll like it.”

I lean back in my chair - now, it feels like my throne - and grip the armrests. There’s not an inch you haven’t touched, but I still want you to take more. I could make you take it, I realize, shove down and shove up and fuck your throat until you’re tugging back against my hand. But I wait. You’re better than I ever could have imagined, and you only said at the end...

I want you like this every night. I can take the time. I can earn it. In front of my eyes flashes a picture of how you might look with your shirt unbuttoned, or on your knees with nothing at all. Every night, every night, every single night - I take the back of your head and pull you tight between my hips, driving everything I have into you.

You take it easily and smile and sit back on your heels. “We don’t have to talk,” you say. “I’ll bring you another coffee tomorrow night.” Your hair comes down, and I push mine back from my face.

“Tomorrow,” I repeat. Tomorrow, and the night after, and the next...

You grab a sugar packet before you leave. It takes a minute for me to laugh at this, and another several before I can turn back to the work ahead of me.

[kingskwing]

Since summer is coming to a close, could I pls request headcanons with Rosa, artem and luke (or all 5 of them if you're feeling up to it!) With a reader who's having trouble focusing on studies? Or just needs to study for their exams/etc and a little motivation might help! Tysm if you do this !! 💗

I'm gonna need these smh let's goooo, in other news lost my nice font hope I find it again

I did it again folks, all of the nxx members (means mc included), but I'm putting extras in the three requested jajwhdjjwr

The nxx helps you get back into the swing of school

marius von hagen

Study dates study dates study dates

Sure hes a busy CEO, but he's still a student. When he's tied up with both and still wants to help you, he picks you up/comes over for a study date! There are two ways this can go. He's either stunningly focused, taking good notes while you're in his lap and hes pressing kisses to the top of your head, or he's wrapped around u like a koala distracting you until you scold him

Say the word and hes all over helping you. Hes patient and thorough, having known you long enough to know how best you process information. He even swallowed his pride and went to Vyn for resources bc he saw you were struggling :)

BUT he might huff a lil if you're not getting smth, mostly bc he thought that way would work and is trying to think of another way to put it

If he can't get away from work, he asks his assistant to check up on you, be it with a call or a visit.

After a big test he'll pop you in his car and barrel down an open road with the music at max, reveling in your smile. He takes you to some isolated cliff or beach aaa

If you struggle waking up, he either wakes you himself in-person or with a call on his way to work, he left u breakfast on the counter :)

He does prefer texting, but not with you anwjfw he calls u so often he just misses your voice

vyn richter

Guys hes literally a professor so hear me out

Ofc as a teacher AND a shrink hes gonna know exactly what you need before you need it, be that resources, breaks, or help going back to it. He'll make sure you learn it, even if you're a little mad at him being so strict in the moment :(

When you thank him after and apologize he brushes it off, it was nothing and he knows you were stressed

Take him somewhere please hes fine but wants to make sure you still trust him to fix ur problems and take you places idk why hes so bent on being reliable its endearing and sus asf

Cafe study dates :) he does his thing but monitors you closely, helping when necessary

Knows exactly how to explain things and never ONCE gets impatient

His presence becomes invisible even when hes helping you. You hear his voice and accept his help, but you almost forget hes a person until he touches you. It's really nice for feeling like you're able to focus on your own thing without feeling lonely

If you manage to stump him hes VERY impressed and rewards you somehow ankwifusk

After a big test he spends a whole day in with you, reading aloud and playing with your hair while a relaxing tea cools on the table next to you both.

artem wing

EFFICIENCY IAJWJUFJET he studied for the bar and went thru all of law school, not to mention he keeps up his review strategies from college to make sure hes always prepared

Hes got his own planner for YOUR assignments and helps you break them down

If you need help he'll send resources but hes really busy so hes confident you can find help

Doesn't trust Vyn so he wont call him himself, but if you go to the psych hes got no issue (lie)

Reads up on your major between cases it's so funny and celestine is in hysterics

Hes so sweet about reminding you to do things and will sit with you if you have trouble getting started otherwise. Always makes sure to reassure you afterwards that you're not incapable and he's not babying you out of pity, he wants to help and since that helps you do things more easily he'll always help however he can.

Lets you search under his account since he gets most news sites for free, be it through connections or a minor expense he'll never tell you about

Loves staying somewhere quiet and comfy when helping you out, so if you aren't at his or your home, he's taken you to a library

After a test he slow dances with you in his flat after taking you for an evening window shopping and eating small local snacks

You tease him about kisses as rewards for correctly answered questions? He's loosening his tie and leaning closer, embarrassed but fully ready to kiss you... is he excited? The way he's whispering "is it right?" after each question is enough to make you laugh, enjoying his light and genuine smile every time you confirm and the little furrow in his brow when you get one wrong

He gets pent up and when you finish the sheet he's pulling you in fast by the back of your neck

Loves when you make flashcards, he's excited to quiz you. It makes him feel properly helpful and he loves your smile when you recall a term correctly

Goes out to get coffee every now and again and always comes back with a flower for you, be it picked from between the sidewalk or bought from a vendor

luke pearce

Kisses you himself for every correct answer ok listen to this

You're in his lap (ofc) and his head is over your shoulder. He's likely familiar with the subject, so he doles out rewards and lil punishments of his own accord. With every correct answer, he presses a kiss of random length to your cheek, laughing when you get huffy at a chaste peck. However, wrong answers have him biting your earlobe. The first time he did it your breath hitched, but you quickly realized it wasn't sexual when he dug his sharp canine into it just enough to hurt without being damaging. Your blush was worth the slap on the arm (if ur into pain. Uhhhh idk what to say wjdjjwr have fun getting things wrong on purpose 😭)

Likes helping you study in open areas, so if you're down he'll take you to the building with the most windows on campus, the plaza, or some remote location he knows abt thru his work

Is SO prepared, has a duffel bag just for helping you out filled with review materials he made himself, your favorite snacks, and somehow, the exact amount of water you need for that outing

If you're taking a moment alone to focus, hes running off and making a pile of interesting or pretty things hes bought or found while you're busy and presents them to you when you're done

Wants to be touching you the whole time this is not optional

Knows your music taste and puts smth on when appropriate if you like but makes sure you're focused when you need to be

If you're in a funk and just cannot get into the right mindset, he knows exactly what you need to fix it

Need comfort after a hard test? He does what your mother used to do when you were younger, and to your surprise it's still effective

If you like making your notes pretty he buys you stationery

Makes you a discreet recording device so you can listen to lectures for anything you missed

After a hard test he takes you to do something active or spend an evening in his shop, reliving the past and making silly impressions of way-back-when

Makes a lil digital him on your phone in case he can't help you and it reminds you of coping strategies and locks your apps until break time 😭

MC

She remembers studying for the bar and does everything she can to help you out

Shes the most willing of all of them to go to the others, here's her thought process

Vyn knows you by now and can offer the best suggestions of what's needed both emotionally and for the best learning possible. Artem knows all the organization hacks, seeing as he's found ways to combat his time-blindness. Marius knows college resources that are available to students and non-students and who to ask for tutoring help, plus he's paying for any textbooks you need of his own accord. Luke knows how to make learning fun or engaging enough without being distracting so you can stay focused but happy!

She's there with you the entire time, pressing soft kisses to your free hand when you get frustrated. She's making tea and leaving it on your desk, heading to another room since you're in a funk with being distracted a little too easily. She's setting break timers and whisking you away from your chair to feed you cookies she baked the night before in preparation for your study session today.

She wishes she could help you more often, but she'll take what she can get and takes pride in knowing artem's time management strategies are really making a difference

In the beginning of school, she walks with you to any offices of teachers you haven't met before to discuss the year's expectations, academic supports, and to get a better sense of them as a person

Kisses after every meeting and test! And while you're doing homework, if you're struggling, she gives you a kiss after every completed assignment

If you have an IEP and it isn't being honored, even after you try advocating for yourself, she approaches the teacher with your permission

Will go up to bat for you if you need things put in place since schools often push back on any supports

Wants to hear everything about your day, regardless if you're venting or happily rambling. She wishes she could tell you about her's in return, but it's all far too confidential.

Praises improvement very nonchalantly, and calms you when something goes wrong. If there's an issue with a grade or you're struggling, she tends to jump straight to solutions before sympathy. A quick reminder is all it takes for her to give you some support, but she never lets you sulk

After a hard test she likes to set up a romantic candlelit bath, complete with bath salts and rose petals. She's going to spoil you all night, no excuses!

Finally goddamn shes so far down,,,, this character layout is self indulgent lmao marius gets me started off strong with the writing, vyn fuels me thru, by the end of artem's section I'm kinda worn out so I'm happy to get a break with some sweet boy content, then it's all worth it in the end bc MC I am not only in love with, but I get to take more creative liberties w her

[shig-a-shig-ah]

GOOD CLEAN FUN

» pairing: chisaki kai x fem!reader

» cw: noncon, somnophilia, oral sex, medical kink, needles (brief mention) 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Quirkless AU! This was written for the BNHA Degeneracy 9 to 5 Server collab.

» wc: 5k

» ao3 mirror

Dentistry is a disgusting profession. It makes Chisaki's skin crawl, the poor care people take of themselves, and he frequently regrets being pushed into this family business of staring down filthy gullets all day, though he takes sadistic pleasure in refusing to be gentle with the worst of his patients. Why should he be, when they obviously have such disregard for their own health and hygiene? No, in those cases he takes great satisfaction in ripping the rot out by the root with nothing but pliers and his own brute strength.

Some days, though...some days there are patients like you, who make it all worth while. Patients who are clean.

You make yourself such an easy mark too, though Kai had expected as much after Kurono so slyly told him that he'd probably want to take care of the new patient in room two personally. Hari wasn't wrong; you're trembling when Kai enters the exam room, staring wide-eyed at the tray of neatly-arranged stainless steel instruments next to the chair in which you're reclining, fingertips gripping at the armrests. You're chewing at your lip too, as though your nerves weren't already apparent enough, those perfectly white, straight teeth digging into your plump lower lip in a way that's practically obscene. Even without a closer look Chisaki can tell what good care you take of that cute little mouth, and it's enough to send his cock twitching.

He takes a seat on the stool next to you as he introduces himself, careful to keep the excitement from his voice and to squint his eyes just right so that you'll know he's smiling even behind the surgical mask he wears, the one that both protects him from those much filthier than you and keeps you from seeing just how cold that grin really is. Your own smile is much more obviously forced, but he likes that you try - it's endearing that you're working hard to be brave even when you look close to tears with anxiety. Of course, he also likes that you're scared, likes that extra little bit of power over you, and that it will make all the easier for him to take advantage, because he's already decided he has to have you.

It's impossible for you to remember how or why this dentophobia started. You can only remember being dragged kicking and screaming to the dentist as a young child, your mother scolding you for refusing to behave. As you got older you managed a little more self-control, but while you can force yourself into the chair, you can do nothing to stop the way you shake and your heart races. It's only made worse by the obvious annoyance you face when practitioners have to deal with you; you know they think you're stupid or immature for this reaction you can't control.

The man before you, however, is smiling sympathetically, gold-flecked eyes crinkling with concern in a way you appreciate. He's handsome even with half his face covered, all bright eyes and perfect dark hair, and your cheeks heat up when he asks if you're nervous. You force out a meek nod, and he chuckles softly.

"No need to be self-conscious. It's a common fear," he says. "But we do offer sedation, if that's something you're interested in. It can help with the nerves."

Your brow furrows slightly. It's not an option you've been offered before, hadn't even realized it was a possibility. "Sedation? Like, put me under?"

"No," he says, chuckling softly again as he turns to the monitor by the chair and starts scrolling through what you assume is your file. "Nothing as severe as that, at least not for a routine cleaning. Just a little nitrous oxide to help take the edge off."

That you have heard of, but always thought it was only used for more intense procedures. "That's laughing gas, right?"

"That's the colloquial name for it, yes. It'll numb you some and help you relax. Although it might make you a little giggly, as the name implies. Some of my patients even enjoy it." Your face heats up again when his intense gaze lingers on you, not just with embarrassment this time, and a small titter escapes you.

Chisaki can't believe his luck with you, if he's being honest. You're exactly his type, and as he expected your dental records are flawless - never so much as a cavity. He's confident too that you'll accept what he's offering with as anxious as you are, and your reaction to his presence. He's not surprised by that; Kai knows the effect he has on people when he tries. Probably he doesn't even need to go through the great lengths he does to get people like you into a compromising position, but he enjoys the process. It's easier this way, with access to medical records so he knows what he's touching, and an army of sedatives to ensure he's perfectly in control of these encounters.

You only deliberate for a moment before nodding and giving him the answer he knew you would. "Okay, I guess I can try it."

The smile he gives you this time is actually genuine as excitement blooms in his gut. "I think you'll find it really helps," he says, daring to rest one hand on your forearm briefly. Even through the thin latex of his gloves, he can feel that your skin is soft, and he feels another pang of anticipation. Then he stands up. "I have to supervise the sedation, so I'll take care of your cleaning and exam personally. I'll be right back and then we can get started."

Your chest is still tight with anxiety as he situates you, arranging a strange mask over your nostrils and instructing you to breath deeply through your nose, but once you catch the scent of that slightly sweet gas being pumped into your lungs, the effects are almost immediate. The tension in your chest abates, your whole body going light and tingly, and suddenly you can't remember what you were ever so afraid of. When Chisaki tells you to open wide, you don't even hesitate, doing so immediately and sticking your tongue out slightly, making an exaggerated 'ahhhhh' sound and then giggling a little, though you couldn't say why.

"I can see it's working already," Chisaki says. He's unable to keep the breathiness out of his tone this time, but he trusts you're too distracted to notice. The way you'd opened so obediently, and the sight of your little pink tongue poking out lewdly has his cock hardening already, and he's only barely begun. He can't stop himself from reaching out, pushing that wet muscle back into your mouth with one finger, letting it linger on your tongue a moment longer than necessary to feel the heat of it before pulling away, but you only giggle at the slightly inappropriate act.

Despite his straining erection begging for relief, Chisaki still has a job to do, and he works with well-practiced efficiency as he goes through the process of cleaning your teeth. The anticipation is as much a part of this as anything else, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the buildup. He's not a masochist by any means, but these little self-denials are gratifying, only serve to make the end result that much sweeter. Still, he can't help but find himself occasionally distracted by the way you laugh every time he gives you an instruction to open wider, or tilt your head, noticing the way your chest bounces slightly beneath your tight top, and how you lie with your legs slightly spread, so inviting.

Normally he waits until he can render patients like you truly helpless before he touches them, recommending elaborate procedures that they don't realize are entirely unnecessary, but then again most patients don't request or accept sedation for such routine procedures as this. He reaches over to the tank of nitrous oxide, increasing the dose slightly and watching as you slump a little more in the chair, and then he reaches out to trail one gloved hand up your thigh and over your clothed center.

You've barely felt anything this whole time, aware of him working at your teeth but not really registering it, too overwhelmed by the way your whole body feels pleasantly tingly and numb, and it's only after he's ceased fussing over your mouth that you start to notice another sensation, a building tension between your thighs that makes you squirm, a small whine escaping you. Your eyes, closed to defend against the bright overhead light, flutter open, but you can't see him hovering over you anymore.

"We're almost finished," Chisaki says calmly when you whimper again as that slight pressure continues to build. "I just need to enter some notes in your file, and then finish the actual exam."

From out of your line of sight he can see the way you're frowning, your cheeks puffing up slightly with discomfort and arousal, obviously confused. He presses his fingers more firmly against your clothed cunt, palming himself through his pants with his other hand. It's bolder than he'd usually be, but for once he's struggling with restraint, just can't bring himself to wait until he's found some excuse to render you more wholly unconscious in his chair.

"I just...I feel a little funny," you whimper, and then giggle again.

"That's normal," he says, continuing to massage your sex, noticing the way your hips twitch when he strokes over just the right spot. "Some people feel numbness, or a little pressure. As long as nothing hurts, there's nothing to worry about."

You nod, letting your eyes fall closed again. You can't quite help your thighs from twitching; it's a strange feeling, the knot tightening deep in your stomach even as you feel so numb and tingly, and when it intensifies further you feel a stab of shame as you realize exactly what's happening, that you're going to cum even as you try to hold yourself back.

Kai knows it's risky, that all you'd have to do is turn your head and open your eyes to see his straining arousal, but he can't stop himself from working his pants open as quietly as possible and stroking himself properly as he watches the struggle on your face, the way you bite at your lip and obviously try to ignore the sensation, apparently ready to believe this is some spontaneous reaction to your drugged-up state and not his fingers working over you.

Despite the fact that you try to resist the sensation, the tingling in your body intensifies around your clit until your legs are shaking, the walls of your cunt fluttering around nothing and a mortifying whine escaping you. Through your giddiness, however, the humiliation is short-lived, nearly forgotten the moment you find yourself giggling at your own orgasm.

The sight of you quivering as you cum, entirely unaware of his hands on you, only further erodes Kai's patience. "I just need to take one last quick look," he says, and then without waiting for your response he's releasing his cock momentarily, using gloved fingers from both hands to pry your mouth wide again. You squirm slightly when he forces those fingers deep in your mouth, but he removes one hand just as quickly, returning those spit-soaked fingers to his throbbing shaft and fisting himself more urgently. If you can hear the faint wet sounds the action brings, he trusts that you won't question them.

Fuck, and he's close already, the sight of your pink tongue lolling against his fingers only sending the coil in his gut tightening further, and he shoves his fingers a little deeper towards the back of your throat, feeling the muscles there spasm as you gag at the invasion.

"I'm sorry if this is a bit unpleasant," he says shortly, too caught up in the way you look with his fingers probing your mouth to maintain that congenial tone. Even through the gloves he can feel the heat and wetness of your mouth, and it sends shivers down his spine. "This should only take a minute. You have a small mouth - it's difficult to see with your tongue in the way."

He presses his fingers further, not sure why he's explaining himself when you're so obviously unbothered. You're only nodding, spit running down the side of your chin as you salivate around his fingers. On most anyone else he would find the sight nauseating, but seeing your innocent face so debased only spurs him closer to his release. He squeezes his length more tightly, letting the spit-slicked palm of his gloved hand rub over his tip with every stroke, the fingers of his other hand continuing to invade his throat while you simply lay there and take it, and when you finally let out a moan of real distress at the feel of his fingers in the back of your throat, it's enough to send him over the edge, his cock spasming and hot spurts of cum shooting into his gloved hand.

The moment his cock stops twitching he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, stripping off his fouled gloves and tucking himself back into his pant before you can so much as open your eyes. When he turns back to you again, you're staring at the ceiling, grinning slightly with shiny, wet lips.

It takes a few minutes for your head to clear once he removes the mask from your face, and by then you only have the vaguest sense that anything about the experience was strange, and even then it was still vastly more pleasant than any of your prior dental experiences, albeit embarrassing in a slightly different way than usual.

Chisaki waits for you to seem cognizant before drawing your attention to the monitor by the chair. His boldness in touching you did little to truly satisfy him, only made him more eager to fuck you properly, to feel the heat of your tongue against his cock instead of his fingers, and to bury himself in that cunt that responded so sweetly to his touch.

"Your teeth are mostly in good shape," Chisaki says. "But I'm afraid you do have one small cavity. Here, see?" He points at one of your x-rays on the screen, a perfectly healthy tooth but he's confident you won't notice that, that you don't know what to look for, and sure enough you're only nodding, eyes wide. It's adorable, that fearful look on your face. He almost wishes there were a way for you to keep that expression when he has his way with you. "It's only a small one. But I'd recommend a stronger sedative for it, if your nerves are that much of a problem."

"Stronger?"

"It requires an IV," he explains, "and you wouldn't be able to drive yourself home afterwards. You'll still be conscious, technically, but you won't be aware of much."

The idea of having your tooth drilled into already has you quaking, the last traces of your buzz gone, and you agree at once. "Okay. I guess I can ask my roommate to drive me." She probably won't mind; you two do each other favors fairly regularly.

Kai's glad to hear you don't mention a boyfriend. It wouldn't matter in the end, if you had one or not, but the idea of some other man's hands on you still sends a jealous, possessive stab through him. He prefers to believe that he's the only who's touched you, that there aren't others out there tainting you with their filth.

"Great," he says, giving you another one of those reassuring smiles. "Let's get you scheduled."

***

It's a matter of days before you're back again, Kurono having conveniently found a 'cancellation' in the schedule to slot you in. He knows all about Kai's proclivities of course; they've worked together for years, well before Chisaki took over Overhaul Dentistry from his adopted father, and they've known each other even longer. Hari's stayed to watch Kai's little indiscretions once or twice, though he's more prone to lurking outside the door to listen shamelessly, knowing full well that Chisaki has no interest in sharing and would never permit him to touch what he considers his.

Chisaki is practically shaking with impatience by the time you arrive, has to take a few deep breaths to steady his trembling hands before placing the IV and pumping you full of Propofol. He's not sure he's ever been this excited about a patient, but this time around the eagerness has been killing him. He's always considered his libido healthy but not excessive, but he's stroked himself off more times in the last few days that he usually would over the course of a month, waiting for this.

You blink slowly, counting backwards until your words trail off and your eyes fall closed, and then Kai stands up, taking in the sight of you limp before him. You wore a dress today, a summery little thing that buttons from top to bottom, almost as though you'd known what you were coming here for.

He's already hard, his erection straining against the constricting fabric of his pants, but he ignores it for now and focuses on undoing those buttons, savoring each additional glimpse of skin. Your underwear is simple, white cotton panties with a hint of lace around the edges, and a matching bra. He likes them, simple and clean, just like you.

One gloved hand lifts to cup your breasts, kneading that soft flesh and then finding the bud of one nipple and rolling it between his fingers, sending it hardening. He watches your face as he does so - you're not entirely unconscious, but you won't react much, and you certainly won't remember this. Your brow is furrowing just slightly under the attention, and when he moves to toy with your other nipple he hears the faint sigh you let out, takes it as encouragement to shove that garment out of the way and reveal your pert breasts, licking his lips at the sight of the slightly darker skin of your nipples, and the way they've puckered under his attentions so invitingly. He bends and takes one in his mouth, laving his tongue over that stiff peak, biting down lightly.

A little whine escapes you this time, and the sound sends spike of heat through his cock. He knew you'd be responsive to him after the last time, but you're already exceeding his expectations. He tips his head slightly, staring at your mouth, those slightly parted lips.

He's never felt compelled to kiss anyone, all too aware of the filth present in even the cleanest of mouths, but as he stares at your lips he's surprised by the urge to do so. And he knows the risks are minimal, spent more than one of the last several evenings reading through your medical records, giving them a much more thorough evaluation than the release form you'd signed probably warranted. But he couldn't help himself, and now he knows that you take good care of the rest of yourself just like you do your mouth.

He leans forward curiously, encouraged when your lips press just a little back into his, even as your eyes stay closed. He lets his tongue snake out to trace over your mouth, probing between those lips, and you let another soft whine, though your tongue doesn't respond to his. That's okay; it's more enjoyable that he'd have expected and he deepens it anyway, relishing your taste, minty and sweet - obviously you'd prepared yourself for him. He grasps one of your hands and brings it to rub against his cock, panting as he ruts into your palm.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he's equally parts disgusted and aroused by the thin strand of saliva that connects your mouths, staring at it in fascination until it breaks.

That uncharacteristic impatience rears its head again, and Chisaki fumbles with his pants, letting his cock spring forth. He wraps your hand around it briefly, savoring the feel of your small, soft hand caressing his length, and then he moves on just as quickly. It only takes the flick of a switch to lower the chair down so that you're at waist level, and then he's tilting your head towards him, pressing the tip of his cock against those spit-slicked lips. You surprise him by poking that pink tongue out just a little, and for a minute he simple brushes the head of his glans back and forth against it, relishing the soft brush of your wet tongue, and the pleasant jolt it sends through him.

"You're a little tease, aren't you?" he whispers. Then, he pushes forward into the hot cavern of your mouth, swearing under his breath at the feel of you. You gag reflexively when he bumps against the back of your throat, but he only pulls back briefly and surges forward again, one gloved hand coming to rest in your hair gently, holding you in place as he fucks your mouth.

It's not tight without you actively sucking, but it's hot and wet, and the velvety texture of your tongue against him is more than enough. Despite trying to be gentle at first, he finds himself thrusting more roughly as his excitement grows at the sight of his length disappearing between your sweet lips, stroking your hair when you gag harder.

"Shh, now," he scolds to your unresponsive body. "Be good and take it."

It's almost as though you're listening - your head tilts back slightly to accept more of him, your throat contracting around him, and before he can help himself Kai's hips are bucking, his balls tightening and his cock contracting as his load spills down your throat. When he pulls away he can still see the last of his seed coating your tongue, and he spreads it around with his gloved fingers, entranced by the sight.

He adjusts his clothes a bit, not done with you just yet, and then circles around towards you feet. His gloved hands wander up along your thighs, squeezing at that soft flesh, and then tug you down towards him - mindful of the IV still buried in your arm - until your legs dangling off the edge of the chair. He spreads them a little, running one finger over your clothed slit. There's a damp spot at the center of your panties, and his eyes fix on it with great satisfaction.

"You really are eager, hmm?" he murmurs, letting the pad of his thumb hone in on your clit, the outline of that puffy bead visible through the damp cotton. You let out the faintest of whimpers, your hips tilting into his touch slightly, and Kai lets out a shuddering breath before bending forward and burying his face between your thighs, letting his lips move lightly over your covered cunt, catching your clit between his lips to tease your barely-conscious form, earning another soft whimper. His cock is swelling again already at those little sounds, and the scent of you.

Forcing himself to pull away, he works your panties down over your hips and off completely with eager fingers, his eyes fixing on your bare cunt. Your positive to response to his touches is all the more visible now, glistening strands of wetness coating your folds. He uses his thumbs to spread you open, circling your clit with two fingers as he stares at your entrance and letting out a throaty groan when he can see your hole clenching around nothing.

The sight of your perfect cunt so greedy for his cock is entrancing, and he repeats the motion. You're not the first person he's done this with and you certainly won't be the last, but oh, you just might be his favorite, so eager for him. He'd known you were special after that first encounter, but your response to him now is better than he could have imagined a few days ago.

He slides two fingers into you, scissoring them gently to ready you for his cock. He can hear the way your faint breathing has sped up, the skin across your chest darkening slightly as you grow flushed from his efforts, and when he removes his fingers they're coated in your slick. He stares at them curiously, tempted again by new desires, and then slides them into his mouth, savoring the taste of you, sweet and quite unlike anything else.

The throbbing in his cock is growing unbearable, and though there's a part of him that wants to draw this out, wants to savor it, there's even larger part that's desperate to feel that tight hole clenching around him. He shifts you again slightly, bringing your hips to rest at the end of the chair, the contours of the leg rest making your back arch nicely, those perfect tits even more on display, and he takes one in hand as he aligns himself near your entrance, pinching at your nipple hard enough to make you whine.

There are condoms in the pocket of his sterile white lab coat; he's normally vigilant with the protective measures, loathe to expose himself to any unnecessary risks, both hygienically and in terms of leaving evidence behind, but he's tempted to forgo that now. The notes from your last yearly doctor's visit stated you're not sexually active, and he thinks it must be true, that an innocent thing like you is too sweet to lie. Of course, because of that you're not on birth control either, but even that doesn't bother him like it should; it excites him even, the thought of his seed taking root and the surprise that would bring.

He runs his bare cock over your damp slit experimentally, groaning at the unadulterated sensation, and that's enough to convince him to abandon his usual precautions. Kai thrusts forward into your wet heat, letting out a strangled moan. Your cunt is so tight, so hot around his length, and god, it's so much better when he can feel it all, the intense wetness of your cunt creaming around him and every tiny ridge of your velvety walls. The way you whimper when he forces himself into you makes him wonder if perhaps he didn't prepare you quite enough - your walls are fluttering around his cock, obviously struggling to accommodate him, but it's not until he's nestled deep inside, the head of his cock kissing your cervix, that he pauses to let you adjust.

You squirm a little - small, feeble movements - and Kai relishes each slight shift of your body, watching your lips twitch. It's obvious you're trying to speak, but in your drugged up state all that spills forth is barely audible nonsense, tiny whines with a pleading undertone. He reaches forward to stroke your hair from your face. "You're so needy," he scolds, "but don't worry, I'll take care of you."

With that, he pulls out until just the head of his cock is still trapped in your cunt, and then drives himself forward roughly. Your limp body bounces back at the force of his thrust, your tits jiggling slightly with each of his movements, a sight he adores. He lets his fingers circle your clit again, can feel the way your cunt immediately clamps down around him in response, as though you're trying to draw him even deeper, and he gladly obliges you, slamming himself as deep as possible every time. You whimper more loudly than you have yet, and he can just make out your eyes trying vainly to flutter open, never quite succeeding.

"You take me so well," he pants, the feel of your slick walls gripping his cock so tightly has his balls tightening again, and he slows a little, trying to prolong the inevitable, not ready to be done with your sweet pussy just yet. He leans forward clumsily latch his mouth around one of those erect nipples, sucking and nibbling, noting the response brings, you throaty noises coming more quickly, the slight twitches of your hips growing more violent.

"So well," he murmurs again. No one's been this responsive before; he's lucky, honestly, if he can ever coax his patients to orgasm, but your cunt is flooded, obviously ready to cum for him, and it's enough that he loses the last of his restraint, rolling his hips furiously, railing against your cervix with every thrust in a way that's sure to leave you aching once you're fully aware again, but he can't bring himself to care. He wants to feel your release, feel you gripping his cock more tightly if such a thing is possible, and wants to fill you up with his seed.

"Are you going to be good and cum for me?" he asks breathily, and after another minute your body answers his question, your cunt clamping down, a quiet, high-pitched whine issuing from your throat as you hole constricts. Another few stuttering thrusts and his own cock is spasming, pleasant throbs radiating through his core as he drives into you one last time and cums, swearing at the almost unbearable tightness of your cunt around him.

For a moment he remains buried there, relishing the last throes of your orgasms and the way you're still occasionally pulsing around him. When he pulls out, he frowns at the distasteful mess his cum makes as it leaks out of your gaping hole, but it's accompanied by a shiver of satisfaction at the evidence of how he's claimed you for himself. Still, he moves on almost immediately to cleaning up, slipping on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and tucking himself back into his pants before digging out a handful of papery dental bibs and using them to clean away the mess he's left between your thighs. Of course, there's nothing he can do about the evidence he's left deep inside, but even that he still finds titillating, the thought of his cum dripping out of you even after you've left, of your cute, confused face as you try to understand.

You barely stir as he goes about this process, only occasionally shifting slightly or mumbling a little, and by the time he's replaced your clothes you're lying still, the tiniest frown is on your lips. It's almost as though you know your time together is coming to an end, and you don't want to go. Chisaki glances from you to the needle in your arm, and the still half-full bag of Propofol suspended from the IV stand. Now that he thinks about it, he supposes there's no real reason to rush you out of there.

"Hari," he calls out, and he's unsurprised when the door to the exam room opens almost immediately, knows how Kurono likes to listen. The other man looks at him questioningly, gaze flicking between Kai and your sedated form reclining in the chair.

"Yes, Kai?" he asks, raising on pale eyebrow.

Chisaki smiles behind his mask. "Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day."

[ask-a-vetblr]

Hi vets! Can you please give me a veterinary perspective on "factory farms" [and if they deserve the negative reputation they get]?

vet-and-wild here.

Yes and no. I mean, everyone may have different opinions but here’s mine as a former farm laborer and Animal Science grad. Sorry this will be long, I have a whole lot of thoughts on this. “Factory farm” is honestly kind of a scary buzzword people use to describe any large farm, but a lot of times it’s just used as a blanket term for large scale farming rather than being owned by a company. The overwhelming majority of US farms are still family owned. Some of the really big farms have the newest technology to decrease their environmental impact and increase animal welfare (i.e. methane digesters, robotic milkers, etc) and end up being more efficient per pound of product produced. Some small farms have a handful of messy, stinky cows that only get seen by a vet when they’re already super sick. I’ve seen both. I’ve also seen small hobby farms where animals are treated like royalty and large scale farms that are messy and inefficient. BUT, doing anything large scale tends to lead to welfare issues (for both humans and animals) and sustainability issues. The state of animal agriculture in this country is a hot mess. Farmers have to produce massive quantities of cheap product to make a living. The problem isn’t that farmers are some evil animal haters that want to poison the planet, it’s that they literally can’t make a living without mass scale production. That needs to change. It’s bad for the farmers, their animals, and the environment. So go after legislators and corporations that allow this to happen, not poor farm laborers.

Animal welfare, particularly for production animals, was a huge part of my degree focus so that’s the area I’m most familiar with. There are obviously a whole bunch of other comments that can be made about environmental impact and human welfare conditions, but I’ll let someone who knows more than me talk about it. As part of my degree, veterinary training, animal welfare studies, and job experience, I’ve been on a lot of farms. Swine, poultry, dairy, beef, meat goat, dairy goat, meat sheep, dairy sheep, mink (fur), and camelid. I’ve been to organic, backyard, research, feedlots, tie-stall, free-stall, large scale, petting zoos, heritage breed, and every kind of imaginable in between privately owned farm. Even vegan farm animal sanctuaries. I’ve been in meat processing plants and have seen first hand what the processes is. So I’ve seen a lot. And you know what? They all have pros and cons. Back when I was in undergrad we were using the Five Freedoms of animal welfare to assess animals. The Five Freedoms are freedom from hunger and thirst, freedom from fear and distress, freedom to express natural behaviors, freedom from pain/injury/disease, and freedom from discomfort. Farms of any scale can meet those requirements, or fail horribly. Personally, I think confinement housing fails horribly, and that’s a practice generally associated with large scale farming. There are actual benefits (i.e. less inter-animal aggression, tailored nutrition, easier monitoring), but you very much take away freedom to express natural behavior and I would argue freedom from discomfort as well. And you know what? I try to be objective, but my personal feelings are that an animal should have enough room to turn around and not stand in their own waste. I don’t think that should be controversial. Animal agriculture is (for the most part) failing horribly with enrichment and ability to express natural behaviors, and that happens to be very important to me as an animal owner so I know I project that onto agriculture. Some species industries are better than others (i.e. dairy), while some are so far behind (i.e. poultry and swine). I’m not vegan or vegetarian. I don’t have a problem with eating meat, but I think the system needs drastic improvements.

People honestly tend to focus on issues that are not really big issues because showing videos of an animal not being knocked insensible before slaughter is much more gut wrenching than a pig without enrichment. But you know what? There are multiple behavioral and welfare issues with pigs not being provided adequate stimulation, including increased tail chewing (which is why pigs are tail docked), aggression, and stereotypic behaviors. Whereas the rate of successful 1st time stunning in processing plants is actually extremely high, and needs to be to pass inspections. PETA shows a video of dead piglets and it makes people outraged, but the issue isn’t animal abuse, it’s poor biosecurity that caused an outbreak of porcine epidemic diarrhea virus that has a near 100% mortality rate for young pigs. That is a real example. People should be upset. They should be upset that biosecurity protocols weren’t followed. But again, a video of a transport truck not being properly sanitized doesn’t really make for a good animal rights video. Public pressure is of course important for change, but people need to actually take the time to learn about what’s really an issue. Y’all can debate whether or not eating meat is ethical, but that’s not the question here, and it ignores the bigger picture. The fact is, there are animals alive right now and that will be born in the future that are harmed by a shitty system. Personally I’d rather focus on relevant welfare issues to improve their lives rather than comparing factory farming to genocide or whatever scare tactics animal rights groups are using nowadays.

Ferox here.

Following on from that note, comparing animal agriculture to genocide is a particular pet hate of mine. Genocide aims to kill and therefore eliminate a specific group of people, which animal agriculture has caused the populations of domestic animals to boom in far greater numbers than their wild counterparts. The goals are literally opposite.

As vet-and-wild was saying, using a blanket term like ‘factory farm’ isn’t super helpful when discussing animal welfare as it’s specific practices within each enterprise that need to be considered, eg dry sow stalls, debeaking, etc. Generally it’s animal density which concerns me, as the more animals you pack in together the more stress behaviours you see and the less natural behaviours, and chickens and pigs get the worst of this. But it’s hard to make a choice as a consumer purchasing food as you can’t backtrack that food from the supermarket to its origin easily so I can see why the discussion is often boiled down to ‘factory farm vs free range’ even if it’s really more nuanced than that.

[seeker-of-the-stars]

Tfp Soundwave x Shockwave fic if you still doing request

It was Soundwave's job to pay attention to the little things, both with the Autobots and especially with his fellow Decepticons. Their conversations, their whereabouts, and who they choose to spend their time with were all essential to keeping the ship running and furthering their chances of winning the war.

It was normal, even expected to see everyone from the lowest Vehicon to the Second-in-Command break small rules every now and then. He knew about Knock Out and Breakdown's secret relationship before they even stepped onboard the Nemesis; he knew that Starscream would often say he was off handling "top secret business matters for Megatron" when he was really locked in his quarters drinking high grade, usually after being reprimanded or having a nightmare; he knew the Vehicons would stay up late every Saturday night playing poker, making bets over the only scraps they were allowed to have. However, Soundwave wasn't a snitch, nor was he stupid. For the most part, he allowed the crew members to have their fun as long as they got the job done in the end. Everyone needed their outlets, and siccing Megatron on every bot who dared to step a pede out of line would do nothing except distract their leader and kill what little morale they had left.

However, there was one 'Con that he'd never seen break the rules, not even once. Shockwave, who rarely ever left his lab, who worked tirelessly on Cybertron for millions of years by himself, even after thinking he was forgotten and abandoned, who never uttered a word unless he was using those words to further the Decepticon cause, caught his attention immediately.

Every night after Shockwave returned, he sent Lazerbeak to check up on the scientist, and every night she would return and show him the same clips; Shockwave working on the Predacon project. Shockwave asking Knock Out for a beaker or a tool he needed, but otherwise working in silence. Shockwave drinking energon while still laser focused on his work. When he did recharge, he did so in a berth he had placed down in his lab so he wouldn't waste time having to go back and forth to his quarters. Every once in a while, including that day, Knock Out would speak up and ask a question or make a suggestion.

"Is it really necessary for you to sleep down here? This place gives me the creeps," he shuttered.

Shockwave trained his lone optic on the medic, apathetic. "It is more efficient this way. You may go back to your quarters if you wish."

"But you barely even refueled! One cube a day for a mech your size isn't nearly enough. As your medic-"

"I am well aware of my own capabilities," he interrupted. "I am a scientist, not a warrior, and the work I do doesn't burn fuel as quickly. One cube a day is sufficient."

Knock Out looked as though he wanted to retort, but sighed, knowing it was useless. "Fine, but if you end up in the medical bay for exhaustion, I will be saying I told you so."

"I am not foolish enough to get to that point," Shockwave shrugged. After putting his materials away for the night, he set his internal clock to wake him up exactly seven hours from now. He then got into his berth, and turned off the lights.

As the recording ended, he could feel Lazerbeak's confusion through their shared field; Why was he so focused on Shockwave, when there were so many other bots onboard to monitor?

In answer, he simply patted her on the head and sent out waves of appreciation for her hard work. She leaned into his touch, and attatched herself to his chest. As he could feel Lazerbeak falling asleep, he couldn't keep the reclusive, eternally loyal scientist out of his mind.

***

The first thing Shockwave woke up to was his lengthy to do list for the day; the second thing was a notification that he was low on fuel.

Shockwave hesitated. Normally he'd send Knock Out to the cafeteria at noon to bring him back a cube of energon, but the medic's shift didn't start for another hour and if he waited until then it might slow down his productivity. In acquiescence to his body's needs, he decided to brave the morning traffic in the cafeteria to get a quick cube of energon. Instead, he was stopped when he saw something right outside his door.

When he looked at it closer, he saw it was a personal energon maker. Shockwave tilted his helm in confusion. It was dark purple and black; it even had two antennas sticking out that looked just like his. It was obvious that it was meant for him but why...?

When he picked it up, he saw a note attached to the bottom. It read: To Shockwave: hope this saves you time. From: your fellow Decepticon :)

Shockwave stared at the machine over and over, racking his processor who it could be from. Maybe he could test it for prints, or paint chips-

He dismissed the idea out of hand. It would be a waste of resources, and Megatron needed him to focus on the Predacon project. So instead, he closed the door, made himself a cube, and got back to work, feeling more energized than he had in a long time.