#Like I still don’t like the corporate side of stuff but back then I was like uh pride months are so cringe… no man you’re just jealous

[transgendercastiel]

hope everyone is having a good ✨✨pride month✨✨ shout out to. The gays

[lookforsomeoneelse]

sahsrau and the ways in which the game’s story changes pt. 1: Sigonia-IV

aventurine’s story made me sad. maybe this is my way of coping. got aventurine’s sister’s name from someone who talked about her on this app. also i’m making a lot of assumptions about how it went down, but there were roughly 10,000 avgins that were involved. also apparently the avgins are based on romani culture and I have no idea about that either soooooooooo cw for blood and severed limbs. and maybe gore. and definitely mentions of death. and probably my ignorance too.

Ecclesiastes 4:1-3

Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun: I saw the tears of the oppressed-- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors-- and they have no comforter. And I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been, who has not seen the evil that is done under the sun.

Kezia knew she was going to die. It wasn’t the greatest way to go down at the hands of the bloodthirsty Katicans, but what was honorable about it was that she would meet her end in the rain.

“Kakavasha must have escaped by now,” she thought to herself, “and he will survive.” Kezia held faith in her brother and in the Mother Goddess, Gaiathra Triclops, the one whom she served.

It was now time for the festival- and so she tossed her Knot into the bonfire as a sort of goodbye to this cruel life she had lived in, and lamented on her brother’s fate- he will go through many hardships and sufferings, but she knows that the blessing of Fenge Biyos will remain with him all throughout his journey.

It was a shame she’ll never get to see him again.

She regrets not saying more before their departure.

She had heard that some of the other bastard clans had made a deal with the Interastral Peace Corporation- the people who had promised to protect them on this very day- to make sure that they were all wiped out.

She held her makeshift club in her shaky hands. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. She had wanted to get married and have a family of her own.

And, for the first time in her life, her faith cracked like a shattered mirror.

The Mother Goddess had always let her down-

When Dad fell into the quicksand,

When Mother was caught and slaughtered like an animal,

And now, while she was facing down death.

She remembers one of the workers that came during that first day- praising the Aeon of Guidance and all their works-

And so, under her breath, unsure of how to do it, she prayed for her safety, she prayed for her survival, and most of all, she prayed for the opportunity to see her dearest brother once again.

As the sky wept for the fate of her people, the Katicans arrived, howling laughter emerging from within the storm.

do not worry child

Finding the sudden strength within her, she let out a roar.

i shall be forever with you

Her club slammed into the skull of a Katican, pulverizing it into a bloody mess.

i shall give you strength

Another near her tried to avenge his fallen comrade, and she cratered their face, producing a sickening squelch.

and when you are trapped in the darkness

She didn’t count. How many had fallen at her hands? 100? 500? 1,000? 5,000? All she knew was that the sky wept blood.

i shall bring you into the light

All around her there were the corpses of Katicans, Not a drop of her blood was shed, and nothing to threaten her in her vicinity. She looked down at her hands. Red. Her hands were red, stained with the crimson of those who had tried to end her life.

Kezia wept tears of joy.

“The Avgin always return back their blood debts,” she had remembered saying to her little brother.

It looks like they had a new debt to pay.

(A/N: I have no idea what the hell I just made. I have no beta reader, so there’s that I guess. I don’t have a structure either. I just made stuff up and used the wiki for reference.)

[artssslut2]

Moving Along

Art Donaldson x Reader

Summary: You and art bought your first house together and some other big things happen.

You stood on one side of the unmade bed looking across at your boyfriend who was still half asleep trying to help you make the bed.

“Can we just stay in bed all day” Art pouted looking too cute with his bed head and blue eyes.

“Art we have so much to do still, we’ve done nothing all week” you laughed, you and Art had just bought your first home together. You had lived together for a while though, you two would always sleep in each other’s dorm rooms, then when Art graduated and you went into grad school you rented a small apartment together. But now you were both ready for something bigger. You had recently completed law school and we��re working a good corporate job, and Arts status was moving up very fast. It wasn’t a huge mansion by any means just a little two bedroom two bathroom house in California surrounded by palm trees and beautiful greenery. You would stay until you outgrew the cute little starter home. Both you and Art have had many conversations about the future, it was obvious your guys were endgame, you knew he was going to purpose soon, you both knew.

Later on Art was hanging up photos in the hallway leading to both bedrooms, his gym shorts hung low on his hips, you watched his back muscles move and contract, you were unpacking dishes in the kitchen. You walked over and wrapped your arms around his bare stomach and chest.

“I love our house” you said into his shoulder, he flipped in your arms so he could face you

“Me too baby, how do you pictures looks?” He asked then kissed your forehead

“They almost look as good as you do working on the house” you said flirting with your boyfriend he chuckled and playfully grabbed your ass.

“The second room will be such a good nursery don’t you think?” He asked you slightly smirking,

“A Nursery?” You questioned, you and art had talked about having kids many times, you both wanted a family and couldn’t wait to have kids, but you didn’t think that would happen for a while, definitely not until you were married.

“Mhm” he hummed “We can paint the walls and build a crib, fill the whole room with toys” he told you taking your hand and walking into the empty room, it was no secret that art really wanted a baby, he’d always stop you when you’d see a baby on the street, or see a cute outfit.

“Hm did you check with Patrick because I think he thinks it’s his room” you asked only half kidding

“He’ll be okay, maybe we can do bunk beds” he suggested

“So when are you planning on this baby happening then mister”

“Well soon, after we get Married, so after I purpose” he informed you confidently, you blushed

“So when’s that gonna happen Artie?” You titled your head giving him Attitude, Art laughed pulling you into him

“Nice try babe, can’t tell you that though” he started walking out “Soon though” he said throwing one hand in the air. You smiled to yourself thinking about the future. You were so content with your life right now you and Art were getting older making a reality of the plans you would make in Arts tiny dorm room.

You and Art unpacked and organized and decorated all day long and you were both exhausted and very happy with your new home and how it was coming together. Art insisted that you guys go to dinner to celebrate this step in your relationship. It didn’t take much convincing from him you loved going on dates with Art, the fire in your relationship never died every date had the same excitement the first date had. Art took you to a restaurant right by the ocean you two sat outside talking about all the things you normally talked about plus some new stuff regarding your house. You had no idea how Art was going to purpose, he definitely teased you and would kneel to tie his shoe but make it seem like he could be purposing. You tried to put the idea out of your head you knew it would happen you were just eager to spend the rest of your life with him.

When you got home from dinner it was still slightly light out the sun was setting and was almost all the way down creating a beautiful sunset. You went to the bathroom and Art went out to your patio. He turned on the string light he had hung earlier. It was an adorable little backyard big enough for some patio furniture a hammock and maybe a small play set later on. If Art was being honest he thought about purposing to you 24/7 he finally got his grandmas engagement back from the jewelers and was carrying it around for almost a week waiting for a good moment. You walked out to meet him on the patio, he stood behind you wrapping his strong arms around you, sitting in comfortable silence for a minute

“We can put a play set over there you know” Art hummed imagining a little version of you and him playing in their yard.

“Your doing all this baby talk, you know you gotta put a ring on it first Donaldson” you teased. Art knew this was his moment, he unwrapped his arm and grabbed the small box out of his pocket kneeing down. Before you could realize what he was doing you turned around to see why he let go of you. There he was on one knee holding a velvet box out with both hands.

“Then will you marry me?” He asked in a soft tone of voice looking at your like you were his everything. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need too. You were so surprised you immediately squealed and got down to his level, you didn’t even look at the ring because it didn’t matter you would say yes no matter what. You grabbed his face with both hands with tears welling in both yours and his eyes

“Yes, Yes, Yes of course” you practically screamed throwing yourself into his arms. He wrapped you in his arms and you both laughed. Then you kissed, not like you had ever kissed before. There was so much joy and passion in this kiss you saw fireworks. He pulled away from the hug and slid the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly and it was beautiful.

“It was my grandmothers” Art said as you wiped a tear from his Cheek your breath hitched in your throat and you smiled. You had known arts grandmother, she died about a year into your relationship. Art was heartbroken it was the first time you had seen him really upset, he was very close with her. Giving you this ring meant the world to him and you knew it. Tears fell down your face as you smiled pressing your forehead to his.

“It’s perfect” you whispered looking down at the ring, He looked at it too feeling how full is heart felt,

“I’ve been stealing your rings so that I could get it resized” he confessed, you laughed wholeheartedly

“I thought I lost those in the move I can’t believe you!” You laughed and so did he.

You realized the sun was fully set now and the lights were the only thing that let you see anything. It was beautiful.

You and your now fiancé sat on the patio lounge couch in each others arms, you were both quiet enjoying the beautiful night still in disbelief.

“You better call Patrick and tell him, you know he doesn’t like being left out” you laughed looking up at Art, he glanced at you smiling

“He’s already on his way with champagne” art admitted and you both laughed.

About ten minutes later you heard Patrick ringing the doorbell over and over again Art ran to the door and you followed

“HEYYYYYY” Patrick yelled nearly jumping into Arts arms. Him and Art laughed and hugged. Patrick loved you, when he first met you it was touch and go he was really protective of his best friend. But as he got to know you and you proved that you loved Art as much as he did he warmed up to you. It sort of felt like Patrick was you and Arts first son. You guys took care of him more than anyone else in his life ever did.

“Welcome to the family!” Patrick joked coming over to you pulling you in for a big bear hug still holding two bottles of champagne. Art smiled watching his two favorite people get along so well. Patrick was overjoyed for you both, he knew how much Art loved you and how long he waited for this.

“My little guy finally grew the balls to ask you to marry him I can’t believe it!” He said ruffling Arts shaggy blonde hair. “Now lemme see old Lilian’s ring” he exclaimed. Patrick was also close with Arts Grandmother, even though she thought he was a bad influence on her “little Arthur” she was the only one who called him Arthur, it always made you chuckle hearing it.

You Art and Patrick sat in your half set up living room drinking champagne from the bottle

“Pat, how are things going with you and y/f/n” you asked Patrick, a few months ago you had introduced Patrick and your friend. You had noticed how alike they were, both party animals who were stubborn but very sweet deep down. Patrick would never admit it but he was ready to settle down, he didn’t want ten girls anymore he wanted one. He was ready for something special, like you and Art had.

“Uhh… good” Patrick blushed trying to hide his growing smile,

“Yeah?” Art smiled, not used to seeing his friend like this,

“Yeah. Great actually. Things are great” Patrick smiled shyly. This was the most he’s said about her. You guys knew him though, he was in love, maybe for the first time.

The rest of the night the three of you drank champagne and talked for hours before Patrick left. Then of course you and Art celebrated alone.

[velchronica]

the little things ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ blue lock

he’s not the best at the whole ‘talking about your feelings’ thing, or at least not the romantic side of it, but he loves you in subtle ways of his own

content: fluff, established relationship, aged up characters, gn!reader, sfw

wc: 0.8k

he typically walks fast. he takes quick, long strides and seems to cover twice the walking mileage that most people do in the same amount of time. damn him and his long legs.

but while he very much can walk that fast, and it’s probably more comfortable for him, he doesn’t. instead, he strolls idly by your side, fingers intertwined, without a care in the world. if he begins to pace ahead, he notices almost immediately, and slows back down, his footsteps matching your own.

you don’t even realise he does it, because his expression remains completely deadpan. you don’t notice his quick glance down at the pavement, or how naturally he falls into step with you. never straying too far from your side has become second nature to him. after all, he belongs with you, although it’s way too embarrassing to tell you that out loud. he’s not the verbally romantic type to begin with, so don’t expect him to go around broadcasting stuff like that.

when you’re out buying groceries at the store together, he sneaks in more of your favourite snacks to buy, even when you’ve sufficiently stocked up on them in the cart. even if he hates your favourite food—whether it’s the smell, the texture or just the taste itself that he despises so vehemently—the last thing he’ll do is deprive you of it. you shouldn’t feel obligated to not get the stuff you want just because he doesn’t like it.

while you’re browsing the aisles, he makes sure you’re always within his field of view, lest you get lost looking for a specific item. when you reach the refrigerated sections, he comes up behind you as you push the trolley together, his hands over yours on the handle bar, huddled up like penguins. he doesn’t want to see you shivering in the cold, even for a minute, and he doesn’t care if people give them odd looks as you point out a product from between his arms and the trolley.

and when you get to the counter and gasp, fretting that you’ve forgotten something, he sighs and almost rolls his eyes, but he still goes running to grab it before you get to the front of the queue. he runs like he’s on the pitch, sprinting past broke college students, off-work corporate workers, elderly couples, newlyweds, parents with brooding teenagers—everyone in the supermarket. everybody’s now openly gawking at the renowned footballer running through the store like he’s headed for the winning goal of the world cup, trainers squeaking against the tiled floor. he snatches two bottles of scented detergent from the shelf before turning on his heel and immediately heading back to you at record speed.

though he didn’t even break a sweat, and made it back to you with incredible haste, his heart flutters when you grin, taking the bottles from his hands and placing them on the conveyor belt. “i’m lucky to have you, aren’t i?” you laugh as he grumbles, taking you into his arms. “thanks, darling.”

and when he’s running late back from practice, he thinks of you as he’s driving home and pulls into the parking lot of your favourite coffee shop. he knows your order down to the smallest details of the random extras you like to ‘spice up’ your drink, so he orders that alongside a snack he knows you’ll like before heading back to the car.

upon hearing him unlock the door, you immediately get up to greet him and help take his stuff off him to put away. propping yourself up on your tiptoes to give him his daily welcome home kiss, you are pleasantly surprised by him handing over your freshly-made order. you resist the urge to tackle him, since he’s in the process of taking his shoes off at the door, so instead you opt for throwing yourself at him and smothering him with kisses, which is still an affectionate assault, but shhhh, neither of you are complaining.

“you didn’t have to, baby,” you say, beaming, “but thank you.”

he fails miserably at hiding his flushed cheeks. “it’s only ‘cos i feel bad keeping you waiting for me at home.”

“not ‘cos you love me, then?” you harrumph, pouting playfully, only for him to slither his arms around you and wrap you up in a bear hug.

“well, that too,” he relents, clicking his tongue.

“would you be willing to say it yourself, then?” you tease.

“no.”

“please?”

“(y/n).”

“mhm? alright, then,” you say, wryly, playfully prying him off you. “i see how it is.” you turn to walk away when he pulls you back into him, not done with you yet. he buries his face in your shoulder, the action muffling the embarrassing confession that he begrudgingly allows you the privilege of hearing.

“love you.”

you grin. “i love you too, baby.”

— ITOSHI RIN, (wc!)kunigami rensuke, itoshi sae, NAGI SEISHIRO, barou shoei + your fav!

© velchronica 2024

[katuschka]

Touch Starved Pups – Three

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader x Josh Kiszka October Special (But only because there's a Halloween party in this one. Otherwise, just a continuation of the story.) 5.954 words

Anyway, it you're new to this, welcome to Part Three of the story about what happens to two well-behaved, bored and horny romantics when a new feisty, worldly and hot social media manager enters the building...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): expressive language, promiscuous behaviour, petting and fingering (f!receiving), some heavy fluff, kissing, sex toys and teasing in public, costumes, alcohol consumption, a very brief mention of marihuana, allusions to continuous online bullying, being in denial of one's feelings

Also, if you like the story and want to get notifications for future updates, you can join the Taglist or see the Masterlist.

Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah

It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough

You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to love

There are so many pleasurable things you can do on a rainy October day, instead of being stuck in a conference room. Sleeping comes to mind immediately. Or sleeping with someone. Sleeping after having slept with someone is definitely the best option. Best-served with champagne and strawberries and a Taurus on each side. Nudge nudge, wink wink.

Naughty, naughty thoughts. I promised myself to abstain from that…at least for a while, because two horny Tauruses dogging me all the time were exactly the reason why this couldn’t be just a lazy Saturday afternoon. Oh dog, how I hate conference rooms. 

But who doesn’t, right? Well, apart from the people who have a stick up their asses. And by that I don’t mean any funny silicone shit. I have yet to meet a sane person who doesn’t look either annoyed or miserable while sitting around the long table in a usually cold room. Doesn’t matter if it’s due to the air temperature or the sterile interior design. All those meetings, briefings and brainstorming sessions have nothing to do with creativity and real work. The only ones who enjoy it are those who love to listen to themselves talking, which is usually the only skill they possess. Everyone else is just waiting for it to be over so that they can go back to doing something that is actually productive. 

Like…fucking, preferably. Oh no, not again. Be for real, bitch! F-O-C-U-S. 

At least this was the GVF headquarters and not some fancy-schmancy glass tomb that reeks of Ivy League jizz. That’s why I prefer working with artists. Corporate marketing is boring and often borderline unethical. Here,we had beer. Both Sam and Jake already downed two cans each, which made it pretty obvious that they were just as happy to be there as I was. I took just a few tentative sips myself, as I had to keep in mind what was at stake. 

My job. 

Of all the reasons for summoning an “emergency” meeting, this one’s the worst. 

I tried to ease my mind a bit on my way there by blasting Lucille Bogan in my car, but as soon as that bitch started singing about enjoying two dicks the side of a baseball bat, I almost screamed with exasperation. During the past month, I had tried to avoid exactly that. And for what? I was still pretty much fucked, and not the way I wanted. Damn, how I missed those dicks. But I’m a professional, and even though both of them kept begging instead of just enjoying their much deserved break and time spent at home, I was adamant. 

See, it’s part of my job to make sure there’s no significant online drama. And I obviously failed. You can’t really avoid it, it often spreads like a virus and there’s something new every day, but just like with any other illness, there’s prevention and treatment. Anytime something lasts more than two weeks, I’m bound to report it to the management. And that’s exactly why I’d rather jump in the snake pit today, as it was me who caused the most recent major fuckup. It’s been more than a month. 

So, I submitted all the evidence a week prior and expected to be roasted. I’m no pounce pony though, and I knew very well that apart from the most recent mishap, I had done a really good job in the last six months. High on caffeine and adrenaline, I sat up straight, ready to defend my job. 

“... so, as you can see, that one-time drop on Instagram and Tiktok is counterbalanced by a steady increase of all numbers – not just followers, but also various interactions – on all the platforms except the X, which is fairly specific and…” I expected Melissa from management a.k.a “That Bitch” to interrupt me eventually, and yet I cringed when I finally heard her annoying voice coming out of the large screen in front of us. It matched the face perfectly.

“Well, that’s actually the only reason why we’re even having this conversation. Stella, you must understand that this is a problem. While we don’t believe in strict policies when it comes to mixing your personal and professional life…and you’re all adults…” She both looked and sounded quite unconvinced by her own words. “... this has gone a bit too far. We cannot really tolerate any further damage to the reputation of the band. That’s unacceptable. Thankfully for you, you have significant support who put in a good word for you.”

If clearing one’s throat was an olympic discipline, a few people, both in the room with me and on the big screen, would qualify. That offended me a bit. I’m a tolerant person, but my sex life is not a gob of phlegm, thank you very much. Fuckers.

Anyway, back to business.

“Yes, I understand that, Melissa, and I’ve already made amends.” By making amends I meant that there was currently no mixing going on and I was going to keep it that way in near future. And while I at least pretended to understand why it was “unacceptable”, I wasn’t sure about the other two whom it also concerned and who were sitting opposite to me. To be honest, I had absolutely no idea what was really going on behind Jake’s poker face and sunglasses combined. Josh, on the other hand, kept watching me sideways through his ridiculously long eyelashes while his tongue kept polishing his front teeth, which made him look like he was constantly pouting. I tried to ignore it. “The new strategic plan for the next few months before the scheduled releases is also ready. So, whenever the guys are too, we can start working on it. The three most successful recent posts both on Instagram and Tiktok proved that candid content really is...” Aaaand she interrupted me again.

“This is all very nice Stella, but I want to hear how you’re going to deal with the current issue first.”

I could feel my blood start to boil. I did all I could, even though I didn’t want to, but I just couldn’t fight the nightmare! The best thing to do now was to direct everyone’s attention somewhere else. “Unfortunately, certain things are beyond my control, and…” 

“I don’t think your reputation and your problematic past is entirely beyond your control, Stella.”

My past? MY problematic past? There it was again. It was just a pinkie at first, but I had to grab my right hand with the left one to stop it from shaking. 

“I think that’s enough, Melissa.” It was Jake. No longer leaning back against his chair and acting as if he was in the room entirely by mistake, he was now looking directly at the screen with his left hand placed menacingly on the table. I loved when he was glowering like that. Especially when… focus, you idiot! Meanwhile, he continued, only to be interrupted by Josh, as always. “We all know – including you, I hope – that you can’t really choose your parents. I mean…”

“Yeah, uh, and speaking about parents, I think that if my mother doesn’t see Stella as problematic, then you shouldn’t either.” 

Oh Joshy, baby, that isn’t really helping, and… your mother?! Well, that was a bit embarrassing, given the…well, all of it actually. I had met their mom twice, so I knew she was no prude, but still. Yikes! “Your mom knows about this?” I mewed. I certainly didn’t want to emit such a high-pitched, screechy sound, but as I said, certain things were beyond my control. 

“Well, of course, darling, she doesn’t live in a cave” he replied nonchalantly, before he turned back to Melissa. “But also because she was notified about it, no doubt by the same people who keep sending Stella hateful messages. THAT is unacceptable and problematic. And I think that, um, given wha…uh…given the band’s message and all, we shouldn’t really tolerate when our employees are being bullied, let alone participate in it.” 

The room fell quiet. Both rooms, to be more specific. I didn’t even realize I was gaping at Josh until Danny’s finger gently pushed my chip back up. I turned to my right to look at him and he smiled at me encouragingly. They were all unbelievable. Sometimes I felt like Alice in fucking wackoland. I didn’t even know why I kept denying to admit that they were actually pretty sweet. ‘People are cunts’, that was my favorite mantra and the armor I put on every morning. 

“Very well!” Melissa broke the silence at last. “But I hope we all agree that this must be sorted out. And all I want is Stella to…”

“Ok, let’s not delve into this any further, because it’s both inappropriate and irrelevant.” It was Jake again. While mixing business with bodily fluids wasn’t “exactly discouraged”, keeping anyone from finishing a sentence seemed like a cardinal rule here. Why didn’t anyone tell me before? I’m quite good at it too when needed.

Jake was still talking to Melissa when he turned to me. “... the main issue is with me and Josh having a row or something, that’s how it all started, correct?”

“Correct…,” both me and the Bitch answered in unison, albeit with uncertainty. 

“Cool, so let’s work on that.” And with that, he leaned back again, resuming his previous ‘fuck-this-shit’ posture. 

“Ok…please, do!” Melissa breathed out, pinching her brow.

“I got some ideas…” I added hopefully to break the tension, even though I had N-O-N-E at the moment, because I was very well aware that even if we posted a series of sickeningly sweet shutterstock-ish pictures of the two of them going fishing together, it wouldn’t change a thing. I was still THE problem. 

“Fine, you better make them work. I don’t care how, just fix it. You have one week to come up with a plan, because we need to start working on the RAH teasers well before Thanksgiving, and it would be fine if you managed to boost the numbers even more before that.” 

“Aaaactually, we already have a plan.” It was Sam this time. 

“We do?” I thought I only thought of the question, but apparently, I said it out loud, because Daniel gently stomped on my foot under the table in an obvious attempt to stop me from saying any more. “Yeah, Stella. That costume thing you told us right before the meeting. We actually quite like it. And pardon my amateur opinion, but I think it might work.”

“Oh yeah,” I chimed feebly. I honestly had no idea what was going on and I didn’t like it one bit, but I also wanted it to be over already and any straw I could catch was more than welcome. “Yeah, the costume thing… Ok, let’s try it.” 

 “So…can someone please explain to me what you meant by having a plan?”

We were no longer in that stifling room. Instead, Sam was playing some tune on the piano in the main room while the twins sat sprawled on the couch nearby and Daniel was helping himself to another beer. 

While still playing, Sam turned his head slightly towards me. “It’s top secret. I’ll just have to come to our Halloween party and see for yourself. Believe me, you’ll like it.”

“I really doubt it. I hate Halloween parties.” 

In fact, I hate Halloween parties, New Year’s Eve parties, birthday parties and all that shit. Parties with a small p are just fine, but these organized annual celebrations of infantility often turn to a shitshow, especially when family members are involved. I couldn’t see how replacing sleazy uncles with your actual bosses could be any different. And what was the plan, anyway?

“Told you…” Daniel called while still rummaging in the fridge. Meanwhile, Josh stood up and was now trying to dance with me to the music. Trying is really a very fitting word in his case, because it was like being thrown around the room by a drunk chimpanzee. 

„Dear sparrow, it won’t be just an ordinary Halloween party. I hereby invite you to our night of debauchery and incessant frolicking. Yeah, and the play, well…as Sam said, top secret.“ Josh chimed.

„Don’t you have your own acquaintances to keep you company now we’re back from tour?“ They kept informal, friendly relationships with most of the crew, and I was sure some other people from our team might be there as well, but I didn’t lie when I told That Bitch that I was trying to make amends. 

Josh finally let go of me and collapsed back on the couch. „Ah, no… sadly, there seems to be a dreadful shortage of pretty dicks that would be able to satisfy my refined taste and wild, wicked nature.“

Jake looked as if he would throw up soon. „Don’t listen to him, he’s just bluffing. He’s like a meek lamb when in a relationship.“

Yeah, Jakey, I know, but it’s cute how you both always try to convince me otherwise. 

The remark, however, didn’t throw Josh off the hinges AT ALL. hE kept the facade without even blinking. „…and while I’m still on the lookout for a daddy that would tame me, let’s have some fun in the meantime.“

„There’s no shortage of cunts, though,” I chimed in, trying not to look overly amused by his antiques. 

„Yeah, well, too bad. I’m quite picky,“ he winked at me. 

There was no point in trying to argue with him. “Ok, I’ll think about it.” I wasn’t going to. 

Until…

„You really should come.“

I thought I was the last person in the building, with all of them already gone. I was just collecting my stuff, ready to go home too, when Jake’s voice right behind my back made me jump.

„Jesus fuck! Alright. Convince me.“ I didn’t want him to.

But he did. „Ok, c’mon.“ He grabbed my hand and dragged me back to the now empty conference room, because as it turned out, we weren’t completely alone. One of the assistants just arrived to replenish the fridge. Once inside, he pinned me against the wall, grabbed my chin and skillfully proceeded to convince me with his tongue inside my mouth. And so we were mixing again! Oh well. 

„Ok, ok, I shall come,“ I said, breathless, when he finally released me. As I said, he had been hiding behind his shades most of the afternoon, so looking right into his eyes now was akin to electric shocks. Sometimes I really hate them, you know. 

„Good.“ He closed the gap between us once again and brushed his lips against mine, but much more gently this time.

No! Not good! This was exactly why I did NOT want to go! Oh well…

My initial plan was to go dressed as Mata Hari, because sometimes I enjoy being overly melodramatic AND I prefer to slut with class. I was also quite certain Josh would approve of the abundance of sparkly trinkets while Jake might appreciate the fact that they wouldn’t really cover much. 

The fuckers had other plans. Not only did Josh send a car for me, obviously to prevent me from leaving early as I had threatened to do, but the driver also handed me a box with another costume. Inside it was a rather hideous violet coverall, not much different from those Josh himself was sometimes wearing, and a pair of steampunk welding goggles. The fuck… I snatched my phone and quickly typed a message. 

S.: NO WAY!

Baggins: on comeon, its gonna be fun. and gregory is instructed to keep waiting until you get dressed. 

S: Well, in that case he’s gonna spend the night, because I’m not going anywhere wearing that.

Baggins: yes, you are. or else…

It was followed by a picture of him holding a huge hammer and standing menacingly next to a chair, to which he tied Jake’s Beloved. 

Ok, I have to admit: He made me laugh. But I wasn’t doing it. Having seen my vulnerable side made them bolder, but I’m no lily-of-the-valley. This blood red rose has thorns. While my therapist would tell you that it’s his fault, I see no fault in that. 

As if Josh was distance-reading my mind, the pic was quickly followed by another message. 

Baggins: im serious!

Yeah, he wasn’t, but I got the point. They’d do some other stupid shit eventually. To make me pay. So, 45 minutes later we arrived at the huge house which the guys were renting for the party. Previously notified by Gregory, Josh was already waiting at the door, wearing a red hawaiian shirt and a clown nose. 

“Sparrow! My dearest!” He greeted me dramatically with his arms outstretched. “You look absolutely fabulous…but where are your goggles? You totally need those!” he added after he smooched both sides of my face. The man was already high as a kite and the mixture of weed and tequila attacked my nostrils with brutal force. I wasn’t planning on drinking or smoking anything for my own sake, which only meant that they would appear even more insufferable than they usually do. It’s almost impossible to interact with inebriated Kiszkas while sober. I never understood how Danny could cope. Well, probably because he usually drank just as much. 

I took those goggles with me, just in case, but mainly to tell him that “I’m not putting those on my face, Josh!” 

“Oh no no no, these go on top of your beautiful head, darling.” He took them from me and carefully put them on. I secretly mourned the beautiful art deco headdress I left at home. Eyes or hair, I still looked like a fucking mechanic. 

“Hmmm, yes! Almost perfect. All you need is…” Without finishing the sentence, he started fumbling in his pocket until he pulled out a pink lipstick and smeared some on the top of my nose. I didn’t ask… Exasperated, I just rolled my eyes, as I was glad he finally ushered me inside because my teeth started to chatter. He didn’t even flinch, probably already too drunk to realize it was actually fucking cold outside. 

“So what’s this shit? You dressed as Sam this year? Oh-em-gee, don’t tell me I’m supposed to be you?!” I exclaimed, tugging at the hideous coverall. He just chuckled, snaked his arm around my shoulder and led me into a large living space already full of people whom I didn’t know and didn’t expect. Not your usual rock&roll party.   

“Oh no no no, nothing like that, darling. Ok, let me… where the hell is Jake…”

Yeah, speak of the devil, he just emerged from the adjoined kitchen, deep in conversation with some old geezer dressed as Charlie Chaplin. Seriously, these guys are unbelievable. You’d expect some hot bitches here. Instead, I ended up looking like Rosie the Riveter, in a room full of country crooners. However, my eyebrows shot up at the sight of Jake in an aviator jacket and a fedora hat. “Since when is your brother a fan of Indiana Jones?” Josh snickered again. I was getting really annoyed. The truth is, Indiana Jones was hardly ever completely bare chested and I don’t think his accessories ever included a red party balloon. Meanwhile, Jake spotted us and beelined towards us. He tried to appear serious, but couldn’t really fight off the cheeky smile that was creeping across his face. As he got closer, I could see that the tip of his nose was painted black. I smelled a rat. 

“You look wonderful, Bebe.” He gave me a toothy smile and tipped his head. 

“No, I don’t and you know it. I’m still waiting for an explanation, as your goofy brother refused to give me any. Why are we looking like…”. At that moment, I spotted Sam and Daniel, who looked like Belmondo in his prime except for the enormous, ginger, fake walrus mustache under his prominent nose.

However, my mouth fell open at the sight of Sam, sporting a red turtleneck, fairy wings between his shoulder blades and HUGE, yellow ski goggles, except – unlike me and mine – he really had them on. He looked like… and then it dawned on me… 

Jumping from behind Daniel, he also moved our way to greet me properly. He was literally buzzing. 

… and I ended up on the floor laughing my ass off. Not a rat. Fucking chipmunks! “Oh my god! We are! Oh god, this is fucking hilarious!” I couldn’t stop laughing, while pointing a finger at the two idiots grinning at me from above. “You’ve no idea how fucking accurate this is!” I howled while Jake took a swig of helium from the balloon he was holding. 

“Oh yes, we do!” he squeaked and held a hand for me to pull me back up. I landed right into his arms and collided with him, still wheezing, but as soon as I felt his heart beating against my boobs, the amusement was quickly replaced by another feeling – one which I wasn’t really keen on entertaining. 

I broke the embrace abruptly to say hi to the other two. 

I said I wouldn’t drink, but I really, really needed some whisky real quick. So, with Josh leading the way, we all moved our asses to the kitchen, where I could inquire a bit more about their real intentions. 

“OK baby, I admit that this is both funny and cute, but what exactly is that alleged plan of yours? Unless you enticed me here to fight against a fat tabby cat. I admit Mel looks like one, but… ” 

“We got a photobooth here, darling.” Josh explained, as if that was any explanation at all. He leaned playfully over the counter until he was mere inches away from my face and whispered: “We’re too cute. I think we need a group photo. You can even make a tiktok if you want!”

“And how is that supposed to make things better?” 

Leaning even further forward – literally splattering himself across the counter – he kissed and patted my head, making me feel like a dimwit for even asking. “Well, first, it will show that we’re not fighting. And second, it will make it pretty obvious that we do like you.” 

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Please don’t make me repeat my question.” 

The whisky was doing hardly anything for me. I needed more buzz. I raised my glass suggestively and Jake quickly got a grasp. Standing right next to me, he reached out for the bottle that stood on the counter to Josh’s right. While his pendants swung right in front of my eyes, there was that feeling again…oh dammit! Seemingly oblivious to my internal struggle, he answered while refilling my glass. 

“It’s not supposed to make things better for us, it should make things better for you.” 

Poor little chipmunks. So pretty and SO naive…More fuel to the fire. And I was sure Melissa was going to be absolutely delighted. But, against my better judgment, I let my bitchy, vengeful me take over my professional side momentarily and imagined the backlash with glee. It had a good potential to become viral and the idea filled me with malicious joy… 

Sam brought me back from my reverie… “Can you punks please hurry? I’ll need to change soon!”

“What is he changing into?” I asked Jake.

“Jesus,” he rolled his eyes. “Mary Magdalene will arrive at ten.”

The photo session turned out to be quite fun. True, it was like high school all over again, but this time with the people that I actually liked. And being too old to find the costumes cringy, we simply just enjoyed the moment. When Daniel shouted “cheese”, we all howled with laughter. Yeah, it was cool. Perhaps too cool. I was getting too drawn to them again. 

So, when it was over, I was ready to leave. When I found Josh in the kitchen to say bye, I tried to blame it on the lack of debauchery. Secretly, I was glad there was none. 

“Ok, Josh, thank you. Those photos will be perfect and it was fun and all, but you promised me some shameless shit, and all I’m getting is a kids' theme party, so unless you give me something to stay, I’m leaving.”

I expected him to be disappointed. I did not expect him to be able to do something about it. Actually, he wasn’t sad at all. There was this strange gleam in his eyes that I knew too well. 

“I was getting worried you’d never mention it. Here.” Reaching inside the same pocket in which he was hiding the lipstick, he pulled out a small, rounded remote and handed it to me. 

“What is that?”

“Just try it.” There was a sultry undertone in his voice all of the sudden, which got me intrigued. I pressed the biggest of the three buttons and watched how his lips parted just a tiny bit. Astonished, I watched his chest rise and fall as he kept looking at me intently. Oh god… Away from the music, I could hear something buzzing, although it was barely noticeable. My own eyes widened in realization. 

I pressed another button to increase the intensity and watched him squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip to keep himself quiet, because we weren’t completely alone. What a sight. To help you imagine the whole picture, he still had the clown – I mean Dale’s – nose on. I took a step closer to whisper in his ear.

“You’re wicked, Joshua!”

Yeah…I stayed. 

“And it’s all for you…” I was sure he meant to sing it, but it came out as a strangled groan. I switched it off and took a step back, pondering over the power that I literally held in my hand.

Watching me examining the little pebble-like thing, he seemed to read my mind once again. “It’s your toy for the evening. But only if you stay, of course. It doesn’t really work long-distance.”

Can you blame me? 

I used it several times during the evening. It was fun watching him squirm during the most inconvenient moments. He even cursed me a few times, but I didn’t make the rules. It was his game and I just played it like a good girl. 

Lol, no. Not good at all. 

I must admit that despite my expectations, I was really having a good time. Sometime around midnight, Sam started absolving everyone from their sins, the Charlie Chaplin guy threw up in the ice bucket, Jake took off his aviator jacket and started jumping around the room while shouting “much better” over and over again, and unsurprisingly, Daniel really knows how to play the bongos. The rest is a blur, but nice. A few dances, a few stolen kisses from both of them, some touching…

Totally innocent, I swear. 

To tell the truth, I could feel my previous resolve crumbling with each new sip of the fiery golden liquid, and judging by how eager the two of them were to keep replenishing my glass, I think it was their mutual goal to keep me there. 

The huge main room got gradually quieter as the night grew thin, until it was just the three of us chilling on the huge couch at three-ish in the morning. Don’t ask me how that happened, because I’ve no idea. Everyone else had either gone back home or disappeared upstairs. I could feel the fatigue slowly taking over my body. I wasn’t exactly sleepy, I just felt like a rag doll. I should have been back home in my bed already, but I simply didn’t want it to end just yet. The place was now illuminated only by string lights, which only added to the tranquil atmosphere. Really festive too, almost christmasy. 

I closed my eyes for a sec, relishing in the moment of peace. My head was spinning just a bit after everything I had drunk that night (sometimes during the night, I switched to martinis), but it only added to the feeling. No one had ever done anything like that for me. 

“This is nice…”

‘This is nice’? OMG, stfu, bitch! This is not a tea party. 

But it WAS, even though neither of us could deny that there was a shitload of underlying tension in the air that made my skin prickle despite the serenity of the moment. Even that was nice. And I had missed it. 

“We were wondering…” 

“Which one of us is better?”

I slowly turned my head to the right to see Jake’s tilted profile. I expected him to continue and to kindly enlighten me what the hell they were wondering, but he kept staring at the ceiling as if he was looking out for God to materialize there.

“Uh huh, and what were you wondering, dear?”

Oh shit…

I took a deep breath first. “That’s almost impossible to tell, Jake. You’re different, each in its own specific way.”

“You sound like a kindergarten teacher.”

“Yeah, I guess, but it’s true.”

And it was. Jake seemed to have a degree in the she-comes-first studies, and by that I don’t mean just cumming. He wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without knowing that he absolutely aced it. Sometimes it turned into a game of dominance, but it almost always ended the same way. He can call you a “cock slut” or worse as part of the game, but you always know you’re being cherished. Almost as if he…no.

I think that deep down, he was a hopeless romantic. 

And Josh? He kept surprising me every day and ALWAYS made sure I was absolutely ok with everything he did, or wanted me to do. I never felt more safe in my whole life. It wasn’t always what I wanted, because I like surprises, but I knew it would make him feel bad. After a while I even realized that I needed it, which frightened me a bit.

Well, thinking about it, they actually had one thing in common. 

See, I was used to taking the things I wanted because no one ever gave me anything and I stopped expecting it a long time ago. And I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things they had done for me recently, even though they absolutely didn’t have to. 

It made me feel things that I absolutely didn’t want to feel.

And yet it was nice…

“You know Jake, you both excel in one thing, and yet it somehow can’t be measured. Or compared.” 

“Sounds like a fucking oxymoron to me.” 

“Ok, lemme show you.”

I fumbled in my pocket for a few secs until I managed to press the right button without them knowing (ok, ok, without one of them knowing) what I was trying to do. 

The feeble buzzing sound echoed in the silence of the room – followed by a gasp on my left – and as expected, Josh automatically snuggled closer and started nuzzling my neck. 

“See?” I smiled wickedly and increased the intensity again. Josh moaned and his hand slid down to my left breast, kneading it gently. Like a good boy. Always giving back. 

“You didn’t!” Jake straightened up to get a better view of his twin.

“I absolutely did,” the said twin breathed out against my skin, giving me goosebumps.

“The whole night?”

“Focus Jake, not the point…”

“Ok, so what’s your point?”

I tilted my head a bit more to allow Josh a better access and I also cupped his growing bulge. He moaned and snuggled even closer. I turned my eyes on his brother. “What do you wanna do now, Jake?”

“Kill him, actually.” 

Josh chuckled and proceeded to attack my earlobe, nibbling at it and breathing in my ear sultrily. I kept my eyes on Jake the whole time. 

“And apart from that?” 

He moved closer without breaking eye contact and kissed me softly. I parted my lips to allow him to deepen it, but he didn’t. Just a few more teasing pecks before he whispered: “Depends on what you want?”

“Yeah, exactly,” I whispered back. “That is the point.” I had been distant since the end of the tour, and they noticed. And while they kept inquiring and teasing and flirting, they never said that they wanted anything from me. I let go of Josh completely and straightened up a bit. And I also broke the mood completely. 

“This. I want this. I really do. I missed it so much. But…the job…”

“That’s ok.”

“Are you sleepy, sparrow? We can just go to bed. I mean, there’s a separate room just for you.” Josh asked in a low voice while playing with a strand of my hair, before he stroked it in earnest. Goddamit. Seriously.

“No…I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” I answered with honesty. “I mean I am kinda tired, but not really sleepy, no.” 

Yeah, that’s right. I had the opportunity to say that we should call it a night, and I should have done that. But I didn’t want to. And they caught that. I could see them having that spooky, silent eye-to-eye dialogue again, and after a while, Josh continued. 

“You need to rest, you know. And you also told me what helps you the most. Didn’t she tell you as well, Jake?”

“Indeed, she did.”

Gulp…

“The job is fine. You’re doing a great job, actually. And Mel knows it too well. But you've been a bit stressed lately. May I?” Josh pulled at the zipper tap teasingly, just an inch, and I whimpered and nodded. Yeah… So he opened the zipper completely all the way down, with an agonizingly slow pull. 

“No bra…that’s not surprising.”

“But no panties either, Bebe? Tsk, tsk…”

I was completely sandwiched between them and once again it was making me feel dizzy. As I tilted my head back, they both attached themselves to my neck on each side. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and a loud moan escaped my mouth and the fact that we weren’t really ‘somewhere private’ and anyone could walk in on us made it even more exhilarating. That’s what I had been dreaming of. When I actually got some sleep, that is. 

I expected them to tell me to undress, but they had other selfless plans. Jake’s hand slid down to where there were no panties while Josh set my left boob completely free and bent down to suck on my nipple. 

“Kiss me,” I whispered to Jake and he obliged with urgency and fierceness, swallowing my moans and biting my lip every time I had to catch a breath. 

But his attention was really somewhere else. Between my wet folds, to be more precise. He slid two fingers inside me and started working his magic, with his thumb running gentle circles around my clit. 

I kept my eyes closed and completely – selfishly – gave in to the feeling. 

I could feel Josh’s palm massaging my upper thigh. I could feel his mouth travel slowly up until he reached my jaw and as Jake finally broke the kiss, Josh swiftly took his place. 

I could feel Jake’s fingers curl up against my sensitive spot and I shivered. Lightheaded, as if I was high on oxygen, I felt like melting under their touch. Dripping on them. My breath hitched and I was barely aware of Jake whispering in my ear to let go. My back arched and my whole body convulsed when everything around Jake’s fingers exploded. I could feel them holding me. I could hear them praising me. I slept like a baby until lunch. But not in my room. And not alone. Oh well…

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @jazzyfigz @josh-iamyour-mama @sanguinebats @cheersdannyx2 @gvfstuddedmajesty @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @hollyco @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @watchingover-hypegirl @clownstarr @peaceloveunitygvf @gretasfallingsky @gretnavannfleet @solanjjje @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @blankvz @psychedelectable

[tarrynightss]

𝒫𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓍 𝓌/ 𝒬𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐿𝓎𝓁𝑒

Pairing: Miles Quaritch x fem!recom!reader x Lyle Wainfleet

Warnings: SMUT, phone sex (duh), dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism maybe since someone is listening to two people doing stuff

Summary: you hadn’t seen your lover in over a week now, and when you finally get to speak to him on the phone things quickly become heated. That wouldn’t be that odd, if it wasn’t for his friend being in the same room, especially when he starts lending a hand.

A/N: I dedicate this one to the amazing @nin3kyuu because she put the phone sex idea out there 👁️👁️

Music booms from the gym’s stereos as the Recoms work hard to maintain their physique, fangs flashing as they lift weights. It’s not needed as much now that they are Avatars, but old habits die hard, and their fingers itch to stay in action. You, Lyle, Z-dog, and Mansk are currently still going at it, the last two challenging each other to bench more and more weight, yelling every time they manage to raise the ridiculously heavy bar into the air. 

You throw punches at Lyle, the loud sound of your gloves hitting leather resounding every time you hit the boxing pads covering his hands. 

“That’s it, come on!” he encourages with a grin. 

As a field medic you were a bit softer than them, but your new body allowed you to push limits you never thought possible. 

“Low!” you shout and Lyle follows, squatting as he holds the pads out sturdily. 

You kick against them with a huff and he nods in approval at the sheer force of the blow. Working out is a nice distraction from the fact that you haven’t seen your lover in a week, Quaritch having gone out on a mission with Lopez and Ja. It made you feel antsy, rarely having been gone from his side ever since the two of you woke up.  

When you glance at Lyle’s face, he winks, boldly staring up at your lean form. He has never hid his attraction to you, gaze wandering and tone flirty when he found the opportunity. You look like an absolute snack to him at the moment, your hair pulled back into a singular braid and your body clad in tight gym clothing, exposing your gleaning legs and midriff. 

A smirk crosses your face, flattered by his affections. “Pay attention corporal or you might find yourself with a bloody lip.”

His tongue swipes out over his bottom lip. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Your long braid swings as you continue your workout with a chuckle, Z-dog groaning somewhere in the background as she almost crushes herself with weights. 

After a few more minutes, Lyle’s ears suddenly twitch up and he gestures for you to stop, quickly pulling the pads off of his hands. You cock your head to the side as you watch him fish his phone out of his pants pocket, having managed to hear it ring over the loud music and shouting. 

“Yhellow,” he says as he accepts the call. 

You cock your head to the side as you listen, trying to catch who’s on the other end. As soon as the voice speaks both you and Lyle smile. 

“Oh colonel!” 

You practically tear the boxing gloves off of your hands as you move closer to Lyle, your golden eyes twinkling in excitement. Quaritch must be trying to explain something on the other end because Lyle squints as he struggles to make sense of it, Z-dog chatter laughing and screaming at Mansk as the bar finally falls down onto his chest, the Recom unable to lift it any longer. 

“Okay- okay hold on, can’t hear shit here,” Lyle mumbles.

Your ears fold back in disappointment as he walks towards the door. You want to talk to Quaritch too! The damn man hasn’t called you at all so far. 

With quick steps you follow Lyle out of the gym and back to his room, your colleague humming and nodding in acknowledgment to whatever is being said to him. He rolls his eyes when you slip in behind him before he can close the door but says nothing about it. 

You sit down on his bed, tail impatiently tapping down on it as you watch him. From what you hear Quaritch is reporting back to him how the mission has gone so far, counting on Lyle to make the report he sent in sound better to general Ardmore than it does on paper.

“Yup, yeah, got it,” Lyle assures him before glancing over at you. “Yeah she’s here actually, we were working out-“

As soon as Quaritch drops your name you jump up, almost snatching the phone out of Lyle’s hand. “I want to talk to him.” 

Lyle looks amused at your reaction and chuckles as he allows you to take the phone. “Alright then.”

You can’t hide your excitement as you greet Quaritch, the other end silent for a moment before you finally hear his voice. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

You grin as you turn away slightly from Lyle. “How come you haven’t called me yet, huh?”

Quaritch chuckles, his voice sounding even lower through the phone. “Not the best connection out here. You know I would’ve called you days ago otherwise.”

“Hhmm… alright,” you say, attempting to hide how pleased you truly are. It’s crazy how giddy just his voice makes you. 

“So you were working out?” he asks and you glance briefly towards Lyle as you reply a quick yeah. 

“Ain’t it a bit late to be doing that?” 

“Probably,” you answer, the evening having already passed and most sane people having chosen to seek out their beds. You bite your lip. “I just have to tire myself out some other way now you’re not here. Can’t sleep otherwise.”

It goes silent before you hear him exhale with a slight groan. “Is that so?”

You were well aware of the implication you had just dropped, but played it off innocently. “Yeah, I miss you.”

“I miss you too, sweetheart,” he says and you hear rustling on the other side as he readjusts his position. “Do you feel tired enough now?”

You shake your head unconsciously as if Miles can see you. “No, not at all.”

“Hhmm,” he hums before the tone of his voice shifts. “Need to get fucked first, don’t you?”

You gasp and turn your back completely on Lyle, taking some steps away from him. Some thinly veiled teasing was one thing, but this? It caught you off guard. 

Miles chuckles at the scandalized little sound you made. “Don’t act coy now, sweetheart, we both know you wanted to rile me up. Now I can’t stop thinking about stuffing that pretty pussy of yours until you pass out.” 

“Miles!” you hiss quietly. “He will hear, I-”.

“-he won’t,” Miles lies. “Just focus on me. Do you hear my zipper?”

You do, the sound followed by more rustling. “Y-yes.”

“That’s because I just took my cock out. It’s all nice and hard for you just from hearing you say you miss me,” he groans to punctuate his statement and your core clenches around nothing at the sound. “Can’t wait to feel your lips around it again.”

Fuck. You could practically hear the smug grin in his voice, so smooth and beckoning you in to go along with this. You don’t even dare to glance towards Lyle to check if he has caught on, standing in the corner of his room with the phone tightly pressed to your ear. 

“I want that too,” you reply shyly, your cheeks feeling heated at just those four words. 

More groans fall from Miles’s lips on the other end. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that. Tell me, were you wearing that tiny top of yours to the gym, huh?”

You look down at your sports top. “Yeah, that purple one you like.” 

Apparently that was the right answer, your lover gasping slightly as he strokes himself to the thought. 

“Perfect,” he breathes out heavily. “Your tits look so good in that one. Want to cum all over them again.”

You can feel your arousal growing with every dirty word that leaves his mouth, rubbing your legs together just a bit.

“I wish I had you with me right now, feel so empty,” you whisper and bite at your lip to prevent yourself from making any other sounds.

You swear you can hear some wet noises in the background as Miles jerks off, his voice strained with lust. “I know, baby, you need someone to take care of that eager little cunt for you, don’t you? Dirty girl.”

A whimper slips past your lips despite your best efforts.

He chuckles breathlessly. “Well, tell me.”

You curl even more into yourself with the phone as you continue trying to hide what’s going on. “I- I do. It doesn’t feel the same when I do it myself, doesn’t feel as good.”

“Hhmm,” he groans in acknowledgment, a few more wet slaps being heard before he falls silent. He gathers his breath. “Get Lyle back on the phone.”

Your eyes snap open wide. “Huh?!”

“You heard me, get Lyle back on the phone sweetheart, now, and don’t you dare leave,” he orders, sending your mind racing. 

Was he going to give Lyle some excuse so you could borrow his phone and scatter off to your room? Was he going to just say bye and pretend nothing happened? Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire as you slowly turn around to face Lyle. His big eyes travel over your body with a clear hunger, the bulge in his sports pants practically unmissable. Oh, he heard everything alright. 

You don’t say a word as you hand him the phone, considering disobeying Quaritch and running off to go hide while you can. But you just can’t. You are loyal to him to the highest degree, and so you sit down on the bed as you try not to inwardly scream. You don’t even want to listen to whatever Miles is saying on the other end of the call, zoning out till Lyle speaks up. 

“Alright, you’re the boss.”

When you glance up at him, he approaches you with a smirk and hands you back the phone. For a moment you think that Miles truly has given him some excuse, but things were never that simple around here. 

As soon as you say hey, Miles shocks you with his words. 

“Take off your pants and underwear.”

You swallow as your eyes dart from an eager Lyle back down to your lap. “I’m sorry?”

“You are hearing that right, sweetheart. Take it off and get on the bed, I’m making sure you’re well taken care of,” Quaritch purrs. “Nothing crazy, you’re still mine, but I wouldn’t want you to overwork those pretty little fingers of yours trying to get yourself off.” 

Your heart almost jumps out of your throat and your heat rises at the prospect. You would be a liar if you said your mind had never gone there, with Lyle’s affections always having been so clear, but you had never thought Miles would allow something like that. 

“You mean, he’s going to-“ you start before your sentence trails off together with your courage, biting at your lip. 

“Finger you? Yes,” Quaritch helps you out with a chuckle. “I’ll be telling him what to do. All that is asked of you is to lay back against him and listen to my voice. Listen to me stroke my cock to the sound of your pussy getting fingered.”

How could you ever say no to this man? His words are like honey to you, irresistible and sweet. You look up at Lyle who now has one hand on his crotch, palming his erection through his pants to relieve some pressure. 

You swallow, sweet tingles running towards your core at the sight. “Alright.”

Miles releases a shaky breath on the other end. “Good girl. Now, put me on speaker and undress yourself.”

Your legs feel shaky with excitement as you stand up, Lyle watching you with a victorious smirk. You put Miles on speaker and lay the phone down on the bed, his soft pants instantly pouring through it. You keep your back to Lyle as you undress your bottoms, a sharp inhale being heard from the man when you slide your panties down. His hand strokes over your ass when you’ve stepped out of your clothing. Never in a million years had he thought he would actually get to see this. 

“Get on the bed, Lyle,” Miles groans, somehow sensing that he’s stalling. 

Lyle’s hand squeezes your ass before he obeys with a wink, still clothed as he sits down in his bunk. His legs are apart and he pulls you to sit between them, your back leaning against his chest. You squirm in need as you feel his hot breath fan against the back of your ear, whimpering softly. 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Miles orders. 

Lyle reaches over to lay the phone between your parted legs, smirking as your gaze meets his. “We’re in position now, she’s on my lap.”

“Good,” Miles inhales deeply. “Get your hand under her shirt and play with her nipples.”

Lyle’s hand is quick to find your exposed waist, sliding his big hand up till it delves under the elastic of your sports top. Your nipples are already hard, pleasant little shivers running down your body at every press of his body against yours. His bulge rubs against your back as his fingers find your nipples, moans slipping from your lips when he teasingly rubs over them.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Miles encourages you, lightly grinding his teeth as he tries not to be too loud while stroking his cock. “Moan for me. Say my name.”

You fulfill his wish as Lyle pinches your nipples, crying out. “Miles!” 

Your lust filled mind has no time to waste on wondering if Lyle minded you calling out another man’s name while he touches you, but judging from the desperate grinding into your back you shouldn’t be too worried.

“Miles,” you mewl again as Lyle continues rolling and pinching your nipples between his fingers, pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear. “Feels so good. Need your cock so bad.”

Your lover groans on the other end of the call. God you really do wish he was here to fuck you. 

“Want me to stretch that cunt of yours out, huh? Pull you onto my fat cock till you can do nothing but scream?”

A stream of yeses leaves your mouth as Lyle’s fingers continue building your arousal up, feeling your own wetness starting to drip from your cunt. He groans and bites lightly into your ear as your moans work him up even more. Your tail wraps eagerly around one of his thighs. 

“Please, please touch me,” you say, the words both meant for Quaritch and Lyle, making eye contact with the latter. “I need to feel it inside me.”

Lyle thinks he might have a heart attack as you look at him so sweetly, your delicious lips parted as you pant. If the colonel wouldn’t make sure to kill him for good, he would’ve risked bending you over and taking you then and there. 

Slick sounds come from the phone as Miles grunts his approval. “Do as she asks, but don’t put your fingers in yet. I want to hear how wet that pussy is for me when you rub it.”

You watch as one of Lyle’s hands leaves your breasts, traveling down your body slowly till it’s cupping your mound. Fuck, if there’s one thing you love about these Avatar bodies it’s the sheer size of them, even at your own staggering height Lyle’s hand covers your whole cunt. 

Slowly, he rubs two fingers through your folds, parting them and groaning as the wetness between them slickens his fingers. With the phone laying between your legs Miles can hear every little wet noise produced from the movements. You know it always gets him going to hear the effect he has on you, and so you make sure to confirm it verbally as well. 

“I’m so wet for you, Miles,” you purr, grabbing onto one of Lyle’s arms for support as he starts rubbing you more eagerly. “Want you to stretch me out.”

You moan and buck your hips forward as his fingers ghost over your clit, eager to have more friction there. Miles’s breath stutters as you hear him fuck hard into his own fist, enjoying the show more than he ever thought possible. 

“That’s my girl,” he says and a smile pulls at your lips. “Give corporal Wainfleet a kiss and I’m sure he’ll reward you.”

You turn your head to the side, lust-filled eyes looking at Lyle expectantly before he leans in. His mouth is hot and eager on yours, his tongue instantly slipping past your lips. This might be his only chance at this, and so he intends to enjoy it to the fullest. 

His fingers find your clit and you moan into his mouth as he rubs tight circles over it. It feels so good, your legs squirming from the pleasure that every stroke brings forth. He enjoys kissing you for a moment longer before pulling back, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips and a purplish blush dusting your cheeks. It’s enough to almost make him cum in his pants. 

You lean your head against Lyle’s shoulders as he pleasures you, moans and tiny cries of Miles’s name leaving your mouth. 

“Feels so good,” you pant, the sweet familiar tension in your abdomen rising. “I’m getting close.”

“Put -fuckk- put your fingers inside her,” Miles orders, his voice shaky and muffled groans interrupted his sentence. 

Lyle more than happily obliges, making you groan in disappointment when his fingers abandon your clit to drift lower. Your mood doesn’t last long, back arching when the corporal slides two of his fingers into you. They’re not as thick as Miles’s, but they are longer, making you see stars when he curls them deep inside you.

“M-miles,” you whimper, your grip on Lyle’s arm tightening. You want to hear Miles’s voice, want to hear him say how well you are doing.

Your pussy squelches as Lyle thrusts his fingers into you, not holding back at all now that he got the greenlight. His strokes are fast but deliberate, seeking out whichever spot makes you writhe against him the hardest. 

“Tell me how many fingers you are taking, sweetheart,” Miles chokes out through the phone. 

“T-two,” you answer, almost having to glance down for confirmation but finding your position to be too comfortable. 

Lyle still nibbles and kisses at your twitching ear now and then, his fangs scraping past the sensitive flesh teasingly, his own breathing rapid.

Miles tsks at your answer. “Only two for a slut like you? Nah. Put another in her Corporal, she can take it.”

Your friend obeys and your eyes snap closed in pleasure as another finger slides into your hot cunt, your walls stretching deliciously around him. 

“Yeahhh, that’s it,” Miles lets out a drawn out groan. “Can hear you fucking taking it.”

You had completely forgotten about the hand still on your breast until Lyle pinches your nipple, the sensation making you clench around him. Your brain can barely form a thought anymore as he fingerfucks you, panting wildly as you feel that same tension from earlier rebuilding. 

After a few more strokes of his fingers your cries get even louder, peaking both of the men’s interest. 

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum,” Miles tells you, judging from the way he sounds not far behind you. 

You are quite the sight to Lyle as your body trembles under his touch, his own cock now so hard it’s almost painful. He rubs it against your back more eagerly, pushing you back against him with the hand on your chest. Something about the added lewdness of getting grinded on by a man while your boyfriend’s moans pour from the phone sets you over the edge, screaming it out to Miles as your walls spasm around Lyle’s fingers. 

“That’s it, good girl. Did so well, sweetheart.”

You barely register Miles’s voice as your orgasm washes over you, Lyle’s fingers continuing to stroke that sweet spot inside you throughout it. 

“Just a little more, -aahh- need to cum too. Want you to tell me what I should do to you when I’m back,” Miles’s speech sounds slurred as he approaches his orgasm. 

It’s hard to string any words together as Lyle continues fucking you on his fingers, your cunt still throbbing from your orgasm, but you manage to let your thoughts flow freely. “Want you to pin me against the wall -ah!- and fuck me from behind. Want you to take me till I’m sore and filled with your cum! -Fuck, ahh- Please, Miles!” 

That’s enough for him, groaning loudly into the phone as he spills his release into his own hand, imagining it's your tight heat instead. “F-fuck, sweetheart.”

The speed of Lyle’s fingers wind down until he’s still inside you, more sloppy kisses pressed against the back of your ear and the side of your face as you pant.

Miles has to gather himself for a moment, taking deep breaths before he speaks again. “A-alright, take them out.”

You whimper as Lyle’s fingers leave your cunt, almost a little disappointed that this is where it ends. When he moves them past you you see how much of your arousal is coating his fingers, but he doesn’t seem to mind, sticking them into his mouth without hesitation. He groans as he licks them clean. 

The only thing that manages to rip your eyes away from the sight is Miles’s voice as he calls your name. 

“Yes?”

“Unless he is neutered, I’m guessing our friend there has found himself in a real pickle right about now,” Miles says, his cocky smile recognizable in his voice.

You lean forward slightly and look back at Lyle, eyes traveling over his body until you reach the bulge in his pants. The material is about as stretched as it could be, a small wet patch staining where the head of his cock is pressed up against it. “Quite.” 

Miles chuckles breathily through the phone. “Relieve him, but just with your hands. Don’t want your mouth to go anywhere near him except if it’s for a kiss.”

Lyle’s eyes go wide as you grab the phone, a wicked smile playing at your lips as you fully turn around to face him. You inch closer till your lips touch his, the way you kiss him in such a teasing, soft manner making him groan low in his throat. You hold the phone next to your face, giggling. 

“Yes, sir.”

[bestworstcase]

Are you worried about Viz taking over RWBY? I’ve heard Kerry is still going to be involved in some capacity but that’s ambiguous. What about the other writers and creatives as well? Works like this are never written/realized by one man, it’s the collective hard work of the group. A lot of the intricacies you’ve teased out of RWBY, and their culmination in the narrative, rely on the same team (or some of them) being involved going forward. Where are you at on this rn?

really seems like the best case scenario honestly – kerry being the showrunner is obv the one taking point on the negotiations but it seems like the rest of the core crew and cast are being kept in the loop at minimum, though i’d bet contracts and production logistics are still being worked out behind the scenes. on the viz side they are clearly REALLY excited about the IP and kerry being involved decision-making for the show’s future is a pretty firm signal of intent to preserve the original vision and direction for the show, plus i would assume keeping the crew and cast together to the greatest degree possible is probably kerry’s biggest priority rn now that the first hurdle of finding rwby a new home has been cleared.

the ambiguity is 100% because nothing is settled yet aside from what’s been announced. it is frankly shocking that they closed the deal on the IP this fast—i know two months feels like a really long time when you’re waiting for news, but corporate acquisitions of any kind are not like picking up milk at a grocery store. just from a strictly financial standpoint everything needs to go through accounting and depending on how viz is structured treasury might have needed to sign off too, so that’s financial projections and budgeting that needs to happen and pass through multiple different layers of approval potentially across two different departments on top of legal and whatever specific considerations other departments may have had; there are a lot of moving pieces that have to be lined up just so. i was really, really confident that rwby would get picked up pretty quickly but if you’d asked me after the shut down announcement i would have told you six months to a year because that’s, in my experience, about how long this sort of thing takes if nobody is dragging their feet.

two months is fuckin wild.

but by the same token, yeah everyone involved with this deal is going to be up to their eyeballs in paperwork and meetings for at least a few more months before we get any concrete new announcements, and nothing is getting announced to the public until it’s settled because you don’t want to be announcing things that aren’t locked in yet. that includes basic stuff like whether the original VAs stay on—there is absolutely no reason to think that, say, lindsay won’t keep their role as ruby, but we are not going to hear that until they’ve signed a contract, which may still be months away. similarly there is no reason to think that viz acquired the IP without every intention to greenlight v10, but we are not going to hear a v10 announcement until all the production logistics and legal and financial decisions have been squared away.

just keep in mind that corporations move like glaciers and the two months between the RT shutdown announcement and viz snapping up both the IP and the showrunner means this is all happening at breakneck speed, suggesting that everyone with decision-making power at viz is incandescently excited to get this show back on the road. it’s in good hands, they’re hustling, we’re probably on track for v10 news sometime this fall.

[choclodox]

Lyle’s IQ score Head Canon

HEAR ME OUT: as much as Lyle def gives me himbo™️ energy, I also feel like he’s supposed to be…PRETTY SMART? he’s just also goofy. Like, I feel like he’s one of those friends that’s the smartest but also the dumbest person you’ve ever had at the same time.

Here is my evidence (dons glasses and grabs a laser pointer)

1. First and foremost, I’m pretty sure Quaritch wouldn’t let a dumbo be able to advance to the rank of Corporal, so Lyle needs to have SOME level of competency (but there’s still some room for his goofball nature lol).

Side note, studies show that people who are comical tend to have higher IQs since it ranks critical thinking to understand humor and make jokes. So Lyle is at least smart in that department.

2. In the first movie, we can see that Trudy trusts him enough to work on her Samson. We all know how much Trudy LOVED her Baby, so she must have had some serious trust in Lyle (someone who wasn’t an RDA mechanic) to let him even TOUCH her Rogue One’s equipment.

3. Also in the first movie, Lyle actually knows his stuff about combat theory and the AMP suits. When Quaritch has Lyle survey the aftermath of the Omatikaya’s retaliation for the destruction of the Tree of Voices, Lyle is able to describe in detail what the damages are. He’s able to tell that the arrows were fired from Ikrans based off the angles of the arrows in the damaged equipment and dead bodies, he can say for a fact that the AMP suits are not just damaged but what exactly is damaged (the Driver in this case).

4. Now in the 2nd movie, we actually get to see more of his smarts come into action. Lyle actually gets promoted from Corporal to Lieutenant and becomes second in command to Quaritch. The RDA wouldn’t let that happen if he was purely a trigger happy soldier; you needs some gray matter for that position.

5. Next, Quaritch looks to LYLE to pull the security feed off of OG Quaritch’s AMP suit. And Quaritch is a smart guy too, but it feels like Big Curly Q knows he’s out of his depth on this one and just hands it off to Lyle because he knows that he actually knows his stuff.

But ya, thanks for coming to my TedTalk :)

Also, a few other hcs I embrace

Lyle is that ONE gringo friend that knows FLUENT Spanish (and possibly knows other languages as well). And when I say Gringo, I don’t mean he’s white but is still Hispanic, no. There is a reason why JamCam named this man after Wainfleet, Ohio (the Ohio of Ohio). But nobody questions his ability to speak Spanish. You leave him alone in any Authentic Hispanic setting and come back in 20 minutes, they’re running to the liquor store because they already ran out of Tequila/pisco/etc. TEAM LATINO LOVES HIM

*side note, Jake probably knows some Spanish too since he did his tours in Venezuela. Who knows, maybe he taught some to Spider because he knows he’s team Latino. A

*and Quaritch probably knows some of Nigeria’s native languages (Hausa, Yoruba, Igbo, etc) since he did 3 whole tours there before coming to Pandora

Lyle likes 90s music (Britney Spears, Mariah Carey) but mainly SHAKIRA. I could see him just dancing alone to Hips Don’t Lie and someone walks in trying to get his attention, but he doesn’t notice and they have to clear their throat and he just screams when he finally notices them

He can dance Samba, Cumbia, Tango, Flamenco. ANYTHING in that family HE CAN DO IT FLAWLESSLY ASU PAPI

Might come from a family of mechanics and worked in a mom and pop mechanic shop (I embrace that one HC where he has a love for cars and just engineering in general). Maybe he wanted to be a more refined engineer but just couldn’t pass the tests since he was more of an intuitive thinker and tests favor more of the technical thinkers.

Likes DragonBall Z but will never admit it

[itsanotheridiot]

Alrightly as someone who owns LiS, BTS, LiS 2, and TC. I also had given the benefit of the doubt to DeckNine but after seeing multiple clips and leaked information about development from a confirmed ex employee of DN I am officially not buying double exposure.

For anyone in the unknown or don’t want to read my long rant. TLDR: Life is Strange felt victims to Corporation greed ruining game franchise and character alienation

Also side note I do have to be vague about specific of the leaked content due to post with it getting taken down. Also DO NOT HARASS THE VOICE ACTORS OR DEVELOPERS BLAME DECKNINE, SQUARE ENIX, NARRATIVE TEAM AND EXECUTIVES

First thing first the narrative team did not give a fuck about the game from the starts and didn’t do any research and never attempted to understand the characters or their stories so yup just bringing max back for one big old cashgrab and due to their egos of a executive producer and the lack of media analysis and literacy from the narrative team they decided to cut Chloe from the story all together but should we be surprised this is coming from the DN the company that had a controversy about one of their developers trying to sneak into racist symbols into the game and DN who fought against their team from having Alex be the first confirmed bi lead in LiS (saying this cause it’s obvious the male love interest Warren, Elliot ,and Finn was there to appeal to audience but their interest with the lead isn’t as flesh out as the women love interest Chloe, Rachel, and Cassidy)

Anyways How did they write Chloe out you may ask? They had Chloe tell max “she can’t move on so I has to go” and broke them up like that is the most OOC shit ever Chloe the girl who journal entries from 5 years in the form unsend letters to Max. Chloe who canonically in the comic waits 2 years for max to come back to her.

There is a reason they are called partners in time their relationship is crucial to the story and their characters arcs they are linked to take away one of them fundamentally breaks the story because the relationship is at the center of it all

Now I am aware some argue the sacrificing Bae is the moral choice but canonical max by the time of episode 5 wants the town to burn and everyone in it she doesn’t care anymore max is more fucked up then people allow her to be cause she is quiet but while we would sacrificed the bae. Max would never. And trust me this is from someone who also sacrificed Bae but I still understand how important Chloe is to Max’s character

These are a few canon max journals entries these ain’t even all the evidence max has dialogue expressing disgust and hatred for Acadia Bay.

While yes LiS handles heavy topics and tells stories about children with supernatural powers that’s what it is a story and what makes a good story is characters relationship that’s what we connect with not the that’s what makes these heavy topics more personal or easier to handle

LiS wouldn’t be what it is without Chloe and Max’s relationship

LiS 2 wouldn’t be a good story without the wolf brother relationship

BTS expanded the amberprice relationship to make the reveal in the original game hit harder

TC was a interesting case because Alex didn’t have any connects but throughout the story she builds some

LiS is about outcasts craving and finding connect in extreme situations chaos was happening but love still prevailed (romantic, platonic, familial) 

Now away from all the shipping stuff for the moment. The writing in DE from the footage I seen is something like the way they try to make the game seem mature is by making sexual jokes targeted at max but it feels like they are trying to be adult like it feels like jojo siwa’s rebrand the being super sexual because that’s adult like no that’s not (also I’m aware people who experience sexual violence could become hyper sexual due to the trauma but from what I seen in the leaked footage this ain’t it) The pacing is also wonky from what I seen stuff that needed time to set in didn’t get that or they breeze by quickly.

Like comparing DeckNine’s LiS games (BTS and TC) to DONTNOD (LiS and LiS2). BTS to me kinda feel like a fanfic they had a whole game to build off of and expanded on the complexities of the Amberprice relationship which I did really enjoy while having Rachel father be a DA was definitely a writing choice it was vague enough where we can ignore it and it didn’t break the base of LiS too much just made little plot holes Now TC I do think TC is a decent game but is also the blandest out of the LiS games there was a lot of missing potential I feel like they could have done but it does work enough and gave us some nice lore like explaining why Steph and Mike wasn’t in the original game they were out of town or wasn’t at the school. Nice little story moments without stepping on the original too much.

Making a sequel with a beloved character like was a super risky choice one they could have achieved if they had actually cared about the stories and characters. I genuinely thought DeckNine was just hiding Chloe and we was going to get the memorable detective duo again and we could have had a very interesting story about a traumatized max regretting her decision all those years ago and exploring different timelines to revalue if she made the right choice that could have been a good way to expand of how the OG story effect the characters while still respecting both ends but also respecting who the characters are at their core

My last point is also how disrespectful the oversexualized and axing of pricefield is. I would like to remind you that LiS came out in 2015 this was around the time female gaming and female characters in video games were started to be taken seriously JMax and Luc even revealed how at the time Square Enix who gave the game a chance with a female lead that looked like a normal teenage

Also because this game came out in 2015 It was a massive achievement for the LGBT+ community a video game with explicit queer content at the center of the story won 3 categories at the game awards. At the global game awards it won 2 categories and came in second for globe game of the year. life is strange won 6 awards at the golden joystick. That was massive process in 2015 especially since LiS came out January 30, 2015. Gay marriage wasn’t even legal then gay content was barely anywhere this was a important game to people at the time and still is. It’s hard to imagine that now considering how much progress and content we have now.

Double exposure had so much potential I feel like there was so many interesting ideas the fandom has only to learn the game never stood a chance from the start because of a bunch of greedy egocentric executives that would rather destroy the hearts of their story than make a good game

I guess the only bright side is that alternate universe exist in life is strange in a different universe we didn’t get this shit cash grab game we actually got a game that how real love and care put into it the characters weren’t alienated and the heart wasn’t torn out in alternate universe pricefield is thriving after everything romantic or not

[oozedninjas]

2007 TMNT GROWN UPS HC

Because they have a life outside of crimefighting, you know?

sfw

----

DONNIE

He got into college, got a degree in systems engineering and works from home as a programmer for an important corporation.

Uses an IA to generate a human-Like appearance for work meetings.

He’s the one with the highest income and the most uninterested in money. Donnie supports his family a lot in that sense.

After Leo, Donnie is the one who takes good care of Master Splinter, who fortunately never falls sick, but they worry nonetheless.

Donnie spends almost all he makes on his lab, and what he’s left he invests it on their home, which means: new, much more comfortable furniture, a new security system to protect the lair, escape routes in case of needing to, he made sure each of them had a comfortable space to sleep.

RAPHAEL

When learnt how to take care of his bike when working as the night watcher, so I picture him making money as a mechanic.

When he’s not fighting crime at night, Raph tends a mechanical workshop he build in association with Casey. It’s located in an abandoned garage near the lair.

Generally, Casey makes the deals, brings the clients, and delivers the vehicles back to them once they’re done, while Raph does the mechanics and fixes everything.

The place is a nice distraction and thanks to the marvelous work they make, it’s a nice business.

MIKEY

I think he would most likely be a TikTok celebrity.

It all started with couple of videos that he published by mistake and went viral.  

He constructed his personal brand around body painting, animal-care, and skateboarding.

Mikey’s a hit, seriously like he would get nice brand colabs and receive a bunch of free stuff for him to test and provide online opinions.

Master splinter wasn’t happy about it, but given that everyone thought it was a costume, he allowed it.

Donnie was commanded with the task of making an IA human-like appearance for Mikey, tho, just to be sure.

LEO

The turtle team still exists, fewer times now than before, cause life changes and they don’t have as much time on their hands now as they did when they were younger. Yet, Leo can’t help but feel lonely at times.

Training at the dojo and glimpsing back to see the Lab’s lights on and meet the silence of the house without Mikey and Raph.

Master Splinter’s no. 1 caretaker.

I think that as all his brothers progressively grew older, Leo started to note his only purpose until now had been his brothers: standing as a leader for them, protecting them, taking care of them, and being responsible for them.

What does he truly enjoy? Leo starts to wonder.

And this is Leo's best age to discover what he's into and show a wilder side of himself. He feels complete.

He loves exploring new things!

Leo became a teacher after settling down. He teaches Japanese history and martial arts online.

Donnie helped him develop an app, and everything's going alright.

[sfblah]

The Cleanup Crew - Chapter 3

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

Finally it's time to get dangerous. This is almost twice the length of the previous chapters, which is like fine, but I was originally hoping to keep installments in this series on the shorter side. I guess you can take the writing out of the blah but you can't take the blah out of the writing.

Female sneezes - Feathers

cw: Guns, Violence

Operation "Porcupine"

All things considered, Bucket’s first day at the cafe wasn’t terrible. Not too many customers, and she spent all of her time shadowing Duster and Mop anyway. It was like the first day back in school, when all your teachers just make sure you have all your stuff and don’t even assign any homework.

That evening, however, was like the second day back in school.

The four maids gather around the table in the staff room, where Kerchief had laid out several stacks of papers. The manager pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glances around at her subordinates, then she turns her attention to the documents below.

“We’ve received a request for turndown service,” she says, her voice flat and serious as always. “A straightforward retrieval mission, which should also serve as a fine opportunity to show Miss Bucket how we do business after hours.”

Bucket’s eyes unfocus and stare into the middle distance. Time for actual work.

“Our client is an engineer with the ExTech corporation who has been leaking information regarding dangerous products to various journalists over the past several months. He was recently outed as a whistleblower, and has already been taken into protective custody. However, he was forced to leave several important items behind at his apartment, and it’s our job to collect them.”

“Sounds easy enough,” says Duster, grinning as she manages to somehow rub a finger under her nose but in an arrogant sort of way.

“Due to the sensitive nature of the situation, we will only be told what to look for once we arrive in the client’s apartment, but we have also been assured that there won’t be anything we can’t carry on our persons.”

Bucket realizes she’s zoning out and tries to resume paying attention. It wasn’t even a conscious choice on her part, it was like her mind had a mind of its own and would simply switch off if she wasn’t thinking about video games or food. Whatever. Hopefully nobody noticed.

“Miss Duster, Miss Bucket, and I will enter the building as cleaners and make our way to the client’s apartment on the eleventh floor. We’ll go in light and quick, with concealed equipment only. Miss Mop will provide surveillance from this nearby billboard, where you’ll have a view of our client’s apartment’s windows. Let’s…”

Kerchief trails off, closing her eyes with a deep breath. She pushes her glasses up her nose once more before continuing.

“Let’s try to keep collateral damage to a minimum, please.”

Neither Duster nor Mop give any sort of response, standing stock still. Bucket blinks. Just what kind of collateral damage are they expecting?

“Any questions?” Kerchief concludes, looking around the table at her maids.

“Um, yeah. Hi,” interjects Bucket, shakily raising a hand. “Was I supposed to, um… Bring my own guns? Cuz, I, er… Kinda don’t have one.”

Kerchief gives a hand sign for the others to move out, and then she leads Bucket over to the weapon wall. Part of her hopes she’ll be allowed to pick her own, but she buries any urge to complain when the manager selects a diminutive, blocky pistol.

“Here, this should suit you nicely. Glock 19, compact nine millimeter.”

“Thanks,” Bucket mumbles as she accepts the gun, hoping she doesn’t sound ungrateful. She kinda is, but she hopes she doesn’t sound like she is. After checking the chamber and holstering the weapon under her ruffles, she skips after Kerchief to avoid being left behind.

For better or worse, the apartment building is a relatively short van ride away. Duster holds a one-sided conversation with Mop as Kerchief drives, and Bucket silently spaces out all over again. The rookie maid is jolted from her trance when the van stops early and Mop climbs out alone, SRS precision rifle in tow. Bucket briefly wonders how Mop can use a scope with her hair covering both eyes before deciding to spare her remaining functional brain cells.

“Oh yeah, almost forgot,” says Duster as the van slows to a stop in the parking lot. She holds out an earpiece to Bucket, who accepts it and slips it into place after a nod of thanks. After a brief pop of static, she hears what she assumes to be Mop’s voice over the radio.

“I’m in position. Approach looks clear, no sign of movement in the client’s apartment.”

“Thank you, Miss Mop,” Kerchief replies, coming in differently through each of Bucket’s ears. “Keep us apprised of anything unusual.”

Kerchief’s voice is flat in a stilted, socially awkward sort of way, while Mop’s is flat in more of a ‘can I go home now?’ fashion. Bucket assumes they each simply have their gimmicks. Duster’s customers at the cafe probably want her to lift them off the ground with a big hug, and Mop’s want her to step on them.

The three maids hop out of the van, showing nothing to set them apart from any other group of housekeepers. Kerchief casually flashes a key fob to open the building’s front door, and Bucket takes a detailed mental image of the patterns on the carpet as she follows to the elevator. The ride up to the eleventh floor is silent aside from Duster cracking her knuckles. No pre-battle elevator music or anything. Maybe this really would be an easy in and out. Surely there’d have to be thematically inappropriate and royalty-free jazz if they were about to walk into a gunfight.

Nothing out of the ordinary in the hall either. The door to each apartment was neatly shut, with no trash or bodies strewn about, no ninjas waiting in the rafters, and no rafters in which ninjas could be waiting to begin with. Kerchief unlocks unit 11-38 and the squad slips inside without incident.

“Don’t shoot, Mop. It’s just us,” teases Duster, giving a casual salute in the direction of the nearest window.

“Tempting,” Mop drones, though the glass remains unpunctured.

Kerchief brings a hand up to her earpiece as Bucket takes a look around the room. It’s a small, simple suite apartment. Decently sized living room, and a door on one side that presumably leads to the bedroom.

“We’ve arrived, Master,” Kerchief says into her radio. “What would you like us to retrieve?”

“O-oh, right, of course, thank you,” comes a nervous voice that Bucket hasn’t heard before. Time to walk out of here with an armful of classified documents that will surely get her disappeared in the coming weeks.

“It’s, um… My limited edition commemorative Boom the Porcupine plushie.”

Bucket’s head jerks up to stare across the room at Kerchief. The bespectacled maid’s glasses spontaneously slip down her nose just a smidge.

“...I’m sorry?”

“I-it’s the most important thing I own! Only ten were ever made! P-please, find it…”

Neither Bucket nor Kerchief give any sort of reaction. The manager’s eyes darken as she stares vacantly into the middle distance, but still she says nothing.

“Um… M-miss Maids? A-are you there?”

”heh… HRESHoooh!”

A sudden thundering sneeze startles both maids out of their stupor. Bucket looks in the rough direction of the noise to find the door to the bedroom wide open and Duster nowhere to be seen in the living room.

“hh-hhh-! RAAHshooh! Uh. I think I found it.”

Duster’s scratchy, nasal voice sounds even scratchier and nasally-er than usual. Bucket and Kerchief follow into the bedroom, and while the living room seemed completely untouched, the domicile appeared to have been completely torn apart. Papers and broken drawers are strewn across the floor, and the pillows and mattress are ripped open and covered in loose feathers. Duster stands beside the bed, a green plush toy held limply in one hand as her head tips back toward the ceiling.

“HAESHHoo!”

A few feathers stir at the disturbance, and the stuffed animal falls to the floor. It rolls toward Bucket, at which point she picks it up and turns it over in her hands.

“Looks okay to me,” she says, unable to find any obvious damage. Her eyes briefly flick up to Duster, who is busy frantically rubbing two fingers back and forth under her nose. “Gesundheit, by the way.”

“Please forgive Miss Duster,” Kerchief interjects, leaning over to inspect the plushie herself. “I’m afraid she’s allergic to feathers.”

“No I’m dot!” protests the boyish maid. “It’s just sobethig id the eh… heh… HERSHHoooh!”

“Care, care. Another van is pulling into the parking lot,” comes Mop’s voice. “Will keep- Get down, get down!”

Before Bucket can react, she finds herself being yanked into the bedroom closet. The sound of breaking glass just barely reaches her ears as the door slams shut, plunging her and the others into darkness.

“Talk to me, Miss Mop,” Kerchief half whispers.

“At least six unidentified contacts, and they’re… They’re climbing the side of the building.”

“They’re what!?” snaps Duster, prompting Kerchief to clap a hand over her mouth.

“Hold fire and keep me updated,” commands the manager. “The apartment has already been searched. We’ll let them see that for themselves and they should pass us by.”

“Understood.”

Silence falls once more. Bucket ponders pointing out that whoever these people are, they’re definitely going to check the closet. But surely Kerchief already knows that, right? Plus, with eleven floors worth of wall to climb, she and the others would probably have time to simply go back the way they came.

“First unknown entering the window now,” Mop says. Okay, that was a lot faster than Bucket expected. Sure enough, the crunch of someone stepping on glass shards soon follows. In spite of the apparent danger, however, the maid begins to tumble down another mental rabbit hole. In the sliver of light coming around the closet door, Bucket spots a little scrap of feather fluff stuck to the plush porcupine. She casually plucks it off and flicks it away, leaving it to flutter about in improbable aimlessness until it comes to rest right on the upturned tip of Duster’s nose.

“hh… heh…”

The muscular maid’s reaction is immediate, and Kerchief’s is only slightly behind. The manager presses an outstretched finger firmly against Duster’s nostrils, silently urging her to hold it in. 

“hegh… ghh…”

Duster shudders, unable to suppress the occasional hitchy wheeze. The footsteps in the bedroom continue, sometimes moving closer, sometimes away. But, if someone else had already turned the apartment upside down, why were they-

“ah-ahh-CHOOOO!!”

Bucket doubles over with a sudden screamed sneeze, leaving Duster too stunned to finish her own. The closet door flies open and the maids find themselves facing a white, featureless… Face? A pair of glowing blue eyes stare out from behind what Bucket can only assume is a robot’s plastic outer shell. She sheepishly rubs her nose as the machine regards her and each of the maids, but none of them offer any reaction. Finally the robot settles on the stuffed animal in Bucket’s arms, and its eyes blink in seeming recognition.

“Attention, female. Surrender the porcu-”

Kerchief quickdraws her Sig P229 sidearm and delivers two rapid shots from the hip to the robot’s torso, then she takes a split second to aim before putting a third bullet through its head. She strides out of the closet without missing a beat, checking for danger in both directions before turning in the direction of the window and firing again. The maid takes her finger off the trigger, raises her weapon slightly, and looks back to her subordinates.

“Time to get tactical, ladies. Miss Mop, weapons free.”

Bucket blinks a few times before fumbling to draw her own pistol.

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure,” she stammers, awkwardly stepping into the bedroom. A grappling hook had pierced through the window and secured itself to the wall below, giving the robotic attackers their means of ingress.

“ehh… hHRESHHoo!”

Bucket jumps as Duster heaves out another explosive sneeze. By the time Bucket can turn to look, her snuffly companion has already produced and readied a Scorpion Evo 3 submachine gun. Where she’d been hiding it all this time remains a mystery. With a harsh sniff and a firm rub under her nose, Duster walks up to the fallen robot and gives it a kick.

“ExTech,” she grumbles, pausing to mash her nostrils upward with the palm of her hand. “And they’re really here for this heh… ehgh… HESHH-hooh!”

“Porcupine,” Bucket amends, assuming Duster was trying to sneeze her way through ‘hedgehog.’

A distant POP interrupts the banter, and a moment later the sounds of crashing and clattering issue through the window.

“Remaining climbers dispatched,” says Mop. “Doesn’t look like they survived the fall. Are they… Robots?”

“ExTech drones, here for the same thing we are,” Bucket mumbles. “I didn’t think stuff like this existed, but I’m a maid with a gun, so I guess anything’s possible.”

“Oh, more good news. ExTech helicopter inbound,” Mop alerts. Kerchief’s hand flies up to her earpiece.

“Hold fire, there’s no way to control where it’ll crash.”

“I hope you can make a quick exit, then. They’re headed for the roof.”

Bucket looks around at her companions, bristling slightly as the sound of beating rotors draws nearer.

“So, uh… Elevator? Do we have to take the stairs cuz it’s an emergency?”

Kerchief and Duster each remove a climbing descender from under their ruffles. Bucket twitches.

“H-hang on, what are those? I don’t have one.”

“Just hold on to me,” says Duster with a grin, clipping her device onto the rope the robots had courteously provided. Not wanting to be left behind, Bucket immediately hops onto her back and clings for dear life. She squeezes even tighter as Duster braces against the windowsill, forgetting all about the porcupine plush as it gets squished in between them.

“Wait, can this thing hold two people?” Bucket screeches. Duster glances back at her with a wink.

“Only one way to find out!”

Duster kicks off from the window, and the pair begin to glide down the rope toward the parking lot below. Bucket lasts a whole two seconds before starting to scream at the top of her lungs, but she runs out of breath before they reach the ground and manages to silence herself.

“So, how’s this for your first day of work?” Duster shouts over the rushing wind. Bucket does her best to shrug without letting go.

“Beats retail, I guess!”

“Damn straight! I think you’re… Y-youre… heh… eh-hehh…”

Their descent becomes a touch choppy as Duster’s breath starts to waver. Filled with a renewed sense of panic, Bucket tries to maneuver one hand to put a finger under her lifeline’s nose, but…

“heh… hEH! HRESHHHoooh!”

Completely consumed by her sneeze, Duster loses her grip on her descender. She and Bucket plummet to the ground, a treacherous two feet of remaining distance. Both maids lay on top of each other on the pavement in silence for a few stunned seconds before starting to moan and groan.

“Gesundheit…” breathes Bucket, reaching between herself and her companion as she remembers the flattened plushie. Duster snorts inelegantly and rubs her fingers in a rough circle under her itchy nose.

“Yeah… Sorry. You break anything?”

“Nah. Just your fall.”

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks to @daisymae-12 @anincompletelist @suseagull04 for the tags! I'm having A Bit Of A Week so I decided to jump back into a doc I've been struggling with for a while but really love, aka Anastasia AU my beloved, and smash out a few new words for it. I'd apologise for it being so bloody long buuuuuuut turns out I'm not actually sorry!

“Age progression AI,” Nora says, and Alex nods as though this means anything to him. “Someone’s built one that they’re claiming will, quote, ‘change the game’ when it comes to missing person’s cases, but they don’t give a single fuck about the privacy concerns or the data usage implications, so I’m trying to pull it apart and prove it’s janky. Can’t rely on capitalism to do the moral thing, but I sure can trust corporations to recognise a bad investment.” Alex hums in agreement, leaning over her shoulder. “Is it good, though? Ethical quandaries aside?” “Unfortunately, yeah.” Nora reaches for the Red Bull next to her laptop, taking a long swig. “But everything I’m feeding it is already public domain—celebrities and stuff—so it’s hard to differentiate true AI generation from it scanning and returning older photos of the same person. So now I’m looking at people the internet doesn’t have photos of past a certain age, seeing what it spits out.” “Like… dead children?” He winces. “Dark.” “Dead or missing.” She minimises the window full of code, bringing up a side-by-side of two pictures instead. “Prince Henry. Disappeared the night we dissolved the monarchy, almost definitely dead, but his family still— Alex, are you okay?” It’s only when Nora says his name that Alex realises his head is spinning; he sucks in a breath, and the immediate relief he feels makes it clear that he hadn’t done so for longer than is strictly advisable. He can’t tear his eyes away from the picture on the right: the sharp blue eyes, the soft-looking golden hair, the imperious set to his jaw that drove Alex crazy for an entire semester. “That’s— you’re fucking with me, right?” “Alex, babe. I love that your brain runs a million miles a minute, but in this particular case, I think you’ve left me behind.”  Alex turns to look at her. He’s known Nora for years—biblically and otherwise—and he likes to think he can read her well enough. If he’s right, she’s not fucking with him, and somehow that’s worse. “Nora,” he says slowly, “I know this guy.”

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tags below the cut and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

@affectionatelyrs @celaestis1 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @dumbpeachjuice @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hypnostheory @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lilythesilly @myheartalivewrites @nontoxic-writes @orchidscript @rmd-writes @roseapothecary @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland 

[camillelespanayesbtch]

I Left My Conscience On Your Front Door Step (18+)

Content: Brief smut, swearing, typical (and a-typical) Camille stuff

Word Count: 4098

Author's Note: I rushed the end, I'm sorry. I just didn't have the motivation :( I do have an idea for a series where Camille is a vampire if anyone is interested please send an anon!

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“Sorry it took so long, Camille. Two of the Starbucks didn’t have the shots you liked, so I had to drive to the other side of town,” you say even though the excuses meant nothing to Camille, but they calmed the anxiety that had been bubbling under the surface. That anxiety bubbled as you drove from store to store just to get her fucking coconut milk coffee with a double shot of the best espresso available from that corporation. You set the takeout cup down and only then do you realize you should have fixed something- the one mistake you’d made other than being late with her coffee.

Camille eyes the take-out cup, turning it around then looks at you, “They spelled my name wrong. It’s C-A-M-I-L-L-E, not fucking C-A-M-E-E. You’re still relatively new, I’ll let it slide this time but don’t make a habit of it.” She picks it up and starts to drink it, leaning back in her desk chair as she watches you, she enjoyed watching you stew over the little things.

“It’s not my fault they’re fucking stupid. They’re Starbucks baristas, not Harvard educated people,” you reply, checking your tablet for what Camille had going on that day and you too.

Camille snorts and shakes her head, “Don’t you get it, Yn? You work for me. Ergo, it means that you have to make sure things go well. Ergo, you have to ensure that the fucking Starbucks barista spells my fucking name correctly, got it?” She smiles at the end although it was one of her subdued anger smiles that lets you know if you piss her off again, you’ll be her glorified footstool for the rest of the day. You did make such a wonderful stool too, back straight and silent, just the way she likes you.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, your cheeks turning pink, “Yes, Camille. I’ll remember that for next time.” You would make sure that you did, whether it be making a note of it in your calendar or on the order itself- No, you couldn’t do that because then Camille would know that you were imperfect, and she always wanted perfection in every aspect of her life which now included you. You, her assistant, and according to the NDA you filled out with heated cheeks, her pretty little whore.

“Good,” she drinks another mouthful of her coffee before returning it to her desk, scrolling through her phone before her eyes meet yours. “This job isn’t easy, okay? But I need you to want this. I need you to want this job and everything it entails.” She had her fair share of assistants, and her last lot coupled up and it was the most pathetic little display she’d ever seen in her life. They fell in love with each other? Just as she finished paying off both their student loans? What a fucking coincidence. And Camille L’espanaye doesn’t believe in coincidences.

“I know. I know, and I do want this.” You meet her gaze, she always looked so perfect; the slightest hint of blue to the inner corner of her eyes, the sharp eyeliner that isn’t exaggerated, the soft fullness to her eyelashes, and her eyes themselves- a grey green that reminded you of aged jade, expensive, elite, rare, everything that Camille is. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want this job and everything it entails.” You hadn’t been intimate with her until the third day of your new position, and she made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t going to touch you unless you had earned it and you hadn’t earned it yet. You had a feeling in your gut that you were never going to earn being fucked by her unless she was just going to use your body to get off herself.

Camille chuckles and shakes her head before tilting her head slightly as she drags her eyes over you, “Please. You’re here because I’m paying off your student loans. What were you trying to graduate with again? A master’s in psychology… Now look at you. Oh, you’d surely make such an interesting research paper on yourself, don’t you think? An assistant and a whore. You don’t fool me, Yn.” She rolls her eyes; you were just another nobody after her money so you didn’t have to pay off your own student debt and thought that selling your body to her would make it happen faster. She knew she was attractive, hot, sexy, so who wouldn’t want a chance to be touched by her? To even be close to the one and only Camille L’espanaye. She’d had people stumbling over themselves in the street trying to get to her to even say hi and then be ignored. You weren’t special.

Her words stung and you knew that was her intention; it was either this job or your degree, and being a waitress wasn’t cutting the loan repayments or even being close to covering rent. So, now you sell your body to your boss and do the dirty work for her too. The corner of your mouth twitches slightly in a brief smirk, “Oh Camille, you say that like you don’t enjoy when I eat you out under your desk.” You pout, “I’m wounded.” If you closed your eyes and thought about those times, you could still taste her on your tongue, a little tangy but mostly sweet with the slightest musk, and you would lap up every drop too just to savor her. 

The silver-haired woman looks slightly taken aback by what you’d just said, her tan cheeks taking on the slightest pink hue to them, almost matching the lipstick she often painted her lips with. “I enjoy getting off, the person that does it doesn’t matter to me. You keep talking to me like this, and I’ll find someone who won’t run their pretty little mouth as much as you.” She crosses her legs and drinks another mouthful of her coffee, her pupils dilating as she remembers how eager you were to eat her out the first time- the sparkle in your eyes, the devotion you looked up at her with, it was that moment that she knew you were just a stray dog that needed just a little more training. The first time you only managed to make her cum once with your mouth before you got sloppy because it was aching too much, your fingers finished her off, but she was pissed and told you to get better. How did you get better? Cleaning her heels and boots with your tongue until they showed her reflection, she didn’t realize how wet that made you until she heard you in the bathroom masturbating.

“I’m sure you enjoy it more than you’re letting on, Camille,” You head back over to the couch, leaning back against it and looking through the tablet again. This little device was the holy grail of information, and if you lost it, Camille would have your head on a platinum Cartier plate. She couldn’t afford to have the information you were dealing with slip into the hands of the wrong person because then it’d make her look bad and there’s one thing that’s consistent with her- she always looks really fucking good.

Camille narrows her eyes at you, it’d be so fucking easy for her to slap you, to hit you, choke you even- leave welts on your skin from the claw marks her nails leave, but she doesn’t. She wants to, God does she want to see your pretty skin marked up because of her, hear the way you whine and moan and hiss as she does, then as she touches each one as a reminder of what had happened. She takes a breath and exhales slowly like she’d seen on those shitty mindfulness videos that circulate around. She didn’t like your cockiness, only she was allowed to be that cocky. Only her. “Did you get the information on Victorine like I asked?”

“Of course I did, Camille,” you put the tablet to the side before looking through your bag, you’d had a number of documents printed and stapled together so she didn’t have to deal with the same mess of papers you had. You pull them out of your bag before heading over to her.

“Took you long enough. I require things I ask of you in a timely manner, Yn. Not at your earliest convenience. Mine.” She takes the papers from you and flicks through them, her eyes quickly scanning the pages, her lip twitching, “Is this it? That’s all you got? How am I supposed to nail her down with this shit?” Camille tosses the documents, the pages fluttering through the air before hitting the ground in front of her desk. Couldn’t you do one fucking thing right today?

You chew your bottom lip, stopping yourself from peeling a piece of skin from it like you had a nasty habit of doing, “That was all I could find-“ Your cheeks flush at her unimpressed stare, butterflies in your stomach much like the papers, they float around before hitting the bottom with a dull thud. “I’ll go look again, Camille.” How could you have been so stupid as to think that this would be enough? You’re a smart woman, you should have known better than to hand her some falsified documents that could be brushed under the rug fairly quickly. Try harder. Do better.

“Yes, you will go look again, Gina.” She drinks some more coffee before deciding that she’s had enough, tossing it in the bin then screwing her nose up when the lid pops off and spills coffee into it. “We both know this woman is killing innocent animals left right and center. And we both know that the only animals that deserve to die are men,” she looks at you and smiles, “So, go find me something more useful than pages of words.” Camille drums her nails against the desk, tilting her head slightly as she watches the little cogs turn in your head- she wondered if there was a little hamster or other vermin running around.

“Yes, Camille, I agree with you- I’ll keep looking,” you pick the documents up and go back to the couch to look again. There were multiple avenues that you had access to, seeing things you never wanted to see again, reading things you never wanted to, and oh- “I found a feed from the room they do the surgery in. Victorine front and center along with her wife. Nobody likes seeing animals getting hurt.” The video made you feel ill, incredibly so, so you look away before what little breakfast you had resurfaced.

Her head shoots up from her phone, her eyes twinkling with unbridled glee, “Oh? Video footage? Do show me, puppy.” She holds her hand out expectantly, taking the tablet from you once you place it in her outstretched hand. And like the obedient little doggy you are, you gently place it in her hand, being careful to not catch her acrylic nails which so often dug so deliciously into your scalp.

“She’s right there helping her wife with the surgery, that’s damning enough, isn’t it?” You hoped it was anyway- You didn’t really understand Camille’s hatred towards her siblings, in the sense that outside of the awful things they were doing you couldn’t see it as your run-of-the-mill sibling hatred, the feeling she had- That was barely contained rage, disgust, like if she could, she would kill the woman and spit on her grave, but that was beneath Camille, she’d much rather have you do the dirty work instead. You watch her reaction to the video, the video you found, and hoped it would satisfy her after screwing up with the written documents. But you should know by now, Camille is rarely satisfied.

“There’s no audio. It’s okay, but it could be better,” she pouts, restarting the video to watch her half-sister butcher a poor chimpanzee. While she was partially doing this for purely selfish reasons, she couldn’t help but feel bad for the animals being experimented on and she knew once she screwed her half-sister over, they would be free from being used as guinea pigs for the stupid heart mesh. Good idea in theory, but Victorine was stupid.

You take an unsteady breath, picking at your fingers behind your back so the silver haired beauty wouldn’t notice, “The audio version is bound to be out there somewhere. It’ll just take some time to find it.” You weren’t sure about that actually, for all you knew, that was the only video footage of the brutality. You wonder if Camille knew you were bluffing about that, she’s a smart woman, she’d know.

“Usually, surveillance videos don’t have any audio, smarty pants,” she remarks, eyes still glued to the screen, the faintest hint of a smile on her face as she replays the video. Even without the audio, Victorine was fucked. F-U-C-K-E-D.

“Usually, scientists record their experiments in more ways than one, so, there’s bound to be a version with audio out there somewhere.” You take the tablet back, Camille almost pouting when you do. You knew this would be good enough for now, it could be explained away as an accident- But how do you accidentally cut open a chimpanzee and force your shitty heart mesh around its heart just to prove that your product works when you know it doesn’t.

Camille nods and looks at you, “I like the way you think. You’re not afraid of anything, are you?” She needed someone fearless to be able to do this work, fear inhibits the ability to find the dirtiest of information and she couldn’t have that. Not in her line of work, your line of work. You were going to be her dog with a bone, a nose for sniffing out the filthiest information, and the ability to spin it almost as good as she does.

Your cheeks color and you look at the ground before meeting her penetrating gaze, “Fear stops you from doing things and taking what you deserve. I wouldn’t be here if I let fear get the best of me.” You remember applying for an interview and shaking your head because you really didn’t have much to offer her at all- you had heard rumors about what she asked of her assistants, but you didn’t take them to be true. She had stopped you before you sat down, inspected you like you were a piece of meat, and you couldn’t deny how hot it made you. When you read through the NDA, your cheeks had burned, and you squirmed in your seat much to Camille’s amusement.

The corner of her lip turns up in a smirk as she sits back, raising a brow, “You’re scared of me.” She tilts her head slightly and runs her eyes slowly down your body, while the uniform she chose left too much to the imagination, she loved how it made you look. Like you were going to her to be taught something, and you were. She was your teacher, and you were her good little student, doe-eyed and expectant.

You feel your cheeks take on more color, they were bound to be a deep red by now, and you hated yourself for the reaction. You weren’t scared of her, right? Your heart rate did increase when you were around her, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but that wasn’t fear? Unless you misunderstood those reactions and were actually experiencing bouts of anxiety when around her. “Why would I be scared of you?”

“Because I’m fucking terrifying, look at me,” she gestures to herself, she didn’t have to sell herself to you because she knew the look in your eyes, the desire, the want, the lust. Yet you were still timid about showing it, not always, but most of the time. There was just the faintest flicker of fear in your eyes, she could see it even if you didn’t want to admit it. It made her hot.

You let out a bit of a chuckle, shaking your head, “You’re hot and intimidating, Camille, but not terrifying.” It didn’t take much for her to intimidate you, she could back you up against the wall and your breath would catch in your throat before a burning heat settled itself between your legs, your lips parted, and pupils blown. Maybe that was fear. And fear does strange things to your body when it involves one Camille L’espanaye.

“That’s because you haven’t seen me,” she smirks, running her tongue over her upper teeth much like an awaiting lion does when it sees prey. “You’ll see,” it was a promise, one way or another you would see her, and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on you when you do. When you do realize just how fucking scary she can be, then she’ll fuck every single thought out of that head of yours until you’re a pretty little doll for her.

“I can’t wait then,” you smile despite the brief flicker of anxiety that goes through you at her look, you didn’t mind being treated like a doll but this look was different, it made your breath catch in the back of your throat, and made you rub your thighs together briefly, subtly in hopes she would notice but of course she does- she always does. “You’d be surprised what I find attractive, Camille.”

“Oh?” Her smile grows and somehow her teeth seem sharper than before, she loved where this is going and it excited her deeply, “We have yet to talk about hard and soft limits. I know we’ve already fucked, but limits were never discussed.” She wasn’t a freak that didn’t respect those things, she took them seriously and would respect you outside of the bedroom while she was disrespecting your perfect body in the bedroom. She absolutely loved the sounds you made and how you looked with pretty bruises and bite marks all over.

“You’d listen to that?” You ask in disbelief before apologizing, she hadn’t indicated that she wouldn’t listen to you in bed, in fact when you’ve asked her to slow down previously, she has- same with when you asked her to stop. She was ruthless but she wasn’t a monster. You take a breath, taking the pad of paper on her desk and pen before writing them down, “You’re not a freak, are you?” You look at her, “Not into that piss or crap stuff because I’ll quit right now if you are.”

Camille screws her nose up in disgust, offended you’d even ask her such a thing- she’s a classy woman, not some bottom-feeder, “Ew, fuck no.” She gags, getting herself a coconut water to wash down the bad taste you’d put in her mouth, “I just want to know what you like so when you’re not servicing me, I can make sure you’re having fun too.” Her eyes follow every stroke of the pen, the longer the list of your green-light things grows, the more the fire builds in her stomach, the stronger the electricity surges through her veins.

“Good,” you hand the list over to her, your cheeks coloring when you see a wolfish grin. “I think you’ll be surprised the extent of things I find enjoyable.” You bite back a squeak when she points to the ground in front of her seat. You quickly move into position, your fingers itching to touch her creamy thighs, “Please-“

“Hm?” She looks at you over the top of the list you just wrote for her, “Please what? You can’t already be that desperate.” She looks back at the list, “Then again, the list does just scream desperate little slut. I wonder if I can get a stamp made just for you, stamp it right on your forehead so you see it every time you look in the mirror.” She chuckles at her idea, rather pleased with herself. “Yes, I think you’ll find a place that makes custom stamps so I can have one. Be a good little puppy and do that for me, hm?” Camille reaches down to pat your head, her hand moving down to stroke your cheek after, thoroughly enjoying the way you melt into her touch.

“A- A stamp? I suppose I could do that. Do you want me to do it now? I-“ You grab your tablet to start looking, ignoring the pain starting to grow in your knees the longer your kneeling on the tile flooring of her office. You quickly find a place that makes custom stamps, holding up a selection of colors up to her so she could pick, “I think the red is nice.”

Camille hums, “It would be more bold, wouldn’t it? Harder to hide, and more likely to stain, how fun.” She grins and nods for you to get on with it before focusing back on reading through your list of kinks.

“Red,” you repeat quietly before looking back at your tablet and order the stamp, your cheeks starting to burn at the text she wanted on it. Your mind starts to wonder about what the people who were in charge of making these custom stamps would think of this one, but they were also likely to have received far worse than this. You clear your throat, “I’ve ordered it. Estimated time is two weeks.”

“Always so quick to do what I ask of you,” she smiles, putting the paper on her desk before stroking your cheek, her hand moving down to cup your jaw and tilt your head up. She runs her thumb lightly under your bottom lip as her eyes stare into yours, her lip twitches when you press a soft kiss to the pad of her thumb before parting your lips to suck on it lightly. Camille lets out a pleased sigh, her pretty eyes darkening, “Such a good little puppy, aren’t you? So damn eager to please.”  She lets you suck her thumb a little longer before pulling it out and spreading her legs, “Come on, you’ve earned a treat.”

You gently rest your hands on her legs, moving closer so you could press kisses to her thighs. Her skin felt like silk, you could smell the lotion she uses and you found yourself never wanting to smell anything else. You go to graze your teeth against her skin but Camille tugs your hair roughly, “Don’t bite me,” she warns, only letting go when you rush out an apology. You kiss her skin again, murmuring another apology before carefully pushing her skirt further up her hips, your eyes darkening when you see her panties. You hook your fingers into them and tug them down. According to Camille, you were taking too long so she grabs your head and forces you between her legs. You let out a moan when you get your first taste of her, your tongue running through her folds and eagerly lapping her up. You swirl your tongue around her clit lightly before wrapping your lips around it and sucking gently, your finger starting to tease her pussy. You slowly push into her, gasping when her nails dig into your scalp, holding you firmer against her as you start to finger her. The louder Camille became, the more eagerly you pleased her, not stopping until you feel her gush against your face, and even then you lap her juices up not wanting to waste a drop.

Camille lets go of you and you rest your head against her lap as you both catch your breath, “Fuck,” she says after a few moments of heavy breathing, “I should get you to do that more often.”

You look up at her with twinkling eyes, “I’d stay under your desk if I could. That’s how addictive you are, Camille.” She chuckles and pats your cheek before leaning back and closing her eyes. “I’ll get you a coconut water-“

“No,” she cuts you off, “Just- Just sit, please.”

“Okay,” you smile and relax against her, wrapping an arm around her leg and closing your eyes too, the only sound in the room was your breaths. You didn’t want to think about it too much, her asking you to stay, what it meant, the consequences because that would ruin the content feeling that was washing over you and you didn’t want that. You just wanted to enjoy being this close to her. To enjoy being allowed to be this close to her. Camille, what an enigma.

[dallasgallant]

Time period post: Terminology and technology

This started as quick and easy smaller one but it’s sort of diverged into subsections, anyways… this’ll be on some of the existing technology and terminology of them time. There was actually a far bit more than you’d assume.

Let’s start terminology wise. “Refrigerated air” is still one of my favorites that I’ve discovered, it basically means that a building is air conditioned! HUGE! NEW THING! It was being added to motels, businesses - homes eventually etc. so a motel being “Refrigerated air, color Tv, swimming pool” is a really damn nice place. Now days motels seem to be looked down upon but they’ve always been a huge part of the culture, especially when cars were new and big and the height of road trips back in the 1950s-60s. (Howard Johnsons , holiday inn etc) this was also the height of roadside attractions/tourist traps think ‘worlds largest’ anything, Route 66 (before it crumped into the remains of today)

~

Another terminology heavy thing is Schooling,

Back in the day it was much more common to hear “Primary school” in America than it is now an alternative is Grammar school - both of which being daycare-Elementary. Then “junior high” was more common than Middle school

But in a smaller town it’s also common to have more than one if not all of these schools and grade levels shoved into one huge building.

Corporal punishment- hitting students, was still a thing. (Also the argument of basically student rights/are people when it came to anti war protest in high schools)

Desegregation of schools began.

Schools also started later in the morning but still got out at a decent time; this changed in the 1980s

~

As for general terminology a lot of slang is still used today that was introduced in the 60s, I’d recommend looking it up but for JD specific stuff I do have a post up!

It’s also important to recognize some of their language would be outdated… not actively out to harm but they wouldn’t have knowledge of language 50+ years in the future etc. (like how a lot of older phrases or words have become offensive etc)

~

As for technology, a lot was changing too. The computer was still new and huge— spanning rooms as this huge mechanical thing that was going to get man to the moon. Still far from being in homes. However, still a lot of neat stuff and gadgets for people to play with.

The 60s are really the height of what we’d now consider “Retrofuturism” with how maybe one day they’ll be huge video screens and transporters and video watches and world peace etc. there was a obsession with progress and innovation in a very optimistic way.

Though if you wanted to transport your music (and weren’t going to carry a huge ass record player around) you have small portable radios but also hand/shirt pocket ones as well. I can’t speak to sound quality …

Phones were still on the wall or on the table. Color tv was slowly being adopted in households across the country— but still pretty $$$ a lot of people would be sticking with B&W even if tv and movies were making the more permanent switch.

So uh fun fact about cars. It wasn’t until 1968 models came out that seatbelts were standard and required. It’s more than likely the boys cars don’t have seatbelts. (They were invented in the late 50s and it sort of depended)

Bench seats were also super common so it didn’t matter which side of a car you got into as you could just slide across. You can see where this only adds to teen car culture- make out points, drive ins with some uh backseat bingo (actual term! Lmao)

[thecurlyhousefairy]

Reasons why I won’t regret being a stay at home mother (even if I were to divorce, or something happened)

I married a capable man who has only developed and grown since we got together. If we were to divorce, the law is on my side and I would still get by with child support, even without working.

Said capable and loving man has a huge insurance in case he dies, so me and my baby would be able to live a couple years on it and I would have enough time to make my own business, as I despise corporate and would never go back to it. That if I don’t remarry first.

Why would I remarry?

Because my baby deserves a father. Because the world is full of loving people and I believe in my capacity to heal.

I don’t know if I would remarry if I ever, god forsakes, became a widow, and I don’t ponder on that. BUT, if I were to divorce, I would absolutely remarry, and here is why:

I would only divorce if my husband is completely out of integrity. If he did things like cheating or gambling or becoming addict, or became physically and emotionally abusive. Those are not small things. If he ever decided to dirty his soul like that I have the right to keep going, for me and my family. If he ever decided to forget his path, I still have the right to be happy and to have a family.

I married so the law would protect me. I chose a capable men so my family could be sustained. I also chose to cultivate myself so if he didn’t have a job for a while or he was sick, I could work too, I have hands and a capable mind. I’m safe, and no matter what, I would keep going.

Even if I ended in a tight situation, these years with my baby have been worth it. She is so educated, she is so loving, we have so many memories, so many little traditions. I’m her love and she is mine, and nothing can ever make me regret that.

So I won’t ever regret it.

This post is a little bit crude but I think it’s important to talk about this stuff. We not only decide to stay at home and forget about our future. We are deciding what’s best for us and our family every instant, it guides our path. And for us, being traditional is right ❤️

[toxxxic-mess]

Introduction

Hey losers, and Hello Alphas.

This is my new blog, after my previous was once again banned. A few boring bits out of the way though since we’re here.

Firstly; Incase you can’t tell, I’m a beta loser. I believe woman are superior to me, and I can’t compete with real men when it comes to girls. So please don’t ask me to dominate you etc, and also please don’t call me Sir, this is a major turn off for me, just a heads up if we’re chatting and it goes quiet. My preferred pronoun is “it” :)

Also I’m happy to chat to others, it’s why keep coming back despite the constant deactivation of my accounts. But due to the amount of conversations and the amount of gooning etc, I’m less likely to reply to messages that just say hi or how are you etc. Don’t take it offensively, it’s just between a choice of spending time gooning with another loser over a hot girl, or making small talk, becoming a better beta loser will also take precedence.

The reason I post online is because I love being a loser. I love gooning to worse and worse things, and getting others to jerk off to worse and worse things. Everything I post online about myself is true, such as stories etc, and if I post about followers etc it will be a mix of true and exaggeration to get them triggered, assuming that the bits that are true are in turn told to me truthfully. For instance, if I make an exposure caption about a loser, everything in the post is true based on what they tell me. I can’t guarantee what they’ve told me, but also if I don’t believe them I won’t post. Just take it with a grain of salt. However, while I am a loser and enjoy doing humiliating things, a lot of things I am physically unable to do. This is because I have a girlfriend. No, I will not share pictures or talk about her any more, but yes, I am still a virgin. We have a good relationship, but she doesn’t enjoy being dominant or seeing me as a sissy etc, so we have an agreement I can explore fantasies online etc, and what I do at home when alone is my business. Essentially an ignorance is bliss agreement, which is fair enough, if not ideal. But it does mean things more permanent like for instance decorating my room in pink with Barbies etc just won’t happen.

I jerk to a lot, though ironically, “normal” porn doesn’t do anything for me, nor do most captions, though will post a few to encourage other losers to be better gooners. I guess being in mid 30’s and jerking off since a teen daily means I’ve seen so much it’s just boring now. As such, I’ve gotten into quite niche areas of porn, as you don’t see much so it feels fresh, though down side isn’t much of it. My biggest turn on is corruption, being turned into the opposite of what makes me me. There’s the obvious stuff like bimbofication and sissisfication, hypnosis etc, but I love the more mental alterations such as false memories, religious play and political play etc. I love gooning to anime waifus, as I try to convince myself real girls are too good for me, I’ve also started gooning to corporations. Power is sexy, corporations have power this corporations are sexy. I believe people should be treated fair, so gooning to companies paying less than minimum wage and denying rights just feels hot. As I said, been getting into niche stuff. I also enjoy making vices worse such as drinking and smoking, or creating new vices if needed too. Hopefully they’ll be more normal stuff on here for everyone, but if you develop new kinks because of it, then I’ve helped make you a worse loser, which is exactly what you should be. When I do jerk to real girls, my favourite is Riley Reid though Livvy Dunne is a close second, and you’ll see I do enjoy the Chav/White Trash aesthetic. I also have a huge crush and inferiority complex to Asian women, and obsess over e-girls like Alice Delish and Belle Delphine

A lot of what I post is not my content. Again, due to constant deactivation from higher up, I lose track of who posted what. However stuff I post that isn’t mine I fee needs to be shared as it’s so good. So if you see something you made, please don’t think I’m taking credit for it. I just wanted to share it. If I post something you made, DM me and I can take it down, attribute credit or re-blog your version etc. whatever works for you.

I do make original captions etc, but honestly, only when I feel like it, and if feel inspired by any sent pictures etc. if you want a caption send pictures and I’ll see what can do, but just be prepared I might not. I’m more likely to post if you say what sort of caption or any info you want requested in it, and almost always do it if we’ve been chatting and we’ve made each other worse perverts.

I also log into peoples social media, people who know me from my other blogs can attest to how triggering it is. If you request this, we will agree on conditions before hand, and I will do no more or no less than what we agree. Again, others can attest this is the case, but if you’re unsure, there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind. I’ve logged into peoples FB, found their hot friends and posted their pics on here turning them into goon fuel for other perverts, posted embarrassing statuses (you can always say you were hacked :) ) or just watched friends talk to you, and DM you messages on here about what I COULD reply to them posing as you. One person even let me reply to them occasionally on the condition he could send the next message after. Again whatever works for you, anything to help losers get triggered more. Getting triggered more means you need a bigger dopamine hit next time for that rush which means more time dedicated to porn. Porn always wins.

Anyway, think that’s the end of the long post done. Will post a couple of girls now just to end the wall of text.