#brian stick figure

[hardcoreguystickfigure]

Welcome back

[yesiamprocrastinating]

Be like Brian.

[happylandfill23]

i forgot i made this. but then i remembered

[wowieeitsisa]

GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT

[giidiamond]

The first fan art of the Kasen and Friends & Challenge For Shot Characters on tumblr.

The characters being Kasen (Orange one), Pacman (The yellow), Giant pacman (The purple one with a face), Mario (The red one), Luigi (The green with a hat), Sabrina (The Pink one), Ryanne (The dark puple one), Brian (The dark blue one), Sprite (The green one with hairl), Pencil (Pretty self-explanatory) and Unknown (The black one with red eyes).

[britneyshakespeare]

I love drawing in charcoal because when you're in the beginning of a work, instead of looking like something reasonable it's perfectly acceptable and natural for them to look like this

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || chapter two || the proxies

tw: mentions of murder, brief descriptions of gore

a/n: i’ve gotten a lot of love for this series and i just wanted to say thank you!! as a tribute of my appreciation i present a question: would you guys prefer this story on another platform ADDITIONAL to tumblr? i’ve gotten a few ask. i’m not familiar with ao3 but id like to learn if yall want it :)<3

<— chapter one

You had Toby absolutely mesmerized.

He swallowed nervously as he sat beside you in the diner’s booth. Brian had specifically requested the booth farthest away from everyone else. He sought out privacy, even when you curiously arched an eyebrow when he informed the waitress of his request.

Toby couldn’t help but admire your figure, your curves begging to be acknowledged in that slimming white dress of yours. The sight borderline made his mouth water. Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat, refraining from anxiously chewing on the inside of his mouth. This would be the first time in years he would be eating in public. Usually he was never concerned with his appearance. That was until he met you.

Now he was slouched in a booth at a diner, a large bandage tightly secured to the decaying side of his face. You were kind enough to not stare, Toby only having noticed your eyes flickering to it once. You hadn’t question his ghoul gray skin or bandage. You didn’t stare at him like he was a freak. You just carried on the conversation like he was a normal person like Tim and Brian. He glanced over at Tim and Brian, his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

The four of you had been served glasses of water, the waitress apologizing and ushering to a different table. You began to unwrap a straw, before putting it into your glass.

“So, what do you guys do for work?”

The question almost made Brian spit out his drink. Tim elbowed his partner. “We’re private consultants,” He replied casually. You sipped your water, grabbing the lemon off of the rim. “Private consultants for what?” You asked, squeezing the juice into your water. Toby watched Brian and Tim carefully, both of them tongue tied. “K-kind of like detective-es. Just without the license,” Toby answered. He hoped you hadn’t noticed how shaky his hand was as he grabbed his glass. He didn’t bother with a straw, carelessly gulping down the water.

“Detectives? Thats nice. Hired by a private client I assume? One that’s behind the scenes,” You suggest. Toby exchanged looks with Tim, giving him a slight nod to suggest they go along with your explanation. “Yeah victims families sometimes aren’t satisfied with the police’s answer for disappearances or murders. They hire people like us to do some of our own investigating,” Tim replied. He hadn’t touched his water. The waitress returned, a small notebook in hand.

“What will you all have to drink?”

Tim gestured for you to go first.

“I’ll have a coke, thank you.”

You looked over at Toby, whose leg was bouncing under the table at a million miles per hour.

“Dr Pepper i-if you have it.”

The waitress gave a confirming nod, looking over at Brian.

“I’ll just stick with water.”

She nodded, her gaze landing on Tim.

“I’ll just have black coffee, thanks.”

Once she left, you were eager to resume the conversation. “Must be exciting work, traveling all of the time. I assume it’s all paid right? Like traveling fees and food,” You say. Toby couldn’t help but feel nervous around you, the brunette forcing himself to join the conversation. “Y-yeah it’s p-pretty nice,” He replied. He felt his neck begin to twitch, Brian’s eyes shooting daggers at him across the table. “You guys should meet my best friend Nova. She just became the lead detective around here,” You suggested. Tim exchanged glances with Brian. Toby clutched his cup, practically reading their thoughts.

They finally had justification for keeping you around.

The waitress came back, setting the drinks on the table. She clicked her pen as she brought out her notepad from the apron, the sound making Toby’s left arm twitch. “What will you have?” She asked you. You glanced at the menu, clearing your throat. Oddly enough it felt weird having all three of their eyes on you, watching you intently. “I’ll have the barbecue burger with fries, thanks,” You tell her. She took the menu from your hands, looking over at Toby. “I’ll have the same but with two burgers instead of one,” Toby said, giving her a small smile. The waitresses eyebrows raised, but she scribbled it onto her notepad without comment.

Her eyes landed on Brian, who hadn’t glanced at the menu. “I’ll take a veggie burger with no tomato, thank you,” He said simply, handing the waitress the menu. She turned to Tim, who was quick to dismiss her. “Just coffee for me,” He told her. Your eyebrows furrowed as the waitress walked away. You wanted to questions Tim’s denial of food, Toby quick to cut you off. It was far too risky to have you aware of his crippling insomnia. “So what d-do you do for wor-rk?” He asked you. You grinned shyly, hoping the heat that was dashing across your cheeks wasn’t visible. It was.

“It’s a bit silly but I want to be an actress. I’ve always dreamed of being up on the big screen,” You admitted, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Tim sipped his coffee, listening intently. “For now though I work at Olive Garden. Just until I get my big break,” You finished. Toby stared at you in awe. He thought you deserved to be in every movie ever. Including the x rated ones. “You’ll be in Hollywood in no tim-me,” Toby told you, flashing you a big smile. His words provided you relief, Brian’s judgment written across his face. You could tell he didn’t want to be there. You returned Toby’s smile before turning back to Tim.

You had said something, Toby’s sight able to see your lips moving. But his hearing went dull, the diners lights flickering. He set his cup down on the table, trying to count his breathes. One. Two. Inhale. Exhale. This wasn’t real, right? It couldn’t be real. The Operator wouldn’t sought them out here, in such a public place. Right? His gaze landed past Brian, past the heads of the few other people left in the diner. Clear as day in the window, Toby saw a face. Or better said, a mask. He blinked and his breath became shallow as he took in the observers appearance.

Mangled jet black hair, now grown out past her shoulders. A snow white mask with black eyes stared back at Toby through the window, her eyes ominously hidden. Toby would recognize the faded white walmart jacket from anywhere.

What the fuck was Kate doing here?

Toby’s attention came back to the table as the waitress arrived, setting their food in front of them. He looked back at the window, Kate now gone. “You good Tob?” You asked. The brunette turned to look at you, silently shocked you cared. He nodded, giving you a weak smile. “F-fine just thought I saw something,” He replied. Toby shot Brian and Tim a look, one both of them were oblivious to. Did they not see the flickering lights? Brian was too invested in his food, while Tim’s attention was completely focused on you. Toby quietly picked up his burger, taking a bite. Man, you had good taste.

Toby was aware he was schizophrenic. He knew that when his mind went a little too into overdrive he’d see things that weren’t there. Over the years he had grown accustomed to it, making significant progress from his first year with the Operator. Sometimes he’d see his parents or Lyra. If he was in a bad episode he’d even be able to convince himself he was touching Lyra. Like she was really there. He hadn’t seen Lyra or his parents in years. Nor had he seen Kate in at least a year.

Kate the Chaser was a fellow proxy, who spent most of her missions alone. She was quiet and mysterious, never saying too much. As you continued to talk to Tim and Brian, Toby’s mind began to wander. Why was she here? He didn’t show any other signs of being in an episode. The colors in the diner were the same, no strange voices were whispering in his ears. Toby took another bite of his burger, his mind continuing to rack itself for an answer. Kate only came around for one of two reasons. 1. She was doing a favor for one of the Operators brothers or 2. She was there to check on the status of a mission. If it was option two, the three of them were fucked.

“What do you think Toby?” You asked. Your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry what?” He asked meekly. You pointed at his burger. “About the burger? It’s my favorite. They always have apple bacon,” You say. You were so peacefully oblivious, Toby’s scrambled mind feeling like it was glitching. “Very good, love b-barbecue,” He answered. He gave you a weak smile, dipping a fry into some ketchup. “So what’s your family like? They live out here as well?” Brian asked. Toby couldn’t help but feel unsettled, like they were being watched. Out of the three of them Toby was the least prone to excessive paranoia, but right now he felt like it was all too real.

“No I moved away from home. Originally I wanted to go to New York but I ended up here along the way. It’s the closest I can afford to the big city. Besides it’s not too far away,” You say, shrugging. Considering they were in Ohio, Toby concluded this to not be true. However you seemed to be trying to play off your own insecurities and Toby was determined to play along. “Where are you guys from?” You asked, sipping your coke. The lights in the diner flickered again. Toby’s eyes narrowed. “Alabama, nothing special,” Tim answered, earning a kick from Brian under the table. You took another bit of your burger, the sound of faint static flooding your eardrums. Your new friends didn’t seem to hear it, the three of them unnerved.

You decided to try to ignore it, a slight pounding sensation ensuing in your temple. You had no idea the other three heard it as well, four hundred times worse. Toby watched Tim’s head begin to pound, his adam’s apple swallowing as he tried to endure the headache. His gaze flickered over to Brian, his head twitching to the left. “Oh shit,” Toby muttered, dropping his fry. He grabbed the nearby steak knife, watching as Masky and Hoodie nonchalantly began to front. You looked over at Toby, who was shaking as he clutched the black handle of the knife. He was ready to defend your life with his own and a shitty steak knife.

“Tob? You alright?” You asked, eyes widening at the sight of the knife. Toby watched Masky and Hoodie carefully, waiting for them to attack. It was getting late, the four of them the only ones left in the diner. It wouldn’t be hard to kill you and the only waitress left. But you were so kind. So pleasant to be around. Plus, you smelled good. Masky frowned at the sight of you. If he could’ve had it his way he would’ve followed you home, disposing your body in a rancid dumpster. But he knew his place, the Operators request of his presence coming first. Masky dug in his pocket, Toby’s gaze darkening. He placed a wad of cash on the table, sliding out of the booth. “We have something we have to take care of. Why don’t you walk her home Toby?” Masky suggested blandly. Hoodie followed suit, hands dug in his jeans as he trailed after Masky. Hoodie’s lips curled into a cocky smirk, shamelessly checking you out. The duo left the diner quickly, leaving you and Toby dumbfounded.

“Are they bipolar or something?” You asked. Toby released the knife, trying to ignore your bewildered expression. A flash of white ran across the window, Kate’s presence confirmed. “S-something like that-t. Let’s get you home,” Toby suggested nervously. He ushered you out of the diner, anxiously looking around. He couldn’t spot Masky or Hoodie anywhere, nor Kate or the Operator. He sighed in relief, the cold night wind brutal. “I live down this way,” You say, pointing to down town. You wanted to question Tim and Brian’s odd behavior, but ultimately decided against it. Toby walked beside you, the orange street lights illuminating the path. He tried to be quiet, trying to uncover what they did wrong in his mind.

The cold didn’t bother him, but his eyes flickered over to you. You were a shivering mess, goosebumps littering your smooth skin. “H-here. Might n-not smell the best,” He said quickly. He slid off his signature hoodie, handing it to you. “But you’ll be cold,” You pointed out. Toby shook his head. “I don’t get cold-d. Here,” He insisted. Hesitantly you accepted Toby’s hoodie, sliding it on. It smelled like dirt, cologne, and a metallic scent you couldn’t place. “Thank you Toby,” You say, giving him a grin. Toby thought back to the dismemberment of the body. He followed the usual routine. Depending on the victim there were two possible routines.

One being what they called mystery. Toby would extract the teeth, slicing fingerprints and toes off of the victim. Next he’d scoop out the eyes, before slicing out the tongue. After that he’d cut off the head. He’d distribute the fingertips, toes, teeth, eyes, and head to Masky and Hoodie. The three would divide them up evenly, before going their own ways for the night to discard of the evidence. Toby had an all too familiar lake he preferred to dispose his in. The alligators there were practically his friends by now.

The other method, one Toby named chop chop. Or chop for short. His axe skills were utilized, each leg and arm, and of course the head, cut apart limb from limb. This method was recommended when the victim had been attacked from the front. The more raw mushy organs on display, the more likely the wolves would get to the body before a human did. As for the body parts, the proxies had been using barrels full of acid. It was a grueling process, but they were able to bury them in the forest without a long drive to discard of them.

For detective Winston, they had opted to use route two. Chop was quicker. Of course they used chop, wanting to see you as quickly as possible. That’s when it finally hit Toby: Hoodie had slashed his throat. His chest cavity and organs were intact. He was a detective in the force for years. He had a chest tattoo. Thats why the Operator sent Kate. The body had been discovered and identified.

“I know this isn’t the best part of town but it’s all I can afford right now,” You say. Toby snapped out of his thoughts, turning his attention back to you. You had taken his silent pondering as judgment. “I’ve slept in trees before, i’m sure y-your apartment is l-lovel-ly,” Toby told you. You subtly began to walk closer to him, purple neon signs illuminating the rest of the pathway. “It’s not normal I know but i’ve always wanted a tattoo from that shop,” You told him, pointing at ‘Ray’s tattoos’. Toby examined the shop, his eyes scanning over the multiple people getting tatted. He made eye contact with what appeared to be a biker, his gaze returning to you.

“H-how about I go w-with you sometime? I d-don’t have one,” He admitted. You gave him a sheepish smile. “I have one but it’s kinda embarrassing,” You confessed. Toby chuckled, following you into your apartment building. “C-can’t be that bad,” Toby replied. He trailed behind you as you entered the elevator, clicking the button to the fourth floor. “Promise you won’t tell Tim and Brian?” You asked. Toby nodded, preparing himself to see whatever exposure of skin you were going to provide him. Instead you leaned close to him, whispering into his ear, “I have a tramp stamp.”

Toby felt a shiver of ecstasy run down his spine, soaking in the sensation of your hot breath. “O-oh wow,” He blushed. You giggled as the elevator doors opened, walking to your apartment. You stood in front of door 401, turning to Toby. “I really do like you guys you know. Despite their social awkwardness, it’s nice seeing some new faces around here,” You say. Toby could hardly get enough of your praise, his imagination now playing with the idea of your tramp stamp. “T-thank you. We like-e you too,” He said. You gave him a small smile. “I don’t think Brian likes me,” You told him honestly. Toby pretended to play dumb. “Pfft, B-Brian’s just a l-loner. He didn’t like m-me either at first,” He replied. Which, was technically true.

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes flickering to your apartment door. You grabbed your keys, unlocking it. You were about to invite Toby in, the invitation on your lips. Just as you opened your mouth, Nova appeared in front of you. You jumped in surprise. “Nova? Holy shit what are you doing here?” You questioned. You had given Nova your key ages ago for emergencies. There she stood in her pajamas, a file in hand. Toby frowned at the sight of Nova. Why was she there? He wanted time alone with you. Why couldn’t he have you to himself for the night? “I’m sorry I know you were on your date but something new just happened in my case!” She said excitedly. Date? The word date made Toby’s heart flutter. His annoyance of Nova’s presence had temporarily subsided. Her chocolate orbs flickered over to Toby.

“Who’s this?”

You awkwardly turned to Toby. “Oh shit sorry, uh, Toby this is Nova, Nova this is Toby,” You say, introducing the two. Nova stuck out her hand, an apple watch secured on her wrist. “So you’re the hitchhiker,” She mused. Toby could sense her protectiveness of you. “And you’re the detective,” He replied, shaking her hand. The two of them purposefully gave the other a tight squeeze before Nova pulled away. “Alrighty then. Well i’d like to discuss this case with you before dawn,” Nova said, gesturing to the file.

“Of course of course,” You say awkwardly. You turned to Toby. “Here let me give you back your hoodie,” You said. Your fingers began to grab at the hem, Toby’s larger hand stopping you. You hadn’t realized bandages covered a majority of his hands until then. “Keep i-it. I’ll come get it from you late-er,” He told you. You could feel heat dash across your cheeks from his touch. You stood on your tippy toes, planting a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you Toby. I’ll see you soon?”

Toby nodded affirmatively, wishing you a goodnight.

He shoved his hands in his jeans as he walked down the hallway, grinning to himself. You’d be seeing him a lot sooner than you thought.

—> next chapter

[literallykenmaandshoyo]

When It Snows

Bruce Wayne x Reader (gender neutral)Requested by: N/A Proofread: By my bestie Brian :) Genre: Fluff Music: A playlist for a 19th-century villain rejoicing in his fallen enemies Warnings: N/A Summary: Batman doesn't take breaks, but you can convince Bruce Wayne to Author's Note: Bruce Wayne….let me take care of you babygirl…

-Mod Kenma

Even when missions and stakeouts go right, it’s hard for Bruce to catch a break. He had a couple of new stitches and a bruised rib. Of course, you were there to patch him up. It was something that you had to get used to, seeing your husband bruised and bloody, in desperate need of a doctor.

So when winter came, you practically begged Bruce to take a break. It was the holidays, and winter was coming. It was the perfect time to rest and take a moment to breathe. After a long conversation, weighing the pros and cons, you convinced Bruce to take a weekend trip with you.

The two of you booked a cabin in the forest, far enough away to not have to worry about Gotham but close enough to keep tabs on our children. You both packed light, deciding to stay inside and enjoy each other's company. It was a bit chilly but far better than the humidity in Gotham. It was constantly sticky, an uncomfortable warmth.

The cabin was beautiful, furnished with dark oak wood. It was the perfect amount of comfortable and classy. You both began to unpack, enjoying the sound of the birds chirping and the rustle of the trees from the wind. It even began to sprinkle, a rare occurrence. In Gotham, it usually only thundered, fat raindrops crashing down.

Instead of sleeping in the bedroom, the two of you found comfort in the living room, cuddling on the couch in front of the fire. Thick wool blankets covered you both, shielding you from the cold that seeped through the cabin. Moments like this were right out of a romance novel, the soft sound of rain and the warmth of the fireplace.

In the early morning, when you both awoke, Bruce realized how bright it was outside. It was confusing at first. Why was it so bright? The two of you peeked out of a window, curious. To the surprise of both of you, a fresh blanket of snow draped over everything outside. Snow. Snow was so rare that you assumed you'd never see it in your lifetime here. Bruce had the same surprised look on his face as you did, just as amazed.

Without a warning, you slipped on your shoes and opened the front door. A blast of cold air hit you, making you shiver. Bruce followed you outside, draping a sweater over your shoulders. The two of you walked around in the snow, astonished. The snow looked soft, smooth even. It was beautiful. There were small footprints of birds and squirrels, teeny tiny little prints that made you giggle as you bent down to look at them.  

Bruce couldn't stop himself from taking a few pictures of you on his phone, savoring how carefree you looked, and how some snow fell onto your hair whenever you walked near a tree. He couldn't help it, you looked too happy, too pretty to not take some photos. The two of you made silly shapes in the snow with sticks, writing each other's names and drawing.

Bruce's ability to write in the snow was far better than yours, but you were able to draw better stick figures than he could. It seemed laughable,  Bruce Wayne, Batman, and his lover playing in the snow. But right now, he wasn't Bruce Wayne or Batman. He was just Bruce, just a man with his life partner in the snow. There were no paparazzi, no villains, nobody to keep an image up for.

This was something you needed to do more often, finding your own little pockets of time that were filled with moments like this. Where the world is still for a moment, and life is okay.

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x Fem!Reader | Chapter Five

[Masterlist]

Summary: You find things you really shouldn't find, confront people you probably shouldn't confront, and do things you really shouldn't do. Things are only getting murkier.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, mentions of blood/nosebleeds, mind control, consensual mind control, non-consensual recording (?), mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 3.4k

Things just keep getting weirder. Toby seems to hate your guts and hates it even more when you don’t look at him. You can barely look Tim in the eyes ever since the incident in the woods. Brian has been acting off. And you are positive someone has been coming to visit.

You are still sleeping on the couch. There are three rooms in the cabin: Toby’s, Tim’s, and Brian’s. So, you stick with the couch, it’s probably the safest spot for you, you have decided.

No one seems to be getting along anymore and you have a nagging feeling that it’s you. You cannot figure out what to do with this information. It’s been keeping you from sleeping. It’s been almost about four days since The Operator has taken you in. Your vacation is almost over. And you are spiraling. Fast.

It is five o’clock in the morning when you wake up. You look around and see two doors open down the hallway. Tim’s and Brian’s. You are sure they are out doing whatever the fuck has been asked of them. You get up and walk to the kitchen. You had been able to buy some groceries, leaving you to have something to eat. If Toby hasn’t gotten to it first. You sneak into the kitchen, knowing Toby’s still in the cabin makes you uneasy.

You look around, scrounging through the cabinets. You move some stuff around and see a glass bottle glint in the lowlight of the kitchen. Your brows furrow and you grab for it. A bottle of whiskey. You suck in air and look around. You don’t know whose it is, but you need some. After the past few days, you’ve had… You need it.

You have not had anything to eat, there is nothing on your stomach. You don’t care. You just want enough to feel better.

You have not been out drinking in at least six months. You have never had a problem with alcohol. It just made you… loose with your abilities. When you drink, you have barely any control over what the fuck comes out of your mouth. Including the commands you throw at people. So, you had decided it was best to do it when there was no one to control. Leaving you to rarely ever drink.

You really do not care about controlling anyone anymore, so you drink.

It does not take long to take effect on you. You are playing on your phone, giggling and minding your own business. You really do feel like your problems are no longer, well, problems. You feel light, as if you are floating. You get up and walk towards the bathroom. As you pass Brian’s room, something catches your eyes. A camera.

“Hm,” You hum to yourself. “I didn’t know he liked recording things…”

Normally, if you were sober, you would have left it alone. That is none of your business. Yet, you aren’t sober, and you don’t care. You walk into his room, quietly. You look closely at it and ever so gently turn it on, looking at it. You fiddle with it briefly, about to set it back down in frustration when you can’t figure the damn thing out. Until you see a video. It’s you. Asleep on the couch. You think you’re going to vomit. The video ends. You go to the next one.

This one is in the woods. You make out that he’s hiding and there are two people ahead of him. Your stomach drops at the realization of who those people are. Tim’s jacket is undeniably noticeable. His mask pulled up to his head. You can’t see your face, but you know that’s from the other night. Then, it starts. You hear heavy breathing. Brian’s heavy breathing. You think you are going to be sick. You don’t feel so light anymore.

You hear Toby’s door open, and he walks down the hall. He is too groggy to recognize you are probably not where you should be. You stand still. He walks into the kitchen, and you hear him yell.

“My whis-whiskey!” He is pissed.

The front door of the cabin opens, and you debate whether you want to sprint out or hide in his room. The alcohol has you feeling a certain way. You rush out with the camera in hand, and as soon as you spot Brian you fly off the handle.

“What the fuck is this?” You are screaming, having been sent into an unbridled rage. Brian and Tim look at you in horror. They have never seen you so mad. Brian snatches the camera from your hand, and you immediately buck up at him. “Tell me what that is.”

“I don’t-” Brian grabs his head. He shakes it slightly. “Stop!”

You feel blood begin to trickle from your nose. “Tell me what this is!” You grab for the camera, but Brian is quick to maneuver away from you. Static begins to be the only thing you can hear. You let out a pained cry and grab your head. “What the fuck!?” Your head is pounding, and your nose will not stop bleeding.

They’re close… The Operator is close.

Toby rushes into the living room to see what you’re yelling about. You fall to your knees as Toby, Tim, and Brian try to figure out what’s going on. You can hear something being said but you can't make it out. Brian drops beside you and reaches for you. “Don’t fucking touch me!” You hiss, eyes on the floor. Brian’s eyes glaze over, and his hand drops to his side. Until you almost immediately release him from your mental grasp, and he watches you in terror.

“Make it stop!” You scream, a blood curdling scream. “Please, stop!” You are crying. Your nose will not stop bleeding. You know you need to calm down, if they are close, you have to stop. Your mind control is not going to work with the Operator around.

You are hyperventilating. You hear something in your ear. A voice, along with the static. You can make out certain words. Woods, woman, and information. “Okay!” You sob. “Okay!” The static and the nosebleed stop. You fall onto your back and let out a cry. Your eyes shut and you breathe out heavily. The wood floor creaks beside you and someone is crouching next to you. You hear it. He’s right beside your face. You feel it.

“You!” Toby lets out a groan. “You got into- into my whiskey!”

Your eyes open and you look over at him. Your absolute rage keeps you from being scared. You sit up and rub your head. Brian and Tim crouch down too and look a little more worried than Toby does.

“Hey,” Tim’s voice is level, soft. You look at him and wait for him to continue. “Have you ever been able to, I don’t know, mind control without looking at someone?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Uh, you have now.” Brian gives you an awkward smile.

It clicks. You were not looking at Brian when you told him to stop touching you. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “I’ve never-” You shake your head. “Look, I gotta go, before the reason I’m here gets mad and decides to not let me be here anymore.”

You get up and walk to the bathroom. You clean yourself up as best as possible and go to find a shirt to change into. Once you’ve changed and grab your sneakers, you push past Brian, Tim, and Toby.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug dramatically, “to get rid of someone probably!”

“I’m coming th-then.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going alone with you.” You may have sobered up by now, but you are still feeling the confidence that alcohol gives you.

“We’ll come.”

“No!” You shout. “I can do this by myself!”

Toby laughs, “N-no you can’t. You’ve killed one person,” Toby brings up a finger, it twitches as he speaks, “and that w-was under different circumstances.”

“I’m doing this by myself.” You walk out the front door. “I don’t give a fuck what you think.”

They don’t follow you.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You have ended up at the crime scene again. You spot the policewoman from before and figure she’s your target. The scene is almost completely cleaned up. You think they would have moved on by now. The policewoman is looking for something. More evidence. Evidence of you.

You suck in air and walk from behind the tree.

“This place is off limits!” She puts her hand on her gun. You don’t stop walking. “If you’re lost-”

“Not lost.” You respond. You look at the blood stained ground and grimace. “Y’know,” you look at her, your eyes locking with hers, “I may have some information for you. About this case.”

“We can go to the police station-”

“Not necessary.” You shake your head. “Come here.” You watch her follow your directions. She listens to you effortlessly. Her face drops when she reaches you.

“How did you-” She goes to grab her radio.

“Do not call anyone.” Your anger from earlier is still coursing through you. “I wanna talk.” You purse your lips. “What do you know about this case? Tell me everything.”

She begins talking instantly. “John killed himself. He came back to his hometown to kill himself.”

“What about Ethan? Tell me what he says.” You cross your arms. You need to know.

“Ethan says someone made John kill himself. His ex. Ethan says John told him that his ex is a wicked woman, whose words hold more weight and power than anyone knows or believes.”

You nod. “Perfect. Thank you for cooperating.” You smile at her. Her face drops and her lips turn downward into a frown. Her hand goes to her gun again. You shake your head. “Do not shoot me.” You grab her arm and look at her a little harder, she does not look away. “You are going to go back to the police station and act like nothing happened. We did not speak. You did not see me.” Your grip tightens. “And tell Ethan that John was right.”

You release the officer, and she walks back to her car. She drives off and you sigh. You are grateful for not having to kill her. But you still can’t help but feel some sort of anger at yourself for what you have done. A tree branch breaks from behind you, and you tense. Your head snaps back and you step towards the noise.

“Brian?” You shout. You let out a low growl and begin to walk towards the trees. “I know someone is there!” You yell out again. The woods are silent. You shake your head and take your time to walk back to the cabin.

Cold air hits your lungs as you inhale deeply. You close your eyes and shove your hands into your pockets. You hear wood being chopped before you see anything. You are close to the cabin. You want to groan, but you refrain.

Your eyes spot Tim, he’s chopping wood. He looks great, you make a mental note of that. You try to not think too hard about it though. As you walk towards the cabin, Tim stops. He looks at you and puts his ax down. You keep walking.

Your name rolls off his tongue. You almost turn around, but you don’t. You keep walking towards the porch. The door swings open and Brian and Toby walk out.

“Did one of you follow me?” You stop and look between the three of them.

“No.” Toby crosses his arms, “Y-You said you could handle it.” He deadpans.

You feel much colder suddenly. “Then who the fuck was in the woods with me?”

They all look at you in confusion. “What are you talking about?” Tim asks, taking a step closer to you.

“I assumed that asshole-” You point at Brian, “was recording me again!” You cross your arms, glaring at him. “But…” You pause, “if it wasn’t one of you… Someone is in the fucking woods.” You look between them. “I know I heard someone-”

“What were you doing?” Brian asks. “I mean, you just sorta tore outta here…”

“I was taking care of some things.” You huff. “Doing what I was told.” They all stare at you, asking what it was you were told to do. “The policewoman Masky and I saw was back at the crime scene. I just- I told her what I needed to.” This causes all of them to tense. You roll your eyes. “Come on guys, I’m not a fucking idiot. I just figured out what she knew and tried to find some stuff out about Ethan. And then, I told her to forget she talked to me.”

“And it w-worked?” Toby’s lip turns up, his bandage on the other side of his lips moving up slightly.

“Yes.” You want to punch all of them, you think. “I can actually mind control people that are not you three without fucking dying from blood loss or a massive migraine.”

Toby seems about as done as you are. Except he acts on his feelings. “I’m ti-tired of your attitude!” He takes a step, leaping off of the porch. This causes you to flinch back. Fear like the night he chased you down comes flooding back. “See!” He points at you. “You- You’re a fucking pu-pussy!”

Your face contorts. Tim does not let you respond. He steps between you and Toby, placing himself in his line of fire. Toby does not like this. Brian takes a step off the porch and onto the steps. He’s watching closely.

“Toby,” Tim warns, “Leave it.”

“Shut the-the fuck up!” Toby begins to yell. “If she wa-wants me to stop she’ll have to make me!”

“Make you?” You peek from behind Tim. “I can’t use my abilities on you without consequences!” You are screaming. “I am not using them on you again! On any of you! You aren’t worth it!”

This sets Toby off. “Worth it?” Toby looks like he is going to physically move Tim away from you. He lets out a laugh, an angry laugh. You look at him in terror and confusion. “We are-aren’t worth it?” He stalks towards you, causing Tim to step forward at him. “You’re on-only here because of your powers!” Toby is seething. “You are weak and useless with-without them!”

“Toby!” Tim’s hands hit Toby’s chest. You want to run but that didn’t end so well last time, so you stay still. “Knock it off!”

“You’re just s-saying that ‘cause you like her!” Toby snaps at Tim.

“Like you weren’t in the woods jacking it to her?” Brian almost laughs out. It’s comical really. You don’t think so, but he seems to.

“You were record-recording her!” Toby turns to Brian and growls out.

“That was not-”

“Sorry,” Toby is directing his energy at Brian now, “that w-was Hoodie. My bad!” You are left watching this unfold. You feel like you are outside looking in. You want them to stop. They do not.

“You sound like a jealous bitch!” Tim yells. “You just want her so fucking bad, you look absolutely stupid!”

“I could say the same f-for you two!” Toby points between Brian and Tim. You wonder if you can get away without them noticing. You slowly take a step back, scooting away from the three. Toby scoffs, “I mean, l-look at how nice you t-t-two have been to her! You want her just as badly as I do!”

Oh. They all want you. Is that why Toby has been so mean? You don’t like that.

With that, you take off in a dead sprint. You have time to make some headway. You hope once you get into the woods that you can lose them easily.

“Hey!” Toby calls out first, causing Tim and Brian to turn to you. “H-Hey!”

You are gone. The three take off after you. You realize extremely quickly you are not in shape to be running away from three trained killers, but that does not stop you. Instead, you keep going. Even when you hear footsteps catching up to you. That is, until arms wrap tightly around your torso.

“Calm down,” Brian says in your ear.

“I think I’m acting totally normal after that confession back there.” You go limp in his arms, tired from running. You know you aren’t getting out of his grip, so what’s the point in trying? Toby and Tim catch up to the two of you. You are dangling in Brian’s arms.

“What was that?” Tim asks.

“I was running away,” You look at him. “I don’t know where. But fuck!” You begin to wiggle in Brian’s arms. “Anywhere is better than here right now.” You sigh. There is a silence between the four of you. “Can we just… Go back to the cabin?” You want to pretend like you did not just hear what you had.

“Of course.” Brian releases you. He stays close though. They all do.

You begin to walk back. Slowly and painfully.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After taking a little nap you decide it’s time to eat. You sit at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. You finally got your bowl of cereal. You stare at the food in front of you while you eat. Your mind is completely blank. You are gone. You barely hear when the chair in front of you moves out and someone sits down. You look up and find Toby. Your stomach twists.

“Toby-” Your voice is a warning. “What?” He’s looking at you, his eyes won't leave yours. You swallow hard, placing your spoon down and giving Toby all of your attention. “Did you come to apologize?” It's the first thing that comes out of your mouth. You instantly regret it.

Toby recoils. “No!” He barks at you. He seems somewhat embarrassed about what he wants to ask. “I want y-you to practice your mind control o-on me.”

You want to laugh. Genuinely. “Toby. Do you want me to get a headache and a nosebleed?” Now, this? This is comical. “I already said I wasn't going to use my powers on any of you.”

“You we-were able to control Br-Brian without looking at him.” Toby crosses his arms.

“You want me to practice on you because of that?” You question him. “That was probably a fluke. Why do you want to help me?”

Toby slams his hands against the table and stands up. You are growing tired of this. Toby turns to walk off. “Toby…” He doesn't turn back around. You inhale deeply and close your eyes. “Toby, why do you want me to control you?” Blood almost immediately trickles from your nose. Nothing you can't handle though.

He stops dead in his tracks, but he still doesn't turn around. “I can fe-feel something.”

“What?”

“Do it a-again.” Toby turns around to you.

“No!” You grab a napkin and wipe your nose. “Toby, I'm going to get-”

“Let me g-guess… Tim.” Toby rolls his eyes. You tense as Toby stalks back towards you. “Y-you seem to like him the most.”

He is jealous. You stand up from your seat and look at Toby. He's on the other side of the table, leaning towards you. “Why do you want me to use my power on you?” You ask again.

Toby’s eyes glaze over, and he begins to talk. “I have CIP, I don't feel pain like most people do.”

It clicks. You release Toby and wipe your nose again. He wants to feel something. You hum and look at him. You debate on asking him about Brian and Hoodie, or Tim and Masky. “What’s up with Brian and Tim?”

“They have dissociative identity disorder.” His answers stay short and sweet. You nod at him. Toby takes in a deep breath and watches you. He twitches slightly as you stare at him. “What?”

“Do you want to continue?” It comes out sassier than you want it to.

“N-N-No,” He turns and walks off. “I gotta go-” He cuts himself off and begins to walk to his room. As he walks off down the hall, you have an inkling of an idea of what he’s going to do. You try not to think too hard about it.

That doesn’t work. All you can think about is what Toby could possibly be doing. You have not relieved your own stress in so long… You aren’t hungry anymore. You need release. How the hell are you supposed to find that in a house with three men without them tormenting you about it? You need to find something out. And fast.

[gyaru-tau]

FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

[booliuu]

Can you write random ticci toby headcanons

heeeey, thx for checking out my blog!!! :D and of course! The headcanons are bit long because i love yapping about this silly guy TvT.

TW: self harm

pt 2

᭄᭡ Ticci toby General Headcanons ⊹₊

• German 🇩🇪. When he is pissed he will curse under his breath in german🧍‍♀️ no one in the mansion knows what the hell he’s saying. Has a slight accent too..!

•He’s super tall like standing between something like 5’6 or close to 6’2.. BUT HAS SUPER BAD POSTURE LIIIKE….

•Im sticking with his canon age so he’s around his mid 30’s by now .

• His favorite colors has to be green , orange, brown, red, yk warm colors.

• His hobbies consist of animal watching and petting random animals that he founds crossing path during missions or just simply hanging out around the slender forest far away from other creeps because he values his alone time.

• wood craving !!!

• speaking of wood craving oh my gosh he’s really good at it, sometimes he make his friends wooden animal figures and will leave them in their room’s as a presents :) he’s so sweet…

• listening to music from phones that he stolen from people he encounters ( if you know what i mean..)

• drawing animals he finds interesting :) I like the idea of him having a sketchbook dedicated for this specifically.

• Speaking of his hobbies , he preferable likes to do them alone because he gets overwhelmed easily ( I blame his father -) and considering his past and being teased frequently about his tics and so forth he close to non verbal. But if he does talk it close to really short responses.

Here’s angst headcanons ( it’s mostly about his past) . . . TW: self harm

• I am a very firm believer that the name “ ticci toby” was not a chosen name but rather a nickname from his bullies from school that tease him. he absolutely hates the name.

• When his family found out about his diagnoses of CIPA ( Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis) they had to take matters into their own hands, and they all made sure to the house is safe for him. Such putting tabs on their showers or bath tubs so he doesn’t burn himself alive or it’s so cold that it’s concerning, making sure the food he eating isn’t too hot or cold, yk stuff like that..

• With tourette’s , I have a feeling his parents put him through countless speech & physical therapy. None will work and his father would yell at him about something he can’t control.

• When he found out about his CIPA , he tries desperately to feel pain or even any kind of bodily sensations. Such as ( TW : SELF HARM) scratching himself until he bleed , hitting himself , stuff like that. Mainly because he confused as hell why he can’t feel anything. My guess is that he so frustrated about it he can’t wrap around his head that’s the way he is.

• Every night , he goes to bed fall asleep to thoughts about what his life would been like if he was not like this….

OOOK enough angst!! here’s the continuation of his general headcanons . . .

• Yk how he has a scar on his face. Well many people like to state that he doesn’t take care of it..blah ..blah.. hides it with a mask that he always wears. Personally I feel like he takes care of himself by adding cream on to it ( proscribed by eyeless jack himself :D) , slowly but surely the scar looks better than when he first got it, he wears the mask to protect it from getting infections. ^^

• has a sweet tooth!!! It’s not just about waffles y’all just sayin…

• Even though he preferable like to do missions alone. He will sometimes bring someone with him like tim, brian , kate ( basically the whole gang-) , or ej .

• Not only he has CIPA & tourette’s but I believe he has schizophrenia, PTSD , Bipolar disorder and amnesia. especially with his encounter of slenderman is it made far worse…

dividers credit: @arneefigisikir , @saradika-graphics & @nakaharaism

A/n: Oh my gosh this was so fun to make!! I’m sorry if sentences were typed a bit weird , wonky , or very wordy TvT. I just reread your ask and it said random but… i thought it said general. i’m.. so sorry 🥲I hope this is alright if not my inbox is always open for requests :,D

* as always feedback is always welcome. if you like my content please don’t get to like or reblog ^^

liuuboo2025 do not copy , translate or plagiarize any of my works. thank you ♡ﾟ

[hardcoreguystickfigure]

Some detailed drawings of Hardcore Guy and Brian 🤘🎸🔥

[iamfartoolonelyformyowngood]

Marble Hornets Boys X Reader Christmas Headcanons

Merry Christmas! I love you all and thank you for the support. Feel free to request things in my asks btw!

📹~Alex Kralie~📹

-Alex gives extravagant gifts and tries his best to shower everyone he loves with presents.

-Art supplies, books, DVDs, albums, materials for any hobbies, video games. You name it he buys it for you.

-If you buy him anything he beams and gets extra affectionate. Secretly he dreams of you buying him a camera.

-"Oh! Thanks! I've been needing this for a few months. You're a star."

📷~Jay Merrick~📷

-Jay gives a few he feels you'd like. A book you mentioned, a special edition DVD of a movie you like. Things like that. Oh and incense, his go to gift for everyone.

-And a gemstone advent calendar his mother insisted on buying for you.

-Jay's attached to your hip all day and will cry if he gets a present. He will savour it for years.

-"You're my favourite present."

~🌻Brian Thomas🌻~

-Brian would buy some art supplies you mentioned liking and some food, his issue is that he always buys you things when you ask for them immediately so Christmas shopping is hard.

-You get random gifts from his brothers, one gives a sharktooth necklace, one a seashell, his 6 year old brother drew you in a drawing of his family (as a very flattering smiling stick figure besides a taller stick figure that represented brian.)

-His parents ask if you need a laptop or phone or anything too.

-Tim will give you some perfume or cologne or something, he wants to support your relationship but isn't the best with gifts.

-Brian's attached to your hip like Jay the whole day too.

-He's flattered and even gets a little flustered if he gets a gift. Maybe a silent tear or two.

-"Y-you really didn't have to do a thing for me!....but thanks."

~🚬Tim Wright🚬~

-Tim can't give many gifts due to lack of money.

-He gives you a few poorly done wood carvings he did at home and he buys you anything he can within his means.

-If he gets any gift he'll cry and hold you and tell you how much he appreciates you. He can count on one hand the number of gifts he got growing up, hell even a lot of his clothes were ones the hospital gave him, he stole or he found lying around the trailer. A gift from you is a gift from God.

-He may or may not drag you to visit Brian too.

-"I love you so much baby, you know that right? I'm the luckiest man alive to know I'm yours. I'll put in extra shifts at work if you need anything, okay?"

[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST 💞

Chapter 13

            Brian had managed to pull it together enough to get some work done. But as it neared lunchtime, he took notice of his aching bladder. He had tried to ignore the dampness of his pull-up from his earlier episode. It wasn’t by any means soaked, but he would feel better when he changed. He reached into his bag and pulled out a pull-up. He panicked when he realized he would have to sneak it out of his office. It might look odd carrying his work bag into the bathroom. He looked back at the pull-up and thought it was thin enough to wedge it between his waist band and his back and put on his jacket to conceal it. He called Samantha into office.

            “Yes, Mr. Sullivan?, she asked.

            “Um yes, I need you to hold my calls for a few minutes.” He shuffled papers on his desk, trying not to reveal his nervousness. “I think a walk will do me some good, maybe clear my head before the meeting this afternoon.”

            “Absolutely. I think that is a great idea. Is there anything else I can do?” she asked with a genuine smile.

            “You know what, there is. I want you in that meeting with me this afternoon. I want your eyes on this new project.”

She beamed. Although he often asked for her input, he had never brought her to one of these big project meetings. “Yes...yes I will absolutely be there.”

“Excellent. Ok I will be back in a bit,” he said as walked out the door. She watched him as he departed. He jacket was bunched in the back. She could something protruding from the waist of his pants. She couldn’t see it long as he disappeared from the doorway. She thought it crazy, but thought that it looked like a diaper. She was about to make her exit when she dropped her pen. It rolled down by his bag and she bent down to retrieve it. That’s when she noticed a ribbon connected to clip underneath his bag. That was curious. She pulled it free and discovered what was at the other end of the clip: a pacifier. A moment ago, she swore she a diaper sticking out of his pants and now she was holding a pacifier. She was nearly certain that he didn’t have any children. Why would this be here? Then she noticed that it was abnormally large. It looked far too big for any child. Was this his? She clutched it into her hand and walked out to her desk where she shoved it in a drawer.

            Brian nervously shuffled through the office. Brian had always had bathroom anxiety. He hated going into a bathroom with several stalls already occupied. He never understood how people could go so easily with others in earshot. If it looked like a bathroom was quite full, he had no turning around and waiting for another time. He would even walk clear across the building to one of the more secluded bathrooms to have some privacy. That’s where he planned on going now. Although it would take longer to get there, it might be an easier place to change. As it was the lunch hour, much of the office was vacant. Brian breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the bathroom and found all the stalls empty.

            He closed the door behind him and removed his jacket. He stood there for a moment trying to figure out how to do this. If his mommy were here, she would know exactly what to do. After a moment, he realized he had no choice but to completely undress. He slipped out of his shoes and proceeded to strip down. Here he was standing in an office bathroom in nothing but his socks, a onesie and a damp pull up. He never could have imagined this when he left work on Friday. He unfastened the snaps of the onesie and tore off the onesie. He pulled up his onesie while he used the bathroom. His bladder was super full and he felt instant relief. When he finished, he slipped on the new pullup and proceeded to redress himself. This was going to be a big problem if he was going to have to completely undress every time he needed to use the bathroom. He walked out of the stall and placed the used pull-up in the trashcan. He wadded up several paper towels and threw them over top of the discarded pull-up in hopes that no one would see it. He washed his hands and looked himself over in the mirror. He felt confident that his onesie was properly concealed, and he started to make his way back to his office.

            As he passed Samantha’s desk, he flashed a nervous smile and quickly shuffled into his office. He had just settled back into his chair, when she knocked at his door. “May I come in?” she asked through the door.

            Brian exhaled, “Sure.”

            “That was a pretty fast walk sir. Is there anything you need before the big meeting this afternoon?” she asked in a sweet tone.

            He looked up at her with an almost quizzical gaze. She was always a diligent employee, but today she seemed to be extra attentive, almost doting. He couldn’t put his finger on it. “A coffee would be wonderful. I could use a pick me up.”

            “Glady,” and she was off. Brian tried to focus his mind on the upcoming meeting. Today was the first that he had of the Babies R Us project. He didn’t even know they were a client. But why did they want him on the project? He was feeling pensive again and he reached into his bag, fishing for his pacifier. Nothing. His chest grew tight and his stomach was in knots again. He frantically threw the bag on his desk to search the bag more thoroughly. As he searched, Samantha came back in with his coffee.

            “Is everything alright Mr. Sullivan?" she asked with concern. She saw the frantic expression on his face. He tried to make up an excuse that he had momentarily lost his wedding ring.

            He placed the bag back on the ground, “All good. Thank you for the coffee.” She knew that he had to have been looking for the pacifier she found earlier. It probably explained why he was acting so weird. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for taking it, but she had so many questions She guessed her own curiosity possessed her to grab it. For a split second she thought about retrieving it from her desk and returning it. However, with the meeting approaching, it seemed like a bad time. She would wait until it was time to head home.

            The hour of the meeting arrived and the two walked into the conference room. Mr. Gates was already seated as well as several of his other colleagues. “Ah Mr. Sullivan, just the man I have been waiting to see. Please take your seat and we will get started in just a moment.”

            Brian sat down at opened his notebook. Samantha went to take a seat at a chair on the perimeter of the room, but he beckoned for her to sit next to him. “I hope you don’t mind Mr. Gates, I have invited Ms. Carson to sit in on this meeting. I think she might some fresh perspective.”

            “Of course not Mr. Sullivan. Your work for this company has been impeccable. You have been invaluable to this company. Now as you may know, Babies R Us as hired us to help them market a new product line. If we knock this out of the park, they may work with us exclusively. Mr. Johnson here is going to brief us a bit more on the details. The floor is yours sir.”

            Mark Johnson passed around a packet of information to everyone in attendance, “Thank you Mr. Gates. As he said Babies R Us wants us to market this new line of products. As you can see here it is called Mommy Knows Best. It includes everything from diapers and clothing to strollers and furniture. Brian stared down at the line of products listed in the packet. He kept his head down. He prayed he wasn’t blushing too bad. He was sitting in a conference room listening to a presentation on a line of baby products while underneath his professional attire, he was clad in a pull-up and onesie. Samantha noticed his discomfort but recognized there was little that she could do in the moment. Brian struggled to focus and was only partially paying attention. As Mark spoke, he noticed a twinge in his bladder. He shouldn’t have had that coffee.

         ��  Mark continued on, “As you can guess with a name like Mommy Knows Best, we want to drive home that idea that no one knows what’s best for their baby than a mother. We want them to associate this line of product as the best possible decision for all of their baby’s needs.” Brian began to quietly fidget in his seat. He absent mindedly bounced his leg. Samantha had never seen Brian act this way. He was usually so calm and collected. Brian tried to focus, but his full bladder interrupted his concentration. He decided to try and pee a little bit with the hope of reducing the pressure. He took a breath and relaxed his muscles, but instead of just letting out a small spurt, the damn burst. There was nothing he could do to stop it as his pull was being put to its limit. Samantha looked over convinced she heard a hissing sound. Brian tried to look nonchalant, but he was on the verge of panic attack.

            Mark finished his presentation. Mr. Gates stood up and looked directly at Brian, “Mr. Sullivan can we rely on you to handle this project.”

            Brian stammered, “Uh yes…yes of course of Mr. Gates.”

            “Very well then. Thank you everyone,” Mr. Gates said and exited the conference room. Brian stood up without a word. He could feel the weight of his pullup. He was too scared to see if he leaked into his pants. He raced out of the room without waiting for Samantha to accompany him. She had no clue as how to help.

            Brian reached the safety of his office and locked the door behind him. He pulled down his pants to inspect. He could feel that his onesie was damp, but his pants remained dry. He hoped he could make it till the end of the day. He unlocked his door and went back to his desk. As he sat down, he felt the squish of his pull-up. He just wanted to cry. He needed his mommy. He sat staring at his computer screen in a total fog. Finally a knock at the door jolted him from his daze. “Mr. Sullivan is there anything else I can do before I head home?” He looked down at phone and realized the time. “No Ms. Carson. Thank you for all you hard work today,” he said through the door.

            Brian gathered his things and walked briskly out of his office. He reached his car and set his bag inside. He was just about to hop in when he heard his name called. He swung around to see Samantha running towards him.

            “Ms. Carson, is everything ok?” he called to her.

            “I need to apologize to you,” she said while opening her hand to reveal something sitting on her palm. “I found this on the floor of your office. I am so so sorry Mr. Sullivan. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just grabbed it and I shouldn’t have. I have no idea what’s going on. I know you were under a lot of stress today. I want you to know that I am here if there is anything I can do, not only as a coworker, but as a friend. You have always been so kind and respectful to me.”

            Brian’s face could not hide his shock as he took the pacifier from her. He was completely flabbergasted. He tried to speak, but no words escaped his mouth. She reached up and in a comforting manner, placed her hand on his arm. “There is no judgement from me. You are a good man, Brian. Oh and, you might want to get some thicker protection,” and with that she walked away. Brian quickly patted his backside and realized that several wet spots had formed. He hopped down in the car and tried to process what had just happened. He looked down at the pacifier still in his hand. After a moment, he surrendered to his needs and popped it into his mouth and proceeded to drive home.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A year in illustration, 2023 edition (part one)

(This is part one; part two is here.)

I am objectively very bad at visual art. I am bad at vision, period – I'm astigmatic, shortsighted, color blind, and often miss visual details others see. I can't even draw a stick-figure. To top things off, I have cataracts in both eyes and my book publishing/touring schedule is so intense that I keep having to reschedule the surgeries. But despite my vast visual deficits, I thoroughly enjoy making collages for this blog.

For many years now – decades – I've been illustrating my blog posts by mixing public domain and Creative Commons art with work that I can make a good fair use case for. As bad as art as I may be, all this practice has paid off. Call it unseemly, but I think I'm turning out some terrific illustrations – not all the time, but often enough.

Last year, I rounded up my best art of the year:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/25/a-year-in-illustration/

And I liked reflecting on the year's art so much, I decided I'd do it again. Be sure to scroll to the bottom for some downloadables – freely usable images that I painstakingly cut up with the lasso tool in The Gimp.

The original AD&D hardcover cover art is seared into my psyche. For several years, there were few images I looked at so closely as these. When Hasbro pulled some world-beatingly sleazy stuff with the Open Gaming License, I knew just how to mod Dave Trampier's 'Eve Of Moloch' from the cover of the Players' Handbook. Thankfully, bigger nerds than me have identified all the fonts in the image, making the remix a doddle.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/12/beg-forgiveness-ask-permission/#whats-a-copyright-exception

Even though I don't keep logs or collect any analytics, I can say with confidence that "Tiktok's Enshittification" was the most popular thing I published on Pluralistic this year. I mixed some public domain Brother's Grimm art, mixed with a classic caricature of Boss Tweed, and some very cheesy royalty-free/open access influencer graphics. One gingerbread cottage social media trap, coming up:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

To illustrate the idea of overcoming walking-the-plank fear (as a metaphor for writing when it feels like you suck) I mixed public domain stock of a plank, a high building and legs, along with a procedurally generated Matrix "code waterfall" and a vertiginous spiral ganked from a Heinz Bunse photo of a German office lobby.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/22/walking-the-plank/

Finding a tasteful way to illustrate a story about Johnson & Johnson losing a court case after it spent a generation tricking women into dusting their vulvas with asbestos-tainted talcum was a challenge. The tulip (featured in many public domain images) was a natural starting point. I mixed it with Jesse Wagstaff's image of a Burning Man dust-storm and Mike Mozart's shelf-shot of a J&J talcum bottle.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/01/j-and-j-jk/#risible-gambit

"Google's Chatbot Panic" is about Google's long history of being stampeded into doing stupid things because its competitors are doing them. Once it was Yahoo, now it's Bing. Tenniel's Tweedle Dee and Dum were a good starting point. I mixed in one of several Humpty Dumpty editorial cartoon images from 19th century political coverage that I painstakingly cut out with the lasso tool on a long plane-ride. This is one of my favorite Humpties, I just love the little 19th C businessmen trying to keep him from falling! I finished it off with HAL 9000's glowing red eye, my standard 'this is about AI' image, which I got from Cryteria's CC-licensed SVG.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/16/tweedledumber/#easily-spooked

Though I started writing about Luddites in my January, 2022 Locus column, 2023 was the Year of the Luddite, thanks to Brian Merchant's outstanding Blood In the Machine:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/26/enochs-hammer/#thats-fronkonsteen

When it came time to illustrate "Gig Work Is the Opposite of Steampunk," I found a public domain weaver's loft, and put one of Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes in the window. Magpie Killjoy's Steampunk Magazine poster, 'Love the Machine, Hate the Factory,' completed the look.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/12/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk/

For the "small, non-profit school" that got used as an excuse to bail out Silicon Valley Bank, I brought back Humpty Dumpty, mixing him with a Hogwartsian castle, a brick wall texture, and an ornate, gilded frame. I love how this one came out. This Humpty was made for the SVB bailout.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/23/small-nonprofit-school/#north-country-school

The RESTRICT Act would have federally banned Tiktok – a proposal that was both technically unworkable and unconstitutional. I found an early 20th century editorial cartoon depicting Uncle Sam behind a fortress wall that was keeping a downtrodden refugee family out of America. I got rid of most of the family, giving the dad a Tiktok logo head, and I put Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes over each cannonmouth. Three Boss Tweed moneybag-head caricatures, adorned with Big Tech logos, rounded it out.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/30/tik-tok-tow/#good-politics-for-electoral-victories

When Flickr took decisive action to purge the copyleft trolls who'd been abusing its platform, I knew I wanted to illustrate this with Lucifer being cast out of heaven, and the very best one of those comes from John Milton, who is conveniently well in the public domain. The Flickr logo suggested a bicolored streaming-light-of-heaven motif that just made it.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/01/pixsynnussija/#pilkunnussija

Old mainframe ads are a great source of stock for a "Computer Says No" image. And Congress being a public building, there are lots of federal (and hence public domain) images of its facade.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/04/cbo-says-no/#wealth-tax

When I wrote about the Clarence Thomas/Harlan Crow bribery scandal, it was easy to find Mr. Kjetil Ree's great image of the Supreme Court building. Thomas being a federal judge, it was easy to find a government photo of his head, but it's impossible to find an image of him in robes at a decent resolution. Luckily, there are tons of other federal judges who've been photographed in their robes! Boss Tweed with the dollar-sign head was a great stand-in for Harlan Crow (no one knows what he looks like anyway). Gilding Thomas's robes was a simple matter of superimposing a gold texture and twiddling with the layers.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/06/clarence-thomas/#harlan-crow

"Gig apps trap reverse centaurs in wage-stealing Skinner boxes" is one of my best titles. This is the post where I introduce the idea of "twiddling" as part of the theory of enshittification, and explain how it relates to "reverse centaurs" – people who assist machines, rather than the other way around. Finding a CC licensed modular synth was much harder than I thought, but I found Stephen Drake's image and stitched it into a mandala. Cutting out the horse's head for the reverse centaur was a lot of work (manes are a huuuuge pain in the ass), but I love how his head sits on the public domain high-viz-wearing warehouse worker's body I cut up (thanks, OSHA!). Seeing as this is an horrors-of-automation story, Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes make an appearance.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Rockefeller's greatest contribution to our culture was inspiring many excellent unflattering caricatures. The IWW's many-fists-turning-into-one-fist image made it easy to have the collective might of workers toppling the original robber-baron.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

I link to this post explaining how to make good Mastodon threads at least once a week, so it's a good thing the graphic turned out so well. Close-cropping the threads from a public domain yarn tangle worked out great. Eugen Rochko's Mastodon logo was and is the only Affero-licensed image ever to appear on Pluralistic.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/16/how-to-make-the-least-worst-mastodon-threads/

I spent hours on the sofa one night painstakingly cutting up and reassembling the cover art from a science fiction pulp. I have a folder full of color-corrected, high-rez scans from an 18th century anatomy textbook, and the cross-section head-and-brain is the best of the lot.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/04/analytical-democratic-theory/#epistocratic-delusions

Those old French anatomical drawings are an endless source of delight to me. Take one cross-sectioned noggin, mix in an old PC mainboard, and a vector art illo of a virtuous cycle with some of Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes and you've got a great illustration of Google's brain-worms.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/14/googles-ai-hype-circle/

Ireland's privacy regulator is but a plaything in Big Tech's hand, but it's goddamned hard to find an open-access Garda car. I manually dressed some public domain car art in Garda livery, painstakingly tracing it over the panels. The (public domain) baby's knit cap really hides the seams from replacing the baby's head with HAL9000's eye.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Naked-guy-in-a-barrel bankruptcy images feel like something you can find in an old Collier's or Punch, but I came up snake-eyes and ended up frankensteining a naked body into a barrel for the George Washington crest on the Washington State flag. It came out well, but harvesting the body parts from old muscle-beach photos left George with some really big guns. I tried five different pairs of suspenders here before just drawing in black polyhedrons with little grey dots for rivets.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/03/when-the-tide-goes-out/#passive-income

Illustrating Amazon's dominance over the EU coulda been easy – just stick Amazon 'A's in place of the yellow stars that form a ring on the EU flag. So I decided to riff on Plutarch's Alexander, out of lands to conquer. Rama's statue legs were nice and high-rez. I had my choice of public domain ruin images, though it was harder thank expected to find a good Amazon box as a plinth for those broken-off legs.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/14/flywheel-shyster-and-flywheel/#unfulfilled-by-amazon

God help me, I could not stop playing with this image of a demon-haunted IoT car. All those reflections! The knife sticking out of the steering wheel, the multiple Munsch 'Scream'ers, etc etc. The more I patchked with it, the better it got, though. This one's a banger.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

To depict a "data-driven dictatorship," I ganked elements of heavily beribboned Russian military dress uniforms, replacing the head with HAL9000's eye. I turned the foreground into the crowds from the Nuremberg rallies and filled the sky with Matrix code waterfall.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/26/dictators-dilemma/#garbage-in-garbage-out-garbage-back-in

The best thing about analogizing DRM to demonic possession is the wealth of medieval artwork to choose from . This one comes from the 11th century 'Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros.' I mixed in the shiny red Tesla (working those reflections!), and a Tesla charger to make my point.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

Yet more dividends from those old French anatomical plates: a flayed skull, a detached jaw, a quack electronic gadget, a Wachowski code waterfall and some HAL 9000 eyes and you've got a truly unsettling image of machine-compelled speech.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

I had no idea this would work out so well, but daaaamn, crossfading between a Wachowski code waterfall and a motherboard behind a roiling thundercloud is dank af.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

Of all the turkeys-voting-for-Christmas self-owns conservative culture warriors fall for, few can rival the "banning junk fees is woke" hustle. Slap a US-flag Punisher logo on and old-time card imprinter, add a GOP logo to a red credit-card blank, and then throw in a rustic barn countertop and you've got a junk-fee extracter fit for the Cracker Barrel.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

Putting the Verizon logo on the Hinderberg was an obvious gambit (even if I did have to mess with the flames a lot), but the cutout of Paul Marcarelli as the 'can you hear me now?' guy, desaturated and contrast-matched, made it sing.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/10/smartest-guys-in-the-room/#can-you-hear-me-now

Note to self: Tux the Penguin is really easy to source in free/open formats! He looks great with HAL9000 eyes.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means

Rockwell's self-portrait image is a classic; that made it a natural for a HAL9000-style remix about AI art. I put a bunch of time into chopping and remixing Rockwell's signature to give it that AI look, and added as many fingers as would fit on each hand.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/

(Images: Heinz Bunse, West Midlands Police, Christopher Sessums, CC BY-SA 2.0; Mike Mozart, Jesse Wagstaff, Stephen Drake, Steve Jurvetson, syvwlch, Doc Searls, https://www.flickr.com/photos/mosaic36/14231376315, Chatham House, CC BY 2.0; Cryteria, CC BY 3.0; Mr. Kjetil Ree, Trevor Parscal, Rama, “Soldiers of Russia” Cultural Center, Russian Airborne Troops Press Service, CC BY-SA 3.0; Raimond Spekking, CC BY 4.0; Drahtlos, CC BY-SA 4.0; Eugen Rochko, Affero; modified)

[horrificshit]

Limits.

Dom!Lou miller x Sub!Reader

Warning(s): Smut, dumbification, strap on?, daddy kink, age gap

A/N: I decided to write this in a first person point-of-view. Why? Don’t ask me.

Words: 1.8k

Ding!

The sound of my phone going off. Curiosity peaks, I pick up my phone, revealing who messaged me:

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “Hey baby, I’m out doing some errands, can you be dressed by the time I’m home?”

Oh? Why does she want me dressed? Maybe we’re going somewhere fancy? Surely not.. Surprisingly, going to places which require dressing up for are a rare occurrence.

I shoot a text back, giving a response to Lou’s message.

You: “Okay! Should I dress fancy?”

Lou💕: “Yes, you’ll see why once I’m home 😉”

I get up from my once cave-like spot in the king size bed, giving up the warmth of the bedsheets. The room is quite cold due to the crispness of the winter weather in late January.

Speed walking to the closet, I sift through a number of dresses; all of different colors, lengths, patterns, and materials.

a long sleeve dress was obviously the ethical choice given the weather, but a short, skintight dress seemed more ethical in my opinion. Who cares about being cold when id feel like the sexiest girl in the room?

My eyes land on a white satin dress. I don’t think I’ve ever worn this one. Where did I get it again? Maybe from high school prom.

Bleh. Prom. I always hated prom. And evidently, I only went that one time. Brian Richards, the boy I went with, he ended up being a huge duche.

Whatever.

I slip on the dress, and— oh my god. I could literally fuck myself. The dress, it hugs all my curves in all the right places. My collar bones stick out and I find that extremely sexy, and hopefully Lou will think the same.

Shoes.

Grab a pair of white heels. Not to tall, not too short.

My jewelry is dainty. a gold necklace with a small heart. So small in-fact, you can hardly see it. Large gold pearl earrings accompany the necklace.

I trot over to my vanity, gathering a few products: primer, concealer, blush, highlighter, mascara, and lipgloss. Simple, yet bold.

My hair lies in a simple half-up-half-down with, of course, a white bow in the back.

And, just as I get finished, I hear that familiar ding of my phone, notifying me that Lou must be here for me. I check my phone, and to my expectation, I see an incoming message from the older woman.

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “I’m here. Take your time, the reservation isn’t until 6:30.”

Smiling, I put my phone down and take a look in the mirror. Hopefully she likes it as much as I do.

I grab my small brown purse and take yet another look in the mirror, giving one last check before going out the door to greet my girlfriend.

Overall outfit:

I walk toward Lou’s sports car, the cold nipping me in the butt. Literally and figuratively. I sort of regret wearing a sleeveless dress, but whatever, I look amazing.

Lou unlocks the car door, and I enter the vehicle. She looks like she’d seen a ghost from how she was looking at me. Did I look that good?

Her eyes rake up my entire body, stopping at my lips. I smile, flattered and proud of myself that I indeed, do look that good.

“Where are we going?” I inquire, still having not been told why I had to get all dolled up. “Somewhere fancy.” Chuckles Lou, already having naughty thoughts.

She takes the initiative to reach her hand over and grasp onto my thigh. I squeak, not being prepared for her to touch me, but relax a few seconds later.

Some time goes by and I decide to take in what Lou herself is wearing:

She wears a black turtleneck top, a black leather jacket atop. Black skinny jeans, the type that hug her curves, or in reality, her ass, in the most perfect way.

In correlation with the rest of her outfit, she wears black heeled boots. And of course, in typical Lou fashion, her plethora of necklaces lay on top of her chest.

The car stops, and the older woman squeezes my thigh, silently letting me know she’s going to let go, and that we’ve arrived at the final destination.

“We’re here,” Lou says with a smirk. I look up and see a restaurant with a name I cannot even pronounce. At least without stuttering that is. The restaurant looked exclusive; like we weren’t allowed in. But, according to my girlfriend, we are.

We both get out of the car, and I immediately am reminded of how cold it is outside. Lou takes notice of my shivering, and ushers me inside of the restaurant.

The girl in the front greets Lou and I. “Hello, welcome to Novitá, do you have a reservation?”

Lou grabs her phone, pulling up a digital receipt. I didn’t even know that was a thing, but the world changes everyday, I suppose.

“Here,” Lou shows the girl the receipt, looking back at me with a smile.

“If it doesn’t work, my reservation should be under the name Lou Miller.”

She types in her name and smiles back, grabbing two menus. “This way,” we’re leaded to our table, which Lou previously reserved days before.

We both order our drinks, champagne for myself, whilst Lou opts for an ‘old fashioned’, or in other words, whiskey, sugar, and water.

She obviously has a stronger tolerance to alcohol than I do, because I could never handle the extreme burn of whiskey going down my throat. Other things maybe, but definitely not that.

The drinks arrive, and the girl from before, who, upon reading her name tag, appears to be Arabella.

She takes our orders, and apologizes for any delays, the restaurant appears to be quite busy. I look around and take note of the ‘noble looking’ people surrounding the table we’re sat at. We don’t look nearly as rich as them.

“Y/N? What do you want to order?” I’m snapped out of my trance by Lou and brought back into reality. I look at her, and back down at the menu that rests in my hands. ‘Gnocchi di Patate’. That sounds delicious. But wait, $34.99?? How is she getting all of this money?

I open my mouth after some time and tell the waitress what I want. She writes it down, and tells us it may be a while, and to enjoy our drinks.

“So,” Lou starts. She rubs her foot up my leg, making me squirm slightly at the feeling. “I thought you deserved a treat for being such a good girl.”

I look into her eyes. Completely blown out. I can’t help but the small smirk on my face, knowing all to well how this will end: with me bent over,screaming her name, her hand muffling the noise.

“Are you not gonna say anything? Daddy paid a lot of money for this, I think I deserve to at least hear your voice.” I look down, not being able to carry out the eye contact. She continues to rub my leg underneath the table. Good thing there’s a satin mat, covering the whole length of the table, down to the floor.

“I-“ words weren’t an option at this point. My mind is far too small at the moment to even comprehend anything else but the husky voice of the older woman across from me.

“What? Cats got your tongue?,” She starts, staring at me like she’s the predator and I’m her delicious little prey.

“,or are you just too dumb to use your words?” Continues Lou, sending me into a serene headspace. My mind is completely blank, besides the vision of the woman across from me.

TIME SKIP

We finish up with our food, no words being exchanged between Lou and I. Just her speaking to me. Telling me that she thinks I’m beautiful, though some ways more appropriate than others.

The check arrives and she pulls out her platinum card, swiping it. I can’t help but feel bad that she spent that much on me, between the cost of my drink, and the food.

“You ready?” She inquired.

“Mhm.”

I appear to be shy, but in reality, I’m extremely horny. She’s been teasing me all night, and I just know that there’s more in store. If not at home, she’s likely to get impatient and do her business in the car.

Buckling into the car seat, she revs up the engine. I look up at her, smiling innocently with my signature doe eyes. Unlike my own, her eyes are completely blown out. She’s more that ready to pounce when given the chance. Pounce being her having her way with me; not that I’d have a problem with that.

Lou’s hand once again finds its spot on my thigh, where it remains for the duration of the car ride, occasionally feeling a squeeze every now and then.

“I really don’t like how quiet you’re being,” Lou confronts, the once silent car ride no longer.

“What’s wrong?”

Silence.

I just can’t get any words out. Even if I were to try, the only thing that’ll come out is a string of whimpers and sounds. Words just aren’t an option at this moment.

Then, the whirring of the car’s engine stops, Her key taken out of the fob. Lou turns to me, hands still on my body.

“Baby. Did I do something? Daddy would feel terrible if she hurt her baby.” Her hands wander up my legs, stopping at the end of my dress.

Soft hands caress my calf, smiling as she knows what she’s doing.

“Lou.. not in the car…” I say in an extremely small voice, the headspace Lou has created for me completely taking over my mind.

“Fine,” she opens the car door, walking to my side, opening the door for me. “Inside. I want you on the bed, stripped.” The older woman said in her husky voice.

Once we made it up to her apartment, she unlocked the door, and I made a b-line to the bedroom.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I slip off my dress and take off my shoes, revealing a matching white lingerie set:

Climbing on top of Lou’s bed, I wait patiently for her return.

“I guess you are a good girl then,” Lou says, the door slowly creeping open. “, and I see you’re wearing my present.”

Lou bought me this set a while back to celebrate her and Debbie’s successful heist. I’ve never been a huge fan of her job, but she enjoys it, so I can’t see a problem with that.

Slow steps, excruciatingly slow, inch their way toward me. “Nothing to say, huh?” Now crawling on top of me, I can’t help but let out a small whine.

Lou chuckles at my pathetic sound, enjoying the power she has against me and my body.

“You know,” The older woman starts, huskily. “I wish I could get you to tell me what’s up.”I want to speak; say something, anything, but I know the only thing that would come out is my silent pleas, and a string of cries.

She scoffs at my silence. My eyes are burning from the tears that threaten to fall, my mind and body so sexually frustrated. “I suppose we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”