#cluckin bell
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Instagram: Nickiisstyles ❤️
#dreamcon#black cosplay#cosplayer#cosplay#grand theft auto#grand theft auto 5#grand theft auto cosplay#cluckin bell#me#black cosplayer#video games#video game cosplay#rockstar games#gta iv#gta san andreas#gta v#gta vice city
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"Flight to Cluckin' Bell" Heist Unveiled along with Bravado Gauntlet Interceptor and More in GTA Online!
A burst of excitement hits GTA Online as the curtain rises on a brand-new narrative series and a lineup of vehicles that have been on the community's radar since the winter expansion's debut in December.
Dive into the adrenaline-pumping action of "The Raid on Cluckin' Bell," a daring heist featuring five preparatory tasks, including the audacious train theft, and a dynamic finale that can be approached with either stealth or aggression. Your strategy during preparation determines the outcome, and the journey begins with a call to Vincent, whose (V) icon appears near the Vespucci police station. Whether you choose to go solo or assemble a team of up to four, attempting a rush into Paleto Bay is restricted to once per hour. Brace yourself for bountiful cash rewards and the introduction of eight new platinum awards. PS5 and Xbox Series X/S users enjoy an exclusive set of tasks under "Career Progress," featuring a unique fast food meter and an elusive CJ costume for those conquering all 30 categories!
Southern San Andreas Super Autos now proudly offers the Canis Terminus all-terrain vehicle, boasting a GTA $1,877,500 price tag and an array of useful devices curated by Imani.
Leaders gearing up for "The Raid on Cluckin' Bell" can acquire the Bravado Gauntlet Interceptor police masher on the Warstock Cache & Carry website for GTA $5,420,000 during the "Money Push-ups" mission in the preparation stage. Successfully completing the entire heist as a leader unlocks the wholesale price of GTA $4,065,000.
The Vapid Benson Cluckin' Bell van is now up for grabs on the same platform, priced at GTA $685,000 or a discounted GTA $513,750 for leaders completing the heist. Get ready for these exhilarating challenges and a fleet of thrilling vehicles as GTA Online continues to evolve!
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Lololol
#art#my art#digital art#fanart#gta#grand theft auto#gta ctw#gta cw#gta chinatown wars#huang lee#wu kenny lee#maya winky#meme#memes#tiktok#youtube#stan twitter#yes they're eating burger shot#i think cluckin bell would have fit better cause theyre not eating burgers but fuck it 💀💀💀
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uniforms
#gta v#gta#grand theft auto v#grand theft auto#trevor philips#michael de santa#michael townley#daekiyu art#welcome to cluckin fuckin bell..........
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i found some more of my backlogged art today
#au stuff#gta v#grand theft auto#grand theft auto v#gta#michael de santa#brad snider#michael townley#gta 5#fanart#meme#shitpost#my favorite part abt making this was that i put them inside of a cluckin bell
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Hello,
I uploaded a new video!!!
I’ve been playing GTA: Online for over a month now, and recently I decided to solo the Cluckin Bell Farm Raid in my new YouTube video!!!
Warning: I curse like a sailor in this video (or in every video lol)
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CLUCKIN BELL AND MOTHER GOOSEBERRY COLLAB SINCE WHEN ?! WELL NOW YOU HAVE ITT !!!!
When people ask what the outlast fandom is like
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[Ultra Hard Difficulty?]
Seeing equipment rating for his pajamas is certainly not what our hero Baker was expecting from a four player adventure game. He is a bit irked at being informed that he has “equipped” his phone “incorrectly.” He decides to plug it into his iMac while he gets his shoes and a jacket, as the British Guy recommended. He sees his gear reflected accordingly when he ejects his phone. Usually an iTunes pop-up would show over whatever else he was doing, weird it didn’t this time, so he minimizes the SBurbisk window and ejects his phone from the drop down menu at the top. He checks his equipment screen one more time, seeing his phone is now equipped as a phone.
“You may want to check out that Mobile Interface,” the British voice sounds from Baker’s phone. “Oh, I ain’t havin that shit. Hell no,” “You really are intense about your gaming, sir.” “There’s gotta be a way to turn that english fucker off,” “Indeed there is, if you prefer to navigate SBurbisk without tooltips, you can use the options menu within the Mobile Interface.”
“Excellent. Gimme the Hard Mode,” Baker remarks as he toggles Narrator Voiceover to OFF, continuing through the menu to find there are in fact difficulty settings. The tooltips now appear as pop-ups on the SBurbisk app.
“Well, aren’t you ambitious,” he reads, “your friends at least talked to me long enough to give me a nickname. The girl who smokes even said I sound handsome.”
Baker rolls his eyes, struggling to grasp what his adventure is supposed to be, considering the game merely told him to get dressed even though it’s Saturday. He navigates back to the main screen of the “MOBILE INTERFACE,” seeing it simply says “Go Outside.”
Upon venturing out of his apartment with no particular goal in mind, he stops a few feet outside the door.
“What the Fuck, where is everything?!” The sidewalk tapers off into manicured grass, the downtown cityscape of his neighborhood replaced with grassy hills. The horizon is sharp, almost minecraft levels of blocky against the too-perfect sky. Off in the distance, unblocked by buildings, Baker sees one of his favorite lunch spots.
“Well. Guess I’ll go get a burrito. Doesn’t seem like there’s shit else to do out here.” After a much longer walk than usual, through a bunch of grass that’s way too tall to look like it’s freshly cut, he arrives at the Korean Burrito restaurant. He walks in, seeing an empty venue, an NPC from cluckin bell behind the counter, bored, and a bag with his name on it. “Uh. Guess I’ll just. Take this…” He inspects the receipt, finding instructions to scan the QR code for further quest instructions.
He scans the QR code with his camera, which opens the MOBILE INTERF- THE SBURBISK APP, showing some long-winded quest lore.
[Congratulations! Because you selected Ultra Hard difficulty, the Narrator didn’t even have the chance to tell you that you were adventure ready. You should find the lunch in this paper bag to be per your usual specifications. The location of this fusion restaurant will function as “MAGNETIC NORTH” upon your quest planet, Land of Unwinnable Trophies. The Ultra Hard Difficulty makes little difference to the rigor of your quests on this planet, though it will abstract your map data, and simplify quest instructions to their barest form. If you need a hint from “That English Fucker,” simply ask your phone, “Hey, demiGod.” Your Home Button should work now, if you’d like to easily return to your room. Good luck on the rest of your quests, Mr Baker.]
“Unwinnable trophies? Cmon, why else would I choose fucking ultra hard difficulty from the jump? DemiGod,” he scoffs, “what an asshole. I suppose that’s what I get for turning off the narration before I finished the tutorial.” “Correct. Your interaction with SBurbisk’s constructs has a direct impact on their attitude toward you, and how helpful they’ll be as you continue.” demiGod chimes in quickly. Baker sits down inside the lobby, enjoying his lunch and pondering what LoUT might have in store for him.
[next chapter pending.]
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The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, Ch. 17
Pairing: Michael de Santa/ OFC; Trevor Philips/OFC; Michael de Santa/OFC/Trevor Philips; Michael de Santa/Trevor Philips
Summary: Los Santos is a hellscape, but if you’ve got brains and a little determination, it can be a real hell of a playground. Michael needs money, Trevor needs whatever Trevor wants, and Franklin’s moving up in Los Santos. Jen’s just along for the ride.
This is gonna be fun.
Author’s Note: I’ve been writing this beast of a thing since 2013. It’s been through a thousand different incarnations, but it’s been in my drafts for the last six years. I realize this fandom isn’t as popular as it used to be, but I might as well have a little fun and finally start posting it.
Also, not to be that bitch, but this is on Ao3. I would very much appreciate kudos/comments, if you’re so inclined!
Tagging: @verbo-volant for being an inspiration always
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13 || Part 14 || Part 15 || Part 16
--- --- ---
Senora Freeway, Three Years Ago
Michael’s flying down the Senora Freeway, Jen’s in the passenger's seat, Night Moves is playing gently in the background, and life is fucking good.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Jen asks, leaning over to card her fingers through the back of his hair. “What's your curfew?”
“Haven't got one tonight,” Michael says, leaning into her hand. “Amanda's out of town for the weekend. We can do whatever you want, baby.”
“Really? Whatever I want, huh?” Jen teases, rubbing his neck. She can see one of his tattoos peeking just over the edge of his collar, and she runs her finger across it. “We could… go see a movie? There's a drive-in on the edge of the canyon right before the county line. We could grab some greasy takeout and not pay attention to whatever they're showing.”
“And what would we be doing instead of paying attention?” Michael shivers from the brush of her fingertips, a full-body shiver that runs from his shoulder to his toes.
Jen laughs. “Fucking in the backseat, duh. That's what drive-ins are for.”
Michael chuckles to himself - that sounds like a good plan to him. “What if we get caught? Don't want you to lose your job or anything.”
“Please, we're so short-staffed, that old codger wouldn't fire me if I set the mayor's house on fire,” Jen says with a grin. She kicks off her shoes and crosses her legs up in the passenger's seat, relaxing against the door. “He’s gone senile anyway. We’re all just trying to stay afloat.”
“You should run against him, bring in some new blood.”
“Me? DA?” Jen snorted. “I'm not really much for leadership. Or politics.”
“I think you'd be good at it,” Michael replied. His hand settled on her thigh, squeezing her knee briefly. “You’re smart, you’re hard-working - you’ve got the Los Santos look. Good face for politics.”
“Maybe I'll think about it,” Jen shrugs. She’s never one to get sheepish, but she can't deny she's flattered. “Hey, turn here - let’s grab Cluckin’ Bell and head to the drive-in.”
--- --- ---
Present Day
Thanks to Michael, Jen had been in a bad mood all weekend.
Saturday had been little more than a nuisance - a formality of time enforced by the sheer ticking of a clock. Jen had given up calling or texting Michael not long after he'd bolted Friday night, leaving Saturday an open wound. She passed the irritable hours by sticking her nose in her laptop and coming up for air for coffee, and coffee alone.
Sunday was just another twenty-four hours of blind irritation stemming from hurt and confusion. Sunday was spent on the couch watching reruns of old mafia movies and nursing a bottle of wine.
Monday, well… Monday was not a good day to be this angry. It was a status hearing for Jen’s serial killer trial - the trial that would last at least a month. The hearing was a formality - little more than standing up to tell the judge that, yes, the State is ready for trial, and, yes, half the LSPD and FIB are witnesses on said trial, and, yes, it will take at least a month to try.
And, while Jen prided herself on etiquette and professionalism within the courtroom, that Monday was not her finest day. Jen was seething, and everyone could tell. Therefore, no one would talk to her, nothing was getting worked out, and nothing was getting done - at least, not for her cases.
When Jen’s case was called, she stood in her tall, tall heels, the spiky ones she wore specifically on days like today, and stood at the podium in front of the judge. "The State is ready to proceed with trial."
The judge, a curmudgeonly woman in her late sixties, similarly, and perhaps impossibly, was in a worse mood because a month-long trial wasn’t going to be enjoyable for anyone. The judges - especially this one in particular - did not like it when Jen announced that a trial would take place, as Jen's trials generally took a week or more.
The judge sighed. "How long do you expect this to take, Ms. Dixon?"
"Three weeks, maybe four. There's eight counts of murder in the first degree and nearly forty witnesses."
The judge, deadpan, asked, "Seriously?"
Jen nodded, tapping her pen against the podium. "Serious as a heart attack, Judge. This is the serial killer the FIB arrested last year."
The judge looked as if she'd like to retire immediately. "Alright, we'll set it down for trial. I'll send out the scheduling order this afternoon."
Jen stepped away from the podium, click-clacking back to the State's table. The other attorneys hastily made room for her, careful not to scoot too close. With the exception of MaryAnn, they all seemed to be mightily preoccupied with the files in their hands. MaryAnn, on the other hand, stared her down with every step.
Leave it to MaryAnn to be the only person unafraid to ask. She leaned over to whisper in Jen’s ear. "What crawled up your ass?"
Despite Jen’s irritation, she almost smiled. "Nothing."
MaryAnn rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, I haven't seen you this angry at work since the morning after you went on that date with Haines."
That had been an exceptionally bad day, after an exceptionally bad date. They did not speak of that date. Nor the day that followed.
"We agreed never to talk about that." Jen crossed her arms and watched another lawyer stand up for his case. "Mike's being a dick."
"Did you have a fight?" MaryAnn asked. She watched the judge out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her next case to be called while she chatted with Jen.
"More like he fucked me seven ways to Sunday and ran out of my apartment before he'd even zipped up his pants. And didn’t bother to answer the phone."
"Ouch," MaryAnn winced. "Want me to cover for you so you can go home?"
Jen shook her head. "No, I've got too much to do, and we need to keep prepping for trial. I'll take care of it tonight."
"I feel sorry for him…"
"I wouldn't if I were you."
As Jen sat at the table monitoring the goings-on of the courtroom, her phone vibrated. She frowned down at it when Michael’s name flashed across the screen.
Michael: dinner @ natalias @ 6
How eloquent. Michael wasn't known for his hip-and-happening texting skills.
Jen: okay
She received no further reply, which wasn't unexpected even on a good day. Nevertheless, she spent a few too many seconds glaring down at the screen. Two of her employees (who had been watching carefully to make sure a blow-up wasn’t imminent) vacated their seats and scurried away, pretending to discuss a case they were working together. She rolled her eyes at their retreating backs, but she could admit it wasn’t their worst idea to go run and hide.
Jen chewed on her lip, deep in thought, until she tasted the rust of blood. Dinner could go one of several ways. Michael could ignore the problem - that was the most likely possibility. He could bring presents and buy her dinner and expect that to fix things. Or, equally possible, he could finally run the other way. That… also wouldn’t be entirely unexpected. Whatever method Michael decided to try, Jen had already determined a conversation needed to be had.
Once court had adjourned, Jen grabbed MaryAnn and led her back to her office.
“We have to call Haines and Norton,” Jen said. “They worked the last of the murders before his arrest, so we need to start working on their testimony.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want to take your anger out on your favorite punching bags?” MaryAnn asked, curling up on her favorite chair in Jen’s office. She stared up at the whiteboard where Jen had drawn out their trial plan. “You’re not going to have one of them sit with us, are you?”
“I was planning on Haines sitting at the table with us. He has public appeal with that dumbass TV show,” Jen replied, tapping out a message on her phone. She usually tried to warn Haines before she called him. She dialed after she sent the message. “As much as I don’t want him there, he has good ratings - might help with the jury's perception of us.”
Both Jen and MaryAnn were well-known for being rather… contentious during trial.
“I hate it when you’re right… sometimes,” MaryAnn said. She quieted when Haines answered the phone on the third ring.
Haines’s voice rang loud and clear over the speaker. “How can I help you, Jenny?”
Jen’s eye twitched. “That serial killer you and Norton arrested last year is electing to exercise his constitutional right to a trial. Clear your schedule - you’re sitting at the table with us.”
“I guess you need a pretty face for when the camera’s come rolling in,” Haines commented loftily. “I don’t know… I’ll have to check my filming schedule.”
“Well, when I serve you your subpoena and you don’t show up,” Jen started as MaryAnn snickered quietly in her seat, “I can have you arrested on your own TV show. How's that for ratings?”
“Eh, I guess I could use some more screen time,” he corrected quickly. He wouldn’t put it past her to actually do it. “I’ll make sure to let my makeup artist know.”
“If you fuck up this testimony and this guy walks, don’t forget your home address is public…”
Haines scoffed quietly. “Calm down, Jenny. When have I ever fucked up testimony?”
Irritatingly, the answer was never. Haines, for all his flaws and despite his patriarchal athleisure wear, was actually fairly good on the stand. He was somehow able to charm a jury, despite the glaring surface flaws and deep-seated jackassery.
“Just be prepared. You’ll be on the stand for a couple of days,” Jen said, "And wear a fucking suit. I don't want you up there looking like you're going out for a round of golf."
“Yeah, fine.”
Jen hung up. MaryAnn was still snickering quietly in her chair.
“Well, if all goes poorly with your old man boyfriend, there’s always Steve Haines.”
“I would genuinely rather die, MaryAnn.”
--- --- ---
Michael was late. Of course, he was late. Even neutral ground for a conversation wouldn’t make that man deal with the consequences of his actions in a timely fashion.
Jen took a sip of her wine. It was good wine, she determined. She’d already asked the hostess (a woman she’d become incredibly friendly with over the years of being a steady and dedicated patron) to bag up an extra bottle to take home. She had a feeling she was going to need a tall, stiff drink when she got home.
Jen already knew where this date was going just by virtue of Michael being late, and Michael was clearly having trouble getting himself together to do it.
She could tell him that it was okay, that she was expecting it. She could tell him she'd always known it would end like this - that they'd had a good ride together. She could be kind and make this easier for him, just get up and grab her bags and forget that he existed. And make him pay for the meal, obviously.
But Jen certainly wasn’t known for being kind. If Michael was going to do this, she wasn't going to make it easy for him.
Michael finally arrived, dressed in his usual suit and tie. Judging by the pink flush on his cheeks, he’d had a couple of drinks before he’d walked in - a little liquid courage. Jen watched him idly as he sat down and adjusted his tie, though it didn’t need to be adjusted. He was looking anywhere but at Jen, though she’d fixed him with a cool, even stare.
Finally, Jen spoke, tone flat. "Explain."
"I don't really know what to say…"
She cocked her head to the side. "Take your time."
"I- uh," Michael trailed off as though words had entirely escaped him. He paused, trying to hold himself firm against Jen's colder-than-death stare. "I'm- well, I'm- fuck - I'm sorry for runnin' out the other night-"
"I didn't ask for an apology, Mike. I said explain."
Michael knew his choices were limited. He could take what he determined was the chicken-shit way out: apologize and keep on doing this with Jen. Or, he could do what he figured was the right thing to do if he wanted Amanda back - break it off right here and now.
Begrudgingly, Michael admitted Trevor was right - he had to let one of them go. And he'd chosen Jen.
Time to pony up.
"Jen, I can't keep doing this," Michael said, his voice hollow. It's like he couldn't hear the words coming out of his mouth - like he was trapped in an icy bubble. "I mean, we had a good ride. It's been a good six years-"
"Seven years."
Michael coughed. Right. "Seven years. But we knew we'd have to move on from this eventually."
Jen crossed her arms. "Uh-huh."
"Look, you deserve someone who can give you a good life."
"I have a good life as it is, but keep talking if you’d like,” Jen said, raising an eyebrow.
“I'm still married, Jen.”
That, despite Michael's attempt at a hushed whimper, caught the attention of the table next to them. Two blondes, one tall and statuesque even sitting, the other squat and muscular, ducked their heads together and traded sideways looks.
“Oh, I'm aware, but did it ever cross your mind that you’re married when you were getting your dick wet?” Jen asked, tone getting icier by the minute. “Or when you dragged me into your new bank-robbing 80's movie reboot?"
Michael struggled to keep his temper in check. If he raised his voice, which he knew he shouldn’t do, she’d lose her shit on him (which was not something he ever wanted to experience and would ultimately make things worse). And then he’d lose his shit on her (again, not something he'd ever done nor wanted to experience). He didn’t want to have a screaming match or some knock-down, drag-out fight in the middle of this restaurant. He’d wanted this to be as quick and painless as possible, but he had a short temper and a bad mouth.
"Yeah, I’m sure you really hated the money you got from those jobs. You're really gonna pull the morality card on me right now?" Michael snapped. “You knew I was married from the get-go. I never hid that from you.”
And with that, quick and painless fell out resolutely out of reach.
Jen sneered. “Morality got thrown out the window seven years ago when I fucked you on my couch. You don't give a shit about me or Amanda. You just want your idyllic little life back, with your white picket fence and wife and two-point-five kids and all that shit."
Jen had never spoken to him like this before - not this icy, toneless clip. Screaming was one thing, yelling and cussing another, but this emotionless, icicle tone was downright terrifying. Michael thought he might prefer yelling.
"We never agreed on anything more than strictly casual and you know it!” Michael snapped. He wanted to disengage, he really did, but he was notoriously terrible at backing down.
The neighboring table was outright staring now, more out of the Los Santos love for drama than any real concern.
"Doesn't matter what we agreed to at this point, especially considering the past few months. This arrangement is no longer strictly casual, Michael,” Jen said. “Whose bed did you sleep in when Amanda left you, huh? Who’d you come running to?"
Michael leaned in, trying to keep his voice down, and failing. "Why are you making this harder than it has to be?"
Jen pointed at him, her long, tapered nail ending in a point. "Because you know how I feel, and you know how you feel, and you’re just blindly fucking ignoring it."
"I've got to take care of my family."
"I’m not telling you not to take care of your family,” Jen hissed, “I’m telling you not to go back to someone who made you miserable for twenty years, and who, I’m sure, you made equally as miserable.”
Michael didn’t have an answer, because Jen wasn’t wrong.
"The fact of the matter is, you want this to be easy for you. This is not easy for me, and I am not going to make this easy for you, Michael," Jen snapped. This was an absolute promise. “You’ve always walked away from everything you’ve done scott-free - not this time."
"Well, don't worry, you'll get your wish. I gotta carry this with me every fucking day."
"And I hope you carry it with pride."
With that, Michael stopped and took a deep breath. He cared, he really did. And Michael, in his infinite capacity to make everything worse, went for the final blow. "Look, I care about you, Jen. I lov-"
"Don't." She uncrossed her arms and stood up. "Don’t say another fucking word - I don’t want to hear it. You are such an asshole."
"Jen, come on-"
Jen grabbed her bag and coat, retrieved her bottle of wine from the hostess station, and left, the restaurant door swinging shut behind her. Michael could pay for the fucking waters and the bottle of whiskey he was probably about to order - Jen was out of there. The valet, taking a quick look at the expression on her face, wasted no time retrieving her car.
Of course, Michael would pull that card. Jen wasn't stupid - and neither was Michael. Both emotionally stunted, stubborn fools - but not stupid. That had manifested years ago, but, of course, the end would be the moment Michael decided to pull it out.
Asshole.
Jen revved her car and turned out into Los Santos traffic. God, it would be weeks before she’d be able to go back to Natalia’s after that blowout. She couldn’t stop herself from letting it get out of hand, and there was no way Michael wasn’t going to make a scene. How embarrassing. She’d have to leave an extra tip next time.
She didn't want to go home yet, not after that. She needed someplace to cool down, get a clear head. Some catharsis.
Tequi-la-la’s would be a good place to cool down. Have a couple of drinks, grab some bar food since she’d never actually ordered at the restaurant. Find someone to take home with her. Yep, that was the best plan. Alcohol, food, and a quick fuck. Mends broken hearts, does the trick every time. Well, probably not this time, but self-destruction was the only option Jen would consider right now.
Yet, rather than taking the exit for Tequi-la-la’s, Jen found herself turning right onto the Strawberry exit. A short drive later, and the glow of the Vanilla Unicorn sign flooded the dark streets. She’d driven around aimlessly until she’d seen the giant neon sign and cut into the parking lot.
Catharsis. She could get catharsis here, too. She cut the engine on her Jester and sat staring up at the flashing lights.
“Fuck.”
Jen slammed the Jester door behind her and locked the car. She was greeted at the door by the bouncers by name, asked if she wanted her usual table by the hostess. She declined and headed straight up to the bar.
Tiffany, blonde Tiffany - one of Jen's favorite girls at the Unicorn - was bartending tonight. Jen didn't prefer blondes, but Tiffany was undeniably gorgeous and surprisingly quite sweet. And she made a great cocktail. And gave great head.
Jen leaned against the bar and waved Tiffany over. “You busy?”
“Kind of,” Tiffany snorted. She looked around and saw that she was not, in fact, all that busy, so she shook her head. ��Actually, not really. Mondays are slow. Speaking of which, why are you here?”
“Bad day,” Jen responded. “Came in for a drink and… to say hi. Take a break?”
Tiffany raised an eyebrow and called over her shoulder. “Jill, I’m going on break. Be back… eventually.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Jen grinned. “Hey, have you seen Trevor tonight?”
“Uh, yeah, I think he’s in the office. Why?”
“Got a problem with using the office?”
“With him in it?”
“Maybe, if he’s lucky.”
Tiffany shook her head. “No problem at all.”
“Good girl,” Jen said with a wink. “Let’s go.”
Tiffany ducked out from behind the bar and led Jen back towards the office, pulling her by the hand past the private rooms where thudding music filled the dark hallway. Bouncers lined the wall, standing guard past the curtains in case customers got too rough with the girls. Judging by the soft sound of panting, some of the bouncers had been paid extra to look the other way.
Trevor's office was down at the end of the hall, but the girls didn't quite make it there before Jen pulled Tiffany into a heated kiss. One of the bouncers gave them a look, more out of curiosity than concern, then went back to monitoring the couple past the curtains. It wasn't like the bouncers didn't know what was going on - they'd all seen Jen with a girl or two before - but what happened at the Unicorn, stayed at the Unicorn.
Jen shoved a hand up Tiffany's cropped shirt, finding no bra to impede her in her goal, and busied herself playing with Tiffany's nipple. Tiffany wound her hand into Jen's hair and shoved her back against the wall.
“How do you want to do this?” Tiffany asked, panting in Jen's ear.
Jen tweaked her nipple until she moaned, thumb circling the nub relentlessly. “Whatever happens, happens. You okay with Trevor joining in?”
Tiffany nodded. “Fine with me. You give the word.”
“Safe word is pineapple if you get uncomfortable,” Jen said. “Now, come on, I want to stick my tongue in your pussy.”
They didn’t bother knocking on the door - it was unlocked anyway. Cue Trevor doing whatever it is that Trevor does in this vacant office (currently, snorting coke off the desk). ‘
He looked up and broke out into a grin. “Well, this is unexpected.”
“Shut up,” Jen said as she backed Tiffany up against the desk. “You can stay as long as you’re quiet.”
Trevor mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.
Jen nudged Tiffany onto her elbows on the desk and sank down to her knees in front of her. She hiked Tiffany's skirt up her thighs and peeled her underwear down before sealing her lips over her slit.
Tiffany's hand gripped the roots of her hair. “Ah - getting right to it, babe?”
“Mhm,” was as much of a response as Jen could give with her mouth full. She flicked her tongue along her slit, pausing to suck at her clit, before spreading her open with her fingers and sinking two digits in. She pumped her fingers in and out, tonguing the space in between with reverence, until her mouth was soaked and fingers were dripping.
Tiffany grabbed Jen’s shoulders and arched up into her mouth, thighs shaking. “Fuck, Jen - right there -”
Jen could just barely hear Trevor unzip his pants over the sound of Tiffany panting, but hear it she did. She stopped sucking Tiffany's clit and stood up, leaning over the girl on the desk so she could kiss her.
“Okay so far?” Jen asked softly, mumbling against Tiffany's mouth. Her black lipstick was smeared down her chin, and Jen could only imagine what her own face looked like.
The breathless yes made Jen smile.
“Do something for me?” Jen asked. “Go fuck Trevor. If he doesn’t finish you, I will.”
Tiffany nodded and stood shakily up from the desk. She crossed over to where Trevor sat and climbed into his lap. He moved to grab her ass, but stopped when Jen told him no.
“You don't touch. I touch, you be quiet and take what we give you. Understood?”
He stared over Tiffany’s shoulder at Jen and nodded. To his credit, he followed orders and didn’t speak, likely because he thought Jen would tell Tiffany to stop if he did. (She wouldn’t have, not this time. This was a night for catharsis, not discipline.)
Jen stood behind Tiffany and held her hips steady as she slid down onto Trevor's fat cock. She reached up and tucked Tiffany’s hair away so she could trail kisses down her neck as Tiffany grinded down on Trevor’s lap.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, Trevor?” Jen said, reaching around to play with Tiffany’s nipples while Trevor watched. “Tiffany’s so fun to play with. Too bad you can’t touch.”
He leaned his head back against the top of the chair and groaned, eyes squeezed shut. His knuckles had turned white from the force of clutching the arms of his chair, the pulse point in his neck fluttering, tendons tight.
“Open your eyes and watch, Trevor,” Jen said, teasing one of Tiffany’s nipples before reaching down to play with her clit. “If you’re a good boy and make Tiffany come first, I’ll fuck you, too.”
Another groan, but it makes him buck up into Tiffany, matching her pace. Tiffany moaned in turn, one hand gripping Trevor's forearm, the other hand wrapped around Jen's hand while she played with her clit.
Jen grinned, spreading the slick over Tiffany's clit. She reached further, massaging the place where Trevor's cock plunged into her. “How’s that feel, Tiff?”
“Good - so good-”
“Gonna come for us?”
A high-pitched, breathy yeah.
Jen grabbed Tiffany's chin and turned her head so she could kiss her. She felt the tremor wrack Tiffany's body as she came, the sharp moan spilling from her lips muffled by Jen's mouth.
Beneath them, Trevor was absolutely wrecked, hips stuttering as he rode out Tiffany's orgasm without succumbing to the one threatening to slam through him. His bottom lip was caught between his wolfish teeth, eyes wild, knuckles so white from the strain that Jen could almost see the veins running through his hands. He still didn't speak, but he stared a hole through Jen's forehead, silently begging to come.
Jen held onto Tiffany's hips as she climbed off of Trevor's cock, keeping her steady. Trevor's hand immediately fisted around his shaft, pumping viciously to keep his high going.
Jen kissed Tiffany again, this time gently. “You okay, Tiff?”
“I'm great, sugar,” Tiffany replied. “Do you want me to stick around?”
“Yeah, I like when you watch,” Jen replied. “Besides, someone should watch Trevor get fucked like a good boy.”
Jen turned back towards Trevor, watching him beg silently as he fisted himself. “You can talk if you're good.”
Trevor nodded furiously, groaning. “I'll be good - I'll be so good, Jen, please -”
“I know you will, baby boy,” Jen said, lifting the hem of her dress out of the way as she straddled Trevor's lap. “You always do such a good job for your Princess Jen.”
His hands latched onto her thighs immediately, fingertips digging into her skin as she moved her underwear to the side and sank down on his cock. It was an easy slide, made easier by the mix of Tiffany's come coating his shaft and the precum dripping from his flushed tip. Her hand found his throat, thumbs teasing the prominent veins bulging under his skin, and forced his head against the back of the chair.
Jen's name, at that moment, was the closest thing to a prayer to have ever come out of Trevor's mouth, followed closely by fuck and please. She gripped his shoulder with the hand not currently wrapped around his throat. When she moved in his lap, it was slow and torturous, not quite enough to push Trevor over the edge with the explosive force he'd started to feel with Tiffany. No, this was worse - this was a wave lapping at his skin, teasing him, pushing him closer and closer -
“You can come now, Trevor,” Jen said, permission like music to his ears. “Be a good boy and come on yourself.”
And he does. He bounced Jen up to the tip of his cock and slammed up into her before pulling her soundly off his cock and coming all over the bottom of his shirt. She kept his head pinned to the back of the chair, the edges of his vision starry and fuzzy, forcing him to keep eye contact until his cock softened against his stomach.
From the desk behind them, Tiffany made herself come again, the sound of her moans bubbling up underneath Trevor's. Jen climbed off of Trevor's lap to help Tiffany clean herself up before waving Tiffany out with another kiss.
Jen sat on the edge of the desk and offered Trevor Tiffany's forgotten underwear to clean himself up. She watched idly as he stuffed the used underwear into his back pocket.
“Not that I'm complaining,” Trevor said, “but what was that?”
“What do you mean, what was that? You got fucked by two women. Don't think that needs an explanation.”
“But why?”
“Why not?”
Trevor, unfortunately, was a lot more perceptive than Jen gave him credit for sometimes. “What happened?”
Jen, wholly unwilling to relive the events of the night prior to her arrival at the Unicorn, climbed down off the desk and smoothed out her dress. “Why don't you call Michael? He'll explain.”
“Maybe I’ll just go pay him a visit,” Trevor replied, zipping up his pants with some finality. “It’s been a while since I said hello anyway.”
#grand theft auto#Grand Theft Auto 5#Grand Theft Auto V#gta#GTAV#GTA5#michael de santa#michael de santa x oc#trevor philips x oc#trevor philips
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the cluckin' bell farm raid was actually such a fun little heist and vincent was SO fun 🥺
#gta#gtao#gta online#if there's dripfeed content i really hope we get some more clothes or something#maybe some freemode activities?#anyway I liked this update!
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LIKE I KINDA KNEW IT ACTUALLY BUT WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS RIGHT THAT JOE LO TRUGLIO VOICES THE CLUCKIN' BELL EMPLOYEE IN GTA: SAN ANDREAS????????
#it just sounds like him but girl i didn't think that was for real#i feel like someone in gta v also sounded like him...#joe lo truglio#gta san andreas
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Rockstar Games has just dropped a bombshell for GTA Online enthusiasts with the revelation of a new heist titled "The Cluckin’ Bell Farm Raid."
The announcement is accompanied by a tantalizing trailer, screenshots, release date details, and a sneak peek at some fresh vehicles.
Mark your calendars for Thursday, March 7th, as this is when the action-packed "The Cluckin’ Bell Farm Raid" is set to hit the virtual streets of GTA Online. The anticipation began building last month when players received an in-game call from Vincent, an LSPD officer, offering a taste of what's to come.
According to a recent Rockstar Games Newswire post, players will be teaming up with Vincent Effenburger to take on a new cartel operating out of the Cluckin’ Bell factory in Paleto Bay. What makes this heist particularly intriguing is the cartel's use of the factory farm as a front for their large-scale, nefarious operations.
GTA modded accounts
As players dive into the missions, they'll not only be facing off against corrupt LSPD members but also tackling a formidable new cartel. The blog post hints at a complex scheme to expose unparalleled corruption within the cartel during "The Cluckin’ Bell Farm Raid."
The release date is just around the corner, and on March 7th, players on PlayStation 5, PlayStation 4, Xbox Series X|S, Xbox One, and PC can all join in on the action. With much of the content already nestled in the game files as a drip-feed, a potential title update on release day might ensure a seamless experience.
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Alongside the heist, players can also look forward to getting their hands on new vehicles, including the much-anticipated police Bravado Gauntlet Interceptor. Rockstar Games has teased fans with a trailer for "The Cluckin’ Bell Farm Raid" on YouTube, providing a glimpse into the heart-pounding gameplay. For a closer inspection, a collection of screenshots from the trailer is also available.
As the GTA Online community braces for "The Cluckin’ Bell Farm Raid," excitement continues to mount. Stay tuned for more updates, and in the meantime, explore the ongoing events in GTA Online. For those intrigued by the real-life Cluckin’ Bell experience, last year featured a visit to a GTA fan-run business in San Diego, offering a unique perspective on this iconic in-game locale.
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Signs Big Smoke was gonna betray Grove Street
Hanging around in CJ’s mom’s house - “You picked the wrong house, fool!” Whoa, come one, don’t you recognize your homie? It’s only been 5 years! More importantly, what are you doing in my moms house, while everyone else is at the funeral…?
Not being shot at by the Ballas - At first, it may seem like bad AI programming, you know, enemy AI only programmed to shoot at you. But, the Ballas also shoot at Sweet on the way back to Grove. So they try to kill you and your brother. But not Smoke and Ryder though… hmmm, suspicious…
Constantly questioning Sweet - Sweet’s got a pretty divisive leadership stance against dealing crack. Even in the “Introduction” video exclusive to the PC version, Smoke is shown questioning Sweet’s leadership, while also trying to convince him to get Grove Street into the crack business. While Sweet argues that Grove has principles, Smoke argues that their principles are the reason Grove is losing their footing.
“Drive-Thru” - Literally the entire mission. The opening cutscene shows Smoke getting into yet another argument with Sweet, but before the argument gets heated, Smoke quickly changes the subject to food, suggesting they all get some Cluckin’ Bell, the GTA Universe’s version of KFC. On the way there, Smoke keeps changing the subject when Ryder says exactly how Sweet and CJ’s mom got killed. Oh and who can forget his infamous order? There’s actually a theory that suggests he ordered all that food to buy the Ballas some time, which might as well be true. While Sweet and Ryder are shooting at the Ballas’ car, Smoke refuses to participate in the drive-by, cause he’s too busy stuffing his big fat fucking face. Oh and the last thing you gotta do after dropping off Sweet and Ryder is to take Smoke to his his house, since he’s moved out of Grove Street and into Idlewood, which is Ballas territory…
His entire mission thread - While Ryder’s the other traitor in the game (although he’s literally never mentioned), at least his missions actually helped Grove Street, further hinting the possibility that he originally wasn’t mean to betray you. Smoke’s missions, however, involve picking up the unlikable OG Loc from prison, harassing a Vagos gang member, intercepting a meeting between the Vagos and the San Fierro Rifa, and a deal with the Russian Mob that goes south. Not to mention the presence of C.R.A.S.H. in half the mission cutscenes. Some cut dialogue involved CJ asking Smoke what Tenpenny was even doing at Smoke’s house, to which Smoke would just feign ignorance, making his inevitable betrayal even more obvious.
Abandoning Sweet and CJ along with Ryder to deal with SWAT units at the Jefferson Motel - This could probably be dismissed as a “fight or flight” reaction, especially when Ryder says it’s “every motherfucker for himself!” And of course, they do come back around after Sweet and CJ escape the shootout. This could probably be because Smoke knew that Sweet would be on to him if he didn’t come back to save him, like how Brian saved Dom in The Fast and the Furious. Why the cops intercepted the Families meeting to reunite might be an anonymous tip-off from Smoke, claiming that there must be some drug dealing going on in that motel, cause if the Families reunited, that would weaken the Ballas, which would ruin his crack empire. Of course one mission later, his betrayal is finally played out!
His initials - BS = bullshit!
His license plate - A2TMFK = a two-timing motherfucker!
Being too nice to CJ - Trust me, I’ve worked in retail long enough to realize that when someone is being too friendly with you, they’re putting on an act, when in reality, they’re probably trying to scam you or steal some shit. The instant CJ returns to Los Santos, who’s the only one that seems pleased that he’s back? Sweet initially resented CJ for abandoning his family after the death of their youngest brother Brian, which Sweet holds CJ responsible for. And Ryder is the same way, but seems to have more contempt for CJ earning back Sweet’s favor after being gone for 5 years. Plus Ryder’s just an asshole! But Smoke has said nothing but nice things to CJ upon returning to Los Santos, and hasn’t given him any shit for abandoning his homies…
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with all the multiversal travel that happens around here i am making a solemn pledge to myself
one day
one day i will try big smoke’s order for real from a real cluckin bell
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Would you rather eat at Cluckin' Bell or Sea Chicken Shack?
(both are fictional and are from two different media)
....sea chicken shack
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