#rugged phone review

[androidaddictsx]

Doogee V31 GT Review - InfiRay Thermal Imaging Rugged 5G Phone

The V31 GT is the latest InfiRay Thermal Imaging rugged smartphone from Doogee. It packs a MediaTek Dimensity 1080 CPU, 12GB RAM, 256GB storage and of course a Thermal Imaging sensor with InfiRay software. Along with Night Vision and a 10800mAh battery

The V31 GT is the latest InfiRay Thermal Imaging rugged smartphone from Doogee. It packs a MediaTek Dimensity 1080 CPU, 12GB RAM, 256GB storage and of course a Thermal Imaging sensor with InfiRay software. Along with Night Vision and a 10800mAh battery this phone has a lot to offer. Amazon affiliate link:https://amzn.to/3PkVN8YIncludes £90 off + use code: V31GTDOOGEE for 5% off! If you want to…

[kirby-the-gorb]

[techhub123]

"Oukitel WP32 Pro Rugged Smartphone | 6-inch HD, 24GB+256GB, Octa-Core Power! #OutdoorPhone #RuggedSmartphone #TechReviews"

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In Which Gojo Satoru Commits Regicide.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 0.7k.

TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Off-Screen Violence. I Am Coping, But I Am Also Pissed. Be Patient, I Beg of You.

Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

You’d been a little confused when Satoru came home uncharacteristically giddy in spite of the bitingly cold February weather, and a little more than confused when he said he had something to show you, took you by the arm, and teleported you out of your apartment entirely (after waiting for you to give your clear and enthusiastic consent, of course). You had no idea where he was taking you, but it only took a single second of whipping your head in either direction, a single glimpse of those awful bright yellow curtains and tacky eagle rug, to know where you were.

“Satoru,” you gasped, and his grin widened. “Is this the oval office?”

“The one and only.” His voice was low and smug, his tone more than enough to prove that he already knew you like your surprise. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he swept the content the presidential desk in the floor with his free hand and lifted you onto its outer edge, placing himself in the space between your open legs as if brought there by a gravitational pull. You draped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a long, deep kiss as sweet as apple pie, or funnel cake, or other true symbols of American culture that were formed through a broad, grassroot endearment rather than a bunch of gross old men deciding they’d look cool on a flag three-hundred years ago.

Reminded of gross old men, you pulled away with another sharp gasp. “But, ‘toru, what if he catches us?”

You had no problem with getting your back blown out by your loving boyfriend in one of the most sacred rooms in the United States, but if that lead-paint poisoned geezer happened to walk in (if he even could walk on his own, anymore), it’d totally ruin the mood. Satoru only laughed. “Don’t worry, baby,” And then, flashing you a quick wink, “I made sure to clear the place out for us.”

“Satoru, you didn’t!”

“Guess some fascists just can’t handle their blunt force damage,” he said, shrugging. Suddenly, your expression dropped, and Satoru noticed right away. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Well, it’s not that the racist, senile felon didn’t deserve to have his skull caved in by a bisexual transgender man – since, y’know, we’re both bisexual and transgender.” Satoru nodded, affirming the fact that you two were similarly transgender and also bisexual, which you were. “It’s just – now that misogynistic white supremacist who jerks off to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale every night before fucking his couch is going to be president, and that that kind of sucks too.”

“James David Vance?”  Satoru asked, refusing to use his initially and therefore highlighting how stupidly pretentious his name was. “You think too little of me, sweetheart.”

Possibly for the third time, you gasped. “Is he…?”

“Mhm. Took care of him right before I came home, got him right as he was coming out of his filler appointment. Beat him to death with a copy of his own book and everything, after leaving it a one-star review on Goodreads, of course.” Again, he shrugged, but smile gave away his self-satisfaction. “It’s all in a day’s work for the world’s strongest and most politically active sorcerer, I guess.”

“But, if that pathetic old man and his castrated lapdog are both dead, then who’s the president?”

“Check the news, baby.”

You fished your phone out of your pocket as Satoru sucked hickeys into your neck, obviously waiting until he had your full attention to go further. Again, you gasped. You were starting to lose count of how many times that’d happened, so far. “Abortions and insulin are provided upon request and also free now?!”

“Oh, wait, are they?” You turned your screen in his direction, and Satoru hummed in approval. Everyone’s quality of life had gotten a lot better since your good friend, Nanami Kento, was placed onto the Supreme Court in the final days of Biden’s term. “Sick. Not what I was talking about, though – scroll down.”

You scrolled down, and gasped once more. Your throat was starting to hurt. “Everyone in the country’s unanimously ellected the first female president?”

“Not just any female president,” he said, smirking and tapping on a trust-worthy article from a reliable and non-partisan source. “Say her name for me, baby.”

The final gasp you gaspt was the loudest and most gasp-like of all.

“Hatsune Miku?!”

[crazydiscostu]

Unihertz TickTock 5G Rugged SmartPhone

Rugged stuff @unihertz #unihertz

The last few years has seen the rise of what is known as – the rugged smartphone – a design of smartphone that is typified to be resistant to damage and able to function in harsh environments. Today we’re looking at this stocky offering from Unihertz, the seventh phone launched by the brand on Kickstarter. Unihertz Unihertz are a team of passionate designers and engineers who believe…

[neonovember]

So I currently have food poisoning and I can’t help but it think how mad Carmy would be if a restaurant gave his gf/wife food poisoning

Also Carmy come take care of me and make me soup plz 🙇‍♀️😫

Plus he would give the best snuggles 😭

firstly, sending lots of love and recovery, i've never actually had fp lmao so a lot of time on webmd will be spent. get ur fluids in! secondly, carmen might have to go underground for setting the restaurant on fire. we love him for it

summary: You were hungry and had just finished work and you didn't think about inspecting the goddamn Michelin star restaurant, maybe you should have.

warnings; cursing, food poisoning, richie (he's a warning), hipsters, talks of future arsony, possessive carmen, cracked fic ngl,

divider by @firefly-graphics

i'm slipping back into the unsafe territory of wanting fictional characters. (and i don't care)

You could roll your eyes in annoyance if you weren't hunched over the ceramic bowl of the toilet heaving out the contents of your stomach while Carmen held you hair back.

The one time, the one goddamn time you decide to try a new place without Carmen's input, without his meticulous standards and in depth research behind every night out.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to vet the new braised beef spot that opened up on west Avenue. In fact, you had heard all but stellar reviews from friends and family, meeting you with suprise hearing that Carmen hadn't taken you. You decided to bring home a small plate, their signature braised meat with plums, red onions and atrichocke hearts.

You had meant to share it with Carmen, and you were going to, but a botched catering order had him staying back another hour than what had been planned. And well..you say you tried to save some for Carmen, but despite its bacteria laced beef and vomit inducing sides it was pretty fuckin' good.

Was this God's wrath coming down upon you? Punishing you for your gluttony? Food poisoning did feel awfully close to perpetual hellfire.

The TV was blaring some indescriptive show, the kind with dramatic introductions and soap opera worthy screams. It helped fill the space of absence when Carmen worked long nights, and you felt quite comfortable wrapped up in a blanket with a full stomach and a warm sofa.

Your phone had pinged with the sound of Carmen's text, letting you know he was on the way when it started. At first you had written it off as mere indigestion, probably from shoveling the cursed meal into your mouth too quickly.

Then, around the time the show's main character had found out her boyfriend got her mother pregnant, the nausea set in. Swirling aches that felt like a whirlpool in your stomach had taken over, sloshing and swirling and never leaving. You couldn't mistake it, as you tried to swallow past a dry throat and the creeping sweats of a headache inducing fever began to ravage your body.

You hated sitting in discomfort, it wasn't as though you were afraid of vomiting no, you just could not bare to feel the way your stomach skipped and jumped with every wave of nausea that took over.

You thought of making yourself sick, but shook your head when the alarming disapproval of Carmen's voice loomed over.

"It's just gonna make it worse, you gotta sit with it till it passes"

Fuck him and his medical knowledge. What did he know?

You had ripped off the blanket that had once felt comforting, peeling of layers of clothing that stuck to your body like a second skin. You just felt hot, so hot, is anyone else feeling this heat? You try to move from the couch to reach your phone, but the sudden movement has nausea bubbling up your throat.

You fall to the ground in a heap, hand clasped around your mouth to stop the possibility of projectile vomiting on the rug you had just bought and shoot your hand up to reach for your phone.

You press Carmen's number, begging him to answer you in genuine crisis rather than when you were drunk with friends and missed him. You feel the urge to heave and crawl quickly to the bathroom, phone clasped in hand and suddenly desperately needed his medical knowledge.

Carmen phone rings from the behind the stack of documents in the office, and he hastily wipes his hands across his apron before trying to reach it before it rings out.

Guilt fills his stomach at the thought of you, he was meant to be home hours ago. The catering order needed a few extra hands to help, and once Carmen began he got lost in it, and now you had spent nearly the entire night alone.

"Fuck- Hey baby, I know I said I was comin' but I had to finish a couple things-" Carmen quickly responds as he swipes the call button.

The groan of pain that responds has Carmen freezing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Baby? What-, are you okay?" Carmen replies quickly, his voice going short as his mind turns every possible scenario that had you whining in pain over the receiver.

"Please come quickly, Carmen I think I might-" You gulp and make a retching sound "I think I got sick from that place I was telling you about" You plead out, breathing heavily into the speaker.

The guilt that had filled Carmen seems to morph into an anger that rushes up his chest as he shakes his head.

"The new place? The one with the fuckin' smoke meat? They did this?"

"Mhm" You mumble "I should've just listened to you" You groan out in sadness.

"Fucking idiots. How the fuck did they even? Okay, okay honey just gimme a second yeah?"

How did he let this happen? Carmen has half the mind to stop at the restaurant that more of a Instagram attraction that a respected place of business. You were so eager and excited t try it, Carmen had his own thoughts but would glue his mouth shut if it meant making you happy.

He'll make sure they get shut down, or at least black listed from Chicago as long as he's concerned. His hands shake with the eager want for the fight, to smash someones jaw for resorting you to a heap of tears and sick. He would, he knows he will, but at this moment he needed to take care of your first.

He mumbles out a rushed reply, phone between his shoulder and ear as he slips out of his work shoes and into his sneakers. He thinks for a moment to grab his things but immediately shut that thought out when he hears you groaning into the phone.

"Just stay on the phone okay? I'm coming now, I need to get you some things alright?"

You let out what you hope is a reply, hunched over the toilet.

Carmen rushes to the store fridge, grabbing containers of soup Tina had prepared for family as the Chicago winter was getting close.

"You alright kid?" Richie mumbles, walking into the kitchen entry way, scratching his stomach as he watched Carmen's erratic movements around the store.

"Fuckin-, she's sick. And I'm here chopping up tomatoes for fucking Guy while she was in pain for god knows how long-"

"Woah, Bugs sick? We talking COVID or.."

"I'm such a fucking idiot. No it's not COVID Rich, Jesus Christ. Some rookie new spot trying something outside of their abilities gave her food poisoning. Fuckin' hipsters"

"Oh that's bad. You know when I got food poisoning the one time I took Tiff to this romantic getaway. Had me projectile vomiting in the AirBnb bathroom. Couldn't even get a deposit back, had to pay some dumb ass cleaning fee-"

Carmen wipes a hand across his face shaking his head. He was already pent up, he might throw a pan at Richie if he doesn't stop talking.

"Richie, I don't have time for this, I need to get her some Sprite or"

Richie shuffles across to the cupboard near the back of the house, grabbing bottles of Gatorade and a pack of saltine crackers.

"How do you even have this stuff lying around"

"You're the one with the inhuman alcohol tolerance Carmy, someone of us actually have hangovers you freak" Richie retorts

"Yeah yeah, thanks. Fuck- I gotta" Carmen replies, to which Richie nods.

"Go. I'll wrap up anything here" Richie replies, understanding in his voice. You took precedence over pretty much everything in Carmen's life.

"And Carm?"

"Yeah?" Carmen calls out, slipping on his jacket as he turns to Richie

"Tell me when we're going to sort out those bearded wearing flannel ass wipes"

Carmen shakes his head with a smile, before nodding and pushing past the kitchen doors. The traffic lights better be green green fuckin' green tonight.

You were stripped to a singlet and sleeping shorts as you knelt over the toilet, blinking back exhausted tears at the state of you.

You suppose you have no one else to blame but yourself, but the indignation righteousness burns almost as bright as the acid reflux crawling up your throat.

You hear the faint opening and loud clang of the apartment door opening and closing and you sigh in relief as you hear the familiar footfalls of Carmen down the hall.

It had felt damn near torturous suffering without him, and as he calls out to you following the trail of loose clothing he spots your figure in the bathroom sprawled.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry" Carmen says

And it was as if your body needed to finally feel safe in Carmen's presence before you felt the nausea spill out of you and splash offensively into the toilet.

You feel Carmen crouch above you, dragging your hair that had gone loose from it's wrapped up do away from your face. Gently rubbing your back, his large hands softly dipping up and down your spine.

"That's it, 'atta girl. Let it all out" Carmen coo's softly

You purged the insides of your stomach into the toilet bowl, retching loudly with every heave as Carmen comforted you. After what seemed like hours, and the nausea had subsided Carmen carefully wrapped his arms up under your armpits picking you up of the floor.

"Slowly, yeah? You damn near emptied out you're entire water content" Carmen murmurs, flushing the toilet and helping you walk to the basin and wash out the taste of bile from your mouth.

"I probably look insane" You cry out, blinking back exhaustion from your eyes as Carmen shakes his head furiously.

"Never, my pretty girl. Need you to go easy okay? Gonna take you to bed and let you sleep through it. Can't have you collapsing on me" Carmen murmurs, wiping at the edge of your mouth, patting the sweat that stuck to your forehead.

You let Carmen carefully maneuver your body, one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back walking to the bedroom. Your wring dry and can barely keep your eyes open as Carmen placed you on the cool sheets you immediately moan at.

You hear the faint rustle of movement as Carmen brings in a paper bag. The clunk of bottles placed on the bedside table as you sing praise for the very short bit of relief you have before the next bout of nausea rolls in.

Carmen pads to the adjacent bathroom, the door opened so you can see the stream of light that illuminates him. Hes running a cloth under water, squeezing the excess and looking up to check on you every so often.

He looked so...domestic, like he hadn't come back from working at one of the most decorated restaurants in Chicago. Stripped of his shirt so he stood bare chested, golden curls pushed behind his ears, sweatpants hung low on his hips and the furrow of his eyebrows in concentration and worry.

Your eyes flutter shut as you thank the midnight sky for bringing him to you, for keeping him for you, this one good thing that was yours.

The skies answer by the sound of his voice listing off all the things you will not be doing in this stage of recovery. Sitting on the edge of the bed as he places the cool rag against your forehead, lips between teeth as he feels your temperature under his skin.

"Just bone broth, Gatorade and bread sticks for you, doll. And no, before you even think it, its not the garlic ones." Carmen tsks.

You were thinking it. He knew you too well, but when he kisses your eyelids and measures out careful tips of the Gatorade bottle, you don't mind it.

[reveryfics]

Since your last fic was so amazing i would like to request another

Could you please write John Price x male reader where idk maybe because of a surgery he had to shave his beard and the reader just crying because let's be real everyone looks so different with or without a beard. Price comforting the reader saying it'll grow back and all, and the reader being more upset than Price.

Please and thank you

Different

Pairings: John Price x Male Reader

Summary: John recently shaved his beard without telling anyone, and you are more devastated about it then him.

A/n: I'm so glad you enjoy these fics and send requests! As someone with a beard who regularly has to shave to keep it nice, I love this idea. Requests are open!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hum of the ventilation system was the only sound in the 141 headquarters, a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of voices and the clatter of equipment. The Lieutenant sat alone in his office, the dim light of his laptop screen illuminating his weary face. He was reviewing a recent mission report, a joint operation with Alejandro Vargas, the details still fresh in his mind.

A sigh escaped his lips, a weary sound that mirrored the exhaustion in his bones. He rubbed his tired eyes, the caffeine from his morning coffee long gone. The silence in the office was deafening, the lack of his usual companion, Captain John Price, weighing heavily on him. He glanced at the empty coffee mug on his desk, a pang of despair hitting him. He was officially out of coffee.

With a groan, he reached for his phone, the screen illuminating the darkness of his office. A quick text to Price was sent: "You wouldn't happen to have any extra coffee, would you? Desperate."

A few minutes later, the door creaked open and Price entered, a familiar silhouette against the dim hallway light. He carried two steaming mugs of coffee, his laptop tucked under his arm, and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Here you go, love," Price said, setting the mugs down. "Thought you might need a caffeine boost."

"Thanks, John," He mumbled, reaching for the coffee. A small smile touched his lips, a rare occurrence these days.

Price pulled up a chair across from him, settling into his own work. The silence that followed was comfortable, a familiar rhythm to their late-night work sessions. They occasionally exchanged brief updates on their progress, but for the most part, they were lost in their own thoughts, their minds grappling with the complexities of their missions.

Hours passed, the clock on the wall ticking away relentlessly. Finally, he looked up from his laptop, his eyes widening in surprise. Price was sitting opposite him, his face clean-shaven.

"John?" He stammered, completely thrown off guard. "What…what happened to your beard?"

Price raised an eyebrow, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "It was getting a bit unruly, dear. Needed a trim."

Unruly? He scoffed inwardly. Price's beard was his trademark, a symbol of his rugged masculinity, a source of comfort for the Lieutenant. He felt a pang of disappointment, a childish petulance bubbling within him.

"You… you shaved it all off?" He mumbled, his voice laced with hurt.

Price chuckled, running a hand over his newly shaven face. "It'll grow back. Don't worry."

He crossed his arms over his chest, pouting like a child. He couldn't believe Price had done this, had dared to alter his appearance without consulting him.

"Baby, please," Price said, his voice laced with amusement. "It's just a beard. It'll grow back."

He ignored him, the image of Price's smooth face still jarring. He stood up abruptly, feeling the need to escape the sight.

Price watched him go, a smile playing on his lips. He knew his reaction was exaggerated, but he couldn't help but find it endearing. He followed him down the hallway, catching up with him at the old coffee machine.

He gently pushed him against the counter, his arms wrapping around his waist. "Look at me, love," Price murmured, his voice low and soothing.

He reluctantly turned, his eyes meeting Price's. He found himself lost in the familiar warmth of Price's gaze, the anger fading away.

"It'll grow back, darling," Price repeated, his voice a soft caress.

The Lieutenant sighed, cupping Price's face in his hands, his thumbs gently tracing the contours of his jawline. "You didn't have to shave it all off," he whined, his voice a mixture of exasperation and affection. "I can't believe you."

Price chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He leaned into his boyfriend's touch, enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend's hands on his face. He peppered his face with kisses, earning a series of soft giggles.

"I know, I know," Price said, his voice a low rumble. "I'm sure I'll hear about this for weeks."

He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. These moments, these small, intimate exchanges, were the anchors in their chaotic lives. They reminded him that beneath the hardened exterior, they were just two men in love, navigating the complexities of their relationship and the ever-present shadow of war.

Over the next few weeks, as Price's beard slowly began to grow back, the Lieutenant continued to tease him mercilessly, his childish behavior never failing to amuse Price. He knew it was all in good fun, a testament to the deep affection they shared.

As he watched Price navigate the awkward stages of beard growth, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. His world felt a little more normal, a little more complete, with Price's familiar beard slowly returning to its rightful place on his face.

[orbitariums]

rum punch | patrick zweig x black fem reader

writing this because patrick is definitely the type to text you like “if you wanna pull up just to get fucked here’s the addy”

obsessed with this song right now (rump punch by cash cobain) and listened to it over and over while writing this. i recommend listening to compliment your reading experience 🙏🏾 it’s sooo challengers especially patrick zweig coded. let’s review: “top five nasty, you ain’t even gotta ask me” and “soon as you leave i miss u too, like damn”; “don’t be asking questions like a interview cuz you really know what we finna do��...  “i just made her cum twice you ain’t make her cum once”?!!>!##? that’s patrick DOWN. sorry it must be said… 

so a little drabble-ish thing is ahead! contains: cheating (ooops), degradation, smut

it started when you started dating your current boyfriend, or at least that’s what you would tell yourselves to make you feel better about the whole ordeal — not that patrick cared much to begin with. but anybody who knew you and patrick knew that this had been going on for far longer than either of you would care to admit, or that either of you had enough introspective ability to even realize. every single playful shove, every time you squeezed his hand to deflect from parting at the end of a hangout, the way he’d stack his legs on top of yours while you were studying even though he knew you “hated” it, his thumb circling your hand, your head on his shoulder during a late night movie sesh with art and tashi, eyes fluttering closed until you found sleepy heaven in the perfect crevice of his neck. nearly every time you saw each other, which was frequent, you were touching without touching. art, who wasn’t one to make crass comments often, would always tell patrick: “it wouldn’t even make a difference, you should just go ahead and fuck each other. the shit you two do is more than just sex.”

it was 11:16 pm when you called him. your boyfriend had sped off in the middle of the night in a fit of anger after an intense argument about the same thing for the hundredth time. you were so tired. you’d been so close to texting or calling him before, but you refrained — you didn’t want things between the two of you to get messy when nothing in your life was going right in the first place. but now that you were nearly slumped against the wall with tears hot against your face, so tired beyond comprehension, you could blame it on the delirium brought on by exhaustion. you told yourself you just needed the comfort of your close friend, who always made you laugh.

“patrick, can i come over?” you’d asked, your voice trembling, your face buried in your sweater sleeve. 

patrick had never heard you sound so upset — he’d never even seen you cry. when you were around him, you were always so jovial and giggly. so when he heard your voice on the phone, so late at night, sounding so fragile and fractured, his eyebrows immediately knit together with concern, and he sat up on his couch. 

“yn, are you okay? is everything alright, you sound—”

“i’m fine,” you sniffled, breath catching on your voice multiple times. “just-just need a friend. please, can i come over?”

you couldn’t see it, but his features softened, and some wedge in his heart seemed to shift over,

“yeah. yeah, of course you can.”

he was so confused, but just glad to know that you were at least okay, taking pride in the fact that he was who you wanted to be around, whatever was going on. he made some rushed efforts to tidy up his bachelor apartment, sweeping crumbs under the rug, tucking in pillows on the couch, throwing yesterday’s takeout into the overflowing trashcan, and swiping the trash off his coffee table. 

he couldn’t believe how shrunken you looked when you appeared in front of his door that night, clad in an oversized stanford hoodie and sweatpants, slippers, tears still welling up in your eyes. this couldn’t be the same yn pushing him off of her with excessive force and maniacally cackling at his stupid jokes. 

“wh-”

before he could get a word out, you threw your arms around your waist, plopping your head down on his chest. he stilled for a moment out of shock, then relaxed into your touch, embracing you with his arms around your shoulders and down your back, holding you because he knew that’s what you needed right now. 

and then you were pulling away, sniffling and wiping away your tears, finally feeling some ounce of comfort now that you were with him. you knew, you knew, this was what you needed, as much as you had resisted this very thing. 

“it’s chris,” you said, moving past him and inside his apartment, groaning as you plunked down onto the couch. 

now, looking out the open door at the hallway ahead of him, patrick was nodding to himself silently, like he had come to some realization. he sat beside you, and you turned to him with a pout. and it was then that patrick knew he was not a good man for thinking about how pretty you looked with tears streaking your face and your lips pressed together in a girlish pout. 

“he’s like… intimidated by me or something. every single thing i tell him about my day, about work, about my friends, my wins… he’s always finding some thing to harp on like i’m some villain stopping him from achieving his finance bro dreams. he hates that i’m living my life because he isn’t living his yet. so every thing i earn, he just picks it apart and tears it down, questions my motives for everything.”

“he’s a dick, alright?” patrick said, in that ever so frank tone that you honestly missed, and wished you could hear during these arguments with your boyfriend. “yn, i’d never… we wouldn’t treat you like that, me and art and tashi. we’re your real friends, we celebrate you. that’s how a relationship’s supposed to go. he’s a stupid fuck.”

you grinned a bit at his correction, the corner of your lips turning up.

“i know you wouldn’t.”

“can i ask you something though, yn?”

“mhm?” you looked up at him with such innocent doe eyes that he didn’t want to call bullshit, but he was calling bullshit. 

“why… why’d you come over here? why not to tashi or your mom’s or… anyone else? why me?”

you sighed deeply, shaking your head,

“because, patrick, i… i just… want you right now.”

his face impossibly close to yours, intruding your senses and all your walls before you even realized they were up. 

“how do you want me?” he asked, his voice the softest it had ever been, his breath tickling your cheek. 

you were hoping you wouldn’t have to finish your sentence, and patrick knew it — his hands gripped the sides of your face with a stronghold, and then your lips were crashing against each other like a wave coming to the tide, foaming and sputtering and wetting the cracked sand at the shore. and it didn’t take long before you were climbing on top of him and straddling him, your clothes falling off one by one. his rough hand clutching your breast and squeezing, another in your panties navigating your clit like a fucking expert, making your back arch against the air. then your legs by your head as patrick drove himself into you, tender and slow and making you see stars instead of his face and the ceiling. fucking every tear out of you, turning your sobs of pain into sobs of pleasure. your moans were like a choir to him, licking flames against his earlobes each time you whimpered his name, leaving little half-circle imprints in his back with his nails. sweat dripping down his forehead as he clutched his eyes shut and tried not to come too fast, tried not to let the way you wrapped around him like a fucking snake— pussy squeezing his cock, legs trapping him inside you, hands roaming his back like new found land — make him lose focus. 

“fuck, your fucking moans. d’you have any idea how much i’ve thought about this? f- fuck, if you come to me crying again, i’m not gonna go so easy on you.”

if he had an ounce of self-respect, he’d have stopped you after the first time (he didn’t have the discipline to deny you completely), but something about him stirred at the unpredictable predictability of it all. he knew that at least once a week, you’d come crying to him over something your asshole boyfriend did to you, it was just a matter of what day of the week. 

he liked when you came over on friday nights most, because more often than not you’d stay the night, sometimes the weekend, making the excuse to your boyfriend that you were sleeping over at a girlfriend or your mother’s house. but really you were just spending the whole weekend getting fucked by your recovery boyfriend patrick, who would scrape up the little money he had to order food from your favorite thai restaurant every night and watch what were, in his opinion, the most insipid movies he’d ever seen — because he knew that less than halfway through you’d be split open on his cock, sobbing with pleasure into his shoulder as princess diaries became a distant echo in the background. his hand on the small of your back, his vision glazing over as he stares ahead at the tv, too enraptured by the sweet whimpers you make while you’re (attempting to) ride him, the sounds of your slick pussy swallowing him whole in slow intervals, panting and gasping as he speared you open because he was: “so big, patrick you’re so big.”

he’ll snap out of it then, find his hands wrapped around your waist and his lips buried in the crook of your neck,

“it’s okay, baby. you can take me.”

“i’m trying,” you wailed, the frustration so clear in your voice that it almost made him laugh. 

instead, he wrapped his hands around your waist firmly, leading you down onto his cock himself. 

“fuck!” you shouted out, practically collapsing forward onto him. “patrick, please—”

“if you can come to me crying just to get dick, you can take it.”

you gasped at the directness of his words, punching yourself for how much it turned you on. and he knew it too, by the way your pussy throbbed around his dick. you couldn’t see his face, but you could practically hear the shit-eating smirk in his voice as he grabbed your asscheek,

“yeah, your pussy loves it though. and you love being my little slut behind closed doors when your boyfriend isn’t acting right.”

you couldn’t control the moan that tumbled out of your lips when he said that, and definitely not the screech you let out when he started to thrust up, jackhammering into you so his cock reached the hilt. 

“that what you wanted?”

“yes, yes!” you wailed, nodding desperately, positively wrecked as your head practically hung over his shoulder, enveloped in a world of pleasure. 

“yeah… i know…”

and sometimes he won't be so nice. he'll be damn near using your pussy like a fleshlight, his body practically covering yours as he fucks you like an animal, hard and fast and rough, your pussy squelching around his cock each time he rams it into you. he'll use you like he's the one that needs comforting, like your pussy is the only safe haven he knows. and it's only fair, the way you hide out in his house and act like his dick is your life source. he fucks you like he's an athlete and this is his sport, tennis be damned. he'll degrade you anyway he knows how — because he knows you love it, knows it makes you finish two times as fast.

"he doesn't fuck you like this."

"you're such a fucking slut. come over here crying acting like you don't pull up just to get fucked." he'll laugh as he says this, and you want to smack his chest in indignation, but you can't manage anything but moans.

“you’re such a good girl. letting me use this pussy when i want.”

"there you go, squeeze my cock like it's yours."

"pussy's so greedy, getting fucked by the both of us. still so fucking tight."

"your boyfriend's probably wondering where you are." this has made you come twice now.

"whose pussy is it?" (and even though you have a man, you tell him it's his every time. sometimes he doesn't even need to ask, sometimes he fucks you so good that you just scream out: "it's your pussy — it's your pussy, daddy", and he'll chuckle and say: "i know.").

and you let him say these things and more, because he fucks you like no one ever has, like he knows something you told him in complete and total secrecy. like it's something so complex — but all it ever takes is one touch.

your friends have noticed something is different between you two, but it's honestly not a big jump from before — only this time, you guys sealed the deal and were actually fucking now. of course, patrick can't keep his mouth closed for long and ends up bragging to art, and you tell tashi because she's one of the girls, and now there's this unspoken understand between all of you. but no one feels the need to intervene, because honestly... it makes sense.

and you’ll have a conversation with him every other time, telling him “we have to stop doing this.” and one day he replies, 

“yn. not to be a dick or anything, but you’re the one who calls me. you act like you're coming over for comfort, but we both know it's my dick doing all the comforting."

and you know it’s true, you know patrick is right even if he is an asshole. but you won’t let that stop you from texting him: thai food and a movie? everytime your boyfriend fucks up. and patrick won't stop you either.

[johnwickb1tsch]

gif by ficsnroses

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 43 all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

43.  surprise

A week later John interrupts you in your studio, looking unfairly edible in old jeans and a white henley, wiping his hands with a greasy rag. By his little smile, you can tell he was watching you for a while, before purposely alerting you of his presence. 

You don’t mind the interruption. You were just playing around, not feeling particularly inspired, just doodling. It’s funny, how contentment can kill your driving need to make your mark on a canvas, as though you’ve made some devil’s bargain with your muse.  

“I have a surprise for you.” 

“Baaaabe…” It still makes you a little uncomfortable. All the gifts. He presented you with a new phone the other day, programmed with your old number no less, and you are still feeling guilty for some reason, even though he destroyed your last one. Aside from the photos, and the occasional texts with your friends who are usually too busy for you anyway…you hadn’t really missed the device. 

You asked if he would like for you to go back to work, feeling like a freeloader–and he laughed at you before kissing you silly, and walking out of the room. 

You’d called your mother to check in, and found out she didn’t even realize you were gone longer than you were supposed to be in Italy. Your youngest half-sibling was crying for something on the other end of the line, and she had to let you go after barely saying hello. 

You’re not really sure why you even try, anymore, but it left you feeling slightly less sad than usual after talking with her. At least, you’re not alone anymore. You have someone in your life who thinks you irreplaceable. You feel how precious that is, more than ever. 

“I think you’re really going to like this one. I’m going to like it too. Come on.” 

You sidle up to him, not moving half as quickly as he’d like. You can tell by the way he narrows his eyes down at you, those plush lips pulled in a half-smile. Truth be told…the way this simple white shirt fits across his chest does unmentionable things to you, and you’re not sure you’re in a hurry to go anywhere. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, you’re not getting your surprise today,” he playfully threatens. 

“I have everything I need right here,” you assure him, running hands over his pecs, completely distracted. He catches your mouth with a groan, strong hands digging into your waist hard enough to bruise. 

“I’m going to sling you over my shoulder in five seconds if you don’t come downstairs with me.” 

“No!” you giggle, nipping him on the lip and running out the door. He chases you, and you laugh as you sprint down the hall, adrenaline and too much joy to stand singing through your veins. You feel like your heart literally might burst. 

He doesn’t catch you until you are down the stairs and halfway across the living room, grabbing you up in his strong arms, bending you over backwards with the fury of his kiss. He grins like a wolf between nipping at your tender flesh, and suddenly you find yourself on the floor, sinking into the plush new area rug with his solid weight on top of you.

“Hey, what about my surprise?” you goad him, laughing as he seems to attempt to bite through your bra strap under your shirt.

“I have a different surprise for you now, kitten,” he growls, unbuttoning your jeans. Your mirth quickly turns to moans, as his long fingers find your wet center, swiping up your juices and circling your clit.

As surprises go–this wasn’t bad at all.

***

You make it to the garage–eventually.

He blindfolded you with a clean dish towel, because it was on hand after the two of you staggered drunkenly like lovesick idiots to the kitchen for a drink of water, after christening John’s new rug. Soft. Good cushion. 10/10. Imagining giving this review to Charlie’s tough-looking clean up crew makes you almost choke on an ice cube.

“John!” you complain when you bang your toe on something. A tool box? Your legs still feel like spaghetti. 

“Sorry,” he chortles, not sorry at all, but trying to lead you with more care with arms on your shoulders. You take little steps, trying to track where you are in the garage, but your brain isn’t really functioning yet. 

“Hold out your hands.” 

You do so, extending them in front of you, groping through the air. Your fingertips brush something rubbery. And…some metal tubing. Your other hand finds the cool curve of…a gas tank. “Are you taking me for a ride?” you ask excitedly, caressing the contours of the leather seat.

“I thought I just did?” 

“Pfft,” you tease. “On wheels. I missed the motorcycle.”  

“That’s good news. Because you’ve got your own now.”

What? 

Now you can’t stop yourself from tearing off the blindfold, finding a sleek beetle-black machine before you. It’s smaller, definitely not John’s bike–but it’s cool. 

“It’s a Kawasaki. Just 400cc’s,” he tells you, patting the seat. “Perfect starter bike. When you get the hang of it we’ll get you something with more kick.” 

The significance of this particular offering does not escape you. That he would offer you the means of transporting yourself independently speaks of this newborn trust between you–and it means the world to you. He only staggers a little when you suddenly throw your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. When do we start?”

“You’ll have to get your learner’s permit. But I’ll take you to the empty parking lot in town right now, if you want to start learning how to shift.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” His polished ebony eyes are absolutely shining, and you don’t know how it’s possible, that every time you think you couldn’t be happier, this man raises the bar again. 

How far the two of you have come.  

“One question.”

“Hmm?”

“Where does the samurai sword go?”

[johaerys-writes]

Ch. 6: now i'm ashamed

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

They arrive at their new hotel a little before noon. It’s one of those bland and boring airport hotels with no colour or personality, but a slightly fancier version of that because, of course, Achilles wouldn’t stay in a hotel sporting anything less than four stars. A bellhop is already waiting for them by the time their cab pulls up in front of the entrance to help them out of the car and carry their bags out of the trunk. 

It is the least of Patroclus’ problems, but it rankles that Achilles booked a suite with a double bed without even asking him first. Not that Patroclus really expected him to, but it still bothers him. Despite everything that’s happened between them in the past few days, Achilles has no right to pretend that they’re a couple. No matter how fun it was at first, it was extremely unwise and very irresponsible, and whatever spell Achilles has cast on him has thoroughly been broken now. None of the excitement of their illicit adventure remains. It feels wrong and dirty for them to continue this play-pretend; Patroclus wants none of it. 

The room is as bland and colourless as the rest of the hotel: there’s a beige cover on the bed and the furniture is also beige, and there’s a painting in beige tones above the bed. The bed itself, at least, is big and looks comfortable, and the tub in the bathroom has a hydromassage setting and is big enough for three people, let alone two.

Not that Patroclus will be using that, no matter how badly he may want to. He’s got a lot of work to do, and besides that, even if he does use it, it won’t be with Achilles. And he doesn’t care a fig how much Achilles grumbles and pouts about it. Patroclus is done catering to Achilles’ each and every whim. 

“This rug is awful,” Achilles complains, kicking off his shoes and putting on the disposable slippers that housekeeping left for them. “It’s so ugly, and the texture? It’d feel better if I were walking on packed straw. For the kind of money they’re charging, it is unacceptable to be greeted with this eyesore. I should lodge a complaint with the hotel’s interior designer.” 

“Knock yourself out,” Patroclus mutters irritably, pulling out the desk chair. He takes his laptop out of its case and connects to the wifi, steeling himself for the mountain of emails he’ll have to go through today. It’s close to the end of the workday in Greece, but a few of his team are still there, working on a new client project, so there will a lot for him to review before closing for the evening. Just because he’ll be arriving in Greece later than he’d thought doesn’t mean he can put off doing his work until then. He’s done more than enough of that in the past week; he absolutely cannot shirk his responsibilities any longer, not for Achilles or anything else. 

Peleus’ name flashes on his phone screen as soon as he switches it on, wishing them a safe flight and asking Patroclus to contact him as soon as they stop at Qatar for their connecting flight. Patroclus shudders when he is reminded that he still hasn’t come up with a good enough lie to justify the extension of their trip to Peleus. He doesn’t think there’s any excuse that would be believable enough to explain this whole mess.

He jolts a little when Achilles leans over him, his arms coming around Patroclus’ shoulders from behind. 

“Why don’t you come and take a bath with me, hm?” he whispers, lips caressing his ear. “We could relax, have a cocktail… Continue where we left off.” 

A flash of rage blinds Patroclus for a moment. He shrugs Achilles off, staring resolutely at his laptop screen.

“Get away from me,” he growls warningly. “I’m busy.” 

“Well, you don’t have to be,” Achilles tells him, a little miffed. “We won’t be going back home for another week, at least. Technically, you’re still on holiday.” 

“A week?” Patroclus turns around to pin him with a glare. “We’re leaving, Achilles. Tomorrow.”

Achilles purses his lips in a pout. “Five days.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Fine, four days. And a half.” 

“I’m not bargaining with you! We’re leaving tomorrow and that’s final. I’m booking the tickets right now.” 

“No, you’re not.”

“Watch me,” Patroclus says, turning back to his laptop and pulling up a flight booking page.  

Achilles’ hand shoots over his shoulder, but Patroclus catches his wrist on reflex; there’s a brief struggle where they both try to get their hands on Patroclus’ laptop, and Patroclus seems to be winning until Achilles basically climbs over his lap and onto the desk, slamming the laptop screen shut and sitting half-way on top of it. 

“Get off, you’ll ruin it!” Patroclus shouts, trying to catch Achilles’ legs and pull him off the desk, while Achilles kicks at him and clings onto the desk for dear life. It is all so comical and ridiculous that Patroclus is glad no one is around to see them right now. He throws his hands up with an angry huff. 

“Achilles, you fucking asshole—” He takes a step back and glares at him, sweating beneath his suit. He tries not to worry about Achilles’ weight that’s currently probably crushing his poor laptop as he says, “You’re like a child. You know that? A stubborn, arrogant, spoiled brat. Things always have to go your way, otherwise you’ll throw a fit and make it everyone's problem. I’m done with you, you hear me? I’m done with your bullshit. Done.”

“You weren’t done with me when you were doing me this morning,” Achilles retorts haughtily, tilting his chin up in defiance, and Patroclus has to use every ounce of willpower he possesses not to walk over to the desk and strangle him.  

“I'm never going to be doing you again after all this,” he says through gritted teeth. “Believe you me.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[murumokirby360]

My first ever Android Smartphone - Busted (Cherry Mobile Jelly) [feat. my Paper Dolls]

DeviantART version → [CLICK ME!]

Hello, August... 🏫🎒 It's been a rough and depressing month for me from nothing to earn funds for myself, to struggling with my life staying at home. 😟😞 Although I do occasionally go outside to get some fresh air when the sun is bright, it remains the same. 😔 I'm still stuck on my mom's slow-performance laptop, and I can't make item reviews because of the aforementioned laptop. 👩💻 Meanwhile, I'm still browsing some job openings, though the only problem was the "lack of trustworthy". I did apply once and I was going to go anyway, however, my mom investigated the details of where the venue at for a schedule, and it turns out that the job that I applied for was a sham... Yeah, I dodged the bullet on going there owning to my flashbacks of what happened in 2019. *Sigh* So much for that... 😟 I wish this type of fraud job would be ended by the time the government and authorities caught red-handed on fake application jobs. Right now, I've already applied for a job by submitting a resume to legit hiring via email, and to this day nobody answered my call. I'm still a helper for my parents' small rug business, although they didn't give me a raise, but small treats and food. Also, I'm selling my scrap computer parts, unfortunately, nobody seemed to be interested in my items... Bummer. 😔

[I want a end my life... But, I refused to kill myself. Not yet... 😟😞]

Should I keep posting and sharing my items on tumblr? 🤔 I'm still thinking about it, but for now this could be my last item... As we hit the first "Ber" month (September 📆), I need to take a break from posting it until my custom PC desktop brought back to life with a brand new GPU Card. 🖥️🔧

Anyway, let's head back to my last item (before I go *semi* hiatus):

• What I have here is my first ever cheap Android Smartphone after I graduated from vocational college [Computer Programing] in 2014. 👨‍🎓🏫💻 This here is the "Cherry Mobile Jelly". 🤖📱 Actually, it's now simply called "Cherry" which we'll get to that later. Nonetheless, I bought this cheap and small smartphone for ₱ 2,299 💵 from a local trustworthy cellular phone store at the mall, I should it picked the blue color because I loved that color for life 💙, although it is out of stock so I guess I'll settle with green anyway. 🟩📱🤷‍♀️ (After all, green signifies an android phone, right? 🟩🤖📲 Nonetheless...) As for the specs of this phone, it is pretty low-profile standard considering that this is a budget-friendly smartphone. Here, go see it by click here → [CLICK ME! #1]. Unfortunately, as you can see, my first cheap smartphone ended in 2015 due to poor quality, as I accidentally fell off my phone numerous times causing it to crack the touch screen (not to mention, the battery phone had bloated.), and my Jelly phone ended its life. It was only a matter of time before my old phone was replaced by the outdated "Samsung Galaxy S Duos 2" [GT-S7582] (which was also decommissioned somewhere in 2019). As for the so-called "Cherry" brand, they're still producing smartphones albeit a small ranges because they've already expanded to daily electronic appliances (e.g. slim smart TV, washing machine, air purifier, etc...). Pls, click here to see → [CLICK ME! #2]. One more thing, the only feature really I missed from using the old Cherry Mobile Jelly is the ability to watch TV by raising the mini antenna and opening the TV app, as you've seen on my snapshot. 📺📲😊

• When it comes to comparison with my current Tecno Spark 20 Pro [CLICK ME!] smartphone, well... You noticed the BIG difference. 📱📲 To be honest, I missed holding a small Android smartphone, as holding it could be a very advantage (which is like holding an old MP4 player) over a tall and bulky smartphone, like my aforementioned Tecno mobile brand. 😊 And surprisingly, they're still producing small smartphones albeit in ✌"Made in China"✌ and they're using a vanilla yet recent Android Operating System, unlike Samsung, Huawei, Oppo, Xiaomi, and other giant smartphone brands with their state-of-the-art features and current running Android OS. Maybe someday I'll get my hands on the small Android phone for a nostalgic sake? Who knows? 🤷‍♀️ For now, though, I guess I'll stick with the taller smartphones. And as for my first ever owned cheap Android phone, it's already a relic of its time. Time for you to return to the memorabilia box. 🙂

Well, that's all for now. If you want to see my previous topic, then please → [CLICK ME!].

Tagged: @bryan360, @shadowredfeline, @leapant, @lordromulus90, @coda-archive, @sammirthebear2k4, @alexander1301

[androidaddictsx]

Oukitel WP33 Pro Review - Rugged, 5G, eSIM, Night Vision, 22,000mAh

Oukitel have just released the WP33 Pro which is their latest rugged phone which packs in 5G, a 5W 8D speaker, Night Vision and a 22,000mAh battery! Let's put it through some tests and see how it fairs!

Oukitel have just released the WP33 Pro which is their latest rugged phone which packs in 5G, a 5W 8D speaker, Night Vision and a 22,000mAh battery! Let’s put it through some tests and see how it fairs! 00:00 Intro00:28 Unboxing01:17 Specifications03:28 Phone Design05:08 Speaker Volume Test05:44 Side Key06:29 Day Video07:29 Camera Photos07:53 Night Video08:08 Benchmarks08:22 New State…

[tervaneula]

Okay i got an emil notification about your NQK update before your tumblr post?! Now that surprised me!

It's like 1 AM and i don't think leo is the only one with Insomnia - ngl i felt that am getting called out 😂 - So we start and i think because it's been a long time friend the previous NQK chapter i really forgot that F!Donnie is now " Donatello " whil F!Mikey js "Michaelangelo" and brain was flipping between "huh? Is that the youngest or the eldest?!"

So we start right off with with F!Dee getting jealous and boy oh boy i believe little ol' Donnie will find this exciting and more of a "parent figure approval" 😂

The talk goes to the bandana and i kid you not i remembered previous fics where some F!Leo/s had either put the other masks as a nice accessory ir put it on his sword and just hung it there as a memory (forgot the fic).

So this makes me think of "How F!Leo would make of the bandanas AFTER he make peace with decades of war?" It really makes me excited thinking about it 🤩

Also it made me think - don't know if i asked before but - does F!Leo still can open his portals and travel? (I know in other fic he can but what about the Canon fic NQK?).

It's kinda sad how Leo's still holding on to the masks but still understandable because well... It's been decades of WAR! That can't be just brushed under the rug with a nice few months in the lair. So until F!Leo finally decided when he can " move on " he deserves to keep the masks with him...

F!Leo hugging ghost!F!Dee was so sad and somewhat... Bittersweet? Because he's glad he can see/talk and almost hug his twin but that's about it, he wants to be greedy and have the two of them, april, his dad back home but that would be too much (And am sure he would be worried about 'Don't push your luck' type of quote or he may lose everything).

But AHHHHHHHHH AM SCREAMING FOR THE ART PIECE YOU MADE! SURE IT'S SAD BUT THE COLORS AND ART STYLE IS REALLY WARMING ME UP AS IF IT'S - again - A BLANKET!! I LOVE THIS FEELING 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Then que F!Mikey entering the chat (lmao ngl thought that was little mikey) and took a pic lol!! I don't know if he can take picture of ghosts but imagine if you can use mystic power or ninpo to see ghosts in the picture?! That would be awesome, F!Dee & F!Raph would mess with so many people.

And then here comes Dracum entering the chat 🐐😂 MF i can imagine him entering the room with sandal in hand ready to beat F!Mikey up especially after hearing "I used it to lift a blanket up" 😂😂😂

But it was so surprising to me when be gave him a "therapist" card, from the color purple i thought it was from either Donnie or 🤢 Big mama 🤢

But god i love a soft carrying dad draxum like my next door neighbour! Always welcomed 🩷

That's all for my review for the chapter! It was such a great treat since it's been a while! Am still gonna keep my eyes - and phone - open for any updates because LORD I LOVE NQK🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

LMAO YEAH that's because I really wanted to publish the chapter that day but was already crashing when I posted it, so couldn't make a Tumblr post until the next day 😂

Hehe we'll see what Leonardo will do with the masks! First of all, wash them, probably :D He has a weird relationship with all of his keepsakes, re: the Raph-like prosthetic arm. He doesn't want to get rid of them but seeing them also still hurts, despite everything :')

Yes NQK Leonardo can use his portals!! He just hasn't had a reason to do that in the main fic (yet 😎)

God. Fug. Dang dude. "Don't push your luck or you may lose everything" legitimately made me tear up. That whole paragraph contributed, actually. "HE WANTS TO BE GREEDY" like ajkhjdsfhj how dare you (/aff) hit me with an emotional bomb like this all of a sudden. He does. He wants all of his family, he doesn't think it's fair that only three of them survived, and this brings us back to the enormous guilt he feels for not being able to save everyone.

Donatello is there with him, not in flesh but literally in spirit, he can be hugged and talked to, but Leonardo wants him to live. It's so freaking heartbreaking. I as the author have the power to bring him his family back, in flesh and blood and bone, but like I said ages ago, that's not what NQK is about. It's about accepting loss and healing and finding happiness, and about family and love. They can't change the past any more than what they've already been graciously given, the only way is forward. ;_;

BUT THANK YOUUU for liking the drawing, it makes me go 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 so bad jdfhj (and to make it worse, I made a different version which I'll post here later)

Ninpo ghosts show up in photos normally!! At least in NQK universe they do 😂 Too bad for Donatello, can't do all the crime if he can be caught in 4K

Soft caring dad Draxum ftw<333

THE THERAPIST CARD. Oh my gosh Draxum does NOT trust Big Mama one bit, rest assured, and Donnie has no such connections. No, the light purple colour is actually referencing... drum roll... THIS GUY

Yes Tev is now a yokai and a part of NQK universe but no, she won't show up in the fic so no worries about me actually bringing in non-canon characters. "Leonardo Goes To Therapy" is not a chapter I want to write, nor sprinkle in the appointments in detail, so it all happens off-screen 😂

Thank you SO SO SO MUCH again for reading and spending your precious time writing this comment!!!! It made me so happy but I'm a little sorry that this reply got so long and rambly XD ANYWAY ILYSM

[lavenoon]

1st of all, need to say, adored Dove on the Roof and I'm sending you the longest review once I can after work, this is a threat 🔪 2nd of all–if you've thought of it and you wanna share the tidbit–I loved how after sharing Horizons name and Y/N admitted they only used his gadgets, Moon said he was gonna tell Eclipse abt it, Re:

“I’m going to tell him you said that. It’ll be terrible, because he’ll get even smugger, but it’s too good not to.”

and like. Luce. If you wanna share. I'd love to know how Eclipse reacted to that. Bc yes he'll be so smug abt it i just know it, but i also think he'd be really touched that like, his brothers' partner feels that strongly abt the stuff he makes? Struggling to stay coherent bc English is not my first language, but I just gosh. i loved it. going bonkers. hitting u w that long review later. get ready. -Soldrope ☀️💧

New morning new braincells, let's go!

I have devoured your comment(s) and I have been so so normal about the amount of thought and analysis and how many things you've caught that I tried to write in! I'm so so happy that it all came across and I literally cried reading your comments already gfdhjs now I only hope I soon get the spoons to go through my ao3 inbox and reply to the comments I've amassed

As for Moon telling Eclipse? It didn't happen in that window between Moon date fade-out and Sun date, because Moon was too busy cuddling and being a lovebird (he finally gets to be a bird too! <3), though it'll happen after the Foxy conversation after Sun's date.

That conversation will be addressed in a proper drabble/ chapter (they've been getting longer, so by now drabble feels no longer appropriate gfhdjs), so since I haven't written that yet this might not quite fit with how things turn out, but it'll be a fun thought until then!

Because after all that, and not charging the night before due to cuddle priorities (and they haven't quite yet reached the stage of a permanently installed charging cable at Y/N's side of the duplex) (it's definitely a thought though, because lugging around their cable for sleepovers has a bit of a hassle), Moon will excuse himself for a quick charge before work, and handle a little special phone call <3

(Eclipse will be smug enough. Moon doesn't need to make the gloating even easier by providing something to screenshot)

Eclipse, on the other hand, is positively surprised and doing his best not to be weirded out by a spontaneous phone call from his brother. That just didn't happen before! He's still getting used to the closer contact, too, and his first thought won't be a good one. Maybe another emergency? At least this time he'll hear about it sooner?

Well, only for Moon to pull the rug from under him completely.

"What do you mean, you haven't talked about me before?"

"I mean, we were trying to flirt, which already kept misfiring. Adding complicated family history that paints a rather ugly picture of us when they never asked wasn't really... Something that came up."

A sigh, and Eclipse does his best to cover up the lingering hurt. He knows their relationship was rocky at best, and he wasn't exactly eager to talk about them to other people either.

(It helps a little, knowing that part of it was guilt - he wasn't forgotten, instead his brothers felt too bad to casually bring him up. But he also doesn't like being a guilty secret either. In the end, he pushes it away to unpack later, and focus on the conversation at hand)

"How did it 'come up' then?"

Silence from the other end, as Moon quickly decides that no, he's not going to explain that he made his own first date emotionally charged in the heavy way to finally talk about his brother, much less the exact conversation that sparked it.

Eclipse never asked for their favorite colors, either.

"No, no, look, that's not the important bit. They went off on me for not telling them."

"Makes sense."

"Because they're a fan of your work."

"Makes s- huh?"

"They like your designs. They exclusively buy their own gadgets, except for when one of yours gets distributed. They said, and I quote, 'That Horizon?'"

Again, silence, as Eclipse processes that. That's so far from what he expected, or even figured would ever be in store for him. He knows his work is good, the agency doesn't really entertain slackers and subpar work, not for leading researchers - but that doesn't mean he feels appreciated. The people he works with are more neutral to annoyed by his antics, and the actual results he produces seemingly fade into the background.

So hearing there's someone out there who, dare he say it, is a fan?

He already thought Y/N/ Robin is nice enough from just the stories Sun and Moon shared before, but this? Now, within seconds, he's decided he has to meet them and become friends.

Hopefully they'll still like him once they've met him.

By now, he's been silent for a while.

"... Eclipse?"

The anxiety gets pushed away yet again, and instead Eclipse starts laughing. Softly, first, but then it turns into a full blown cackle.

Moon just sighs.

"Here we go."

"Since when? How long have they liked my stuff?"

"I didn't ask, that wasn't exactly the focus of the conversation."

"You can ask right now though! Ask them!"

"They're at work!"

"Send them a text then! You'll say you forgot if you don't do it now!"

"I wouldn't forget!"

"Yeah, but you'd say that!"

They squabble a bit, and it feels nice - just your normal, comfortable sibling banter, something they didn't get to share for the longest time. Both draw it out, just a bit, to enjoy it more.

Moon does send the text, but only after making a production out of "not wanting to". Eclipse laughs some more, that smug snicker of a younger sibling winning out over the older one.

And then he thinks of something else, too.

"Oh, oh, have you told them about that drone I've been trying to get approved?"

"No, I haven't, tell them yourself. Did that still not go through? You mentioned that weeks ago, they're really dragging their feet."

"They say it's a fire hazard, and I keep trying to explain that that's the reason why I need them to approve the more expensive fireproof material. Somehow they don't seem to understand that."

The conversation drifts towards other topics, then, but Eclipse is very much soaring from the start of it. That little "tell them yourself" is enough to reassure him on so many levels - this isn't an exception, this is going to be normal, his brothers want him to meet their partner, want to introduce them and give him a chance to talk to them himself.

The anxiety is still there, and a bit of it we see in Duck Duck Goose - he needs them to like him, needs things to go well, and to leave a good impression. He's more than just his work, and unfortunately he's afraid that they won't like the person behind the codename, and that confidence boost of them liking his work doesn't quite shine through.

They'll get there! It'll just take a bit of work, and time, but they're all very willing to put that effort in <3

[dreamerofvalyria]

Downtime | 141 Monster AU | Kat

Summary: After a grueling mission, the men of the 141 (and their newest member to join their band of merry monsters) are finally able to indulge in some downtime. Of course, Soap and Kat can’t just play nice for once. 

Notes: Introduction of one of my OC characters into the 141 Monster AU made by the lovely @cyber-nya​ ! I’ve been obsessed with it for so long now and I just have to play around with it. Kat’s monster form is based on one of my tattoos (can include the design for those interested). Possible rivals to lovers??? IDK, do they have potential??? Never written for CoD, still getting a feel for the characters, plz be gentle ;w;

Pairing: (Platonic) OC x 141, potentially leading to future Soap x OC??

Warnings: Fluff.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Next: Fear Responses Pt. 1

Soap couldn’t have been more relieved to get the news that their squad will be given several days to rest and recuperate after their most recent mission. It was by no means a difficult or dangerous one, but dear lord did it seem to drag on forever. Weeks of dragging their sorry asses through thick mud and jungle in pursuit of their target, trying to find where the bastard was hiding the people he’d taken hostage. Intel was practically non-existent throughout, so there was an unbelievable amount of footwork required, even with the help of a handful of scouts who had accompanied them.  

So to know for certain that they’ll have the next few days to rest their aching bodies is enough to have their whole group breathing a collective sigh of relief. There’s still plenty of paperwork to do and exercise routines to follow, but it also provides plenty of opportunity for napping and engaging in hobbies.  

Gathered in their small bunker on base, the group are all doing their best to make the most of their precious downtime. Gaz is sat at the table, leaning back into his chair while he taps away at his phone, scrolling through some sort of social media site. Originally, he’d tried to get away with putting his feet up on the table, only to be met with Price’s patented Look of Disapproval. Suffice to say, his feet were hastily removed with a quite “sorry, sir,” and a sheepish grin.  

The captain just shakes his head before returning to the report he is in the middle of reviewing at the other end of the table.  

Across from them, on the rather run down (but still surprisingly comfortable) sofa, Ghost is silently reading. From a glance, it looks to be a mystery novel of some kind, and the spectre seems to be entirely drawn in by the plot. So, of course, Soap just has to disturb the peaceful moment.  

With his hair still slightly damp from the shower – the third one of the day, because somehow there is still mud in places mud should never be – Soap plops himself down on the couch on the opposite end from the Lieutenant. He ensures to stretch himself out as far as possible, taking up the entire space and resting his legs directly across Ghost’s lap.  

He receives a fierce glare or his efforts, having broken the man’s concentration, but Soap simply offers up one of his winning smiles in return. Ghost rolls his eyes so hard that he briefly worries they may roll right out of their sockets, but eventually concedes defeat with an irritated sigh, returning to his novel.  

Satisfied and very comfortable with his current position, Soap begins to search the room with his eyes, attempting to seek out the newest member of their curious group. It doesn’t take him long – he'd somehow managed to overlook her presence when entering the room – and he finds her sat quietly on the rather shabby rug.  

A demon cat.  

Soap had laughed when they’d been introduced, assuming this was some sort of joke Price was pulling. Only, it wasn’t. He was being dead serious about there being a freaky, demonic cat being added to their squad.  

She looked normal enough when using a human form, nothing to tell her apart from any other regular woman, but her scent betrayed her. The rest of the group didn’t seem to take notice of it, but his nose had immediately flared when he caught the distinct smell of cat. He saw hers do the same, eyes widening slightly and her body growing tense.  

A hellhound and a demon cat. Whatever higher up decided to put them together was either having a laugh or was a complete idiot.  

‘Kat’ was her callsign. How original.  

For weeks, there had been a tense standoff between the two of them, and it had only grown worse when they began to run actual missions together with the team. She was an infiltration expert and, admittedly, was brilliant at what she did. After all, you’d have to be paranoid to think that the stray cat wandering past your compound was actually a British spy.  

But whenever her form changed and Soap found himself looking at a tiny, defenceless cat, he couldn’t help the way his heart thundered with excitement. Blood, hot like magma filled his body and his instincts chanted with excitement, “run, chase, hunt, kill!” It was only natural, but unfortunately, put a great deal of distance between the two of them.  

It had taken months more before she had finally been comfortable enough with allowing the team the chance to see what she truly looked like. Not a human, not a regular looking cat, but her natural, demonic appearance.  

It was completely normal for her to have reservations about showing herself to them. Only recently they were complete strangers, and while battle forms powerful bonds between squad members, it’s still a huge display of trust for any non-human to let others see their real form. It was clearly nerve-wracking for her but she still followed through in the end, shifting into a new body and sitting patiently before them.  

She was... well, to use Ghost’s exact wording, “the ugliest fucking cat I’ve ever seen.” There was not a single patch of fur to be found, only pale pink skin covered with wrinkles. But the part that really drew Soap’s attention were the eyes, completely blacked out, entirely lacking any visible irises or pupils. They were just black pits, staring back at them like the abyss itself.  

Her response to Ghost’s rather blunt statement is an open-mouthed hiss, showing off her surprisingly sharp fangs and the forked, serpent tongue hiding behind them. Obsidian eyes narrowed, she stalks toward him, rumbling out a low growl. Fortunately, before anything could happen, however, Gaz was crouching down and informing Kat of just what a pretty sphynx she was, gently stroking the patch of skin between her ears.  

When the man stands up again, Kat proceeds to wind around his ankles, purring loudly and rubbing her cheek against his legs to share her scent with him. For some reason it causes Soap to momentarily bristle, the hound inside him growling possessively at the sight of someone else marking his squad mate with their scent.  

Kat’s revenge on Ghost comes later, when she shifts into a large, white cat and proceeds to go to town rolling all over his black clothes. To this day, Ghost still finds the occasional white strand stuck to his shirts. He now appreciates that their team mate prefers a hairless form.  

And now, she’s sat just away from Ghost, head shifting slightly every now and then as she watches the little tendrils of darkness that sway around the man’s body like branches in a soft breeze. She stands, eyes widening slightly as she narrows in on one little tendril in particular. It’s languidly moving across the floor, back and forth as Ghost focuses on his book, seemingly oblivious to the danger he’s in.  

The demon crouches, creeping a few steps closer – and Soap can’t help the grin that threatens to break out when she proceeds to do that cute little butt wiggle all cats do when lining up a target – before pouncing. She grabs a hold of the tendril, attempting to pin it down as it writhes and flails, yet surprisingly, Ghost doesn’t even twitch.  

Apparently, he’d been paying attention after all.  

Kat rears back, changing tactics. She begins whacking at the tendril with her paws like it’s a dangerous snake, hissing as she attempts to subdue the beast. Her claws must still be retracted, because she’s not actually doing any damage and Ghost doesn’t seem to be concerned. When the tendril suddenly shifts, the cat near enough shoots into the air, startled by the abrupt movement.  

Before Soap can laugh at the reaction, Kat pins him with a glare, lips curling rather grumpily. She abandons the assault on the inky appendage and instead presses her side up against the lieutenant’s leg, looking up at him with a questioning mewing sound. The man in question looks down at Kat from under his book, staring at her for a long moment, before sighing heavily, as though the very life is being drained from his bones (not that he has any life to drain in the first place, being a ghost and all).  

Ghost shoves Soap’s legs off of his lap, earning a deeply insulted gasp. It’s followed by an even more dramatic one when Kat leaps up off of the floor and onto Simon’s lap, claiming the area vacated by Soap’s legs. She turns around twice in place, before settling down, curled up in a little ball.  

“Thought ye didn’t like cats, L.T.? Not goin’ soft are ye-”

“Shut up, Soap,” Ghost grunts back, effectively cutting him off with his gruff tone. He returns his eyes to his book, his free hand automatically reaching out to rest on the top of Kat’s head. She’s tiny in comparison to the hand of death incarnate, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered, quite the opposite it seems, for she lets out a soft purr, leaning up to scent the gloved hand above her.  

“Oh, ah see how it is. When it’s me layin’ in ye lap then it’s all “fuck off, Soap,” but when she does it-”  

“She don’t smell like a bloody wet dog.”

Soap puffs up a little at that. “Well, tha’s just rude,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest, “least I don’t look like a wee goblin.” He attempts to put his legs back on Ghost’s lap again, this time on either side of Kat, but she’s vicious in her defence of her new resting place.  

Every time a foot gets within range, Kat is swatting at it with a paw, ears pinned back as she spits and hisses. Their battle rages for several minutes, only drawing to an end when Ghost grows tired of being in the middle of the cat versus dog fight and swats away Soap’s invading legs.  

“Leave the cat alone, sergeant.” Ghost doesn’t bother looking up from his reading, his other hand returning to petting the feline pleasantly curled up in his lap. He scratches the underside of Kat’s chin and the demon’s eyes slip closed in bliss, purring growing steadily louder. When her eyes open again, she fixes Soap with the smuggest little grin he’s ever seen.

“Cats,” Soap huffs.  

Kat just hisses back at him, clearly returning the sentiment.  

[zzz-updates]

Bangboo Trick or Treat | Create Your Own Halloween Bangboo Contest

"Ehn-na, ehn-na-ehn-na! (Trick or Treat!)"

A Bangboo's here for some Halloween candy!

What might the Bangboo outside your door look like? Let's draw it!

Participate in the event for a chance to win Polychrome ×5,000 and Bangboo merch~

>> Official Hoyolab post <<

[Event Duration]

· Submission Period

2024/10/21 – 2024/11/5 23:59 (UTC+8)

· Evaluation Period

2024/11/06 – 2024/11/27

· Announcement Period

2024/12/02 – 2024/12/08

[Event Prizes]

🎁First Place (3 Winners)

Polychrome ×5,000, Phone Stand - Bangboo Edition ×1, and Rug - Bangboo Edition ×1

🎁Second Place (5 Winners)

Polychrome ×2,000 and Phone Stand - Bangboo Edition ×1

🎁Third Place (10 Winners)

Polychrome ×1,000 and Zenless Zone Zero Merch Bundle ×1

🎁Fourth Place (50 Winners)

Polychrome ×300

※ Event prizes will be issued within 90 days after the announcement period

[How to Participate]

· Submit your work on HoYoLab

Step 1: During the event, use the template below to unleash your imagination and create your own Bangboo.

Step 2: Post your work with the topic #Hallowboo.

· Submit your work on social media

Step 1: During the event, post your work that adheres to the [Submission Rules] on social media platforms including X (formerly Twitter), Facebook, and Instagram with the hashtags #zzzero #Hallowboo.

Step 2: Click the link and fill out the submission info correctly.

>> https://forms.gle/NMmbhKavEbGjAbEv7

※ Proxies participating in the event must ensure submission posts and profiles are public.

[Submission Rules]

· Submissions must be images in JPG or PNG format and up to 20 MB in size. Unfinished sketches, pixel images, and videos will not be recognized as submissions.

· Only one work can be submitted per submission. For multiple artworks, please submit them separately in multiple submissions.

· A single HoYoverse account can make multiple submissions and participate in the evaluation multiple times, but a single HoYoverse account can only win one prize.

· Submissions should be completed within the submission period of 2024/10/21 – 2024/11/05 23:59 (UTC+8). Late submissions will not be accepted.

· Please carefully read the [Notes]. Submissions violating the rules stipulated in the [Notes] will be disqualified. Depending on the severity, violators may be permanently banned from HoYoLAB and from participating in any future HoYoLAb events.

[Judging Rules]

· The organizer will evaluate and select the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th place winners based on completeness, aesthetics, creativity, popularity, and consistency with the theme of this event.

· If there are too few qualified submissions or if submissions do not meet quality requirements, there might be unissued prizes.

· If a winning submission is disqualified due to violations, another submission will be selected as the winner.

[Notes]

1. Please ensure you are an adult according to the laws of the country or region where you reside or have obtained permission from your guardian to participate in the event.

2. Please do not post anything that violates the community or site rules, or anything unrelated to the event (including but not limited to unrelated links or other advertising content). At the same time, any actions that may disrupt or attempt to disrupt the fairness of the event (including but not limited to using tools to cheat) may result in the right to participate or obtained prizes being revoked and, depending on the circumstances, a ban from future events.

3. This event is held across multiple platforms, the prizes mentioned apply across all platforms, and no allocations are made based on the platform or region.

4. The organizer will carefully review all participating accounts. During the event, to create a positive environment for our game and community, all Proxies should remember to adhere to the HoYoverse Terms of Service, Privacy Policy, and HoYoLAB Community Rules, as well as understand and agree to not participate in or post the following:

- Any content that contains hate or prejudice against any race, gender, religion, sexuality, culture, region, etc.

- Any sensitive, NSFW, provocative, or controversial content

- Harassment or bullying directed at any individual or group

- Providing misleading or invalid information

- Content or works that violate Trademarks, Copyright, patents, portrait rights, or other legal protections, as well as content or works that were stolen, plagiarized, reposted without permission, or involve falsely claiming to be the creator of the work

- Taking advantage of loopholes in the rules or technical flaws to participate unfairly

- Spreading misinformation or causing others to spread misinformation regarding the current event, or any other slander that may damage the reputation of the organizer

- Violating any event rules imposed by the organizer, initiating or participating in any acts that may prevent the event from proceeding as usual, or any acts that may negatively impact the fairness of the event or organizer, or negatively impact the event or organizer itself

- Using submitted works for commercial use, or granting commercial use rights to other parties during or after the event

- Any other acts forbidden by laws, regulations, the game Terms of Service, etc.

Those who fail to adhere to these stipulations will have restrictions imposed upon them, including but not limited to, disqualification of submissions, disqualification from the event, banning of accounts of communities or platforms under the organizer, etc.

5. If any winning submission or participant is disqualified due to any violations of rules and regulations during the winner announcement period, new winners shall be selected from qualifying participants, and the organizer reserves the right to permanently disable all and any permissions of the violator's HoYoLAB account, including permissions to participate in any community events.

6. By participating in the event, you agree to give the organizer the right to publish or use your submission both online and offline without additional payment. The organizer reserves the right to post exceptional submissions to HoYoLAB, label the submission as exceptional content, or recommend it on the HoYoLAB homepage. Whether a post is recommended or not does not affect the actual prize allocation. Prizes will be awarded based on the final results of the judging period. The author retains the permanent right of authorship.

7. Please provide your in-game UID correctly within the timeframe stipulated if you win any virtual prizes. Failure to do so will result in the forfeiture of your prize.

8. Please make sure to provide your delivery address correctly, within the timeframe stipulated by the event, if you win any physical prizes. Failure to do so shall be considered a forfeiture of your prize. Once submitted, the delivery address cannot be modified, and we will not resend the prizes if our logistic provider fails to deliver due to an incorrect address.

9. Physical prizes will be sent out within 90 days after the event has ended, so please remain patient. In the event of failure to send the physical rewards due to low inventory, logistics issues, or other unavoidable causes, some physical rewards may be substituted with other prizes of equal value. There may be some delays in prize delivery. We appreciate your understanding. During the prize delivery, you will need to contact your local customs and declare the item if needed for customs clearance. Prizes will not be resent if delivery fails due to failure to complete customs clearance. Please contact the logistics provider first if your item is damaged.

10. Collected personal information (if any) during this event will be used solely for prize delivery purposes. More information can be found in our Privacy Policy on our official site. Collection and usage of your personal information will strictly abide by our Privacy Policy.

11. During or after the event period, participants shall not use or grant to any third party commercial use of submissions unless they obtain written consent from the organizer; failure to comply may result in disqualification by the organizer.

12. If you discover any work that plagiarizes another work, was reposted, or violates any form of Copyright, Trademark, etc., please send the violating submission and link of the submission to customer service and outline their violations. In addition, for any other questions, please also feel free to contact our customer service email: zzzcs_en@hoyoverse.com.