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studioaudio · 1 year ago

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7 Ways to Design On-Hold Messages That Your Callers Will Love

When customers call your business, they expect to be answered quickly and efficiently. But what happens when they are put on hold?

You can make the wait time productive by designing on-hold messages that your customers will love.

Here’s how:

1. Start with an engaging introduction

When it comes to designing on-hold messages that your callers love, the introduction is the key factor in making it engaging enough to keep your callers engaged and interested.

An effective introduction should accurately reflect the topic of the message and be compelling enough to draw the attention of your callers.

Here are a few ways to create an engaging introduction for your on-hold messages.

Establish the Tone: The introduction should quickly establish the tone of the message in the shortest amount of time. Your callers should be able to understand the purpose and intent of the message from the very start.

Capture Attention: It is important that your introduction captures the attention of your callers as quickly as possible. Use creative language and lively dialogue to help engage your callers from the beginning.

Include Audio Clips: Incorporating audio clips into the introduction of your message can help to draw in your callers and keep them engaged.

Ask a Question: Asking a question in your introduction can be a great way to get your callers thinking and help them to engage with the content of the message.

Make It Personal: Make sure to include personal touches in your introduction to make it more appealing to your callers. It can be done by addressing them by name or by incorporating their unique interests.

With a well-crafted introduction, your on-hold messages will be sure to make an impact on your callers.

2. Keep the message concise

Creating an effective on-hold message for your business is essential for ensuring an enjoyable customer experience. A key aspect of making sure your message delivers the desired impact is to keep it concise.

Long messages can lead to a lack of engagement and understanding from your customers, making it important to ensure that you get your point across quickly and efficiently. The best way to ensure your on-hold message is concise is to plan and structure it in advance.

Start by mapping out the main points you want to include in the message and make sure that each point is given its own dedicated space. It will help you to identify any ideas that are superfluous, which can then be removed. It is also important to keep your language clear and direct, avoiding the use of overly complex terms or phrases.

Your message should be easily understandable to your target audience and focus on the key points that you want to communicate. It is also important to ensure that your message can be conveyed comfortably in the time available.

Unless you have an automated system, it is a good idea to time your message and ensure that it can fit comfortably within the expected duration of a customer’s on-hold experience. It will also ensure that the flow of your message is smooth and natural.

By following these simple tips, you can ensure that your on-hold message is concise, informative, and engaging. With careful consideration, you can create a message that effectively communicates your message to your customers and helps to improve their overall experience.

3. Include your brand message

When designing on-hold messages for your callers, it’s important to include your brand message and reinforce your company’s core values. Your messages should be concise, yet comprehensive, conveying why customers should engage with your business.

Think about the core benefits that your business offers to customers and craft messages that will effectively communicate them. Consider the values of your organization and the reasons why customers should choose your business over the competition.

It’s also essential to ensure that your message is easy to understand and won’t overwhelm your callers. The goal should be to create messages that are simple yet powerful, delivering the key message that customers need to hear in a way that they can easily understand.

For example, you might choose to emphasize the quality of service, the convenience of ordering, or the value of products. Your message should be clear and direct, while still engaging and relatable. It’s also important to include a call to action in your messages.

Ask your customers to take an action, such as visiting your website or subscribing to your newsletter. It will help to increase engagement with your brand and generate more leads.

Include your brand message in your on-hold messages to ensure that your callers remember your company and don’t forget to take the desired action. It will help to increase customer satisfaction and build brand loyalty.

4. Incorporate music

Music has the ability to influence people’s emotions and can be a powerful tool in creating a positive and engaging experience for callers on hold.

Incorporating music into on-hold message designs can help create a more soothing atmosphere for the caller, improving customer satisfaction and setting an appropriate tone for customer interactions.

Here are some tips for designing on-hold messages that feature music in an effective way.

Choose Appropriate Music: The music you choose should be appropriate for the context of the call. Choose music that is pleasing to the majority of customers and avoid anything that may be seen as too aggressive or loud.

Create a Pleasant Atmosphere: Using a light, the upbeat musical track can make the waiting experience more pleasant for the caller. This can also help reduce customer frustration, which can ultimately lead to better customer satisfaction.

Keep it Brief: Music should be used sparingly in on-hold messages. Avoid long, drawn-out musical pieces that could become tedious for callers. Instead, aim to keep pieces around 30-60 seconds in length.

Incorporating music into an on-hold message design can help create a positive and engaging experience for callers. By following these tips, you can create an on-hold message that your customers will appreciate and enjoy.

5. Provide helpful information

Provide your callers with helpful information that is relevant to your business and the services you provide. Including interesting facts and/or trivia is another great way to design messages that your callers will love.

Adding a bit of humor or a fun anecdote can also help to keep your callers engaged. Additionally, you can provide helpful tips and links to resources that can be used to assist customers in the future.

Finally, it’s important to keep your messages concise. You’ll want to make sure that you include only the most important information, and that your message isn’t overly long. You’ll want customers to stay on the line long enough to get the information they need, while also ensuring that they don’t become bored or disinterested.

6. Use a professional voiceover

Using a professional voice-over will help you create high-quality recordings that will be engaging and resonate with your audience.

A professional voice-over artist will be able to bring life to your message with the right tone, cadence, and conversational style. They will also be able to help you with the recording process, ensuring a seamless and professional-sounding final result. In addition, a professional voice-over artist will be able to provide you with valuable feedback and guidance.

Overall, using a professional voice-over artist is a great way to ensure your on-hold messages are of the highest quality. With their expertise and experience, they can help you create high-quality recordings that your callers will love!

7. Record an updated message

Modern technology provides businesses with the ability to update their on-hold messages easily and quickly. By recording an updated message, businesses can keep their customers informed and engaged with the latest news, offers, and product updates.

For businesses looking to stay ahead of the competition, recording an updated message can be an effective way to grab their customers’ attention. By changing the message regularly, businesses can keep their message fresh and timely, ensuring their customers stay engaged.

When recording an updated on-hold message, it is important to consider a few tips.

Keep the message brief and to the point. Customers don’t have time to listen to a lengthy message and may lose interest if the message is too long.

Ensure the message is clearly audible and free of static or other technical issues. If the message is not audible, customers may miss important details.

Consider providing a “call to action” within the message. It will help engage customers and encourage them to take advantage of your offers.

Make sure the message is appropriate and polite. Customers don’t appreciate being spoken to in an abrasive or rude tone. Instead, record a friendly and welcoming message that will make customers feel valued and comfortable.

Conclusion

On-hold messages can be an effective way to make customers feel engaged and informed while they wait for assistance. If you’re looking for assistance in designing your on-hold messages, Studio52 is here to help. Visit our website to learn more about our on-hold messaging services and let us help you create the perfect message that your customers will love.

#telephone hold messages #on hold messages for business #on hold message recording #message on hold companies #voice message service provider

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leclsrc · 1 year ago

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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

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izurou · 2 years ago

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STOP TELEPHONING ME FT. BLUE LOCK MEN

features: shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, mikage reo, itoshi sae, bachira meguru, and when someone calls you during sex.

contains: female reader. pro! blue lock charas. penetrative sex. oral sex. fingering. semi public for reo and bachira. a creampie from sae. brief filming in shidou’s. she and her pronouns used. you or him are on the phone in all of them so yeah !!

note: these are so long for hcs i am so sorry about that

SHIDOU RYUSEI

one of the sweetest things about ryusei, is that his camera roll is filled to the brim with you.

countless rows of what seems like every image of you ever—screenshots of your instagram stories, all those pictures you’ve sent with the message do i look ok attached, and of course—the dozens of photos he’s snapped of you himself.

sweet indeed—although, he’s still him, and so this habit of his isn’t all innocent admiration and good intentions. he has zero hesitation when it comes to filming you during sex—it’s a nasty side effect of his little obsession and, even nastier, he prefers leaving that type of media on your phone; sweet videos of him with his cock stuffed inside you.

so when he’s doing just that—using your device to record himself fucking you from behind, and the words can i help you suddenly leave his mouth—your heart nearly stops. did he really just? with a reluctant glance over your shoulder, you find him holding your phone up to his ear, grinning. he did.

“ryusei! what the fuck? who’s—” you attempt to scold him through an aggressive whisper, but get cut off by your own gasp when he pushes down on the side of your head—forcing your cheek flat against the mattress. he rolls his hips forwards with a breathy laugh, and you can’t help but melt into the cotton sheets and moan when he does so—being effortlessly tamed by the thickness of his cock.

“oh? you sure you wanna talk to her? she’s a little busy right now,” he sneers into the receiver, grin tripling in both size and arrogance when he looks down and sees your face—scrunched up in pure ecstasy as you fist the fabric on either side of your head. yeah, busy being all fucking his.

nevertheless, he thinks it’d be rude of him to not transfer the call over—this person went through the effort of dialling your number, after all.

so he tucks your phone between his shoulder and his ear, and uses both hands to pull you upright—flush against his chest. with his left hand latching onto your throat, and his right now holding your phone a couple inches from your ear, he purrs, “it’s for you, babydoll. wanna say hi?”

there’s a beat of silence, and then you hear it, a voice seething with anger—one that belongs to none other than your ex boyfriend. shit.

you’re holding your breath now—hoping that if you can remain silent, he’ll give up on his attempt to reach you altogether. a decent plan—but not for someone who’s currently dating the world’s biggest instigator. “c’monnnn, at least tell him how good your boyfriend’s fuckin’ you.”

he hums in content as his left hand travels south—between your tits and eventually, onto your clit. he uses his middle finger to rub tight circles, and with his cock still pressing kisses to your sensitive spots, with his tongue dancing across your neck—a whine slips out from between your lips.

and your ex hangs up—spewing a few unsavoury comments about your boyfriend before doing so.

“awwww, we were just getting to the best part,” ryusei whines, but he doesn’t stay down for long. “get ready to cum for me baby, and don’t fuckin’ hold back. we’re gonna leave him a voicemail.”

MICHAEL KAISER

when it comes to you, michael is both equal parts selfish and selfless.

he’s great at sharing. everything from his clothing to his habits—routines he’s stuck with for years, changed, because he wants his luxe life to be something you can experience with him.

like tonight, for instance—where a past version of himself would have returned home from practice, and immediately gotten into a hot bath to loosen his sore muscles. present him is in fact relaxing in a hot bath after a rather shit practice, but present him also has a pretty girl to help him wind down.

and while your boyfriend has no problem sharing with you, hell would freeze over before he’d share you. you’re his, and though he seldom allows his possessive behaviour to control him—it seems to linger on his shoulders nonetheless, particularly after a bad day.

you’re doing your best to lift his spirits—bouncing on his cock, pressing needy kisses along his inked neck—when your phone starts buzzing against the tiled ledge surrounding the tub. he knows you’ve been expecting an important call, but he doesn’t want you to stop—he’s not going to let you stop. even so, he’d be a pretty bad boyfriend if he ignored the call altogether, so he’ll answer it himself—seeing as you’re preoccupied.

“hello?” his voice is smooth, nonchalant—a little too much so. you still your movements, watching expectantly as michael’s gaze shift to yours. he smiles before continuing, as if he’s softening the impending blow. “an interview? sure, let me pass you to her.”

his eyes darken ever so slightly as he holds your phone out, mouthing the words take it.

you obey your boyfriend’s command with a little too much confidence—bringing the device up to your ear and barely managing a hello of your own before michael has you cupping a hand over your mouth with a sharp thrust of his hips. he doesn’t stop there either—grabbing onto your waist tight, more or less holding you still as he begins fucking into you at a steady pace.

“uh, i-i’m,” your mind goes blank as the voice of your potential employer rings in your ears with a simple question—what does your availability look like? michael is eavesdropping of course, sucking feverishly at the delicate skin on your neck as he strains to hear the conversation.

“monday through friday my love, isn’t that right?” he purrs into your opposite ear—handing you the answer on a silver platter. he wants you to get at least one response out before he inevitably, but indirectly ends the call. maybe it’s his sour mood tainting his train of thought, but the future where you have a job—is one where you have less time for him, less time for this. he doesn’t want that. “because you’re all mine on the weekends, aren’t you? such a precious girl, letting me fuck you like this. i don’t know what i’d do without you, baby.”

the words drip from his mouth like honey, sweet and genuine. it’s times like these that prove how scary love is, because in the heat of the moment—you’re convinced that you don’t really want this job, that all you want is to be his.

the water sloshes against the walls of the bathtub as you crumble onto his shoulder with a whine—phone silent and blank as it sits uselessly in your hand. michael runs his palms up and down your back in an attempt to soothe the upset he just assisted in—cock jumping when you sit up and pout at him.

“you’ll definitely get the next one, my love. in the meantime, this can be your full time job,” he grins—smug, but not insincere in the slightest. “you’re already a perfect fit.”

MIKAGE REO

reo, prim and proper at first glance—the perfect textbook gentleman, is anything but.

he has the courteous mannerisms down to a tee, all charming smiles and soft touches as he opens the door to his luxurious car—holding out a hand to help you inside. once you’re seated, he’ll do an adorable little jog over to the driver’s side because—keeping a pretty girl waiting just isn’t right.

his chivalry ends there though, because a parking lot is the perfect place for you to suck him off, he thinks.

and oh, how absolutely perfect you are—leaned over the centre console with your tongue swirling around his tip. he can’t help but pant a little as he lets his head fall back against the seat.

but his euphoria is short lived, because the sound of your ringtone fills his vehicle almost as quickly as it kills the mood—bluetoothed and displaying a name on the dashboard’s touch screen. seishiro. reo figures he’s only calling you to ask about him, but it’s awfully late, and while he has no reason to distrust his best friend—he finds himself curious, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation.

so, he taps his finger on the little green button.

“ynnn,” nagi’s voice emanates from the speakers—syllables drawn out and on the whinier side. you peer up at reo, and he’s looking down at you, eyes heavy with anticipation as he waits for a follow up. “are you with reo?”

your boyfriend visibly relaxes upon hearing that—and with his curiosity fed, he reaches forward to hang up, but—you swat his hand away.

“no, why? what’s up?” you hold eye contact with reo as you speak—ghosting your lips over his tip before licking up his shaft and taking him back into your mouth. you’re hoping that nagi will start to ramble, because if he does—reo will have to stay quiet, or at least attempt to.

and nagi happens to want an unreleased game, one that reo could pull a few strings and get his hands on if he wanted to—all things the voice on the other end is in the midst of explaining. he’s mere background noise though, because your attention is solely on reo and his cock.

you hold him near the base, using your hand to pump whatever your mouth can’t accommodate. reo shifts in his seat—biting down on the knuckle of his index finger as he goes one on one against the urge to buck up into your face, because that’d really conjure up a sinful sound.

and reo worries he might draw blood when you hum against him—sending vibrations throughout the length of his cock, and oh fuck, he’s so close. his brows knit together as he taps frantically on the screen—ending the call. he cums seconds later, head thrown back in pleasure as he groans and gasps through his orgasm.

“c’mere,” he breathes heavily—cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips onto yours for a messy kiss. “you wanna sit on it, sweetheart? we can head to the backseat.”

ITOSHI SAE

it might not seem like it, but there’s nowhere sae would rather be on his day off than here.

sitting on a small padded bench inside the private fitting room of a store, with you straddling his lap in a little floral mini dress. he figures that if he’s going to blow this much money on so little fabric, he might as well trial the garment’s true purpose—sex whenever and wherever he wants.

and now, as he watches you grind down onto the growing bulge in his pants—dress bunched up at your waist with one of the straps slipping off your shoulder, he can definitely see himself getting his money’s worth.

he’s just getting into it—running his hands over your ass and hips, tangling his fingers around the lace of your panties—when your phone starts to ring. at first, neither of you even acknowledge the sound, but it persists with a second call, and out of his peripherals—sae sees his manager’s name sitting the top of the screen. great, so much for your alone time.

“hello?” your voice is soft, and yet it still manages to catch your boyfriend off guard. during his brief sulk, you’ve not only answered the call, but put it on speaker as well. “is everything alright?”

the words i need to talk to sae come through, and you feel the breeze from his eye roll. you run your fingers through the hair at the back of sae’s head, pulling him a little closer as you continue to move your hips. he nuzzles into your neck soon after—eyes heavy as he watches your movements in the floor to ceiling mirror directly across from him.

“sorry, no can do. you know he needs the break,” you hum into the receiver, and you swear sae’s grip on you tightens. he loves it when you defend him like this—he thinks it’s hot.

so hot—he just can’t keep it in his pants anymore. he’s unbuttoning and unzipping—pushing fabric out of the way until his cock is springing free, and finally, he’s sinking into your cunt.

a breathy fuck falls from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall—staring up at you like you’re some kind of deity, which—in this dress, just might be true. his nails carve into your hips as he drags you along his shaft, and oh—it’s so easy for him to get carried away when you’re hugging him so tight.

“he’ll call you first—first thing in the morning.” you fumble over your words a little when the head of sae’s cock presses against a sensitive spot, but you get the response you wanted nonetheless—a that’s good thank you, and the call ends there.

a reward worthy performance, he thinks.

“oh god, sae,” you whine—and he buries his face back into the crook of your neck, recognizing the familiar knot unraveling just below his waist. his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he cums hard, breathing heavy against your skin as he watches the mirror’s reflection through hooded lids—staring intently as white starts to leak out of you, and down the side of his cock.

“careful, you’re gonna ruin the dress,” he mutters—knowing full well that the sticky mess is all him. “guess i have to buy it now, huh?”

BACHIRA MEGURU

meguru’s fatal flaw is his attention span, or rather—his lack thereof.

the dinner reservation was at seven—a table for four. you, him, and two representatives from a sports brand that’s interested in sponsoring him.

it’s a few minutes past the hour, and the other duo is evidently running a little late—no big deal, but your boyfriend thinks otherwise. he’s sitting with his chin in his palm, twirling a straw around his fingers, and crumbling under the weight of his boredom. unfortunately, you don’t think this is an establishment that’d have a colouring page and some crayons for him, but not to worry—he’s just found something else to entertain himself.

“meguru, behave,” you shoot him a glance as he scoots closer—hearing him mutter a yes ma’am, but still feeling his hand beneath your skirt a few seconds later. he brushes his middle finger over the thin fabric of your panties—gently rubbing over your clit before he begins tracing what you think are hearts onto your cunt.

your gaze floods with desire—a look that meguru knows well, and loves dearly. he’s getting excited now, tail wagging with delight, because he knows that you’ll let him continue—so long as he doesn’t make it obvious to anyone in the room.

this means that, when one of the representatives suddenly starts calling you, he technically doesn’t have to behave.

“hello?” you bring your phone up to your ear, and at the same time—meguru’s hand slips past the waistband of your panties. he sighs in content—slouching back in his seat and lolling his head to the side. you’d almost think he was the one being touched. “w-what? you can’t find it?”

ah, so you’re saying they’re lost—which loosely translates to you have more time to play. good.

using his index and ring finger to spread you open—he sinks his middle into your warm cunt, curling it upwards and moving his hand side to side a bit. meanwhile, the voice on the other line is begging for directions, and you’re struggling to give them.

you lean into meguru’s side and hold his wrist—not to stop his movements, but to limit them, at least until you manage to get off the phone. but your boyfriend—sweet as pie and smart when it’s convenient for him, presses a kiss to your temple, and decides that he’ll take care of it for you.

“look for the big arena tour billboard, we’re right below that. see you soon,” he leans in and hums happily into your phone, and the rep thanks him before hanging up. with time now running out, he brings all three of his fingers up to your clit, where he rubs tight circles. “mmm, i don’t wanna stop, baby. wanna make you cum.”

“megs, that’s them!” you squeak—spotting two well dressed, important looking people scurrying past a window on the opposite side of the room. you claw at meguru’s wrist—but his fingers stay glued to your clit for as long as possible, and he ends up pulling away mere seconds before they round the corner.

he’s all innocent smiles and waves as the two approach the table—not so subtly licking up the side of his middle finger, which—wouldn’t be so awful if there were more than just drinks on your table. either way, it’s swept under the rug, and the four of you begin introducing yourselves while looking over the menu.

and your phone is on silent at this point, but it lights up with one new message from meguru.

bathroom in 5? <3 i know what i wanna eat ;)

#izurou #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock hcs #shidou x reader #shidou smut #kaiser x reader #kaiser smut #reo x reader #reo smut #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae smut #bachira x reader #bachira smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x you

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ukiiyostar · 9 months ago

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hey while on the subject of Welcome Home, I'd like to talk about something I found interesting (tl;dr at the bottom)

so the team uncovered a toy telephone, one of those where you can dial the characters and they give you a pre-recorded answer, right?? But the thing about these pre-recorded messages is that they're supposed to reply to the kid, no matter what they're saying or if they're saying anything it at all, y'know? So it is incredibly interesting that the messages shown are that of the characters responding to silence.

the person on the phone says nothing, and the characters, upon hearing nothing, respond with "hello? hello are you there"s like any other person; they start talking as their character and when it becomes clear the person on our line isn't going to respond, they end the call

And here's where it gets more interesting, and it has everything to do with Eddie Dear

So you see, all the characters have different responses to the silent call before leaving: Barnaby tells a joke, Julie invents a game, Poppy thinks she might've broken the phone and tries to fix it (unsuccessfully), and Sally assumes they have stage-fright, just to name a few examples.

But then you hear Eddie's call

He starts off with the post office jingle and when no one answers, he tries singing the jingle again, this time a longer version and he quickly runs out of breath

It is then that he thinks to himself "maybe there's no one there"

He is the ONLY CHARACTER in the cast that even CONSIDERS this; and seconds later he is the ONLY ONE that begins to QUESTION the NATURE OF THIS CALL

LOOK AT HIS DIALOGUE

DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE????

The other characters assume it's a prank call or some other excuse, but Eddie is the only one who wonders; the only one who begins to contemplate like "wait, why am in a call anyway?"

add this to other Eddie events like the santa commercial and homewarming...

I think he's actually waking up. hell, who's to say he isn't already awake? and this only makes me scared of what will happen to him.

speaking of which, I read another theory earlier that said that perhaps the reason this is all happening to him is that the Playfellow Workshop was planning on removing him from the show because they felt he was "insignificant" or simply didn't add anything other than being the mailman, and they slowly started removing his presence from the media (the way he's skipped on the santa's toys commercial thing and that other episode when wally and Barnaby go around asking everyone EXCEPT Eddie what homewarming is) until they could get rid of him completely.

what do you guys think?

tl;dr = looking at the toy phone responses, it's weird that they have a line replying to silence seeing as that's not the point of the toy, and also it's weird that Eddie Dear is the only character who, out of all the other responses, is the only one to acknowledge the odd nature of the call. my theory is that Eddie might be the next (assuming Wally and/or Home to be the first ones self-aware) to wake up from the puppet illusion, paired with another theory that the company was trying to remove Eddie from the show

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home theory #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #poppy partridge #sally starlet #howdy pillar #welcome home home #eddie dear theory #poor eddie

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florestalio · 2 days ago

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HUMAN, OR NOT? — P.SH

GENRE: that's not my neighbour au, dystopian au, doppelganger au

SYNOPSIS: finding a job in the current state of the world was a hassle, but given your skills, it wasn't hard to find a decently paying job as a doorman. your job is to distinguish the doppelgangers from the real humans. simple enough, right? right?

WARNINGS: (6.9k words) MDNI, noncon/dubcon, mentions of killing, blood, guns, unprotected sex (please don't), big huge dick!sungho, monster fucking, meandom!sungho, implied munch!sungho, nicknames (slut, doll, princess, etc.), dacryphilia, fingering, manhandling, bondage, lot of slick (an almost concerning amount), marking (hickeys), cum eating (not oral), missionary, mating press, bulge kink, degradation, praise, possessive!sungho, let me know if I missed any!

NOTE, i'm well aware that a similar fic has already been published by a different author, but mine was almost completely inspired by this video, so it's extremely different from the fic that had already been posted. this is a revamp of this enha fic.

IN A WORLD WHICH WAS SLOWLY, but steadily getting overtaken by doppelgangers, finding a job is one of the hardest tasks — even if a lot of new jobs have been created for this purpose.

‘Doorman’, a post that was one of the more frowned upon jobs with a very low salary, had now become one of the most high paying jobs — since it was their skills and abilities that would determine whether the people in an apartment or complex lived or not. The job sounded fairly simple — figure out if the person wanting to enter is a human or a convincing doppelganger. Let only the humans in, get rid of the doppelgangers with the help of the D.D.D — another job created for the purpose of eradication of the doppelgangers from the world.

While the job of doormen did sound simple, it obviously wasn't that easy. Doppelgangers could be very convincing, their morphing abilities weren't a matter of joke. But, no matter how human they seemed, at the end of the day, they weren't human.

While detecting them could be very hard, doppelgangers… aren't the smartest tool in the shed. They always have some kind of imperfections, no matter how minor, in their appearances, in the way they behave — and many more. This is where doormen step in. They are skilled people with extremely sharp observation skills, which they use to figure out these imposters, and thus save the lives of a lot more people than they think they do.

You were one of these people with sharp observation skills that got chosen as a doorman of an apartment complex, situated near the suburbs. While you weren't getting a salary as high as the skies, it was still pretty high, considering that people from remote locations were impersonated a lot more than people from the cities, as these people are easier targets than them.

According to your job description, the old doorman was taking a long, well-deserved vacation. You were supposed to replace him for as long as he was on vacation, after which, you had no idea what would happen. Would your job be gone? Were you going to keep your job? Would you work alongside the old doorman? So many questions, yet they all remained unanswered.

You shook off those thoughts, focusing on the present. You looked around your new office, trying to make yourself familiar with your surroundings. Everything you needed as a doorman seemed to be exactly where you needed it; a telephone, checklists to grant entries, an entry list, records of all the people that lived in the building, their phone numbers, the D.D.D phone number, and whatnot. There was even an emergency button on the wall, which was attached with a metal partition that covered the window in front of the desk when activated.

The presence of all these faculties just made your work a lot easier. You took a seat, right in front of the desk. As soon as you sat down, the phone rang. You picked it up, only to hear a recorded message from the previous doorman. Turns out, his name was Taesan, and he had recorded it for you to listen to, since he didn’t wish for any mishaps to happen to you. As thoughtful as he was, he was also extremely repetitive. After several ‘do not let them in’-s, did the recording finally end, making you breathe out a sigh of relief.

Now comes the tough part. Doing your job.

IT WAS A QUARTER TO MIDNIGHT. After a hard day’s work of letting in the actual residents and calling the D.D.D upon the impersonators, the entry list had only two more people left. Namely, a businessman by the name of ‘Myung Jaehyun’ who lived alone in the third room on the first floor, and ‘Park Sungho’, the milkman who lived alone in the second room of the third floor.

Over the course of the day, you had seen doppelgangers of all kinds, some a lot better at impersonating than the other. There were several times when you had almost missed a sudden flash of an extra pair of arms, or different eye colors — as impressed as you were, you had immediately called the D.D.D on them.

Sometimes the doppelgangers looked completely, utterly, perfect copies of the person they were impersonating. Had it not been for a slight difference in their ID’s or entry requests, you would have probably let them in.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps alerted you. As you looked up, you were met with the face of Jaehyun. He gave you a half smile. “Sorry for bothering you this late, a client of mine was giving me a lot of trouble. Honestly, how is it my fault that the delivery was being delayed? Do they not realize that in the present situation, it is hard to navigate through the innumerous doppelgangers that are just waiting to pounce at any given moment of the day? It's truly very inconsiderate of–”

You interrupted his rambling. “Sir I require your ID in order to let you in. As you mentioned, it is already extremely late, so please, let’s not delay this any further.” You felt a little guilty for how you were acting towards him, but his rambling was taking up too much of your precious time.

His eyes immediately widened, before he started rummaging in his pockets. “Right — I'm really sorry, I'm not sure why I started to rant to you — here's my ID–”

You took a close look at the ID, trying to find any kind of faults in it. You heard him start to rant again. “—and honestly it was such a lovely day too, but this stupidly inconsiderate client had to ruin it.” You looked up at him, watching him continue to rant about the most random topics, which… didn’t really make any sense. “—so many ice cream trucks, but all of them had crashed into each other. The amount of people going up to those and stealing ice creams from them was actually insane–”

Suddenly you noticed something amiss on his face, protruding from his hat. Without missing a beat, you asked him. “Sir, what's that on your face?”

Jaehyun immediately stopped his rambling. “My face? Wh– What’s wrong with it? It– It's just a normal face!–”

Your hand started to creep towards the emergency button. “There are tiny hands on your face.”

Jaehyun panicked, watching you reach towards the emergency button. “Wait!– I have an explanation for this — see I was talking to this little girl called Rei right? So I called out to her ‘Hey Rei! Can you give me a hand with this?’ and she came and put her hands on my face! No wait don't–”

It was too late. You had already pushed the emergency button, watching the metal partition fall into place, blocking your view of him. You could hear the doppelganger wailing about how it was ‘a perfect disguise’. You quickly contacted the D.D.D, letting them know of the situation. Within five minutes you heard them arrive, screams of ‘get away from the door you filthy animal!’ and ‘but I don't wanna’ filled up the air, along with the sounds of guns going off, before it all went silent.

The partition suddenly went up again, a bloodied yellow hazmat suit with the D.D.D logo coming into your view. The person in the suit spoke. “Cleaning protocol has been completed. Please feel free to carry on with your job.”

You whispered a small thanks, watching them leave. It was almost midnight now, and you still had to let in two more of the apartment’s residents. It almost annoyed you, but this was in your job description when you had applied for it, so you had to suck it up.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps reached your ears again, along with a voice. “God, I'm so sorry for coming this late, Taesan, I swear I'll come earlier next time–” The voice stopped short, and so did your breath.

Good fucking gracious. You did look at the profiles of all the residents in the building, but none of them looked as good as Sungho did up close.

Sungho, a milkman by profession, was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Even with his tired eyes and exhausted appearance in general, he looked so fucking… ravishing.

He cleared his throat. “I'm so sorry, it's usually Taesan who sits here — are you new?”

You nodded, licking your lips nervously. “Yeah I am… Taesan went for a vacation, a long one apparently, so I'm here to replace him for the time being.”

He nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. Good thing he went for a vacation, god knows he needed one. We all need one, given the state of the world at present — how are you liking it at the new job? Is it giving you too much trouble?”

You shook your head. “Oh no, not at all — there were a lot of posers, but I handled them just fine. I think I'll be alright.”

“That's good. Oh, I remember my first experience with a doppelganger — it was almost terrifying. See, there was this — this woman, who lived here and… it was a very convincing disguise. The only thing wrong with her was that… there was a mole on her right cheek, except that it was supposed to be on the left side. When the D.D.D was called on her, she… kept screaming and screaming — all that just… it takes a toll on you. Not being able to recognise them, that is.”

You gulped, barely hearing what he was saying, too focused on the movement of his lips. “Yea… that's — yea, it's scary.”

He offered you a half smile. “It is. But what you're doing is important. You're saving a lot of lives this way, and that is all that matters. That's what is important.”

“Thank you — I appreciate that, I truly do.”

“You're welcome. I may not know you personally yet, but I can tell that you're an honest person. People like you… they tend to overthink these things. So always remember that… what you're doing is great. These doppelgangers are evil, and they deserve what they are getting.”

You gave him a grateful smile, once again thanking him for his kind words. He gave you one back. “Not a big deal… princess. Here's my ID… and my entry request.”

As you took his ID and his entry request, you froze, suddenly aware of the nickname that he used to refer to you. “P-Princess?–”

Sungho had a tiny smirk on his face this time. “Yea? Do you not like the nickname? I can stop–”

You were quick to deny it. “No I didn't mean — uhm — I do like it…”

An amused glint was present in his eye. “I see. So… are my documents in order, princess?”

You nodded, feeling heat creep up on your cheeks. “Yep, all good.” A sudden idea struck you. “Actually wait… there is something wrong.”

His smile vanished. “What?– Something's wrong?”

You nodded. “Yea… with your face.”

He raised a shaky hand to touch his face, something you missed. “M– My face? What's wrong with it?”

You smiled at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement. With as much cheesiness as you could muster in your voice, you replied. “Yea, it's called ‘handsomeness’.” You immediately cringed at yourself. What kind of a pathetic attempt at flirting was that?

However, it seemed to sway Sungho. He immediately blinked, before letting out a relieved grin, a faint blush coating his cheeks. “Oh?– You got me there. Thank you — you're extremely gorgeous too.”

Now it was your turn to feel shy. Your cheeks were aflame, heat creeping up your neck. Were you seriously flirting instead of doing your job? This late at night?

You shyly smiled at him, thanking him. He gave you another smile back, this one seeming a lot more cocky than the last. “Can I go now, pretty girl? Or do you have more tricks up your sleeve?”

You giggled a little, pressing the green button to let him in. “Nope! Go right in.”

He gave you a small smirk, tipping his hat towards you in the same manner a cowboy would, before disappearing through the door.

Around three minutes after Sungho went in, the sound of footsteps reached your ears again, only this time, it wasn’t exactly the sound of a person walking. It sounded like someone was running. Fast.

You heard the sound of panting, before… Sungho came into view. Only this time, he had blood all over him.

This was obviously a doppelganger, but before you could reach for the emergency button, the fake Sungho spoke. “Oh my fucking god — hey I’m guessing you’re new? Listen, this is really important. Did you see… me earlier?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. This was a new strategy. No doppelganger had used a strategy quite like this one earlier today. “Uh-huh.”

He banged on the glass partition with his fist, making you flinch. His eyes looked crazier than before. “I’m not playing around here. Did you or did you not see me earlier?”

Your hand quickly went to the emergency button. Noticing that, he started panicking. “No no no — don’t press that, just listen to me. I was knocked out — he stole my keys! — everything, he stole everything… even my face! Please tell me you didn’t let him in.”

Your hand hovered over the button, his words making you hesitate from pushing it. “I did let him in…”

His eyes widened. “Oh fuck — this is bad, this is bad, this is bad — listen, you have to call the D.D.D — right now. Do it! Call them right now!”

You gazed at him, conflicted. He sounded so… convincing. But so did the first Sungho. Which one of them was telling the truth?

You almost wanted to scoff at yourself. You were supposed to have some top tier observation skills to be able to figure out who is a doppelganger and who is not. So why was it so hard for you to tell in this case?

You didn’t even realize when your hand fell on the button, pressing it by accident. As the alarm bells sounded and the metal barrier began to fall, several shouts of ‘No!’ could be heard from the outside. You sat there rigidly, not even aware of when the door to your office opened, the person on the other side of the door slipping inside. It wasn’t until he put a hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch, when you realized that Sungho, the first one, was inside.

You relaxed for a moment, before he bent down, whispering in your ear, causing you to freeze. “You did a good job princess. Such a good job. Now continue to be a good girl and sit here quietly like a good fucking girl would, yea?”

As he spoke, the realization dawned upon you, the cold dread that came with it washing over you like a bucket of ice. The second Sungho was the real one.

As you sat there frozen, Sungho — or rather, the doppelganger — called up the D.D.D, informing them of a ‘doppelganger’ situation. Within five minutes, they had arrived, screams and sounds of gunshots once again filling up the air. Once they stopped, the metal partition opened, once again revealing a yellow hazmat suit stained with blood.

The D.D.D agent recited the same words that it did everytime, before walking away. As soon as the D.D.D had evacuated the building, ‘Sungho’ clicked the emergency button again, quickly pressing another button to deactivate the alarm bells, so that only the metal partition fell down. He gripped the handles of your chair, spinning it to make you face him. You gulped as you faced him, the sinister smirk on his face filled you up with a fear so intense, that it gripped you in an almost vice-like grip. It was terrifying — he was terrifying.

His eyes raked over you, drinking in your fearful expression. The shaking of your body, the pleading in your eyes, the nervous gulping — all of it filled him up with a foreign emotion — an emotion that made him want to devour you whole.

He lifted up a hand to your face, holding your chin between his fingers, leaning your face upwards. He himself leaned down, stopping just a breath away from your lips, causing your own breath to hitch. Whether it was from fear, or anticipation, he didn't know — not that it would change anything.

He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, maintaining eye contact with you. “Are you surprised? That I'm not who you thought I was?”

You gulped, too afraid to speak. Although the shaking of your eyes told him what he wanted to know.

He smirked lightly. “Does it make you feel angry? To know that you have been finally bested by a — what do you humans call us again? Ah, a ‘doppelganger’.”

‘Anger’ was the last thing you felt. Fear was all you felt — fear for both yourself, and everyone else whose life you had endangered. You were absolutely terrified, dreading your fate.

You had seen pictures of the real form of the doppelgangers — albeit just drawings; derivations from people who somehow lived to tell the tale. They were described to be completely monstrous, with yellow eyes and sharp teeth, greenish skin and huge claws that could easily rip anyone to shreds. It was only natural for you to feel terrified of your fate. Were you going to be torn to shreds by him? Or was he going to eat you? Do doppelgangers actually eat humans?

Turns out, he did plan on eating you. Devouring you actually. Just… not in the way you thought.

He traced his lip with his tongue, practically undressing you with his eyes. He was going to fucking ruin you.

He traced your lip with his thumb, forcing your mouth open. He pressed his thumb down on your tongue, watching the tears gather at your waterline and the saliva on your tongue. You were already so much fun to play with.

You wanted to cry, scream — anything to get out of this situation. You weren't trained for something like this — all the instructors just said “Catch them, or they catch you. If you're caught, consider yourself dead.” None of them ever prepared you for a situation like this.

You needed to use your own tactics, and you needed to use them fast. You stared at his eyes, trying to make sure your facial expressions didn't give away your thoughts, when suddenly, a brilliant — okay, not brilliant, but still better than nothing — idea struck you.

Your eyes suddenly fell on the door, your eyes widening slightly with a glimmer of hope. He frowned at your expression, looking backwards at the door as well, taking the bait.

You immediately pushed him off you, catching him off-guard, before quickly running to the door. But just as you were about to reach for the handle, you felt him grab your shoulder from behind, pulling you backwards in a not-so-gentle manner. He shoved you to the floor unceremoniously, causing you to scream from the impact — not that anyone would hear you, since the walls were soundproof as long as the metal partition was pulled down, and you had no way to reach the button to deactivate it.

You tried to get up, but were immediately shoved back down to the ground, with him climbing up on top of you, pinning your arms above your head. If looks could kill, you would have already been six feet under by now.

For a moment he just glared down at you, your lips quivering, your eyes shaking with unshed tears. Your chest was rising up and down erratically, downright terrified with what he was planning on doing to you. Was he going to strangle you to death? Tear you apart by hand? Break your neck? Or was he going to–

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by him. His voice was cold with a sinister undertone. “You know princess, I was going to be nice to you — go nice and slow, appreciate everything about you, take my time with you, make it memorable for you. But after this little stunt that you just pulled? I don't think you deserve kindness. If you want to be a fucking brat, acting like you weren't ready to spread your legs open for me just ten minutes ago, then I'm going to fucking treat you like one.”

Your blood ran cold. He was going to what?

You couldn't even understand where he was coming from. You were ‘acting like a brat’? Was trying to run in order to save your life a crime now? You were getting ready to ‘spread your legs for him just ten minutes ago’? First of all, it was some harmless flirting with a nice guy who you thought was human, not a fucking monster. So what the fuck was he even trying to say?

None of it mattered now — not now, when he was sliding the belt that was just there for design purposes through the hoops in your skirt. It didn't matter now, when he started to tie the belt around your wrists, ignorant to your struggles to break free. Not now, when he was grabbing the ends of your shirt, roughly shoving it up.

He couldn't shove it off you, since your hands were tied, so he proceeded to tear it off with his hands. It was an expensive shirt, but there wasn't any time to mourn the loss of your shirt — not when his hands had already moved to your skirt. He didn't even bother trying to get it off this time, simply ripping it apart like paper.

The tears finally broke free. This was it. This was your fate. You were going to get used like some pathetic doll by some monster and then tossed away once you were useless. Even death would have been a kinder fate than this.

You screwed your eyes shut when you felt him touch you over your panties, disgusted by yourself when you realized that you were, in fact, wet. You heard him let out a menacing chuckle, causing more tears to fall from your shut eyes. You felt his finger just barely trace over your covered cunt, making you squirm. He was quick to hold your legs down, before shoving a finger through your panties, causing it to stick inside your wet folds, drenching it further. You felt him leaning down towards your core, a whimper of utter despair leaving you.

He ignored you, taking a whiff of your scent. As soon as it hit him, he let out a loud groan, a quiet ‘fuck’ accompanying it. He definitely needed to eat you out, but first, he needed to stretch you out.

He gripped the waistband of your panties tightly, before ripping it off. The sound of the cotton material tearing brought a fresh batch of tears to your eyes. “P-Please — don’t do this, please–”

He quickly interrupted you by grabbing your throat, applying just enough pressure to cut off your oxygen. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t get to decide what I’ll do or not do. I gave you a chance, didn’t I? I was nice to you initially, wasn’t I? You clearly took advantage of that and tried to run, so why the fuck would I listen to you? If you don’t want to make matters worse for yourself, take what I give you like a good little slut would.”

That ruined whatever tiny hope you had of avoiding this fate. More tears fell from your eyes, causing you to bite down on your lip to conceal your sobs. For some reason, the sight of you biting your lip, paired with your tears, turned him on a lot more than it should have, causing him to grab your chin tightly.

Your eyes flew open in shock, releasing your lip from the abuse from your teeth. His eyes landed on your swollen lips, his pants growing tighter and tighter by the second. Before you could register what was happening, he smashed his lips on yours, swallowing your surprised gasp. He kissed you harshly, his movements sloppy. Saliva dripped past your mouths, smearing onto your chins, but he could care less.

He bit down on your lip, pulling it slightly with his teeth, causing a whimper to leave you involuntarily. He let out a quiet groan at the sound, before diving back inside your mouth, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He hungrily explored your wet cavern, his hands moving to take his shirt off, the heat radiating off the two of you becoming unbearable. He grabbed your jaw tightly, tilting your head to kiss you deeper, his legs planted on either side of you.

Even if you didn’t want to enjoy it, any of it, your body couldn’t hide its true reaction. You kept letting out whimpers and moans, squirming under him. He gladly swallowed each and every sound of yours, little grunts and groans of his own leaving him. He badly wanted to grind down on you, but he had enough self control to not do that. Instead, he slid a hand down, collected the slick that kept gushing out on his fingers, before shoving his middle finger inside.

Your reaction was immediate. You let out a sharp gasp into his mouth, your hips bucking up into his. He bit down your lip at your reaction, breaking the skin and drawing out blood. He plunged his finger in deeper, feeling even more slick gushing out of you. He sucked the blood off your lip, licking the cut, moaning at the taste. Your blood ignited a fire inside him, the heat spreading to every part of him, the need to completely, utterly, ruin you for everyone else spreading to his finger tips, taking over his brain. He thrust his finger impossibly deeper, before pulling it out, causing you to let out a desperate whine into his mouth, one that was quickly replaced by a shocked moan when he plunged in two fingers at once.

You could feel your cunt stretching to accommodate his fingers, which were long and slender, allowing him to reach parts of you that no one ever did. His fingers dragged across your walls, allowing you to feel every inch of them. His fingers hit every ridge and bump perfectly, making you clench around them tightly.

He felt your pussy walls hugging his fingers, causing him to fasten up the pace of both his fingers and his mouth, swallowing up your whimpers, listening to the wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your cunt.

He curled up his fingers, feeling your entire body shake under him. He let out a victorious smirk against your lips, having finally found your spot. He increased the pace of his fingers, making sure to curl up his fingers every time, hitting that spongy part in your walls every time with ease.

Your breathing sped up, your whimpers increasing, your wrists becoming red from how much you were struggling to get out of the tight grip of your belt wrapped around them. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter, yet being so far from the edge. Something was missing, something that you desperately needed to finally teeter off the edge.

Even if you couldn’t understand what exactly you needed, ‘Sungho’ sure did. He broke the kiss, taking in the sight of your bruised and swollen lips, before shifting his attention to your neck, immediately latching his lips on your pulse point, sucking on it harshly. He pumped his fingers into your pussy faster, his thumb moving to rub at your clit harshly. You almost screamed at the added pleasure, your walls clamping down on his fingers in a vice-like grip.

Within seconds your pussy started to convulse around his fingers. Your release gushed out of you in huge amounts, coating his fingers in a creamy white. He helped you ride out your high, shallowly pumping his fingers in you. He stopped sucking on your neck, looking at the newly formed purplish hickey on it proudly. Once you came down from your high, he slipped his fingers out with a wet ‘pop’, watching your walls flutter around nothing.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, slipping them inside, tasting your release. You watched him with hooded eyes, your chest rising up and down slowly as you tried to catch your breath. His eyes screwed shut when the taste hit him, a deep groan leaving him, one that traveled straight to your core, despite having just had one of the best orgasms of your life.

He opened his eyes, his gaze darker than before, making you gulp. He leaned down again, maintaining eye contact with you. He ran a hand through your hair, before gripping it tightly, ripping a whimper out of you. He bit his lips, whispering “God, you drive me fucking crazy” before smashing his lips onto yours. He shoved his tongue inside your mouth almost immediately, making you taste yourself.

Fuck, he would be lying if he said he wasn't dying to eat you out, but the problem in his pants would probably kill him before he had his fill of you — which was why he was furiously trying to get his stupid belt off, something which proved to be quite a challenge for no apparent reason.

When he finally managed to get it off, he threw it away somewhere in the room, out of reach. His shirt was sticking to his skin uncomfortably from how much he was sweating, so obviously that had to go too. Once it was off, he quickly shimmied out of his pants, his boxers quickly following them.

As soon as his boxers were off, his bare cock slapped on his stomach, standing tall and proud. His mushroom tip was an angry shade of red, leaking a generous amount of precum. He was both long and girthy, almost ridiculously so, making you a little concerned about the stretch — or if it would at all fit.

Of course you were anticipating it — how could you not? Yes, he was taking you without consent, but did that really matter anymore? Your morals were thrown out of the window the moment he shoved his pretty fingers into your hole. You couldn't help how much you were leaking for him then, and you certainly can't help it now. You were practically gushing down there, a puddle of your sweet slick starting to form in between your thighs. God, it was a miracle that he hadn't started eating you out like a starved man eating his first meal in days. But then again, he also couldn't wait to finally sink into your wet heat, and fuck you till all you could think about was his dick.

So that's what he did. He spread your legs further apart with his knees, settling down between them. He aligned himself with your entrance, but instead of directly pushing in, he decided to toy with you a little. After all, you were just a toy for him, weren't you? The perfect little toy — a doll if you will — for him to use, break, destroy and dispose of as he wishes.

A little whine from you caught his ears. He looked at your face, almost taken aback by your expression. Your eyes were hooded, lips swollen and glistening from your sweat — possibly a result of you biting down on them. Were you… enjoying this? Did you want this?

It was hot, so undeniably hot of you to like this — not just your body, but you. There was no fucking way he was ever going to let go of you now — no, you were too perfect to lose.

He swallowed thickly, trying his best to subdue his desire of immediately plunging inside you and railing you into your next life. No, he had to be patient, in order to make it fun for him.

He tapped the head of his cock on your clit, watching even more slick pour out of you, joining the puddle on the floor. It was truly magnificent how much your body craved this — how much you craved it — almost as much as he did.

He rubbed his tip over your slit, gathering the slick from it, ripping out pitiful whimpers from you. He almost caved in to your sinful sounds — almost — before continuing to gather your slick on his mushroom tip.

He watched as your slick and his precum mixed together, forming a beautiful white mixture, something that looked almost delicious — of course he had to taste it, and make you taste it as well. You would like it anyways.

He gathered some of the mixture on his fingers, before popping them in his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the sinful taste. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see how much the taste affected his body, even more precum having dribbled out of his tip, falling into the puddle of your slick.

He swirled his finger in the mixture, before bringing it to your own mouth. He watched as you eagerly wrapped your lips around his digits, sucking the mixture of your wants greedily. He let out a groan, wondering if you would suck his cock the same way. But he had plenty of time to find that out later.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’, ignoring your whine. He pushed his hand into the puddle of your slick, before wrapping the same hand around his ridiculously large dick, slowly pumping it. His eyes were dark as he maintained eye contact with you, taking in the way you gulped slowly. It was so cute, the way you wanted it as much as he did, and yet were afraid of it actually happening.

If he stared at your cute little lips or your pretty little eyes that were filled with both hesitation and desperation, he would definitely cum even before he had the chance to be inside your — by the looks of it, extremely tight walls.

He grabbed your legs again, spreading them even further apart, before slowly starting to push into you. He was immediately met with a lot of resistance from you, loud gasps and whimpers falling from your lips in a beautiful melody, your pussy walls clamping down tightly on his tip alone. He hissed at the pressure, gripping your hips tightly as he slowly started to push in.

The sounds of your whimpers and choked gasps increased two-fold, your walls stretching to an alarming extent as they tried to fit him. You were well aware that the ‘Sungho’ that was fucking you wasn't the real one, that he was a monster — but you didn't realise that doppelgangers were this hung. He was big, huge even — way bigger than the average dick size. It felt like he was splitting apart your insides, but you couldn't deny the enormous amount of pleasure that accompanied the pain.

He had to suck in a breath when he had finally buried himself to the hilt inside you, your walls clamping down on him painfully. It almost felt like he willingly buried himself into a dick guillotine, that’s how tight you felt around him. It wasn’t like he could blame you either — he wasn’t human, even if he was impersonating one, all of his physical features were obviously not perfect. As for him, his imperfection happened to be his dick, which was way larger than the average human dick, almost monstrously so — not that he was complaining… and he knew you wouldn’t be either in a while, once you got used to his size.

His grip on your hips was tight enough to bruise, as he slowly pulled out almost completely, leaving only his tip inside, making you let out a sigh of relief. But that relief was short lived, because he almost immediately slammed himself back in, knocking the air out of you. It felt as if he somehow managed to fit another non-existent inch inside of you.

The squelching sound from the slide however, encouraged him to continue. You were liking it, he knew you were. That’s why you were getting even wetter than before, weren’t you? Yep, that was it. That was why your walls were clamping down on him so tightly. Your body didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want him to stop.

He pulled out almost completely again, before ruthlessly slamming right back in, ripping a scream out of you. But the slick that kept pouring out of you, past his cock, told him all that he needed to know. He thrusted into you mercilessly, without caring about how you felt — he knew you liked it, he was sure of it–

Your loud whimpers of pain broke him out of his daze. “P– Please, it h– hurts so much–”

His hand grabbed your neck, squeezing down on it as a warning. “Don’t fucking lie to me — you’re leaking past my cock, and you expect me to believe that you aren’t enjoying this? Stupid, fucking slut, lying to me to my face? Absolutely pathetic.”

He grabbed both of your thighs, pushing them up to your chest, before starting to thrust into you again, the ruthless pace of his hips almost bruising your thighs. The new angle allowed him to hit even deeper, your cries of pain only increasing in volume. He ignored them, focusing on how his hips snapped into yours with every thrust. “Fucking take it — you know you like this, you fucking painslut. It hurts, does it? How adorable, you fucking love it, you know you do.”

He continued to ram his hips into yours, uncaring of your discomfort — unbeknownst to you, your cries only caused him to grow harder, his cock bulging through your stomach. The bulge on your stomach appearing and disappearing inside you caught his attention, causing him to groan. He fisted your hair tightly in his hand, pulling you up. “Look at that, princess, look at it — look at how I keep disappearing inside you. Fucking perfect for me, aren’t you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, continuing to slam his hips into yours. He let go of your hair, pressing down on the bulge in your stomach instead. The added pressure caused him to groan, his pace increasing. Your slick made it easy for him to pound into you, your cries having started to turn into loud moans. He found it almost cute, your switch up.

He pushed your thighs up higher against your chest, his hips snapping painfully into yours, balls slapping on your ass with every thrust. It felt so fucking wrong, but even you couldn’t deny how good it felt. “I’m gonna fill you up, till my cum is dripping past your legs — gonna make you walk around like that. You would love that, wouldn’t you? Walking around with my cum dripping down your legs like a fucking slut?”

If the way you clenched around him at his words wasn’t a dead giveaway to whether you liked what he was doing or not, then he didn’t know what else could possibly be it. He increased his pace. “Yea? You like that? You want that? You’re my precious little cumslut, aren’t you? My sweet little doll, so eager to be filled up to the brim.”

He brought a hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly. The added pleasure sent shockwaves to your brain, your back arching, eyes rolling back. You could feel the coil in your stomach continue to tighten, the harsh pace of his assault on your clit only making the coil tighter and tighter.

He suddenly pinched your clit harshly, the sudden sensation causing you to let out a choked gasp. The coil in your stomach finally snapped, causing you to gush around him. He groaned at the feeling, your walls clamping around him, triggering his own release. He buried himself deep inside you, spurts of cum sprouting from him, slowly filling her up to the brim. He gripped your hips tightly. “Take it, take all of it, fucking take it — you’re mine to fuck, mine to breed, no matter when I see fit. So fucking take it–”

He kept on and on cumming, your walls clamping around him, milking him dry. He hissed, pulling out his softening length. It was so hot, the way his cum dripped out of your hole. It was the perfect time to eat you out, but that had to wait.

He grabbed your hands, finally undoing the belt on them. As soon as you were free from the restraints, you tried to flex your wrists, to fix the blood flow. He smirked at your antics. He grabbed your chin tightly, making you face him. “Listen up sweetheart — from now onwards, you do what I say. If I tell you to stay, you will stay. If I tell you to sit and look pretty, you will sit and look pretty. Got it?”

You gulped thickly. You were absolutely terrified of him. Why shouldn’t you be? Given what he had done to you, you would have no other choice but to obey him.

So you nodded. Albeit hesitantly.

He wrapped his arms around her “Good girl — my good girl”

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crimethinc · 7 months ago

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From Redwood Trees to Olive Groves, the Commune Grows

A Statement from the Tree Occupation at Cal Poly Humboldt

https://crimethinc.com/CalPolyTreesit

An inspiring message from participants in the occupation of Cal Poly Humboldt in solidarity with Gaza, which has held its ground against a massive police mobilization for a week now.

This report includes a photoessay documenting the occupation of Cal Poly Humboldt and an audio recording of an audio presentation that one participant made via telephone to an encampment on the other side of the country last night.

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apricotmayonaise · 7 months ago

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i wasn't sexually harassed by @/musashi, ya'll are just playing the telephone game.

hi, im slushy, i'm 15 and a half years old, i keep hearing these bullshit rumours about my friend wendy, or musashi, as is their tumblr url. i'm here to go on the record to say, that did not fucking happen. unfortunately, since i got banned in the server this went down in. (ha ha. how ironic.) might be tricky but i do have, like, 10 people who can back me up on this.

so, a rundown of events. me, wendy, and a few other people are in a vc. i post a poll about what i should go as for halloween. the options are pretty skimpy but hey, i'm fifteen, going on sixteen years old. i'm nearly an adult and by the time halloween rolls around i'll be old enough to work, drive, and fuck. i'm a teenager, not a toddler.

a couple server members, i think it was around five, voted on this poll. the mods, specifically the owner, got mad at wendy specifically. they said wendy was sexualising me. wendy was obviously like "no, when i look at a teenager in a halloween costume i see a teenager in a halloween costume. slushy's 13 years my junior, im not a weirdo."

the owner proceeded to get mad at wendy and then told me i should dress up as jesus? which is an odd thing to say. it was less of lingerie and more like a bikini. which gives me a feeling that the people getting mad are the type to sexualise teenagers at the beach.

anyway, wendy, with no warning, got banned for this. the mods said they gave plenty of warning but in those "warnings" they seemed to just be making friendly requests, not mod-ly orders.

the whole claim of wendy "offering to buy" me anything is also completely and utterly false. that didnt happen dawg

anyway, i was confused, angry, and upset about this. wendy was also very upset.

anyway, you know who i was groomed by?? someone else on the server who all the mods continue to reblog from and interact with. they know she's a groomer. i've told them. wendy's told them. at least five other people have expressed concern or disgust at this person's behaviour, and yet they continue to talk to the groomer.

i also want to add that i was completely and utterly spoken over. every time i said "wendy wasnt weird or creepy!" they didn't listen to me because i'm just a minorrrr. i'm just a little girl who obviously can't think for herselffffffff.

as for wendy being a "pedo apologist", i think this just refers to wendy...not being an antishipper? god forbid wendy, a grown ass 28 year old adult with adult responsibilities not get into internet discourse? also i find it pretty gross how we put "actual fucking child predators" and "people who don't care about online drama surrounding made up ships" on the same level of bad. one is something i can scroll past or block the tag of. the other caused me trauma, pain, and having grown up way too fast. fictional characters can't experience pain or tragedy in the same way real children and teenagers can.

this post is in regards to this anon message:

you are a bunch of sick people who don't care about real child abuse. you ignore groomers and let them fly under the radar to target people who you, personally, don't agree with. you're making a real victim into a false victim, and at the time of the incident it was sexual assault survivor's awareness month.

if you're going to call someone a victim, at least fucking listen to them. a real groomer is out there living her life while my friend lost a big amount of friends due to false allegations.

#ugh

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archatlas · 4 months ago

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Opinion

Since the dawn of time we, people, have always been afraid of new technology. Writing, electricity, computers and many others were predicted to end society.

People worried that subways violated the will of God by getting people closer to hell, and that telephones would let people communicate with the dead. Early elevators were plagued by consumers who felt “elevator sickness” after their rides. And with the advent of the passenger train, people worried that “the unprecedented speeds of railroad travel could send women’s uteruses hurling from their bodies.” Link

Now is AI's turn. In more than 10 years posting here in tumblr as ArchAtlas, I have never received more anonymous hate messages as I have because I featured the work of two AI artists.

Maybe I'm too old, or technology has developed at a crazy pace in my lifetime (I grew up with one b/w tv in the house, one phone connected to the wall, no computers, etc) but its always the same story and as much as technology advances it is still always dependent on us: humans. AI is trying to mimic us, we are not trying to mimic AI. Art will change, like it did after the invention of photography and "good" art was not the one that could more closely resemble its subject anymore.

Negating its existence will not change reality.

Here are three examples of how technology was going to cause the downfall of culture and society:

Invention of Writing

As great a philosopher as he was, Socrates had his moments of idiocy too. He was not big on actually committing ideas to paper, for example, because he thought it would result in peoples’ memories getting worse. In his own words, “This discovery of yours will create forgetfulness in the learners’ souls, because they will not use their memories; they will trust to the external written characters and not remember of themselves.” Thank the stars nobody listened to the old coot, because if I had to orally recite every blog post, I’d be crazier than he was. Link

Invention of Photography

Photography was me targely with hostility to begin with. It was seen as taking work from artists and devaluing their work. However some people began to realise that there is more to artistic representation than simple recording of what the camera sees. Link

Invention of Computers

In the early 1980s, the age of the personal computer had arrived and "computerphobia" was suddenly everywhere. Sufferers experienced "a range of resistances, fears, anxieties, and hostilities," according to the 1996 book Women and Computers. "These can take such forms as fear of physically touching the computer or of damaging it and what's inside it, a reluctance to read or talk about computers, feeling threatened by those who do know something about them, feeling that you can be replaced by a machine, become a slave to it, or feeling aggressive towards computers." Link

#opinion #art #design #ai

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rebelcracker-s · 1 year ago

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WELCOME HOME THEORY :D

i've been swinging back and forth between "this is genius" and "i am spitballing" in debating whether to publicize this theory. i have decided to put it out there. i hope i'm somewhat right! (long post ahead)

so user @thecolourfulkingdom pointed out the importance of this tic-tac-toe image from the guestbook page:

i know a one-person game of tic-tac-toe doesn't seem like much, but op then placed this image on top of the neighborhood map (credits to them for figuring that out!), this image becomes very interesting.

it's suspicious how nicely the two line up.

i know this could be a random detail, but in somewhere as detailed as welcome home, i think that every detail counts, especially one like this. if it is a coincidence, it's a very strange one.

the circles in the board call attention to four (or five, depending on how you look at it) characters: wally/home, sally, frank, and howdy. we already know wally and home are two very important characters in the lore, but what connection do the remaining three three have? and why is wally pointing them out specifically?

this trio made me think of a certain image from the conceptual days of welcome home: concept art of the telephone that was revealed in the july update. (i'm not going to repost it due to clown's wishes about spreading conceptual art, but you can find it on their portfolio!)

in this image, the phone has eight buttons for eight neighbors, like the current one on the website. however, this one has three buttons scribbled out. based on colors, the three characters missing are sally (orange), howdy (teal), and eddie (purple).

i know it's not exact, but the fact that two out of the three "scratched-out" characters match the ones circled on this map has me thinking that i'm onto something.

here's what i think is going on. something happened in the neighborhood that divided the neighbors in half. something happened to the four uncircled ones--julie, barnaby, eddie, and poppy. it's really not clear what's happened to them right now, but wally has mentioned that he cannot talk to his neighbors right now. i think they at the very least lack the awareness to the strange things happening in the neighborhood. at the worst, they are dead.

again, i'm not sure what happened to them, so all we can do right now is speculate.

our remaining four--frank, sally, howdy, and wally--are the ones who have retained awareness. they know what is happening in home. they know about the whrp. and they know about the audience welcome home is gaining.

we know wally and home know about us because they have both spoken to us through the "i will find a way soon" audios. but what about the remaining three?

the july website update not only included the drawings that led to wally's messages, but also bugs leading to videos of interactions between the members. while the whrp insisted that there was nothing important about the bugs, the audience could click on these bugs and find secret videos depicting a conversation between the neighbors.

the latest game theory video on welcome home points out that like how drawing is related to wally and the drawings lead to messages from him, bugs are connected to frank, from his character description to his hidden audio with eddie. i believe those messages could be from frank. the video goes into more depth about this, but for the sake of the length of this theory, i'll stop here.

in the october 13th halloween update, we got the "happy haunting to boo and yours" record. the website staff insist multiple times that there is a gap in the audio during sally's story where they can't make out what sally is saying, but we can. (if you need a transcript for the skipped-over part, i have one reblogged!)

sally's story is a very menacing one about a monster that she cannot see or hear that prowls the neighborhood at night, devouring anything it passes, confining the neighbors to their homes at night. this would seem like a normal scary story if not for how the audio changes. at every other part, the audio has a crackly, vinyl sound; however, sally's story is perfectly clear.

it seems to me like sally is directly talking to the website's audience here: she's trying to warn us about the strange things going on in home. i think frank's messages were trying to do the same thing too. these are glimpses into the sides of welcome home that the whrp, wally, and home have not shown us: the lives of the neighbors, and the unsettling danger lurking beneath it all. notice how subtle both of their warnings were, and how they were careful to make sure that whrp could not discover them while the audience could.

also, remember how the title of the video tabs in the july update--"answer"--led us to the staff only page? i think the title of the newest hidden video--"listen"--is telling us not only to listen to the audios for a true glimpse of what life in the neighborhood was like, but to listen to their warnings.

i don't think wally is aware that frank and sally have been contacting us in secret, but i do believe he knows that they stand apart from the other neighbors, hence the tic-tac-toe board and the map.

but there's still one loose end: howdy hasn't yet talked to the audience. i think that during the big holiday update, we will see the final member of the "survivor trio" (as i like to call them) contact us. and i'm hoping this update tells us more about what's happening in welcome home's world and what role we as the viewers play in it.

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timedyne · 10 months ago

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last night i had a dream that lethal company updated and added a new piece of scrap that was this red telephone (looked a lot like the hotline from control) and it was treated like a huge update and people were like "wtf this isnt anything at all you just added a phone to the scrap pool" but then people noticed that you could interact with it and eventuallly learned that if you entered certain number combinations you could listen to various messages left for sigurd and his coworkers by their families and friends, audio recordings of conversations had on their ship, and general company propaganda and needless to say i woke up very disappointed that it isnt real. it was voice acted and most of it was devastating. my subconscious can cook up some good angst fr

#blurry speaks #blurry dreams #lethal company

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studioaudio · 1 year ago

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Hotel Telephone's On-Hold Music and Messages

The brief period that your customers spend on hold can significantly influence their perceptions of your hotel. Did they listen to generic music or a tailored message that resonates with your brand? These fleeting moments offer an excellent chance to promote services that guests can enjoy during their stay, attracting potential or returning visitors.

However, on-hold marketing can be challenging to execute correctly, which is where our expertise at Studio52 comes into play. We specialize in creating compelling on-hold marketing strategies that effectively promote your hotel’s offerings and leave a positive impression on your guests.

Let’s see what these are and what can they do for your hotel!

About Hold Music

Music-on-hold (MOH) is a commonly used practice that involves playing recorded music to fill the silence that callers hear while placed on hold. It is also referred to as phone hold music, on-hold messaging, or hold music, and is prevalent in customer service scenarios.

The origin of music-on-hold dates back to 1962 when entrepreneur and inventor Alfred Levy stumbled upon the concept by accident. He discovered that a loose wire in his building was picking up an audio broadcast signal from the radio station next door, which callers could hear when placed on hold.

Recognizing the potential benefits for his business and customers, Levy patented the concept in 1966. Although technological advancements have transformed on-hold music services since then, Levy’s patent marked the start of the evolution that ultimately led to today’s music-on-hold.

Why Should You Invest In It

A study by the USA Business Telephone Today Center examined the effects of placing customers on hold for one minute — with and without music.

During the first phase, the first 10,000 callers were left on hold for 1 minute without any background music. More than half of the callers, over 50%, hung up before the minute was up. Additionally, approximately 45% of the remaining callers believed their hold time lasted between 3 to 5 minutes.

For the second phase, another 10,000 callers were put on hold for 1 minute, but this time with on-hold music playing in the background. The results showed that only 13% of the callers hung up before the minute was up. Moreover, only 31% of the callers perceived that their total hold time exceeded 60 seconds, with 56% of people believing their hold time was under 1 minute.

It is worth noting that the choice of music played during the hold time has an impact on the perception of wait time. Psychologists have revealed that slow-tempo, relaxing music can effectively make the wait time feel shorter than it is.

youtube

How To Choose The Best Music

To enhance the customer experience, it’s essential to choose on-hold music that aligns with their preferences. For instance, if you run a Mexican restaurant, playing traditional Mariachi music would be an obvious choice for customers on hold.

However, for most businesses, choosing the right music is not so straightforward. Musical tastes vary, making it challenging to select a piece of music that appeals to everyone. It’s crucial to keep the on-hold music fresh by updating the playlist periodically to engage regular callers. If you change the selection every month, it will provide a welcome relief to frequent callers.

As your business evolves, so should your on-hold playlist. It’s essential to tailor the on-hold music to the caller’s purpose. Consider the type of line you’re providing music for – is it for sales or complaints? For a sales line, the music should be engaging and energetic, while for a complaint line, it should be soothing to calm customers’ tempers.

Choosing the best on-hold music for your organization should never be a throwaway task. It takes dedicated thought and finesse to keep customer satisfaction levels high, even when customers are calling to file a complaint. Selecting music that reflects your brand makes a significant difference in the customer experience your business provides.

What To Do With the On-Hold Messages

Promote Your Place

Incorporating On-Hold Marketing is an excellent strategy to inform your callers why your hotel is the preferred choice in the area. There are several selling features you can include in your hold message. If your hotel is conveniently located near popular attractions, events, or major intersections, or nestled in a peaceful spot, it’s beneficial to let your callers know.

Providing your guests with precisely what they are seeking before their arrival is an essential component of an exceptional hotel experience.

Excite Listeners About Changes

Have you recently renovated your hotel or introduced new menu items or beautiful linens? Perhaps there’s a new attraction in your area that offers unique entertainment or fantastic shopping. Regular guests appreciate being informed about the latest developments in and around your hotel, and your on-hold message is an ideal platform to share this information. Our writers can help you compile all the exciting news and let callers know that a stay with you has everything they desire.

Also Read : 9 On hold message ideas

Introduce Staff

While offering amenities that are appreciated by guests is crucial, the exceptional people who serve them can have an even more significant influence on their perception of a fantastic stay. If you have a great team, consider mentioning them in your on-hold script. It’s always pleasant to know the name of the person who adds that extra touch to make each guest feel special or simply to make the conversation more personal. By doing so, when guests are searching for a hotel in your area, they will make a connection and remember the friendly person who made their stay enjoyable.

Share Guest Reviews

Although waiting on hold can be frustrating, it’s an unfortunate reality of life. However, an on-hold message that includes your web address can lead your caller to your greatest sales opportunity: your past guests! The Internet is both a marketing opportunity and a massive source of competition.

Almost everyone checks the web to ensure that previous guests had a pleasant stay before considering booking at your hotel. Your on-hold message presents the perfect opportunity to encourage your guests to leave reviews on sites such as Yelp and TripAdvisor. You can even mention specific reviews from past guests in your hold message to showcase their positive experiences.

Conclusion

The on-hold music and messages that hotels provide for their guests can have a significant impact on the overall customer experience. By selecting the right music, incorporating valuable information about the hotel, and highlighting exceptional staff members, hotels can enhance the caller’s perception of their brand and ultimately drive more business.

Encouraging past guests to leave reviews through on-hold messages can help attract new customers and establish a positive reputation online. Therefore, taking the time to craft effective on-hold messages and music selections can be a worthwhile investment for any hotel looking to improve guest satisfaction and grow its business.

If you need a professionally made on-hold messaging system, feel free to contact us!

#telephone hold messages production #telephone hold message recording company #telephone hold message service dubai #on hold message for business #Youtube

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syncrovoid-presents · 1 year ago

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Wally and the Colour RED

Wally and the colour Red have an interesting relationship in Welcome Home. This is a rambling/analysis of different things I've found that makes me believe it's an important detail moving forwards with the Welcome Home Mystery!

First! Why do I think this matters?

There's a few reasons why I think this matters! First, while all the members of the cast seem to be tied to a colour, none is as focused or as consistent as Wally and the colour red! The two primary examples I'll use to cover this is one that we've had for a while, and two that we got in this update. Those being the signatures at the bottom of the guestbook, the interactable telephone, and the name graphics on the transcript page!

Interestingly, all of the cast are directly tied to a specific colour! The signatures at the bottom of the Guestpage and the colours of the "calls" on the telephone are the same for each character. This being pink for Julie, orange for Sally, yellow for Frank, green for Poppy, turquoise for Howdy, blue for Barnaby, purple for Eddie, and red for Wally. This is consistent (and possibly something to pay attention for in the future?)

Notably however, Home is signed by Wally, while the audio file for Wally's "call" recording is also called "duet" when you open it in another tab. Audio files with "duet" is a sign that Home is present. This means that red is not strictly a Wally colour, but also the colour for Home!

(if you're curious, the other audio called "duet" is Wally's little song he sings)

This is interesting, because Wally and Home are often treated as a duo, moreso than any other characters of Welcome Home. I would also like to point out another detail, one that I think ties into this tie between Wally, Home and the colour red.

The Records

All the records from Wally's hidden message ("I will help you understand neighbor, I will find a way soon.") are red! Sure, some are glitched, but they are all red. As is this record with the strange audio (has anyone decoded this yet?). This audio is directly tied to Wally, as it's called "(DRAWING?) WITH WALLY DARLING".

However the hidden one's may not just be Wally. Though they are all name the tab "answer" when opened, I'm tempted to say that "answer" is wally prompting us to answer (or, alternatively, Wally is trying to answer us, however he perceives us).

I believe that Home is there too in the audio. If you listen to all of them in a row, turning up the audio will reveal that there is a heart beat in the background. This, I want to say, is Home and not Wally, as Wally does not seem to register them. It peaks about halfway through with Neighbor, coincidentally the audio that is both glitching and is made of a series of clicks rather than voice lines.

I have seen people say that this is "Help Me" or "Hello" in morse code. I do not know which is the agreed translation is (to me it sounds like "…. . ..-.. .. -.. ---", which translates to "HEĘIDO", which is not a word. However it most resembles "…. . .-.. .-.. ---" which translates to "HELLO")

Regardless of what Home may be saying, it shows that the hidden recordings can be put together into a timeline that sounds like one recording, which means it's most likely all recorded at the same place. Ergo, Home is in the hidden recordings as well!

Other spots where red is brought up

There are other instances of red being tied to Wally. Some are obvious, like his love of apples (red ones specifically), the Wally prints/finger paint on the bottom of the guestbook, the background of the "i <3 Wally" gif/sticker in the sticker section of the site (also shared with Home. Wally's character description is also shared by home!), Wally himself in the "so-below" page, among other things. Such as the Wally themed telephone being red, despite his more iconic blue swirled hair (or blue and yellow-trimed sweater), his clothing in multiple official artworks, the Wally cereal box, and more.

(Like something I've noticed, which is that Home is the only house that's a solid colour (red!) without any pattern breaking it up, plus the most "standout" red that Wally typically wears being tied around his neck (symbolism?). Plus the "W" of Welcome Home is red! That's fun too!

There's also some... stranger ones. Such as this hidden piece of morse code found by this person, which spells out ".. -- .-. . -..", or "IM RED" when translated to english.

And more hidden ones too, that tie into the hidden staff page (I have a post breaking that down that you can find here!! I cover everything I could find plus went through the website code, if you want to know everything about the secret staff site check it out!)

There is the red safe, which has in WHRP universe lore!! I delve into this in my other post, just know that it is something that exists both in the secret website (it is what introduces you to the hidden website!) AND it exists in the WHRP world, both written about in printed emails and as a physical object seen within The Room:tm:. You may also notice everyone is represented by their original colours, except for home, who is now white (or blank?).

There's also scrap pieces of red paper spilled on the ground in The Room:tm: (that have drawn spirals), a red clock in the style of Wally's red car, a red painting of some sort on the wall of The Room:tm: (that we never get a good look at, though it may have a drawn yellow eye in the upper center), a red apple, and most importantly of all, this:

The Red Notebook

This is no ordinary notebook. This here is the notebook that the WHRP team have "loaned" the Question Answerer, also known as the Head Curator of Question Answer! according to the printed emails. This book is very important because there are multiple signs that it was written by Wally. Inside is a sketchpad attached to the lefthand interior bookcase with little paintings and a handprint suspiciously similar to that on the bottom of the GuestBook page and doodles in the styles Wally has used (spirals, finger paint smiley face, the drawn apple, etc).

(by the way, if you're interested in what the note says the most accurate translation I've found is by Tumblr user truckfreaks

"Hello,

My name doesn't matter. I am here to catalogue something I'm not sure is fully real. But it must be. I'm holding all the evidence in my hands. Pictures. Characters. Text I can barely read. It's called "Welcome Home" and it looks like it might've been a children's book? Like I said, I can't tell.

It was sopping wet when I found it. When I first reached into one of the brightly colored envelopes, my hand was already covered in some gross, [unknown - possibly “oozing”] material. It feels like antiques are always covered in some kind of grime. I'm trying to clean up what I have and do a little more digging.

There's only one name I can make out right now... Wally. Probably important, but like I said, I'll keep looking.

XOXO"

The wrap up (don't want to make this too long!)

Regardless of what you make of this, it shows that there is even more proof of Wally, not just the character but the Wally ""haunting"" the website and the Wally within the WHRP universe, all being tied to the colour red. (Quick clarification: The Wally we see in branding, clips of the show, etc are all Wally, however he isn't current Wally. He is the Wally of the past, the original Wally, the base Wallly, whatever you want to call him. Therefore I separate him from the "now" Wally. It's unconfirmed whether the Wally that's seemingly trying to communicate with us through the website is the same as the Wally that seems to be related to all the objects being sent to Question Answerer, who is the same Wally that is constantly calling them. If so, then there is only one "now" Wally. If they are separate, then there are two, possibly one in the website itself and one focusing on Question Answerer. Please note, this is all speculation).

While it's true that red is Wally's favourite colour, I believe that it's far more than just that tying Wally and the color red together. Going forwards, anything red that isn't immediately branded as a Wally related object should be considered important, at least I think so.

As for the connection between Wally and Home, both sharing the colour Red? I think this primarily is a display of how the two characters either rely on each other or are, in the vaguest of ways, tied together by fate.

Good bye for now!

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home analysis #wh home #i have... so many thoughts!! so much I wish to ramble on!! but I shall leave it with this #hopefully it makes sense! if not I will re-read it later and maybe make it more comprehensive #but summary: red and wally!! important!! this is important!!#also question answerer... you and me we're buds from another universe @:)#the reason why question answerer is mentioned is because their part of the story is VERY important when analyzing #the background WHRP-universe happenings. The objects are heavily implied to be coming straight from the Welcome Home world #(though covered in a black ooze. The same ooze mentioned in the letter BESIDE the notebook tied to Wally AND the same ooze growing on #growing on the walls of The Room:tm:)#Other objects appearing in The Room:tm: also have this black ooze. AND!!#this black ooze is known not just by Question Answerer (who seems to be the main restorer of the Welcome Home media)#but also by the WHRP team.. who directly tells Question Answerer that if they feel nauseous #dizzy sick or otherwise unwell around the stuff.. to just ignore it!#denial TRULY is the BEST medication folks /it is not please take care of yourselves!!#however the emails (printed? which is suspicious?) between the WHRP team and Question Answerer are... odd #very odd. An oddness that goes beyond a simple company acting in corporate interest over employee safety #maybe I should cover that?#hmmmm so many things!! so many thoughts!!#Alas my habit of writing much in the tags cannot be stopped. anyways thank you very much for reading!!#I encourage you to share thoughts (if you wish! No pressure of course!)#syncrovoid.txt

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scotianostra · 4 months ago

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On August 13th 1888 John Logie Baird was born in Helensburgh.

John was the fourth and youngest child of the Rev John and Jessie Baird, he showed early signs of ingenuity by setting up a telephone exchange to connect his house to those of his friends nearby.

His first interest in television came in 1903 after he read a German book on the photoelectric properties of selenium.Baird sailed for Port of Spain, Trinidad in November 1919 and realising that the island teemed with citrus fruit and sugar, he set up a jam factory. Unfortunately the local insect life either ran off with the sugar or landed in the hot vats of boiling preserve.

Baird returned to the British Isles in September 1920, and after a brief spell in business in London, he started to experiment with television. In Hastings in 1924 he transmitted the image of a Maltese cross over the distance of 10 feet.Baird's first public demonstration of television was in 1925, in Selfridge's shop in London.

The breakthrough came in October 1925 when he achieved television pictures with light and shade (half-tones), making them much clearer.He demonstrated these to invited members of the Royal Institution in January 1926. The pictures measured only 3.5 x 2 inches.In 1928 Baird sent television pictures from London to New York by short-wave radio. He also demonstrated television in colour, and developed a video recording system which he called 'phonovision'.

In 1929 the BBC sent out experimental television transmissions. At first Baird had to pay the BBC to transmit his images. A year later the Baird company brought out the world's first mass produced television set, called 'The Televisor'.The BBC began using his system for the first public television service in 1932, before switching in 1937 to the Marconi-EMI version.

In July 1937 the Royal Society of Edinburgh awarded Baird an Honorary Fellowship.

At the age of 43, John Logie Baird married South African pianist Margaret Albu in New York. The couple had two children – Diana and Malcolm.

During the Second World War, Baird continued to fund his own research. His achievements included high-definition colour and 3D television, and a system for sending messages very rapidly as television images.

John Logie Baird died at his home in Bexhill-on-Sea on 14th June 1946, and was buried in Helensburgh.

In a National Library of Scotland poll John Logie Baird was voted the second most popular Scottish scientist from the past behind James Clerk Maxwell.

#scotland #scottish #history #television #inventor

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tangerinesgirl · 1 month ago

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Kinktober 2024 - October 28th

Fucking Machine // Phone Sex // Impact Play

Adam 'Frank' Barrett x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+, explicit

Word count: 900>

Warnings: smut, public sex, phone sex, JOI, Reader works at an office, Frank kills your boss, degradation and a touch of praise kink

Kinktober List || Masterlist || AO3

You groan as you hang up on your umpteenth call of the day. Glancing at the time at the bottom of the screen, still another three hours to go. Leaning back in your desk chair, you sigh, exasperated, brushing the hair back off your face. Taking a moment, you look down at your phone. It buzzes with one message. It's from Frank - a photo. Usually it's a meme, so you unlock your phone, but instead you're greeted with a dick pic.

You mentioned to him a few times that's you're okay with surprise dick pics, especially when he's away on a job for a long time.

It's a pretty good picture of his cock, springing free from his boxers. The quality is also surprisingly good as you notice the veins running up his shaft. As you're taking it in, the three dots appear as Frank types a message.

"Thinking of you 😉🍆"

Before you can reply, the screen flashes to a phone call incoming from him, luckily your phone was on silent. Your eyes dart around the room before answering quickly.

"Frankie, I'm at work", you whisper.

"Then patch me through, I miss you."

"I haven't met my target for the day."

"It won't take long."

"I could get fired."

"Then I'll find you a new job."

You take another glance around the room, everyone deep in phone calls. You unplug the headset from the work telephone and insert the aux into your phone, placing the screen face down and disguising the wire lead as best you can.

"Good afternoon, this is Y/N speaking, how can I help?"

"Good girl", you can somehow hear Frank smiling on the other end. His voice feels different in the headset, hearing every breath and lip smack in glorious surround sound.

"Now then", Frank continues, "What are you wearing?"

You hesitate, unsure how to answer that while in a work setting.

"I can certainly look into that for you sir, are you a returning customer?", you keep up pretenses as you start to type out nonsense on the keyboard.

"Sir... I like that. Did you like the little gift I sent you earlier?"

"Yes, I see that in your records."

"I didn't hear a sir at the end of that."

"I do apologise, sir."

"That's better. Now, I want you to move a hand towards that pretty little cunt of yours."

You do as your told, your hand slipping underneath your skirt, teasing yourself through your underwear.

"Have you done that?", Frank continues.

"Yes sir."

"Mmm perfect, now dip those fingers inside those panties and rub at your clit for me."

Leaning back in the chair, you start to move your fingers between your folds, gasping softly.

"Oh fuck", Frank moans hearing you. "I'm touching myself at work right now too...listen."

You can hear him move the phone loudly, before a wet stroking sound echoes through your headset. Imagination in overdrive, you have to stop yourself from drooling as you snap back to reality.

"Now push two fingers inside of you."

You curl your fingers inside your pussy, wetness starting to seep out of you, through your underwear. You try to muffle a moan.

"That all appears to be in order, sir."

"Filthy bitch. I want you to work those fingers inside of you until you cum in front of all those fuckers like the whore you are."

You're taken slightly aback by his command, but secretly you loved it.

"Yes sir."

"Even admitting you're nothing but a slut. Wishing it was my cock you were riding rather than your fingers."

You hum in agreement, heavy breathing into your mic.

"Take a photo, I want to see."

Quickly surveying the room, everyone is still furiously typing at their computer screens. They're so engrossed, you doubt they would stir even if you got up and offered everyone free donuts.

So you take a photo, your underwear covering most of your modesty, hands dipping inside to stroke yourself.

"Fuck", Frank recieves the photo. "Wish I was there right now and fuck your brains out in the bathroom."

You let out a small whimper and quickly cover it up with a cough.

"Fuck Y/N, I'm gonna cum, are you close?"

"Yes sir."

"Good."

Suddenly a hand grips your shoulder. You jump out of your skin and whip off the headset.

"I'm going to need you to come with me."

You recognise his voice immediately. It's Frank. Your stomach starts to settle down, no longer petrified your boss could have caught you.

"Frank, what are you-"

"I had a nice little word with your boss", his head rests on your cheek, his voice deep, feeling the vibrations on your jawbone.

"He's kindly given you the afternoon off, so take off that headset and don't make me ask twice."

You swallow before taking off the headset and hanging up the call. Standing up you notice a wet patch on the black leather chair, but Frank is holding your wrist forcing you to come with him, already halfway across the room.

You're about to say something when heads start to turn. Deciding to be quiet, you follow Frank into the bathroom. Passing your boss' office on the way, you notice him passed out on his desk. A vicious bite, at least you think it was, honestly it's more of a gaping hole, on his neck. Blood soaking into the carpet.

Your skin pales and you turn back to face Frank. You know his job isn't honorable and he is a killer, but he has never killed someone just to have sex with you before. It feels awful. But you know he would never hurt you. And your boss was a terrib- no stop trying to rationalise this he's a murd-

All these thoughts melt away as his lips meet yours, as he locks the bathroom door behind you.

#fanfic #dan stevens #reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #absurdthurst kinktober #abigail #frank abigail #adam barrett #frank x reader

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wholesomefluffdaddy · 8 months ago

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Wednesday's new court mandated therapist is having her keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings. Wednesday finds this to be a complete waste of time and decides instead to use it to record her observations of her unusual roommate Enid Sinclair. Wednesday POV.

——————————————

Entry 9

Current Moon Phase: New Moon 🌑

Before I record my new findings I must confess that I may have panicked when Enid placed her lips upon my skin. I am aware that it was illogical but I seem to be in a rather illogical state of mind as of late. I shall have to discuss this with my therapist at our next session.

Once my brain chemistry had returned to normal levels I was able to rationalize Enid's actions. As I continue to document my subject I have found it prudent to study the social behavior of wolves, as there is much overlap between them and their lycanthropic kin. I have learned that wolves will lick or 'kiss' the muzzles of their packmates as a form of greeting. This shouldn't have been surprising as some human cultures have a similar custom. Clearly Enid was greeting me in a typical werewolf manner and nothing more. Not that I would assume there to be anything more; for what more could there be?

While this new form of greeting was rather startling I feel that I could grow accustomed to it, especially as I have learned there is a much more invasive way of greeting among wolves. I have read how wolves will oftentimes stick their tongues in the mouths of their fellow packmates to gain information about them such as mood, hormonal changes, and so on. While I understand it is a simple formality I would not be ready for such a greeting yet. Perhaps Enid took this into consideration on my behalf? I shall have to ponder this later.

Seeing as I was unable to discuss the matter of being packmates the previous week I once again devised a plan for discussing it. I also wished to observe the effects, or possible lack thereof, of the new moon on my werewolf companion. With both goals firmly in mind I made a request of Enid to join me for a coffee in town. I chose this setting as to allow for greater privacy, as I did not wish to have an audience. I also did not want to catch Enid off guard so I informed her via my mobile telephone that I desired to discuss something of great importance with her.

Enid seemed very enthusiastic about receiving my message, for she sent many more in response. I assume her promptness in which she wanted to respond was the reason for her abbreviations and misspelling of many words as well as the addition of several unnecessary punctuation marks. I wrote her back informing her that her questions would be answered to the best of my abilities and that she could answer mine in turn.

Enid arrived at the Weathervane ten minutes prior to our agreed upon meeting time. She appeared to be somewhat anxious. Perhaps something had occurred during her commute? Either way she wasted no time ordering and promptly sitting down across from me at the booth I selected. She was quick to inquire as to what I wanted to discuss. I considered her for a moment. She still appeared distressed. I attempted to ease the tension by complimenting her appearance. However, my mind had once again abandoned me and I spoke not in English.

'But I already shut the door?' Enid had responded in confusion, glancing back at the entry to the Weathervane. I was most perplexed and blinked slowly. 'Why'd you ask that in a French accent?' She asked. I appeared to be speaking French this time but could not recall what I had said. Enid rose slowly as her name was called to retrieve her order. I began to panic slightly. Would I be able to discuss our status as packmates? What if this lapse in cognitive function made it infeasible to converse in English? As Enid returned to the table I quickly stood up. Perhaps I could right some of these errors with a simple werewolf greeting?

I placed my hands on Enid's arms and stretched upwards to place a quick kiss upon her cheek. Having completed the greeting I pulled back. Enid stared at me with wide eyes as she fluffed out. I was gripped with an even greater anxiety. Had I greeted her incorrectly? Enid continued to stare at me as she sat down. I hurried to mirror her and sat down as well. I prepared to intercept her question just as she began to open her mouth. Misfortune seemed to have taken favor with me, for in my haste I bungled my words. I had meant to ask 'What are we as packmates?' However, I instead asked 'Are we mates?'

Enid spat out a fair amount of coffee. Evidently she had gone to sip her drink rather than ask me a question. Her cheeks flushed with color as she wiped her mouth. I felt my own grow rather hot at my verbal faux pas. I tried again. 'S'il te plaît, pardonne-moi' I began then stopped as I was once again cursed to speak in tongues that were not applicable to my current situation. 'Willa, why do you keep talking like that?' Enid whispered. 'Je ne sais pas!' My mind was waging war against itself in an apparent attempt at self sabotage. 'Lo siento.' I had managed to switch languages but not to my intended one. I gripped the table and considered making a retreat until my sanity saw fit to return to me.

I nearly jumped as I felt Enid's soft warm hands envelope my own. 'Willa-?' She shook her head. 'Wednesday' She had begun in a much more serious tone. Without stating it directly she had commanded me to look at her. I felt trapped in those cerulean eyes as if I were stranded in the middle of the ocean without a life preserver. She applied a steady pressure to my hands. 'Do you want to be mates?' I was beginning to drown in those pools of piercing blue. I numbly felt my body act without my volition. It was as if I was a specter observing from afar. I saw myself nod but was too numb to feel it. I wanted to scream for correction; to clarify any possible misunderstanding.

'Estoy asustada.' Was all I could manage to muster. The shock of saying something so obviously against my nature was enough to break me from my paralytic state. I blinked and tore my eyes away from the wolf to scowl at myself. 'Willa, what are you saying?' She asked. 'I don't know. I think I'm going mad.' I replied earnestly. There was a moment of silence. I looked down at my captured hands. Enid was stroking them gently with her thumbs. This brought some sort of comfort. Perhaps because a formidable predator had me restrained and could end me from suffering even further embarrassment.

'I think you're having a panic attack.' The werewolf informed me. I swallowed. The shame I felt was incredible. How could I be so weak? I balled my hands into fists, or at least tried to while in the werewolf's grasp. 'Can I try something? To help you out of it?' She offered. I nodded again. 'This might hurt a little.' She said. My curiosity was piqued and then I felt it, a sharp prick. I looked down to see the werewolf digging her thumb claws into my hand. The rush of clarity and relief from my panicked state was immeasurable. I looked up at her with gratitude but for some reason my heart palpitations continued.

Enid did not catch my eye this time as she instead kept them fixed upon the hands of her captured prey. She frowned at the small beads of blood she had drawn but kept her claws in. 'I want to be mates too.' She said lightly. I felt a sudden elation I couldn't place. Obviously she meant packmates, because she knew the nuances of the situation. She was choosing to abbreviate the term as I had done, likely as a way to comfort me and my disastrous initial attempt at beginning the conversation.

'I want to take things slow but I don't know if I can, with you.' She had said with a shy smile. I too felt the hint of a grin tug at my lips until her eyes pounced upon me again. I froze like a mouse before a cat. I remained trapped in her gaze as she once again applied pressure to my hand with her claws. A discomfiting sound escaped my lips which I shall not elaborate on further. I wanted nothing more than for my packmate to maul me in that moment. I believe some part of her desired that as well for the look she gave me not so subtly indicated a deep hunger. As if anticipating death, or at the very least a light maiming at her hands, I felt myself lean forward slightly.

A heard the quietest of growls escaped her as she leaned closer in turn. Her lips began to part and I felt my own reciprocate. My mind began to fill with a suffocating haze and my heartbeat thundered deafeningly in my ears. Just as I thought she was about to close the gap between us she paused. 'Wens?' The concern in her voice struck me like a slap across the face. What had I done now? I followed her gaze downward. I appeared to be gripping her hands for dear life. My body also seemed to be experiencing mild tremors, likely a new symptom manifesting from the current madness engulfing me.

I quickly released her hands and withdrew. I looked out the window in an attempt to quell my mind and conceal my illness. 'Sorry.' I heard the werewolf murmur. 'I guess that was a little too fast, huh?' Yes, perhaps it was too soon for a mauling and a public setting such as the Weathervane felt rather inappropriate for such an intimate matter. I agreed and kept my eyes averted. I was unable to complete any further research.

Dear Diary,

So I know last time I said this but - you are NOT going to believe what happened today! 😳 Okay, so first of all Willa asked if we could go grab coffee with the most ominous text ever 😰

Enid, I humbly request your presence at the Weathervane this morning at 9am sharp. We must discuss an important matter regarding the status of our relationship that can no longer be avoided.

I thought I was going to DIE! 😵 That was somehow so much worse than just 'we need to talk.' And of course she didn't elaborate on in further when I started panic texting her back I was so worried that I misread her signals (which, like, can anyone read her signals? Is she even sending signals?) when I kissed her last week. I was scared that I messed up and she was going to ask to move out or something 😥

But! I noticed she's kept the wolf stuffed animal I left her so I figured there was maybe a 50/50 chance she just maybe, possibly, wanted to ask me out? Anyway, I showed up early (because I was losing my mind!) I order, I go over to her, I ask her what's up and she says 'Jhut da door'? Maybe it was French? (I don't know, I never paid attention in that class) And I was so confused and then they called my order -

Anyway! I get back, Willa gets up, and OHMYGOD. SHE. KISSED. ME. (on the cheek) 😵 I didn't know what was going on but at least I wasn't worried about her asking to move out anymore But it didn't stop there - I go to have a sip of my coffee and Willa just blurts out 'Are we mates?' OMG I thought I was going to shoot coffee out my nose - Were we dating this whole time and I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT IT?

I started freaking out - Willa started freaking out - we were both freaking OUT 😨😨 Willa starts speaking in French and maybe some other language at some point. I ask what's going on and she looks like she's about to run. I take her hands to try and calm her down. I have to have an answer! I have to try to calm down so I can ask if she wants to be mates, because Willa-! Do you know what you're asking? 😳😳😳 She has this terrified look in her eyes but nods. I feel like I'm about to wolf out in the middle of the Weathervane, she looks like she's screaming internally, and then she whispers something. (Willa! What are you saying?) I ask her what she's saying and then she just gives me this dead-eyed look and is like 'I think I'm going mad.' OMG. Willa. You're not mad - just emotionally constipated!

But then I noticed something really going wrong. I could smell her adrenaline and cortisol levels going through the roof. I think that took everything out of her just to ask if we are romantically involved 😥 I just kept holding her hands and let her know that I think she's having a panic attack. Her panic only seems to get worse and now she looks like she wants to die. 😰 I know suggesting breathing exercises, and talking it out aren't going to work at that moment so I went with the next best thing… I dug my claws into her hands. 😔 I know that pain is one of the few things that could pull her out of a panic attack but I don't like it.

Once I start drawing blood… I could smell that it stopped. I told her that I wanted to be mates too... She didn't say anything but her response was obvious. However, when I went to look at her she became immediately frightened. Worried that she might have another panic attack, I squeezed her hands again. She, uh 😳 She made an interesting noise! I couldn't take my eyes off her now and she started leaning forward. Just as I start leaning forward to share our 💕 first kiss 💕 she starts shaking like a leaf! 😣💔 I stop and she pulls away like she's terrified. She practically curled up into a ball! I apologized for taking things too fast. (I just really wanted to kiss her )

She didn't talk much after that. I felt so bad. 😢 I know Wednesday can get overwhelmed really quickly from anything having to do with emotions or expressing them openly. I told her I was going to leave, you know, to give her some space if she needed, but she shook her head, got up and took my hand saying that she was going with me - with her mate ❤️

#ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday x enid #wenclair #wednesday is oblivious #wednesday is soft for enid #wholesomefluffdaddy

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