#Hidden device detection

[ug2group]

How Bugs Sweeping Services Help Companies Stop Corporate Espionage Before It Happens

In today’s competitive business world, information is your greatest asset — and your greatest vulnerability. Boardroom strategies, intellectual property, legal conversations, and confidential negotiations are all prime targets for corporate spies and covert surveillance.

Corporate espionage is not science fiction. It’s a growing reality for companies of all sizes — from global corporations to startups. And it often begins with a tiny, hidden device in a meeting room, private office, or executive suite.

This is where Bugs Sweeping comes in. A professional bug sweep doesn’t just find hidden microphones and cameras — it protects your business from devastating data leaks before they ever happen. For smart business decision-makers and security-conscious professionals, Bugs Sweeping is no longer optional — it’s an essential line of defense.

What Are Bugs Sweeping Services?

Bugs Sweeping, also known as Technical Surveillance Countermeasures (TSCM) inspections, is the professional process of detecting, locating, and neutralizing covert surveillance devices.

These devices can include:

Hidden microphones

Miniature cameras

Wireless transmitters

GPS trackers in vehicles

Malware-enabled smart devices

Professional bug sweep specialists use advanced equipment to detect suspicious radio frequencies, unusual power signals, and hidden electronics that ordinary inspections miss.

Why Are Professional Bug Sweeps Needed?

You might think corporate spying only happens to big brands. The reality is, every business has valuable data someone else wants: trade secrets, client information, financial data, or upcoming deals.

One hidden bug can: 1. Leak confidential boardroom discussions to competitors 2. Sabotage M&A negotiations 3. Steal product designs before launch 4. Violate privacy laws, exposing your company to lawsuits 5. Destroy trust with partners and stakeholders

Unfortunately, these risks often go unnoticed — until the damage is done. By then, it’s too late.

How Professional Bugs Sweeping Stops Espionage Early

A one-time or regular professional bug sweep helps companies detect hidden threats before they can cause harm. Here’s how:

Early Detection: Bugs sweeping finds hidden surveillance devices BEFORE they gather critical information.

Advanced Equipment: Professionals use high-grade spectrum analyzers, non-linear junction detectors (NLJDs), thermal imaging, and signal analyzers that detect both active and passive bugs.

Expert Techniques: Trained specialists know exactly where to look — inside light fixtures, behind walls, in furniture, or inside everyday objects.

Discreet and Secure: Bugs sweeping is performed quietly, without drawing attention or creating panic among employees or stakeholders.

Actionable Reporting: If threats are found, you get detailed documentation that can support legal action or internal security measures.

DIY Bug Sweep vs. Professional Bugs Sweeping: What’s the Risk?

Some businesses think they can do it themselves with cheap handheld detectors or apps. Here’s why that rarely works:

Limited Range: Consumer devices can’t detect sophisticated or passive bugs.

False Positives: Amateur sweeps often misread harmless signals as threats.

Missed Devices: Modern surveillance gadgets are tiny, camouflaged, and often offline until activated.

No Legal Proof: DIY sweeps don’t provide credible reports for legal or compliance use.

A professional bug sweep gives you peace of mind — and evidence that stands up if you need to take action.

Who Should Use Bugs Sweeping Services?

Hidden surveillance isn’t just a risk for massive corporations. Bugs Sweeping protects:

Corporate boardrooms and executive offices

Legal and compliance teams

Startups working on sensitive IP

Tech founders with investor conversations

HNIs, celebrities, and public figures

Hotels and offsite meeting spaces

Private vehicles, aircraft, and yachts

If you handle valuable information — you need Bugs Sweeping.

How UG2 Group Protects Your Privacy

At UG2 Group, we provide trusted, professional Bugs Sweeping Services to help companies detect hidden surveillance and stop corporate espionage before it happens.

Our experienced TSCM specialists use military-grade detection tools and proven sweep methods to secure boardrooms, offices, luxury homes, vehicles, and private jets — anywhere privacy matters.

Every inspection is confidential and customized to your unique risk profile. We don’t just sweep once — we help you build a smarter privacy strategy that keeps threats out for good.

What’s the Cost of Doing Nothing?

Failing to sweep for bugs can cost far more than hiring professionals. One leak can derail a major deal, damage your reputation, or result in massive legal fees and regulatory fines.

Don’t wait for a data breach to discover your office was compromised. Take action now — and stop espionage before it starts.

Key Takeaway

Modern corporate espionage is silent, hidden, and dangerous. But it’s not unstoppable. Bugs Sweeping Services help you find threats early, protect your conversations, and secure your competitive edge.

Combine regular bug sweeps with smart security policies and you can protect your company’s most valuable asset — your information.

Ready to protect what matters most? Explore UG2 Group’s Bugs Sweeping Services today.

FAQs

Q1: How often should companies schedule Bugs Sweeping Services? A: High-risk environments like boardrooms and executive offices should be swept at least quarterly — or before critical meetings and negotiations.

Q2: Can hidden bugs be detected when turned off? A: Yes. Professionals use advanced tools to find both active and dormant devices that DIY detectors miss.

Q3: Are Bugs Sweeping Services confidential? A: Absolutely. UG2 Group ensures complete discretion to protect your reputation and operations.

Q4: Is a DIY bug sweep enough for a small business? A: No. DIY tools often miss sophisticated or passive devices. Only a professional sweep delivers real peace of mind.

Q5: How can I get started with UG2 Group’s Bugs Sweeping Services? A: Visit UG2 Group Bugs Sweeping Services to book a private consultation today.

Stay secure. Stay protected. Stop corporate espionage before it happens — with UG2 Group.

[onemonitarsoftware]

Discover ONEMONITAR: The Ultimate Hidden Spy App for Android

Uncover the truth with ONEMONITAR, the hidden spy app engineered to discreetly monitor Android phones. With its stealth mode capabilities, ONEMONITAR operates covertly in the background, ensuring your monitoring activities remain undetected. Keep a close eye on target devices without arousing suspicion, thanks to ONEMONITAR's advanced features for tracking calls, messages, browsing history, and more. Stay in control and protect your loved ones or business interests with ONEMONITAR's unmatched hidden spy capabilities for Android.

[flwrkid14]

The Case of the Phantom Lipstick

Tim Drake is many things: a genius, a detective, a vigilante, a caffeine-dependent insomniac with abandonment issues and seventeen backup plans for every imaginable outcome.

What he is not, however, is delusional.

Which is why when he finds a kiss mark—an actual lipstick kiss mark—pressed to the inside of his favorite hoodie, he does not panic. He calmly, rationally, pulls the hoodie off, examines the fabric, and blames Steph. Probably Steph.

Except… it’s neon green. Not Steph’s color. Not Cass’s style either. Babs doesn’t do lipstick. Kon doesn’t own lipstick. And the only people who’ve been in his apartment recently are Bruce (definitely not), Damian (God, no), and Alfred (crime).

He throws the hoodie in the wash. Industrial cycle. Hot water. It should come out.

It doesn’t.

It doesn’t even fade.

It glows slightly under UV.

Okay. Fine. One hoodie. Maybe it’s old. Maybe he forgot something. Maybe he bought it that way.

But it happens again.

And again.

And again.

Old hoodies. New hoodies. Hoodies buried at the back of his closet that he hasn’t worn since he was sixteen. A hoodie still in the packaging, tags attached—he opens the bag and there’s a green kiss mark on the inside sleeve, like it’s been waiting for him.

They’re always placed differently. Sometimes hidden in the seam of a cuff. Sometimes pressed on the back hem. One tucked into the folds of a sleeve. One directly on the chest, over his heart.

He checks for tracking devices. Hidden ink. Sensors. Spoilers. Anything.

Nothing.

And it doesn’t stop with the hoodies.

One day, after a long patrol, he peels off his Red Robin gear and catches a glimpse of green near the collar of his suit. He freezes.

Another kiss mark. Same color. Right on the inside lining.

There’s one on his glove. One hidden under the fold of his utility belt pouch. One on the lining of his cape.

What’s worse? The Batcave scanners pick them up. There’s residual ectoplasm. Babs runs the data three times before looking at him like he’s either cursed or dating something from the beyond.

(He’s not. He’s pretty sure.)

Every attempt to investigate it fails. The cameras glitch. Video footage loops or scrambles. Laser grids are bypassed by something moving through walls. Magical wards short-circuit. Even Constantine shrugs when Tim reaches out.

“Strong liminal energy,” Constantine says, puffing a cigarette. “Someone’s got their spectral claws in you. Not a curse though. Feels like... courtship.”

“Courtship,” Tim repeats.

“Yeah. Spectral wooing. Ghost smooches. Congrats on your engagement, mate.”

Tim hangs up.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

Meanwhile, Gotham is experiencing what can only be described as “mild haunting.” But by Gotham standards, it’s barely a blip.

There are no mass possessions. No destructive battles. Just… ghosts. Hovering. Watching. Whispering things when Tim walks by. They show up at patrol spots. Float past his apartment. Some even drop cryptic notes: “May your union be fruitful,” and “Blessings upon the Chosen.” Occasionally they throw gifts at him. One leaves him a glowing thermos full of ghost flowers. Another—a floating knight in spectral armor—bows low while handing over a box of what Tim can only imagine is their version of chocolate, before vanishing with the words “For the chosen consort.”

Tim’s furious.

He’s not dating a ghost. He doesn’t know any ghosts. He doesn’t want to be courted by one.

...Probably.

Except.

Except sometimes, when he’s alone, he swears he feels someone there. Not threatening. Just present. A warmth in the air. A flicker in the corner of his eye. A soft sigh on the back of his neck. A whisper:

“Mine.”

And Danny Phantom—Protector of the Ghost Zone, King of the Infinite Realms, 100% a disaster bisexual—floats outside his window every other night with his face pressed against the glass like a cat trying to figure out if the human inside likes him.

Because Danny’s not trying to scare him! He’s just following tradition!

See, ghosts mark their chosen with energy. They ward off rivals. They court with gifts and blessings and acts of devotion. And yeah, maybe leaving lipstick marks on someone's battle gear is a little extreme, but Danny’s working with ghost etiquette, okay? And from where he's standing, no one's stopped him.

(Though Jason did try to stab him once. Danny considered it a bonding experience.)

Now Danny just needs Tim to say yes so the full wedding rite can be completed. The lipstick marks? Those are just... engagement placeholders.

The problem? Tim doesn’t know he’s essentially dating a ghost.

The bigger problem? Gotham’s ghosts do.

And they’re ready to throw hands with anyone who thinks they’re a better match for Tim Drake than the literal Ghost King himself.

Tim? He just wants one hoodie without magic lipstick on it. He’s not even asking for peace anymore. He just wants answers.

He’s so tired.

[ilovolderman]

Dinner Interrogation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Sam hosts a dinner to uncover the truth about you and Bucky’s relationship.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, lasagna, lie detector abuse

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". it doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8. thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

Sam Wilson was finished pretending.

Tonight, he was pulling out all the stops: Dinner. But not just dinner. A full-on sting operation with lasagna and lightly weaponized appetizers.

This wasn’t just a meal. This was war. Operation: Love Actually (But They're Lying).

"Casual, not suspicious" was the theme. He wore a turtleneck for authority. And the guest list? Handpicked for psychological pressure:

You (suspect #1)

Bucky  (suspect #2)

Sam (the host, investigator, and emotional wreck)

Natasha (because she lives for drama)

Tony Stark (for tech backup and snark)

Steve Rogers (for “dad energy” and moral guilt leverage)

And Peter Parker, who thought he was just invited for lasagna and board games.

The living room was dimly lit. The table was set. The lasagna was pre-ordered. And in the center of it all, hidden beneath an innocuous decorative centerpiece? A portable StarkTech lie detection device.

Sam checked it one more time. Still green. Still calibrated. Still ready to catch romantic criminals.

You arrived first. Oversized hoodie. Sleepy smile. Suspiciously content.

Sam narrowed his eyes. "That hoodie is two inches too long in the sleeves. EXHIBIT J."

Bucky arrived a few minutes later. Entered through the kitchen like this was a sitcom. Casual. Too casual.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Staggered entry,” he whispered to himself. “Classic deflection tactic.”

Steve gave Sam a look. “This is a friendly dinner, right?”

Sam didn't blink. “Oh, it’s friendly… to the truth.”

Dinner began.

You sat across from each other. Just far enough to look innocent. Close enough to smile at each other when no one was looking. Too choreographed. Too coordinated.

The lasagna was passed around like a peace offering. Peter asked three times if it had walnuts. (It didn’t. He still didn’t trust it.)

Then Sam stood.

“Game time,” he said with a smile that had war crimes energy. “We’re doing a little truth circle. Like spin-the-bottle but without the bottle. Or the fun. Or the spinning.”

Tony groaned. “Oh great, here comes summer camp counselor Sam.”

Steve frowned. “Is this really necessary?”

Natasha was already pouring herself wine. “Shhh. This is better than HBO.”

Beneath the table, the lie detector pulsed.

Sam began.

“Alright. Easy question. Bucky—ever been in love?”

Bucky gave a slow shrug. “Once or twice.”

Green.

 “Recently?” Sam pressed.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Define recently.”

“Within the last six months.”

Bucky just smirked. “Hard to say. Time’s a social construct.”

Still green.

Peter blinked. “This feels intense for lasagna night.”

Tony sipped his drink. “You have no idea.”

Sam clenched his jaw. “Right. Fine. You,” he pointed at you. “Same question.”

You looked positively angelic. “What, if I’ve been in love?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely.”

Green.

“Recently?”

You tilted your head. “In a cosmic sense?”

“IN THE LAST SIX MONTHS.”

You smiled. “Possibly.”

Green.

“Can i go next?” Peter asked

Sam ignored him. “Okay. Next question. Ever kissed someone who lives in this building?”

You and Bucky shared a brief glance.

Then, in perfect sync: “No comment.”

Green.

Sam nearly flipped the table. “WHY IS ‘NO COMMENT’ STILL GREEN?!”

Natasha actually laughed into her wine glass. “It’s calibrated to detect lies,” she said, sipping wine. “Not cheeky evasion.”

“Then they are hiding something!” Sam barked, pointing at you “That proves it!”

Bucky leaned back, arms crossed. “Proves we’re smart. Not guilty.”

You bit your lip to hide a smile.

Sam rounded the table. He pointed to your hoodie. “That is HIS hoodie.”

You raised your brows. “Is it?”

Bucky shrugged. “All hoodies look the same.”

Natasha muttered, “Lies. That’s his ‘Wednesday hoodie.’ I’ve seen him fold it.”

Sam snapped his fingers. “HA! COLLATERAL CONFIRMATION.”

You smiled serenely. “Or maybe we just do laundry on the same day.”

Peter whispered to Steve, “This is better than that time Vision tried to cook.”

Sam glared. “Alright. Final question. And I want both of you to answer. Clearly. Slowly. With eye contact.”

He paused for effect.

“Are. You. Dating.”

You both paused.

Then turned to each other.

Then to Sam.

And in the exact same deadpan voice: “No.”

Green.

Sam stared at the device. Then at you. Then at the ceiling. Then back at the device.

“I’ve been betrayed by science.”

Bucky leaned forward. “You okay, man?”

“No!” Sam snapped. “I’m living in a romantic Truman Show and none of you are helping!”

Tony patted his back. “Want some wine?”

“I want answers!”

From under the table, the lie detector shorted out with a sad little pop. Probably from emotional overload.

Peter leaned over to Natasha. “Do you think I could fake-date someone for this kind of dramatic energy?”

Natasha didn’t even look up. “You’d crack in three hours.”

You stood and stretched. “Well, this was enlightening. Thanks for dinner, Sam.”

Sam stood, pointing dramatically. “This isn’t over! You hear me? You can lie to the machine. But you can’t lie to me forever!”

Bucky stood too. “Wanna bet?”

You both started walking toward the door.

Sam pointed wildly. “They’re leaving at the same time!”

Peter: “So?”

Sam: “They didn’t come together!”

Natasha: “Neither did your sanity.”

The door closed behind you.

Sam collapsed into his chair.

Five steps out the door. You both broke. Laughter exploded between you like a popped balloon.

Bucky slung his arm over your shoulders as you leaned into him, giggling helplessly.

“That—” you wheezed, “—was actually cruel.”

He grinned, crooked and smug. “He’s going to short-circuit in his sleep.”

You gave him a sideways look. “The lie detector literally did.”

“Friday probably auto-filed it under 'emotional casualties.’”

You both collapsed into laughter again, and after a moment, he held out his hand with that familiar spark in his eyes.

“C’mon. Lets go to our spot.”

He led you up onto the building’s roof. The door creaked open and the city met you with open arms — the soft hum of traffic below, the wind gentle in your hair, and a sky stretched out like a quiet secret. The rooftop was empty, peaceful. The kind of place that felt like it belonged to you and no one else.

Bucky pulled off his hoodie and draped it over your shoulders without a word. You didn’t even protest, just slid your arms into the sleeves and hugged it close.

It smelled like him. Warm. Safe. You sat down against the low wall at the edge, legs stretched in front of you, and he sat beside you, one arm around your shoulders like it had every right to be there.

Silence settled between you again.  but the good kind. The kind that felt earned. Easy.

“I’m perfect,” you said after a while, answering the question he hadn’t yet asked.

Bucky turned his head toward you, a little surprised.

“I just… I don’t love pretending around them,” you admitted, looking out at the skyline. “I mean, I know we’re not lying. Not really. But… it kind of feels like we are. Like we’re sneaking out after curfew.”

He was quiet for a second. Then: “We don’t have to pretend forever.”

“I know.” You leaned your head on his shoulder. “But it’s also kind of fun.”

 “Very fun,” he agreed. “Especially when you get that smug look.”

You blinked up at him. “What smug look?”

He grinned. “That one. The one that says ‘we made out in the stairwell and Sam has no idea.’”

You groaned, laughing into his shoulder. “We are going to be the reason he needs therapy.”

“Worth it.”

Bucky leaned down and kissed your forehead. Then your nose. Then finally your lips—soft and lingering, like you had all the time in the world. His hand cupped your cheek as your fingers tangled in the hem of his shirt. When he pulled back, you stayed close.

“Think they’ll ever figure it out?” you whispered.

He looked at you like you were his whole world. “I kind of hope not.”

You laughed softly and leaned against him, your hand finding his, your fingers slipping into the spaces like they belonged there. Above you, stars peeked through the clouds, and below, the city buzzed on like it didn’t know your little secret.

From far below, through a cracked window, Sam’s voice echoed faintly into the night:

“FRIDAY, CROSS-REFERENCE EVERY PHOTO OF THEM FROM THE PAST YEAR. I WANT BLINK RATES. I WANT STANCE ANALYSIS. I WANT SHADOWS CHECKED FOR HAND-HOLDING.”

You leaned your head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “We’re safe.”

Back inside, Sam stood triumphantly at the whiteboard he had forcibly dragged into the living room, the wheels squeaking on the hardwood floor as if the entire house was questioning his sanity.

Natasha leaned lazily against the wall, wine glass in hand, her expression somewhere between bemused and concerned.

Peter and Steve were seated at the dining table, playing Scrabble — although Peter had already exhausted every single letter in his limited vocabulary to spell out variations of “Stucky.” (He was still trying to get “Stucky” onto the board despite Steve pretended not to know what it meant.)

Meanwhile, Tony, as usual, was on the couch, projecting photos into the air with what could only be described as a mix of disappointment and genuine curiosity. He flipped through a series of images with the skill of someone who had spent years perfecting the art of snooping.

"Okay," Tony said, clicking through the photos on his holographic display like a man on a mission. "Three feet apart in May. 1.7 feet apart in July. September? Clearly sharing one churro. No context. But I’m sure that was more than a snack.”

Sam scowled at the screen, scribbling furiously on the whiteboard like he was composing the next great espionage novel. “Okay, okay,” he muttered to himself, pulling down a string of yarn across various photos of you and Bucky, as if it was going to somehow solve the mystery. "I need a new plan. A better plan.”

Tony glanced over at him, the kind of look only someone who knew Sam for way too long could pull off. “What’s your next move? Secretly record their Netflix history and analyze their most-watched shows for clues?”

Sam paused for a moment, considering it. Then he snapped his fingers. “...Actually, that could work.”

Natasha slowly lowered her glass, an expression of disbelief dawning on her face. “Sam. You’re kidding, right?”

Sam stood back, “Get ready,” he said ominously. “This will work. I will finally know the truth.”

Natasha looked at the others with a half-smile, then back at Sam. “You’ve officially lost it.”

Tony nodded sagely, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth. “I feel like we should all start taking bets on whether Sam will completely implode by the end of this.”

Sam, grinning maniacally, “Let’s just see who cracks first.”

next part

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[cinnam0ngirlxo]

domestic bliss ✮

j. todd x ex-vigilante f!reader ... headcanons for when it's time to settle down

notes: lots of fluff, established relationship, you both are ex-vigilantes, reader and jason have known each other since robin days

✮ Jason loved having you as his girlfriend, but he had always dreamed of building a life with you, and having children... and he couldn't have that without popping the ring.

✮ He didn't follow Dick's advice— no boring ass sunset proposals or dinners. He proposed at home, while you both were reading (well, re-reading) your favorite romance novel. He knew that you were homebody like him, and that you didn't care for grand proposals. (and yes, it took him days to actually do it)

✮ The wedding is small and intimate; you two were lucky that your lives aren't as publicized like Bruce Wayne's. It was only really the Batfamily and a few other of your superhero friends (and of course, Lian as the flower girl <3)

✮You guys moved away from Gotham, because Jason didn't want to raise his future kids in a city that reeked of crime. Your new home was in a suburb about 45 minutes away from Gotham, just in case there was ever an emergency with the Batfamily

✮ The first thing you guys do right after moving in is buy a kitten. You didn't want to fuck up the whole parenting thing, so you guys decided you would take it in baby steps (that was the excuse you told him)

✮ Inside jokes are a big thing in your relationship. Come on, you guys have known each other since you were fourteen. Even years later, Jason will still find a way to reference Alfred's hidden toupee you guys once found 11 years ago in the basement.

✮ Leaving the vigilante life was hard at first, especially for Jason. he was so conditioned to think like a detective, to move like an assassin, and it was hard to turn his brain off.

✮ So he gets a job, and he does the only other thing he's ever known: fixing vehicles. The pay is nice, he supposes, and the rest of the guys are pretty friendly. You scold him when you see him doing background checks on all of his coworkers (you had tried, but you couldn't take the Red Hood out of him)

✮You were pretty much the same; once you had got your job as secretary at the HR office (Jason urged you to put your psychology degree to good use); you had turned over every electronic device in your office to see if it had been tapped.

✮ You both still had your vigilante costumes stored safely away in the basement of your home. Jason had always kept a gun under the floorboard of the bedroom (you didn't know), and you kept your stash of knives under the floorboard of the living room (he didn't know)

✮Your touch had grounded Jason, and that still hasn't changed. Even when you were out grocery shopping, his hand was always latched onto yours, a silent display of his affection

✮ You two have two little girls, named Elizabeth and Imogen, because you two are avid literature fans, and Elizabeth Bennet was one of Jason's favorite characters.

✮Jason dad is a girl dad to the max: he loves spoiling his little girls, to the point where you have to play bad cop because your husband just turns to mush when it comes to those two

✮He loves reading them books (even when they were in the womb), and I think he'd buy those classic literature books that are simplified for younger audiences

✮ Like just imagine Little Women or The Secret Garden being on your bookshelves, and having nightly readings where your daughters get to ramble about all the March sisters or wonder who's the boy that Mary keeps hearing in Mistlethwaite Manor

✮Bonus that when little Lizzy grows up, she ends up loving Pride and Prejudice

✮ Jason also loves to tell his girls stories about adventure you both had when you were both vigilantes, even pulling out the Red Hood helmet

✮ Your daughters idolized you even more when they found out you two were heroes, and started wearing your old outfits on the daily, playing "hero vs villain".

✮Jason recorded the entire thing, of course ;)

✮When your girls start elementary school, Jason loves to make a whole entrance when picking them up. He loves to pull up to the school in his motorcycle

✮Of course that leads to a herd of kids waddling over to him, admiring him and the motorcycle. He's pretty much earned street cred from a bunch of 5 year olds

✮You two also make sure to be affectionate in front of them, because he read once that it helps shows the kids what a healthy relationship should look like, and he doesn't want any of his girls ever being in any future toxic relationships

✮Both of you swear like a sailor, but you've learned to tone it down after the girls were born. Jason, however, has not.

✮ It's gotten to the point where Lizzy would call her Uncle Roy "asshole" just because that's what her daddy calls him

✮And Imogen is even worse: she once said 'fuck' out loud after tripping and falling in class, which had earned a phone call to you.

✮ "I don't know where she picks that stuff up. We don't swear here," You said into the phone as you glared at daggers at your husband, who just rubbed the back of his neck nervously

A/N: (not edited)

hey guys, i had sm fun writing this! i felt like writing jason some more, and i really believe that jason deserves his happy ending and i just don't think he would stay in gotham if he ever hung up the red hood mantle.

anyways should i write a part 2? i can't think of anything else to write rn but i'd love to write more about this

xoxo, maple <3

[heavenbarnes]

@abcdbleh you little beauty 🫶🏼 this is in the “cellular-device-universe” | p1 p2 p3 p4

you had managed an incredible feat, what with bringing your older bf!simon around to the idea of sex over the air waves.

you’d effectively achieved the impossible.

well, something you’d thought impossible given who he was as a person. some guy, simple guy, practical and not remotely interested in anything he doesn’t think worth his time.

that’s the thing- when it comes to you?

everything is worth his time.

you could tell him that you’d booked an all expenses paid couples trip to the fucking moon and he’d have your bags in the car before you’d even finished speaking.

he likes that look on your face when you’re happy.

you’d imagined that getting him to send you videos whilst he stroked his cock would be difficult, but now your hidden folder is bursting at the seams.

you had no idea how easy it’d be to have him send you photos in just his briefs, tattooed arm barely illuminated by low light as his large hand gripped himself through the fabric.

but here you were.

laid back in your bed, awfully roomy without a hulking great simon to take up three quarters of it, your phone was pressed to your ear.

“what y’mean, love?”

the deep, rolling rumble of his voice would probably do it if you tried hard enough. you could have him read the menu from the local chinese takeout and make do. he just had that effect on you.

“i mean- i want you to touch yourself and talk me through it, si”

you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, a stuttered little exhale and a crackle over the line. he was in the middle of nowhere (far as you were concerned) but he could still find it to keep you satisfied.

simon would never have you settle for less.

the quiet you could hear on his end wasn’t nerves, you knew him well enough to immediately detect- inexperience?

there was very little simon didn’t know how to do in the bedroom but bring any virtual factors (like a cellphone) and he just needed a couple directions.

he needed an order.

“si, i want to get off to your voice, the sound of you touching yourself- i want you to cum and i want to hear about it in excruciating detail”

you could hear how scratchy his military grade blanket was, woollen and likely older than you, being pushed down his body.

no shuffle of clothing, he was already stark naked in his cot. he’d been with rest of the 141 long enough, you just assume they’ve all seen each other in their entireties. sharing rooms, sharing showers.

you can’t think about that kind of thing too long. the implications that come with it.

the sound of simon spitting in his palm drags you out of steam filled visions, kyle asking your boyfriend for help getting his back, johnny watching wide-eyed but waiting for his signal.

anyway- anyways, the sound of his large palm dragging along his cock had you back in the present for good. you could almost picture the way his foreskin would be rolling down the head.

“already s’fuckin hard for you”

“i bet”

a bet that’d make you a billionaire.

you could count on simon for a lot of things but as sure as the sun rises in the east, that man would be hard for you.

you’d say a gentle breeze would do it. he’d say only if you were blowing.

cheek of him.

faint sounds, faint sounds of his hand tugging on himself but you needed more. you needed it fucking filthy and unmistakable across the line that he was doing one thing.

“more spit, si- need to hear it”

and you could, spit mixed with the leaking pre-cum that was running from his head. soon the sound was circling your eardrums as he worked up a steady rhythm.

“been lookin’ at y’little pictures”

deep sigh as he said it, like he was thinking back to you in compromising positions. you could almost see him with his eyes drifting shut, phone between his ear and shoulder whilst both hands preoccupied by his cock and balls.

“can’t hardly wait to get home to you”

as one hand stroked along his length, running his fingers over the head, the other would be cupping his heavy sack as he rolled them both in his palm.

“y’been teasing me, sweet’art”

large feet would be planted on the threadbare mattress, his thighs tensing the more he tugged himself off. you knew he’d be imagining you in his lap, doing all the work for him so he could focus on running his mouth.

“jus’y wait till i get m’hands on you”

your heart was in your throat with every word he said, you’d no doubt he’d stay true to his word. you had visions of him throwing the front door open and telling you to run.

finding you crawling across the bed to duck down the other side but his grip tightening around your ankle before you could get away.

you had to leave that feeling in the pit of your stomach before you got lightheaded but, as usual, simon knew you better.

“what’s goin’ on in that pretty head f’yours? thinkin’ about all the nasty things i’ll do t’you?”

a squeak of a moan slipped out of you, back arching in the bed as simon chuckled down the line. he always knew exactly what he was doing to you.

calculated man, comes with the territory.

“first thing i’m gonna’ do is stuff my cock in’y, got a couple’a loads saved up just f’you”

you couldn’t imagine how, all the filthy videos he’d been sending you. thick load after thick load spilt over his chest, his thighs, the shower drain.

but, then again, you’ve yet to find a thing he wouldn’t do for you.

“gonna’ keep y’in that fuckin’ bed till y’begging f’mercy”

you could hear it on his voice, the strain that was behind it. he was close, closer than ever but you couldn’t stop him once you got him going.

whenever he was on that precipice of bliss, the things that’d come out of his mouth could turn you inside out.

“gonna’ cum f’you, sweet’art- need you to-“

the blood was rushing so hard in your ears you nearly missed his words as they tapered off into broken moans. nearly missed.

“what d’you need, si? tell me, whatever you need it’s yours”

distant filthy sounds of a wet palm sliding along his cock was ever present in the background of the call. a long sigh drifted from his lips as he spoke.

“tell me t’cum, please”

jesus fucking christ.

there’s no coming back from the sound of simon riley begging.

“cum f’me, simon- need to hear you- make a mess f’me, baby”

the sound that left his chest was filthy, a deep groan intertwined with the sounds of cheap mattress springs. breathy stuttered moans broke through, your name a constant on the tip of his tongue.

he sounded desperate, no doubt still stroking himself even as his hips lifted off the cot. he wasn’t about making it easy on himself.

everything he did was for you.

listening as he rode it out, you could hear him still muttering between the other debauched sounds.

“fuckin’ take it, s’fuckin’ good f’me”

anther broken cry of your name only confirmed it. in simon’s eyes, he wasn’t pumping his cum across in his chest, he was pumping you full of it.

he’d gone too long without the feeling of you wrapped tight around him, only knowing the rough drag of his palm. he’d give anything to be in his bed, buried to the fucking hip in you.

simon’s breathing evened out, broad chest rising and falling with a sticky sheen across it. you could even make out the sound of his head hitting the pillow.

“fucking ‘ell, sweet’art- how was that?”

nothing if not an overachiever.

“perfect, si- you did absolutely perfect”

if he was with you he’d been keening into your touch, a soft side of him that only you were allowed to see.

softening further in his afterglow, you wrapped up with praises and promises to be waiting for him soon as he got home.

your entire body felt like it could sink through the mattress as you curled into his side of the bed, letting the scent of him overwhelm every part of you.

eyes shutting on their own, you’d nearly hit sleep when your cellphone buzzed on the bedside table. a little bleary eyed, you reached for it in the darkness.

“si sent a photo”

your heart sped up, teeth digging into your lower lip as you slide the message open. your screen went from light to dark in an instant.

thick thighs spread apart, toned barrel chest, tattooed arm, and a slightly scarred chin in the shot. in this light you could see it, so faint but still there, the streaks of cum dripping down the lines of his stomach.

the grip on your phone was so tight you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had shattered in your hands. in the corner of your screen, those three dots were taunting you.

your phone buzzed, you could almost hear it in his voice.

“could really do w’you here to clean me up, sweet dreams sweet’art”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Possibly but of a strange request but Charlie’s half blood partner explaining to his dad how planes fly and the function of a rubber duck?

I distinctly remember him asking at least one of these to Harry in the movies and it actually made me look up the answer as well lol

A/n: He did 🤣 , Arthur is so pure and adorable.

Arthur Weasley’s fascination with Muggle inventions knew no bounds, and as Charlie’s partner, you had long since accepted that part of your relationship meant answering his father’s never-ending stream of questions. Today, you found yourself in the Burrow’s kitchen, explaining two very different, yet equally perplexing, Muggle objects to Arthur—airplanes and rubber ducks.

Arthur sat across from you, eyes gleaming with excitement, as he eagerly leaned in. “Now, tell me again—how does a plane fly? There’s no magic involved, and yet it stays in the air?” His voice was filled with pure wonder, as if the concept itself was more impossible than dragons breathing fire.

You smiled, exchanging an amused glance with Charlie, who was barely holding back laughter. “Right, so airplanes rely on something called aerodynamics. The wings are designed in a special shape that helps create lift. When the engines push the plane forward, the air moves over and under the wings at different speeds. This difference in pressure makes the plane rise.”

Arthur gasped, gripping the edge of the table. “Fascinating! The air lifts it? But… how does it stay up? Surely it should fall at some point?”

“Well, as long as the engines keep providing thrust and the wings keep generating lift, it stays in the air,” you explained patiently. “Of course, when it needs to land, the pilot reduces the speed, and the plane comes down gently.”

Arthur’s mouth opened and closed, his brain clearly working overtime to process this completely non-magical feat. “Incredible. Utterly incredible! And you say Muggles travel in these all the time?”

Charlie finally spoke up, grinning. “Yeah, Dad. And they don’t even think twice about it.”

Arthur shook his head in pure amazement before his expression shifted into one of equal seriousness. “And… what of the rubber duck? What function does it serve?”

You stifled a laugh, having expected this question at some point. “Well… it doesn’t really do anything. It’s just a bath toy for children. You know, something to make bath time fun.”

Arthur frowned deeply, as though this answer troubled him on a profound level. “So… it has no purpose?”

Charlie groaned playfully, rubbing his face. “Dad, you’ve asked this for years, and the answer hasn’t changed.”

“But surely,” Arthur insisted, eyes darting between you and Charlie, “there must be some hidden use. Perhaps a clever storage device? A method of detecting magical interference? A secret message carrier?” He looked utterly scandalized at the idea that Muggles would create something purely for fun.

You chuckled, reaching over to pat his hand. “I promise you, Arthur—it’s just a toy.”

Arthur sat back, still looking dubious, as if he refused to believe Muggles would make something with absolutely no practical function. After a moment, he sighed dramatically. “Muggle ingenuity never ceases to amaze me. Planes that defy logic and ducks with no purpose. Truly, they are a remarkable people.”

Charlie burst out laughing, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’ll never convince him, love. Just accept it.”

You grinned, shaking your head as Arthur Weasley sat back, utterly delighted by the mysteries of the Muggle world, even if some of them would always remain completely beyond his comprehension.

[m-robinavitch]

the interrogation.

Pairing: Sammy Bryant x Reader, SLIGHT Ben Sherman x Reader (blink and you miss it) Summary: Pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, you find yourself in an interrogation room with two cops. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, role play, sex as negotiation, drug mentions, general cop meanness

It was late, you were tired, and you were so fucking annoyed because you were pulled out of bed for this? Two fucking cops staring over at you in the poorly lit, freezing interrogation room asking you about something they knew you had nothing to do with. 

“You don’t mind if we record this conversation, do you?” The younger of the two asked, Officer Sherman, you think. You just shrug, not meeting his eyes because they’re going to do what they want regardless of what you say. The officer presses record and the ancient fucking device whirs to life- the reels start to spin and where the fuck did they even find that relic?

“Now, we appreciate you coming down here so late.” The older of the two speaks- sitting back in the chair that’s slightly too small for him and throws his elbow over the backrest. They were both fucking attractive and knew it, but this one seems like he’s used to his charm getting him to where he needs. 

“It didn’t seem like I had a choice, Officer Bryant.” You crossed your arms, titling your head while you answered his question because you were woken up abruptly for this. You were literally only clad in your nightgown that was too thin and a cardigan that barely provided any warmth. 

“It’s Detective.” He spit back, rank was important to him, “and we like to give people the benefit of the doubt here. At first anyway.” You could feel the way his eyes trailed over you, the neckline of your nightgown was way too fucking low and he let his gaze wander over the skin that was uncovered and bare for him.

“What’s this about?” You asked, looking over to Officer Sherman now- maybe he’d like to get to the fucking point.

“Uh- um Wednesday night. Hospital pharmacy inventory shows that two vials of fentanyl were missing. Now those are high security clearance drugs- that were logged under your access code.” Sherman never handled interrogations before, but Bryant decided what better way to learn than diving in head first when the precinct was practically empty- he was here if the kid needed help.

“I never touched them.” You quickly said- too quickly. Fuck, you had to relax.

“You were the only nurse on that floor with that security clearance. And the pharmacy was suspiciously empty around that time- not even the cameras caught anyone.” Bryant spoke now, taking the papers from Sherman so he could look and make sure he was on the right track here. 

“Someone must have used my code,” you shrugged again, not backing down now. “I’ve been there for 5 years- never had an issue before.”

“Codes just don’t go floating around on their own, sweetheart,” Oh? Sweetheart were you? Detective Bryant tosses the folder in front of you now, lets it slide across the cold metal table while he leans forward and lets his forearms rest along with them, “now of course my partner and I looked into you- last month your supervisor had you under review for some discrepancies in your medication counts.” You tensed, eyes darting between the men because they had you pinned now. 

“Those discrepancies were corrected. Clerical error.” Your voice wavered slightly, but you held your head up as you anxiously bit your lip to help the nerves. 

“Clerical errors don’t walk out the door in vials that are worth $2,000 on the street.” Detective Bryant cut off your words, the lies he could see forming behind those pretty little eyes- hidden behind thick lashes that he’d probably have a problem saying no to. Officer Sherman watched his superior work, watched how he took the lead now- how he had you awkwardly adjusting in your chair and trying to cover yourself up with that cardigan that did nothing to hide your figure. 

“You think I’m fucking selling?” 

“You tell me sweetheart,” the detective shrugged, picking up the folder again, thumbing through the papers and- “you’ve got the access, knowledge of the protocol, and the debt.” Your eyes widened. Fuck.

“E-everyone has debts.” You swallowed heavily. 

“Not everyone lies about their whereabouts during a 15 minute blank period.” He was cold. Stone cold and harsh and the only thing you can focus on was the way his hazel eyes trailed over you again. 

“I was in the break room. No cameras to see me.” Focus. Don’t let him get to you. 

“Convenient.” Sherman speaks again, wetting his lips lightly with his tongue, stopping at the way you anxiously toyed at the necklace that dipped between your breasts, wedding ring catching the only overhead light of the now seemingly stuffy interrogation room.

“If I wanted to fucking steal, Detective Bryant, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to use my own login.” Frustrated- frustrated and nervous so you lash out like you usually do and-

“You know what’s interesting, we pulled the access codes from the staff entrance and- well you said you were in the break room but your badge was scanned at the east stairwell door around that time. Not the break room like you say.” Bryant’s eyes never left yours, titling his head only slightly but he leaned back again and nodding along with his own words like he’s made his mind up about you already.

“The door sticks, everyone knows that and the scanner catches wrong sometimes.” You were not going down for this. 

“Except, we crossed checked that sweetheart,” Bryant stands now, “with the elevator scans?” He’s walking around the table to come in front of you- to sit on the table and block the light from you and- “no one else was on the floor when it happened. Just you. And we found some latex gloves in the stairwell trash, no prints but some traces of fentanyl residue.” You didn’t want to look up at him, you kept your eyes focused on that folder in front of him- trying to will whatever damning evidence they had against you to disappear. 

“That doesn’t prove that it was mine.” You needed to stay calm. You needed to breathe. In. Out. They had nothing. Circumstantial at best. 

“No- but it was your locker that had a box of gloves that don’t match the ones the hospital orders, the same brand and size from the stairwell trash.” Less circumstantial.

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say.” You were visibly tense, it was getting hotter in the room now and you shrugged off your cardigan to get some ventilation on your body. 

“I want the truth sweetheart,” Detective Bryant came off the table now, kneeling in front of you so you’re almost eye level and you look behind him at Officer Sherman who had leaned in to watch his partner work. “You’re not a hardened criminal.” He shakes his head, almost condescendingly and his voice changes from gritted and angry to- soft and pleading. “You’re married, never been arrested, not even so much as a speeding ticket- maybe, maybe you made a choice. Maybe you were helping someone? Frankly I don’t care why you did it- I care about the kid that OD’d last night- who toxicology said had hospital grade fentanyl in his system- same brand that was missing from your hospital.” One of his large hands comes to rest on your thigh, thumb stroking along your skin while his words come out- almost rehearsed. “Officer Sherman- give me a minute with our friend here. She might be a bit nervous about having two cops in here.” Ben pauses, swallowing a bit but nods and stands to comply with his superior. Detective Bryant waits until the door shuts but he knows Ben is watching behind the glass. A few moments pass, his eyes don’t leave yours, thumb still stroking and his other hand rests on the edge of the table next to you- effectively caging you in.

“It’s not on me, I didn’t- I didn’t give anything to anyone.” Your lip quivered, shaking your head and looking down at the ring along your finger, running your thumb along the smooth metal to calm yourself and- he takes your hand.

“We’re past denial now sweetheart,” shaking his head, stooping his head down to make sure your eyes meet his, “what comes next is cooperation. Help us. And the DA might listen, but if you don’t tell me the truth then- you’re looking at felony charges. Theft, possession, intent to distribute, murder-” Wait- no. You didn’t- you didn’t murder anyone. You absolutely didn’t- no. 

“I didn’t kill anyone,” you panic, standing and ripping away from him as you start to pace the small room. They can’t pin this on you. They can’t. This wasn’t even your idea and you just went along with what you were told and- “I want a lawyer.” You say- watching as Detective Bryant stands and nods, considering what you say. He hears Ben knock on the glass. Lawyered up? Get out of the room. But- Sammy has never been one to follow the rules anyway.

“That’s fine sweetheart, you get a lawyer but-” he comes around the table again, stopping in front of you- hand resting on the table and making you look up at him. “I can’t help you if you hide behind your lawyer. If I walk out that door then we’re done here.” Sammy didn’t move, Ben wants to knock again because if Sammy doesn’t leave then they’re fucked. Lawyer? Leave. That’s the way it goes. But you were biting your lip and look up at him and- 

“Help me. Please detective I- I don’t want to go to jail.” You begged, putting your hands on his chest and looking up at him like he would be your savior. “I’ll do anything. Please I can’t- I’ll lose my job if this gets out. My husband will find out and- my reputation. I can’t have this happen to me.” You could convince him. You could convince the detective to let you off if you just gave them all the information they asked and even the next drop off location and time. But you couldn’t go down for this. 

“You have to talk to the DA, there will most likely be a trial and-”

“No!” You cut him off, pushing forward and your faces are inches apart, “please- no I’ll- I’ll tell you everything. I’ll do anything Detective Bryant- anything if you make this go away.” He swallows- hard. From this angle he can see down your nightgown and- fuck. You see the way he looks at you, the way he flushes when his eyes drop down your neck and maybe you could- maybe there’s a way out of this? Your hands slowly drag themselves down his chest, not breaking eye contact and see his face flush again.

“I- I can’t promise that-” his focus breaks, his mouth waters because you’re fucking gorgeous and your hands stop at his belt now, “I can’t promise that it’ll go away for you. Th-there’s, um, a process and- and-” Fuck. Sammy stops, eyes closing as you lean up to kiss his jaw. He- he can’t do this. He can’t let you off because you’re kissing him, sighing against his skin with little nips and your small hands work at his belt. Fuck- was Ben seeing this? He knew he was, he can feel his partner’s gaze from behind the glass and-

“It’ll feel good Detective Bryant,” you whisper, dragging his zipper down and smiling to yourself when you feel how hard he is. “I’ll make you feel so good.” Sammy had to close his eyes, bite his fucking lip from moaning out loud because your hands are pulling his shirt from it’s tucked in position and slipping into the waistband of his boxers and- fuck your hands are soft. He lets out a choked off breath- hand coming down the grip the edge of the table because it feels so fucking good. The way your fingers haven’t even done much other than swipe your thumb along the slit, collecting the bit of dripping pre-cum there and- he remembers where he is. Remembers who he is and steps back- grabbing your wrist now and you’re fucking smirking at him. 

“I can’t- that’s not, this isn’t-” he’s a good cop, he can’t let himself get lost in a pretty girl with a wicked smile who’s fucking licking her lips now and dropping to her knees in front of him. He takes a few steps back, coming to bump into the table and you’re fucking crawling to him now with a devilish smile- fucking hell he can’t breathe. You pull his pants down to his knees and-

“Do you want me to stop Detective Bryant?” You whisper again, looking up at him through thick lashes as you toy with the fabric at his thigh. No. No he didn’t want you to fucking stop. Your mouth looked fucking heavenly and you were all but begging and- he shakes his head, no. You drag his boxers down his thigh, moaning at the way his cock springs up to slap against his stomach and- oh he was big. His cock was big and thick and leaking already and you could tell he needed a warm mouth to cum in. Well- might as well serve him while he protects. You shuffle a bit closer, knees coming to rest alongside his feet and you push his buttoned shirt up, giving you view and access to his cock and you give it a slow, soft lick- starting from the base and coming to the tip. 

“Oh fuck me-” He groans, gripping the table with both hands so he doesn’t get the urge to tug you by your hair and use it to hold you while he fucks your mouth. No. No he fucking needs to relax. But it’s so hard to relax when after a few experimental licks, you swirl your tongue around the tip and over the slit to taste what has collected, moaning at the act and smiling when his breathing gets harder. Again, taking the tip between your lips, swirling your tongue and just barely sucking the tip this time as you drag your nails down his shaking thighs. Deeper, just to mid shaft you suck, letting your tongue rest flat along the bottom of him while he’s in your mouth and his groans just make you more eager- that you’ve got him now. Sammy whines when you stop, when your mouth is no longer enveloping his cock but now it’s your hand- slowly dragging up and down his cock while you kiss and suck marks along his thighs. Your touch is so much better than his own, hands warm and small- gentle strokes of him while murmuring praise against his thigh about how big he is, how you’ve never had someone so big in your mouth, how good he tastes and that- you want him to cum in your mouth. That one gets him- makes him see stars and he can’t stop himself from thrusting into your fist because he feels an embarrassingly quick orgasm swelling in his gut. Fuck he can’t cum too fast- but your lips are around him again. You take him deeper into your mouth and your nose is against his stomach, hands coming to grab Sammy by the backs of his thighs to keep him there while you swallow around him and he lets out a string of moans and curses when he empties his load down your throat. He’s breathing hard, panting and slumped against the table but you’re smiling, wiping your mouth and he grabs you by your arm to pull you up into him, kissing you deeply- tongue shoved between your lips so he can taste himself mixed with you, nothing moaning into each other. 

Fuck- he needs to be inside you but he has to wait. Sammy picks you up to sit on the table, shoving himself to stand between your open legs and smiles when you gasp against his lips. He can feel how wet you are, you came to the fucking precinct with no panties on and he’s dying right now- praying he gets hard again soon so he can bury himself deep inside your wet pussy and fuck you into this table. But for now, he’ll settle for dragging his hands along your body, palming at your breasts that are fucking threatening to spill over out this damn nightgown that is practically sheer. He drags it down, lets your breast spill out and catches it with his mouth. Your chest heaves into his mouth, hand coming up to thread into his hair now and tug at his auburn curls so you can get him to suck or bite or something. Fuck he’s going to leave marks, marks you can’t hide and-

“You gonna let me fuck you?” He mumbles, grinding himself into your bare cunt- slowly feeling his cock start to stir again but not quite ready to shove inside you just yet. His fingers will do. His fingers that glint in the light from the wedding ring on his finger and slowly push inside you. Thick. So fucking thick and deliciously perfect- dragging across your walls to where you gasp in his ear, nodding because you’re definitely letting him fuck you. Even if you weren’t staring down the barrel of jail time you’d let him fuck you. He drags his fingers slowly inside you, letting you feel every ridge and his fucking ring while he pumps them slightly faster now as he takes your nipple into his mouth- feeling you clench around his fingers while his thumb starts to circle your clit and- “you get this wet from sucking me off sweetheart?” 

“Y-yes,” you nod weakly, grinding into his hand now because you feel that swell of ecstasy begin its way through your body- feel the heat dance along your nerves. You’re close. How are you so fucking close already?

“Can my partner watch, sweetheart?” Fuck you almost forgot he was behind the glass. You turn back, obviously not able to see him but you smirk, turning back to the detective in front of you who’s fingers are shoved so fucking far inside you and working fast now you gasp a choked off ‘yes’. Sammy smiles, looking in front of him to the mirror and he knows Ben wants to see your face- so he pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt and kisses your whining lips while he picks you up to move around the other side of the table now. Half hard, achingly so but he knows this will get him ready to fuck you- kneeling in front of you and dragging the other side of your nightgown down so you’re fully revealed to Ben. “Can I taste you?” Sammy is on his knees, kissing your ankle and nipping along the skin as he trails his lips up your leg. You whine a pathetic little ‘please’ to him as he sucks marks against your inner thighs- his curls tickling the sensitive skin there while shoving his shoulders under your knees and pushing the hem of your dress to bunch up around your waist. “So fucking eager- does your husband even fuck you enough?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond- just drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit, circling around once before dipping back down to start over. 

“Fuck!” You scream and clenching your thighs around his head while one hand grips the edge of the table, the other finding solace in the curls at the top of his head- trying to be gentle but his tongue feels so fucking good. And he moans when he tastes you- moans into your wet cunt and the vibrations have you pull him by his hair into you deeper so you can grind for more friction. It’s almost not enough. You want him inside you so bad, you want him to fuck you hard into this fucking table and want his partner to watch. But his tongue slowly circles your clit and he moans again before laving at your entrance and pushing between your folds to settle as deep as he could inside your walls. Oh. Oh fuck. The hand that wasn’t gripping his hair for dear life reaches to grab his that’s at your thigh- pulling it to settle on your breast and give some sensation to help your orgasm along. The cold metal of his ring soothes the sting of the marks he had left, this thumb toying with your nipple while he tongue fucks your orgasm from you. It’s wet, hot, and forceful when it slams into your body all at once like a train. You bite your lip, tasting blood to stop yourself from crying out his name when his tongue doesn’t stop but keeps slowly licking into you- helping you ride out your orgasm. 

“You okay?” He stands, kissing your neck and collarbone and he’s hard enough now that he can drag the tip of his now fully hard cock along your wet sensitive folds- smirking to himself because you can’t reply with a coherent response but you grab his hip to hold him still against your entrance to teasingly angle your hips back and forth so the tip can just notch at your entrance over and over again. 

“Fuck me Detective- now.” You’re breathless, but your hold on his hip doesn’t waver- you’re almost pulling him into you and your mouth falls open in a silent cry because his cock is thick and heavy and pushes into your pussy with resistance from just his fucking size no matter how wet you were. Fuck it was perfect, so deliciously perfect that you can’t even remember your fucking name- only know the feeling of him teasing back and forth into your heat with slow little thrusts. You need to enjoy this- it may be the last time you get to have sex in a while because he can’t promise you won’t actually do time but if the last orgasm was anything to go off of then you’ll be seeing stars soon enough. He’s fully seated in you, throbbing and pulsing inside you but he gives himself a moment to kiss your soft lips- licking his way into your mouth to swirl his tongue around yours while pulling out so unfairly slow. Slow- that you can feel every vein and even the ridge where the tip meets his shaft and he’s almost pulling out of you that when you go to protest he slam back inside you so forcefully it has the table drag an inch or two forward from it. 

“This what you needed? To be fucked hard?” He groans in your ear, burying his face in your neck and wills himself to not cum too fast again. “You would’ve confessed anyway huh? Didn’t need my cock to convince you?” The only sound inside the room was the soft drag of the table along the floor, the slap of Sammy’s hips into your own, and your breaths mixing together- panting and shaking moans because he’s fucking you withing an inch of your sanity and- the glass. The mirror where you watch how hard he’s pounding into your tight pussy- behind that mirror Officer Sherman is watching you. Watching you get split open by his partner's cock and- you know you can’t see him but you like to think you’re making eye contact with him, smiling so he can see how good this feels. Smiling at yourself really- dragging your nose along Sammy’s neck with your lips and tongue closely followed behind. With the remnants of your last orgasm still swimming along in your mind- you feel another start to claw its way back up your spine. 

“I’m- fuck, I’m gonna cum again,” you whine, silently begging him to give you another orgasm before you start thinking clearly about how bad this is. How bad fucking a detective in the interrogation room is- cutting yourself a deal and using sex as a leverage for your own survival. You try to tell yourself that this is bad, clinging onto him tighter and your ring stares at you- reminding you that your bed is shared. That you greet someone everyday- kiss them every morning and every night. This is so bad. But he hitches your leg higher above his hip, letting it rest in his arm while he shoves himself deeper. “D-don’t stop.” You were close- and a violent orgasm is exactly what you need to stop your mind from going through just how bad this was. 

“He definitely doesn’t fuck you enough,” Sammy spits out, eagerly hammering into you and loving the way each thrust has you gasping out while you clench around him. Oh yeah- you’re fucking close. “Been neglected sweetheart? That why you’re so happy to confess? Need rewarding?” He sounds almost condescending, gritting his teeth to concentrate on his words but not letting his pace falter. Each thrust shoves himself deeper- pushing up to force your lungs out the way to make room for his cock. He sounds so mean and rough but his kiss was loving- melting his lips with yours, letting his tongue trail into your mouth and you just let him. You’re too fucked out to do little more than moan and whimper. Your orgasm is fast approaching and you have just enough sense to pull away from the kiss to stare back into the mirror as you cum. Hard. Sickeningly hard that it’s almost devastating and if Sammy wasn’t in front of you then you’d slide off this fucking table and melt into the a puddle into the floor. Your pussy spasms and clenches around him, milking his cock for a few more thrusts before you give his curls a firm tug to crash your lips into his. That was it. That was the literal pull he needed before he pumps once more- cumming hard and emptying himself as deep as he can go inside you. Shared panting, mouths agape and not even able to remember how to kiss but you feel him throb inside you as he finishes cumming so hard he’s sure he had a stroke at that last moment. 

“Good?” Sammy asks, pressing his forehead into yours after mouthing mindlessly at your lips and jaw. He’s always concerned with making you feel good- even if he can feel how wet he’s made you or how hard you’ve dug your nails into him- Sammy needs to hear it. He doesn’t like when you just nod- no he wants words. 

“Mhm,” catching your breath, wincing when he sets your leg down on the cold table under you, “it’s always good.” You smile up at him, capturing his lips in yet another bruising kiss. You blush now- no longer too horny to care about your state as you adjust your nightgown back over your chest and push the fabric back over your legs once Sammy pulls himself out of you. Fuck- he’s going to be dripping out of your the entire way home. He doesn’t move to grab your forgotten cardigan from the chair- shrugging off his suit jacket to wrap around your shoulders so give you a moment of modesty. “Think Ben is still alive back there or?” You giggle after Sammy tucks his shirt back into his pants, looking back to the mirror when he walks over to the intercom and presses the speaker button. 

“You good man?” Sammy asks, smiling back at you when a weak ‘y-yeah’ follows heavy breaths from the speaker- poor Ben. Always dragged into whatever stupid idea Sammy had. But it was an idea that Sammy had tossed around a while ago and how can you deny your husband on his birthday? Because what man doesn’t like the way his wife is lusted after- watching the way Ben has trailed his eyes up and down your body a time or two gave him the idea. Now he didn’t want you to be touched by someone else- no Sammy would break their jaw. But knowing Ben had his hand wrapped around his own cock while watching Sammy fuck you? That was the best present ever. “He’ll be fine.” Sammy came back to you, cupping your face in his large hands while you whispered a soft ‘happy birthday’ to him. He was lucky most of the precinct had gone home already- a few night shift officers were at their desks but typing away on a report or two and the interrogation room was far enough away that he was sure no one would hear you or pay attention to you really. 

”Where the fuck did you even find that thing?” You laugh when Sammy reaches over you to turn off the recorder- taking the tape out of the deck and bopping you on the nose with it lightly before shoving it in his back pocket. Definitely one to listen to later. 

“Sherman found it in the basement,” Sammy says while you help him with his belt, fixing the metal police badge to clip on straight and adjusting his tie- giving it a yank to draw him in closer to you for another kiss.

“Give him the tape- I think he earned it.” You smile against Sammy's lips when you feel him pout. Maybe it was a sick ‘thank you’ from you- for watching your husband’s back all the time. Making sure he comes back home to you in one piece. You reach in Sammy’s back pocket to retrieve the tape and hold it up to the glass for Ben to see. 

“Come get it before I change my mind-” your husband grumbles against your kiss, hearing the door open as Ben rushes in to grab the tape from your hand while you toss him a wink. “Go get the car Sherman.” You smack Sammy for being mean- he gets a little possessive, he’s been sated and fucked and can think properly and doesn’t want his partner seeing his wife with barely anything on anymore. “Lemme get you a sweatshirt and I’ll take you back home okay baby?” There was no way he was walking you out this precinct covered in marks from his lips and your nightgown so low your tits threaten to spill out with every move you make- his favorite one that you wear to bed, the one that doesn’t ever stay on the entire night. The fucking things you do for your husband- but how do you say no to charming hazel eyes and a sweet dimple when he smiles like he knows he’s devilishly handsome?

Everyone thank Ty @velvetmel0n for listening to my random thoughts and sometimes idiot checking my fics for me

[unboundprompts]

Hey! Weird request, but do you have prompts for how science and maths could be used in magic scenarios to gain the upper hand and make a battle much easier? So far all I have is using infrared glasses to see an invisible warrior

Science and Math in Magical Battle Scenarios

-> feel free to edit and adjust as you see fit.

Angles of reflection can amplify protective spells. You can design a series of intricate mirrors arranged in a geometric pattern to reflect and amplify your magical shields against an incoming attack.

A sound dampening cloak that absorbs sound waves, making the wearer nearly silent. Using principles of acoustics, the cloak allows the user to sneak up on opponents or escape unnoticed, enhancing stealth tactics during combat.

Sound Waves as Weapons. Combining musical abilities with sound frequency analysis, you can use math to calculate the exact frequency that can disrupt an enemy's concentration or shatter magical barriers, crafting a powerful song that acts as both a weapon and a shield.

A handheld device that scans the environment for various wavelengths of light, allowing the user to see through illusions, detect hidden magical traps, or analyze the composition of materials around them.

Calculating Gravity's Pull. Using physics to modify gravity around a battlefield. By calculating gravitational pull with equations, you can create zones where enemies feel heavy and sluggish, while allies feel lighter and faster, turning the tide of battle.

Using chemistry to concoct volatile mixtures that create spectacular distractions or devastating explosions. By carefully measuring ingredients and employing magical runes, you can cause reactions to target specific enemy units.

Employing concepts from quantum mechanics to create portals that allow you to teleport around the battlefield instantly. By calculating the right coordinates based on your enemies’ positions, you can dodge attacks and reposition themselves strategically.

A small device that releases a swarm of nanobots capable of repairing injuries or armor in real-time. The nanobots can also serve offensive purposes, overwhelming an enemy or disabling their technology.

Light Manipulation. Combine the principles of optics with magic to bend light, creating illusions or cloaking yourself and your allies from view. By understanding how light refracts and reflects, you can create a battlefield advantage by confusing your enemies.

A headset that uses artificial intelligence to analyze an opponent’s movements in real-time. By processing data on their fighting style, it predicts their next moves, providing the user with tactical insights and a chance to counter effectively.

A grenade that emits a short burst of electromagnetic energy, disabling electronic devices and magical constructs in its radius. It could be used to thwart technologically enhanced enemies or disrupt their magical defenses.

[ug2group]

Bugs Sweeping vs. Corporate TSCM Services: What’s the Difference and Why Both Matter

In today’s hyper-connected world, information is one of your most valuable assets — and one of the easiest to steal if you’re not vigilant. Boardrooms, private offices, luxury homes, and vehicles are prime targets for covert surveillance devices. From hidden cameras to secret microphones, threats to your privacy are more common than most people think.

That’s why smart business decision-makers and security-conscious professionals turn to two critical services: Bugs Sweeping and Corporate TSCM Services. While they sound similar, they play distinct roles in protecting your privacy. Knowing the difference — and when to use both — can mean the difference between secure operations and devastating leaks.

What Is Bugs Sweeping?

Bugs Sweeping is the process of detecting and locating hidden surveillance devices such as microphones, covert cameras, GPS trackers, and wireless transmitters. A professional bug sweep uses specialized tools to scan physical spaces for suspicious signals, frequencies, and devices that shouldn’t be there.

Businesses often request bugs sweeping for:

Executive offices and boardrooms

Hotels and offsite meeting venues

Private homes and apartments

High-profile events or VIP areas

Luxury vehicles and aircraft

The goal is simple: find any unauthorized device that could compromise your conversations, data, or privacy.

What Are Corporate TSCM Services?

Corporate TSCM Services (Technical Surveillance Countermeasures) take bugs sweeping to the next level. They include not only the physical sweep but also a complete risk assessment, surveillance detection, and expert recommendations to prevent future breaches.

A professional bug sweep is often just one step within a full TSCM strategy. A Corporate TSCM program includes:

In-depth inspections using advanced equipment

Technical monitoring for hidden or passive devices

Assessment of IT and network vulnerabilities

Detailed documentation and legal-grade reports

Ongoing surveillance detection and prevention strategies

While bugs sweeping can be a one-time service, Corporate TSCM is an ongoing program designed to secure your spaces and adapt to evolving threats.

Why Both Matter for Modern Businesses

Some companies think a quick bugs sweep is enough. But surveillance threats are constantly evolving. Hidden devices can be cleverly disguised, powered off, or embedded within electronics — making them hard to find with a basic sweep alone.

Here’s why both services matter:

Bugs Sweeping: Essential for immediate detection of hidden devices in a specific location.

Corporate TSCM Services: Provide broader, long-term protection through regular inspections, advanced countermeasures, and continuous monitoring.

For business leaders, relying on only one approach leaves gaps in your security. Together, these services ensure you stay ahead of corporate espionage, data leaks, and privacy threats.

DIY vs. Professional Bug Sweep: What’s at Risk?

Some companies attempt a DIY bug sweep using cheap detectors or smartphone apps. But here’s the problem: consumer-grade tools can only detect simple signals — they often miss advanced devices, hidden transmitters, or passive bugs that don’t broadcast at all.

Professional bug sweep teams, like UG2 Group, use military-grade equipment and expert techniques to locate even the most sophisticated threats. More importantly, our specialists know exactly where to look — in furniture, light fixtures, cables, and electronics.

DIY sweeps may create a false sense of security. If you miss a hidden bug, the consequences can be severe:

Leaked boardroom decisions

Compromised legal negotiations

Stolen trade secrets

Damaged reputations and legal exposure

Who Needs Bugs Sweeping and Corporate TSCM Services?

These services aren’t just for large corporations. They protect:

CEOs, board members, and senior executives

Startups developing sensitive IP

Legal and compliance officers

Celebrities, HNIs, and public figures

Journalists and whistleblowers

Anyone with a privacy risk

Whether it’s a critical M&A discussion or a private family conversation, hidden surveillance can strike anywhere.

Why Choose UG2 Group for Bugs Sweeping and TSCM

At UG2 Group, we combine the power of professional bug sweeping with comprehensive Corporate TSCM Services. Our highly trained experts use industry-leading equipment and proven processes to detect, neutralize, and prevent surveillance threats.

We protect offices, homes, vehicles, aircraft, yachts, and even temporary event spaces. Every inspection is discreet, thorough, and tailored to your unique risks.

Key Takeaway

Protecting your privacy isn’t a one-time job. Bugs Sweeping finds hidden threats today; Corporate TSCM Services safeguard your spaces tomorrow. Together, they form a powerful shield against eavesdropping, corporate espionage, and privacy breaches.

When your reputation, competitive edge, and personal safety are on the line, trust the experts. Don’t settle for shortcuts — secure your spaces the right way.

Ready to protect what matters most? Explore our Bugs Sweeping Services today.

FAQs

Q1: Is bugs sweeping enough to protect my office? A: Bugs sweeping is a great first step, but without ongoing TSCM, new threats can reappear. A regular Corporate TSCM program ensures long-term protection.

Q2: How often should a business schedule a professional bug sweep? A: High-risk areas like boardrooms should be checked quarterly or before sensitive meetings. High-profile individuals may need monthly inspections.

Q3: Are DIY bug detectors reliable? A: Basic detectors can spot simple signals but often miss advanced, passive, or well-hidden bugs. A professional bug sweep with expert technicians is far more reliable.

Q4: How discreet is the process? A: 100% discreet. UG2 Group conducts every inspection confidentially, protecting your business, staff, and reputation.

Q5: How do I start with UG2 Group? A: Visit UG2 Group Bugs Sweeping Services to schedule a private consultation with our surveillance detection experts.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

In a Lovesick AU, where yanderes are a known part of society, and darlings/bbys are as well, working like A/B/O with being a gender... Imagine Reader hides they're a bby.

They're this random teen or young adult who is tired constantly, does side jobs amd odd tasks to earn money, drinks coffee and sugar to stay awake and alert, and struggles to function amongst others. Reader is able to pass themself off as a yandere, just barely, due to having OCD and using that as a shield between anyone who suspects them. Reader is friends with the teens, and does their best to get along with the adults, as well as most of the school and it's students and faculty. This leads to Reader being well-liked by most, who have a respect for them, someone who seems to try and help others and has no hidden agenda, and someone who respects boundaries, and who leave everyone to their own devices...

What Reader doesn't know is this leads the yanderes and yanlings (baby/kid/teen/young adult yanderes) to really want their friendship and advice. Reader seems to know how to please others and is pretty chill, so why not try to befriend them or have them on their side? They think Reader is a pretty chill yandere, a surprise to almost everyone who meets them. Reader is funny, kind, smart, and obsesses over cute or odd topics! They'd be a lucky person to have! Except... they aren't a darling or bby. And no one can exactly touch them or make a move without getting into legal trouble unless Reader is okay with it (because they're registered as a yanling) or if they were a bby... If they were a bby, they'd have to have a yandere, or some support system, as yanderes protect darlings and bbys, they're meant to do that, they're supposed to he strong and caring and steadfast, not swerving or rejecting them, or letting anyone mess with their bby... And darlings are loving, caring beings, who give love and bring hope and provide care and comfort... Wars were started in ancient times over darlings... They're rare, usually being hidden away or dying early on, due to their diffent biology and pheromones and needs than yanderes...

Reader likes their odd friends and the school and their friends' strange mentors, but always always a distance between themself and everyone. They know they're different, they know others wouldn't let them be on their own if they knew the truth, and so many people could hurt them or abuse them or experiment on them if they found out... It keeps Reader up at night, it fuels their paranoia, it makes them add extra locks to their doors and windows and set up traps if they had a nightmare... They want connection, to have family, to be loved... darlings need that, so badly... it's why so many die, because they don't get enough, or they end up in horrible situations so young, and they simply wither away, dying... Reader couldn't stand that to happen to them. Couldn't stand to become a shell of themself. So they hide, they keep scent blockers so mutants, who have heightened senses, can't detect anything different about them. Reader even hones their mutation in secret, no matter how good or bad, controlled or destructive, they are, so they can defend themself if worst comes to worst...

It all goes to H*ll when an accident happens, perhaps a fight or getting wounded or just being caught unaware, and now the platonic yans, at least a handful, know what Reader is. And they're... shocked. Elated. Worried. Their friend or kids' friend is a bby... They've been on their own. With no yandere. No help. And they're still alive? It's a rough night for them, as they struggle struggle what to do. They can't leave Reader like that. It wouldn't be right, would it? Bbys need more love and care than yanderes, needing someone to keep giving it, constantly... Without it, they tend to get sickly, or go insane, or die... And if that happened to Reader, they wouldn't forgive themselves...

It's not much of a choice to them. They tell their team, they possibly alert the other group, and devise a way to get Reader to join them. If they can manage, they want Reader to join willingly. If not, they'd have to kidnap them or force them to stay, which could harm them or damage their trust and their instincts. They know Reader is now scared of them, even if they brush it off or try to hide it. Reader says they're fine, but they know they aren't. They see them being more alert, more wary. They see how they are more deceptive, more careful, with what they say and do. They even seem to be thinking of leaving, or hiding themself... And that behavior won't help them, or make anything easier.

They have a plan, they just need to hope Reader doesn't catch on untik they're finally somewhere safe, preferably where they can do a check-up and figure out what they need to feel better and accept them as their family...

[dokidokitsuna]

Welcome to Future Utopia Island!

-The theme of this area is ‘childhood’. This was a place to gather for the younger citizens of Alterna, and the innocent remnants of their lives are scattered about.

-You can find a bicycle to ride on the shores of the island. Smallfry loves to tag along in the basket. ^^

-O.R.C.A.’s first terminal is found here. Once you have collected three Golden Eggs from the first section of the underground laboratory, O.R.C.A. will detect their energy on you and grant you access to the first few of its files, as well as the rest of the lab spaces in the area. Its hope is that you will continue to collect energy to ‘reawaken’ Alterna, and keep its legacy alive by  learning its workings and history.

-Shiver, along with the rest of Deep Cut, had no idea that O.R.C.A. existed until now. But since it’s opening up facilities where they can find more weapons, supplies, and Golden Eggs, they suggest you do whatever it wants so it’ll keep helping you. ^^

-The number of Golden Eggs you can collect is fixed: 3 from clearing each lab space, and 33 from defeating each King Salmonid boss. In this way, the number in your possession acts as a benchmark for your progress. However, the number of Power Eggs you can collect is unlimited, just like in the real game. You can search the overworld and return to lab spaces repeatedly to gather as many as you want. These are used to access/retry certain challenging levels, to feed Smallfry and clear Fuzzy Ooze, and to activate Nostalgic Devices.

-A Nostalgic Device is usually a mundane electrical appliance, toy, or piece of gadgetry, reminiscent of some aspect of life in Alterna. O.R.C.A. will reward you with special files and locker decorations for finding and activating them, and the Devices themselves will often lead you to Power Egg caches or Sunken Scrolls.

-When you look at certain locations from a far enough distance, you may see a large shadowy figure interacting with whatever Nostalgic Device is hidden there. If you’re having trouble finding any Devices, keep an eye out for that shadow while you explore Alterna!

[s-soulwriter]

Dark writing prompts

Some dark writing prompts for the cold winter days :) Number five is my favorite. I wrote a short story about it once. Which one is your favorite?

In a world where emotions are harvested as a powerful energy source, a secret society emerges, exploiting the pain and suffering of individuals to fuel their dark ambitions.

A mysterious antique mirror appears in an old, abandoned house. Anyone who gazes into it experiences glimpses of their worst fears coming to life. What happens when the mirror falls into the wrong hands?

In a dystopian future, a government experiment to control crime goes horribly wrong. Citizens start experiencing their darkest impulses as physical manifestations, leading to chaos and destruction.

A cursed town is shrouded in perpetual darkness, and every year, a single resident must willingly sacrifice themselves to lift the curse for a brief moment. This year, the chosen one has a secret that could change everything.

A talented artist discovers that their paintings have the power to alter reality. However, with each stroke of the brush, a piece of their soul is consumed, leaving them on the brink of madness.

A small community is plagued by a series of unexplainable events, each linked to a children's nursery rhyme. As the rhyme predicts the next tragedy, the townsfolk desperately try to break the curse before it claims them all.

A scientist creates a device that allows people to relive their happiest memories. However, as they delve deeper into the technology, they uncover a hidden layer of forgotten, traumatic experiences that could shatter lives.

In a post-apocalyptic world, survivors discover an underground bunker containing a mysterious machine that claims to offer a chance at resurrection. However, the price to bring someone back is the sacrifice of another life.

A cursed book is said to grant its reader unimaginable knowledge, but at the cost of their sanity. As a desperate scholar seeks its pages, they must confront the malevolent entity within that hungers for their mind.

A detective investigates a series of gruesome murders that seem to be connected by a chilling pattern. As they get closer to the truth, they realize the killer might be something otherworldly, feeding on the fear they instill in their victims.

[reixtsu]

Chapter 1: Unexpected Encounter

Next Masterlist

The city was alive with activity. Neon lights painting the skies in hues of blue and violet. The hum of airships overhead blended with the cacophony of voices in the crowded market square below. For a Stellaron Hunter, such chaos was both a blessing and a curse-it offered cover but also countless opportunities for things to go wrong. Very wrong.

You stood near a vendor stall, your eyes constantly scanning the crowd. Elio's script had been vague, as always, leaving you to fill in the gaps. The mission was to retrieve the data drive, avoid detection, and regroup. Sounded easy enough, but you wished that there were more details within the instructions.

Behind you, Kafka leaned lazily against a lamppost, her lilac eyes glinting with nonchalant amusement. "You're too tense, y/n," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "Relax. Everything's going according to the script."

You shook your head. "I know, but you're not the one with a five-year-old son to look after," you muttered, keeping your voice low.

She chuckled softly, her gaze flickering to where your son, Hajime, stood beside Silverwolf. The boy was wide-eyed, captivated by the holographic displays at a nearby stall.

"Silverwolf's got him," Kafka assured you. "Blade and I will cover the east quadrant. Focus on the task at hand, alright cutie?"

You nodded, though the unease of a mother twisted in your chest. Hajime was your world, the one part of your life that isn't dictated by Elio's vision. You'd do anything to protect him-even if it meant walking away from the man who shared the same magenta and cyan eyes.

The mission began smoothly enough. You slipped through the crowd, your every move calculated like a ninja's. Blade and Kafka disappeared into the east quadrant, starting their part of the script. Silverwolf stayed behind, her fingers flying across her hacking device as she worked to intercept the rogue agent's signal.

"Hajime," you said, placing your finger into the little speaking device that was well hidden in your ear. "Stay close to Silverwolf. No wandering off."

"I know, mom," He replied, his tone both obedient and slightly exasperated as he sat next to Silverwolf, watching as she continued her job.

For a while, everything seemed fine. Hajime stayed within sight, his curiosity tempered by your warning. But then the stall selling glowing crystals caught his attention.

"Silverwolf, can I look?" he asked, his voice tingled with excitement as he stared at her, practically begging.

She hesitated, glancing at her device then back at him while her fingers kept typing. "Just stay where I can see you," she finally said.

Hajime eagerly nodded then darted off.

Minutes passed, and you felt a flicker of unease. After infiltrating the building and finishing your part of the mission, you went back to Silverwolf. She was sitting, legs crossed as she was preoccupied with whatever she was doing. Stretching, you walked up to her, patting her back until you realized something. 

"Where's Hajime?" You asked, your voice sharp enough to have Silverwolf look at you.

"He went exploring," she said blankly, her gaze scanning the crowd to look for the boy's fluffy blond hair.

Panic surged through you. With a sharp glare, you turned and pushed your way through the market, your heart hammering in your chest and making its way up your head, causing you to have a pulsing headache.

Aventurine had no particular reason to be in the fun part of the city other than the fact that he was bored. His work often brought him to places like this-a bustling, neon-soaked market in some distant planet. But tonight the atmosphere intrigued him. Surely the higher ups wouldn't mind if he lingered in the area for a bit.

He strolled through the square with a calm, almost lazy grace, his sharp, neon and magenta eyes taking in the sights. Vendors called out to passersby, hawking everything from the rare spices to glowing trinkets. Children darted between stalls, their laughter cutting through the noise like a sharp melody.

Then that's when he saw him.

A boy, no older than five, weaving through the crowd with the confidence of someone much older. Aventurine paused, his gaze narrowing. There was someone about that child, something oddly familiar that he couldn't place a finger on. Then that's when he saw it. The boy's eyes.

Avgin eyes.

Ones that looked a little too identical to his own.

Realization hit him like a bolt of lightning, but he pushed the thought aside, approaching the boy cautiously.

"Hey there," he said, crouching to the boy's level. "You seem a little far from home."

Hajime looked up at him, his expression wide from curiosity. "I'm not far. Mom's around here somewhere."

Aventurine raised an eyebrow. Why wasn't the boy at least accompanied by his mom then? Was his mom off drinking at a nearby bar or something? "Does your mom know where you are?"

The boy shrugged. "Probably. She's busy. Silverwolf's supposed to be watching me, but she got distracted. Sooo I walked away!"

The name Silverwolf sent a jolt through Aventurine. he knew that name, who didn't? Silverwolf, one of the Stellaron Hunters, a bounty with so many credits for her head. He studied Hajime more carefully, giving him a smile.

"What's your name?" Aventurine asked, keeping his tone light.

"Hajime," the boy said proudly. "Who are you, sir?"

Sir? Aventurine smiled, charmed despite himself. "Just someone passing through. How about we find your mom together?"

Hajime considered for a moment, humming dramatically before giving Aventurine a huge grin. "Okay."

Aventurine couldn't help but genuinely smile as Hajime peppered him with questions. The boy was sharp, his curiosity knowing no bounds.

"Do you live here?" Hajime asked as they walked through the busy market.

"No," Aventurine replied, his eyes wandering off but his peripheral vision on Hajime. "I'm just visiting for a while. How about you?"

"I don't live anywhere," Hajime said matter-of-factly. "Mom says we're always on the move because of her work. But she always makes sure I'm safe."

Aventurine hummed nonchalantly, feeling a pang of something he couldn't quite name. Pity? "She sounds like a good mom."

Hajime nodded enthusiastically. "She's the best! She's really strong, and she knows everything. But she gets grumpy sometimes."

The older male chuckled. "I see. And what about you? What do you like to do?"

the boy tilted his head, thinking. "I really like learning about stars and planets. They's so cool! Mom tells me stories about them all the time. Do you have any good stories, sir?"

Aventurine smiled. "Many, Hajime, like-" He began to ramble on about a star that burned so brightly that it burned the planets around it. Hajime listened intently, his eyes only growing wider with wonder.

You found Hajime just as Aventurine was finishing his story. Relief crashed onto you like a tsunami, but it was quickly replaced by dread as you saw just who he was with.

Aventurine.

He looked up, his gaze locking onto yours. Time seemed to slow, the noise of the market fading into the background. His expression shifted-first surprise, then it morphed into something deeper, something more intense.

You forced yourself to move, your steps graceful despite the chaos inside of you. "Hajime," you said, voice calm but firm. "I told you not to wander off."

Hajime ran to you, his small arms wrapping around your leg. "Sorry mama. But look!" He looked up at you, grinning as he pointed at Aventurine. "He helped me look for you."

Aventurine just stood there, his charm seeming to radiate off him. His gaze never left yours, a slow smile spreading across his face. "It's been a while, hasn't?" He said, his tone laced with something unreadable, making your heart jump a little.

You met his gaze evenly despite the pounding of your heart. "Indeed. Thank you for watching him."

Hajime tugged on your sleeve, momentarily bringing you back into the present away from Aventurine. "Mom, he told me a story about a star! Can I hear more? Please?"

You smiled faintly, your mask firmly in place. "Maybe another time."

Aventurine chuckled, his usual charm sliding into place as he slipped his hands in his pocket. "I'd be happy to. But first, I think your mom and I need to have.. a little chat."

Author’s notes: Here you all go! Your rich sugar daddy baby daddy! I love his gay ass so much… I might do those poll votes on how the story progresses in the future, but let me know if you’re interested so far! I’d love to hear from you!

ALSO!!! If you wanna join the Taglist then comment down below!

Likes, shares, and reboots much appreciated!

Taglist: @godoffuckedupcats, @sweetistic

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL) SPAS-12 and her S/O fighting together

Alternative Title: Sabrina is a badass/dork for around 1k words.

No one requested this, just thought this would be funny to write and to give our gal the content she deserves. Inspired by her Mod-1 story. Also a friendly reminder because I forget about this fact all the time, our lovable and cute T-dolls are terminators. So do NOT anger them.

(Kalina's Voice) "S/O. SPAS-12, do you copy?"

S/O reached for their phone and put it up to their ear, though it was simply to keep up appearances. Both them and SPAS-12 were currently dressed as civilians, a couple going out together at a nearby café and blending into the city.

The area they were in seemed unaffected by the previous war and quite lovely, if it weren't for the fact they were hunting down a weapons dealer that one of Griffin's clients couldn't tolerate.

S/O was doing their best not to look suspicious, their eyes hidden by a pair of shades as they carefully watched the road next to them, with SPAS-12 happily snacking on a cookie as they waited.

(SPAS-12) "Mmm! S/O, you have to try this!-"

...Doing their best to ignore that, S/O responded to their superior.

(S/O) "Loud and clear."

SPAS-12 pouted at being ignored, before S/O gently nudged her leg with their foot, avoiding the shopping bag that contained their helmet and motioning with their head to the left and catching her attention.

In an instant, her expression became serious, adjusting the large suitcase that contained her shield and shotgun behind her...All the while nibbling on the cookie she was trying to give to S/O.

(Kalina's Voice) "The target's vehicle should be approaching your street now. Do you have visuals?"

(S/O) "Confirmed. Black sports car parking outside an alley...Bold of them to try this deal in broad daylight."

(SPAS-12) "The alley leads into an apartment complex, if I remember this street right."

(Commander's Voice) "Client would prefer the target alive, but if you have no choice, lethal force is authorized."

(S/O) "Understood, S/O out."

Hanging up the phone, S/O got up from their seat while grabbing their bag, motioning for SPAS-12 to follow. Normally, this operation would have just been performed by Griffin T-Dolls to lower risk of casualties, but a human presence was required. The dealer only talked to humans, and they unsurprisingly had a device able to tell if someone was or not. Apparently, it stemmed from a hatred of T-Dolls, but S/O couldn't care less about that.

And evidently, neither could SPAS-12.

(SPAS-12) "I put yours in a to-go bag! We can have some on the way home!"

(S/O) "Sweetie, we have got to get your mind focused on the mission. I promise to eat my share if you-"

As they were approaching the alley, suddenly SPAS-12's eyes focused ahead, raising her arm instantly and stopping S/O in their tracks. S/O was startled by her speed, not even getting a chance to blink before she effortlessly swung her suitcase forward in front of her, SPAS-12's serious expression not flinching for a second.

(S/O) "-...C-Concentrate."

(SPAS-12) "I detect drones powering up. I think they know we're coming."

S/O took a deep breath, reaching into their jacket for their pistol, though still concealing it as they were out in public.

(S/O) "Well, so much of a human aid being required...How'd they know?-"

(SPAS-12) "Commander. Looks like our position is compromised and a firefight is inevitable, there is a high chance it might spill out into the street, though we will attempt to mitigate collateral."

A brief moment of silence passed, before the Commander responded.

(Commander) "Acknowledged. Proceed."

SPAS-12 took a deep breath, turning to her S/O.

(SPAS-12) "Stay behind me, and watch our back. I doubt their weapons could effectively harm me, but they might go for you instead. Got your helmet?"

S/O stood behind SPAS-12 and reached into the bag, the wrappers concealing it ruffling as they grabbed the underside of it.

(S/O) "Yeah, ready when you are."

(SPAS-12) "Then, like we practiced! You still remember the rhythm?"

(S/O) "...S-SPAS? Do we have to play the song too?-"

She nodded, being completely serious.

(SPAS-12) "It will disorient them, as well as help remember our training. You trust me, don't you?"

SPAS-12 turned back to S/O giving them a gentle smile, one that they could never say no to.

(S/O) "...I do."

Finally approaching the alley, the suitcase clicked open as she grabbed her weapon, the shield attaching itself to her almost telepathically as it whirred into position, directly in front of S/O as she strode into the open.

Immediately, gunfire burst from the windows, shattering glass as bullets harmlessly ricocheted off her frame, not even causing her hair to fray. Meanwhile, S/O grit their teeth as bullets rattled the shield, both of them running away from the direction of the street to avoid anyone getting hurt.

(SPAS-12) "Beginning breach! Hitting it!-"

A song began playing, the beat instantly sounding familiar as the lyrics rang out and echoed down the alley.

It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake!

THUD!

SPAS-12 kicked the door, with it flying off its hinge and pulverizing a combat droid standing behind it.

If the way is hazy-

BLAM! BLAM!

SPAS-12 fired her shotgun twice, bisecting one droid from the close range while the other had its upper half vaporize into smaller scrap. By the time the dhe door slammed into the wall, breaking the concrete as the shield faced behind her, SPAS-12 moved to the right while S/O faced the left.

You gotta do the cooking by the book!

BANG!

S/O pulled the trigger as soon as the song finished the line, blasting off the head of another droid rounding the corner, before hiding behind the shield again.

You know you can't be lazy!

Before the next line of the song played, they switched positions effortlessly, with SPAS-12 now suddenly aiming her gun down a hallway where even more droids poured in.

Never use a messy recipe-

TheBLAM!CakeBLAM!willBLAM!endBLAM!upBLAM!crazy!

SPAS-12's shots caused the room to flash several times as robotic limbs were sent flying across the room, furniture and paper getting decimated in the process as she kept her attention on both the scanner and the song.

If you do the cooking by the book,

S/O's hand tapped behind her shoulder, motioning the group forward as her shield still hovered behind her, S/O using it as mobile cover as they neared the stairs of the apartment, leaving the mess of a lobby behind.

Then you'll have a cake! BANG!BLAM!

On the last word, SPAS-12 and S/O took out the bodyguard droids of the dealer, with their enemies slumping to the ground shooting out small electrical sparks as the dealer had his back against the wall.

The couple aimed their guns at the dealer, with the shield slightly lowering.

Prompting the dealer to immediately pull out his gun and aim for S/O's feet, the shield instantly correcting itself to stand upright and block any and all shots hitting them. S/O nodded and turned back to the stairs, waiting for any potential enemies as SPAS-12 glared at him.

The dealer then immediately shot SPAS-12, the bullet of his gun bouncing off her head, now making her eye twitch.

(SPAS-12) "Well, look at that. I have authorization to fire on a human, but I have to reload. Lucky you. That means I have to do what comes next with my bare hands."

...

The Commander and Kalina could hear for a brief moment the sounds of the dealer swearing, before a violent crash deafened the comms. Shortly after, SPAS spoke again.

(SPAS-12) "Target subdued, Commander. Moving to extract, no casualties."

(Commander) "Understood. Your ride is coming shortly. See you back at base."

Communications turned off with the Commander chuckling to himself in amusement, his second in command shivering next to him.

(Kalina) "Yeesh! Imagine if they had shot her food too."

(Commander) "I don't think there'd be anything left of the poor bastard. Anyways, once they drop off the target, send the Black Hawk to the coordinates."

...

SPAS-12 and S/O sat together as the Black Hawk was flying back to base, the two of them eating the cookie she had saved.

(SPAS-12) "See? Isn't it good?!"

S/O laughed at the sight as her face melted into delight, savoring the chocolate in the cookie. As if they hadn't seen that same face almost end a man's life right in front of them only a few hours ago. Wiping the crumbs off their lips, they leaned into her.

(S/O) "Yeah, yeah. I'll admit it's pretty good."

(SPAS-12) "I got enough to last us for the rest of the week, just make sure we share, okay?"

(S/O) "SPAS, you're the one who usually eats more than your half...W-Wait a second, how much of the money I gave you did you spend on the cookies? How much were they a piece?!"

(SPAS-12) "Uh...w-well...about that...!"

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Too stupid to be real

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

There once was a species known as the Ping that held control over several dozen star systems near the outer edges of the known universe.

Under their reign entire worlds were turned into nightmarish hellscapes the likes of which only the mad could dream of and only the dead escape from. The Ping feasted on suffering for nutrients in a process still not fully understood today despite several centuries of research, and so they tortured and mutilated all within their domain.

It took the combined efforts of half a dozen species to finally drive the Ping back to their original homeworld. Countless billions died in the struggle, and twice as many went mad from the horrific images and hallucinations; yet the death like grip of the Ping was broken.

When it came to decide the fate of the Ping there was a heated debate amongst the victors. Half felt that the Ping were too dangerous to be left free and needed to be exterminated, while the other half was hesitant to be swayed by such extreme measures as it would make them no better than those they had fought to overthrow. The debate raged on for several weeks after the final battle until the moderates emerged victorious.

A massive cryogenic vault was constructed on the Ping homeworld and every surviving member of the species was locked within. Inside their cryo tubes the Ping would serve out their sentences until such a time as the rest of the galaxy felt the Ping could be set free into the universe.

To ensure the vault was not breached several different layers of defenses were installed, each created by a different species to ensure that no one member species could enter into the vault unless each agreed. With the security features in place the Ping homeworld was vacated and orbital beacons were placed warning all who came within system that the planet was off limits.

Years turned into decades, decades to centuries, and then millennia passed without a single soul setting foot on the planet. The former victors of the war continued with their lives and managing their new found freedom amongst the stars without the threat of the Ping. Perhaps it was in this new found sense of freedom that they slowly began to forget about the Ping’s existence all together.

Had any of them given the Ping a thought for even a moment one of them could have warned Humanity to stay away; but none did.

When humanity began expanding into the stars they spread out in all directions like lightning in the sky. Their appetite for the new and wondrous universe around them was insatiable. For too long they had known only the confines of their own world and with the coming of space travel they finally saw their chance to explore the stars; which led them to stumbling upon the Ping homeworld.

Where other races would have seen the array of defenses and obstacles blocking the world and turned away, humanity saw a mystery in need of solving.

“A seemingly dead world protected by such wonders?” they thought. “What treasures are hidden here?”

So they dove head first with reckless abandon into the world, ignoring the numerous warning signals that were still being transmitted by the automated systems orbiting the planet in languages they could not understand.

The first expedition hadn’t made it through the first layer of outer atmosphere before colliding into energy barriers. Crengthi shields operated on wave lengths not detectible by human instruments and so the ships were damaged but still capable of space flight.

The second expedition was able to study the shielding and devised a jamming device that would open small holes within the shield to allow ships to pass through. They had just made it into the lower atmosphere when ground based Kentoc automated cannons targeted their vessels and obliterated them.

The third expedition was larger than the previous two by far as the military had seen the results of the ground based weaponry and wanted their scientists to reverse engineer them. A large military contingent was deployed alongside the science vessels and spear headed the landings on the surface.

Once more the Kentoc cannons roared into the heavens but the military ships were able to withstand the barrage. There were still losses and a few of the heavier landing craft were obliterated, but still many more troop carriers landed and dispersed their cargo of soldiers and scientists. It was here that they triggered the Julnu mind madness broadcaster.

Within minutes the humans who had survived to touch the surface of the Ping homeworld were driven mad by visions of such intense horror many gouged out their own eyes to make the nightmares stop. The military leaders still in orbit could only watch in horror as every human on the planet killed each other and then themselves until once more the planet lay silent.

And so it went on for decades on and off again.

Expedition after expedition would be sent to the Ping homeworld building atop the advances made by the previous until succumbing to the world themselves. Sometimes it was the military, other times private corporations, and then eventually even privateers and treasure hunter’s came drawn to the world by the ever growing legend.

The defenses of the world were extensive, but not infinite; and with each expedition they grew thinner and thinner until finally the humans had reached the cryo vault itself. It was here that the other surviving races of the universe who had once imprisoned the Ping received a final warning transmission that the vault was about to be breached.

Historical records were dusted off and it was with great horror that these races knew of what would be unleashed should they fail to keep the humans from the vault. Wars between them all but ceased as their military fleets were rerouted to the Ping homeworld.

When they arrived they were surprised to find there were no longer any humans on the world. In fact, there was not a single living human left in the entire system.

They quickly descended on the world and found that it had been stripped bare of all technology. Energy shields, automated weapons, broadcasting systems; anything of value had been taken by the humans in their relentless pursuit of the mysterious world was claimed as their prize.

Fearing the worst the races rushed deep into the confines of the world for the cryo vault , hoping beyond hope that the humans had not been so foolish as to unleash the most dangerous species the universe had ever known. Scorched and melted, they found the vault doors had been cut through and breached. With weapons drawn and at the ready they advanced into the vault but found something they had not expected.

Every single cryo pod was missing from the vault, but at the entrance of the vault casually tossed off to the side was a massive mound of dead Ping. Each body had a single hole in their forehead from what was most likely a close range human automatic weapon ensuring immediate death. While some of the races breathed a sigh of relief, others were outraged at the casual butchery carried out by the humans and sought answers.

A delegation was sent to the human homeworld to demand answers and answers they were given.

One of the pods had indeed been opened shortly after the vault had been breached and the humans interacted with the Ping for a brief time. It soon became quickly obvious that the Ping were a hostile race as they immediately attempted to kill all of the humans present and free either brethren.

After a two dozen killed soldiers and scientists it was finally brought down when an excavation bot rammed it through the chest and impaled it to the wall of the vault. It bled out screaming in its alien tongue for hours until finally it died.

The leader of the expedition was given instructions to bring back any usable technology, but nothing on what to do if encountering sentient life forms. It had been a general consensus that they had been dealing with the automated defenses of a long dead civilization so it had never been considered.

Taking into account the hostile nature of the Ping, the leader made a judgment call that they could not be safely released back into the universe. Upon the opening of each cryo pod the occupant was summarily executed before they could fully recover and tossed aside while the pod was removed from the chamber.

The gathered alien delegates were dumbfounded by the humans. They had breached one of the most secure locations in the known universe without fully understanding it and had slain the greatest evil of the universe held within, and had moved on to new endeavors as if what they had just done was as interesting as a casual walk in spring.

They worried what would happen the next time the humans became interested in something.