#product pusher

[blackirishweab]

If there’s one thing I’m gonna do it’s tell you the story of a really good deal I got on something innocuous like it was an interstate black market arms deal gone very good

[boysnberriespie]

There’s always something off putting about new internet memes and language* becoming serious discourse with real analysis (fine and normal, academics do it all the time) but people with no media literacy read those posts/essays and think that means anybody who says those things is brainwashed sheep. They’ve been analyzed and therefore there is something significantly wrong with them.

Can we not do neutral analysis anymore? Can nothing be interesting for its own sake? Must we be the arbiters of cultural value based on the next new substack essay and how we felt about it?

*not including the misuse appropriation of AAVE which is not what I’m thinking about in this moment, and while a connected discussion, isn’t necessarily the same thing as people coming up with corecore or even something like blorbo

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

141 as your drug dealer boyfriend

Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.

But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.

Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.

Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.

"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."

And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.

He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,

"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."

He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.

"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."

He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.

Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.

He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,

"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"

A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,

"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"

Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)

Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,

"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"

Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`

[wildestheart4ever]

Her new ladyship arrives tomorrow!!

I feel like I should go buy more cat toys for on the off chance my sister’s friend forgets to bring the ones Maeve had been playing with.

[spiinvisble]

i need bf hcs NEOWWW

ok anything for you🤭

hamzah boyfriend head cannons

sfw

- doesn’t really show pda but super affectionate in private

- will slap your ass when alone but you always slaps his ass much harder

- will also grab your ass whenever you hug and wrap your arms around his neck

- loves playing with your hair when having convos

- will twirl the strands between his figures and admire the way you can get so passionate about what happened in your day

- “like can you even believe that !… hamzah are you even listening to me” “yes sweetheart always”

- he’s ur number one fan is so so supportive of you

- pet names!

- honestly i also think he would call you mommy as a joke

- calling you babe 24/7 tho especially yelling it

- “BABEEEEEE HAVE YOU SEEN MY KEYS”

- gives passionate kisses whenever y’all are alone

- always leads to more

- wearing his clothes all the time which leads to him having nothing to wear

- getting him on your 10 step skincare routine

- after staying over his place all the time he will definitely start stealing all your products and use it when he doesn’t know what they mean like toner lmao

- teasing each other all the time

nsfw

- he is definitely an ass and face guy

- has some stamina (i think lol)

- loves doggy because he gets to pull your hair and slap your ass

- however he loves staring at you so he would switch to missionary

- slight choking when missionary

- will always go nice and slow but eventually will get go crazy and grab your waist to go deeper

- loves all types of sex with you. passionate. angry. slow. you name it.

- he loves eating you out

- he’s really messy and sloppy with it.. i mean we seen how he’s always sticking his damn tongue out

- doesn’t care if you’re laying down or sitting on his face he just wants to devour you

- will close his eyes and have the time of his life tbh

- he also gets bricked up from seeing you wear his t shirts with nothing else on

- immediately ends up fucking you but keeps his shirt on you (let me know if you want me to write something with this scenario)

- likes the idea of being all his

- LOTS of praising

- “good girl” “you like that” “mmm”

- however he does like degrading a bit

- always cuddle after sex and even some cockwarming if cuddling naked…

- doesn’t pressure you into bjs!

- head pusher but will always ask first if that’s okay

- thigh riding ofc

- will always pull you onto his thigh and start putting his hands on your hips to start some grinding..

- he would be do this whenever he’s gaming, working etc

these are all i can think of atm and i’ll prob make a part 2 if i can think of more BUT PLEASE YALL SEND MORE REQUESTS OR TALK TO ME💔💔

[rleep80-blog]

I work at a Grocery Store. I have for about 15 years. Recently (within the last year) I was promoted. I went from a sheltered bubble of Store security, to a harsh reality. The reality is that I would rather deal with criminals who I already know have mental health issues, then the general public who hide there flaws for the sake of “presentation”.

Here is why….

I would expect no common decency from someone who has reached a point in their life that they steal or shit on the floor or stab someone in the head, to lack morals and values and common decency. So it was quite the culture shock, to realize that all of the “normal” people, are even bigger assholes. Case and point…

I am helping my produce department fill salads. I have a u-boat out. FULL of boxes. It is directly across from the two refrigerated doors I am filing. I have about three to four feet in-front of me. U-boat to salad wall. That’s what I am doing. Filling product. It doesn’t sound like it’s hard work. But the up and down and back and forth and bending and reaching and cutting my arms on the pushers , after time, it gets physical. Like…. I am sweating.

And it’s a Sunday. What’s wrong with Sunday? Well, EVERYONE for some reasons wants to grocery shop on god damn Sunday.

Anyway, I am there, in this little cubby corner of this huge ass store, and low and behold… here comes the first person. With a big ass cart. Rolls it right infront of my little space and wants me to stop what I am doing, get up, and move. So they can walk through my little space and interrupt me working. AS IF THERE WAS NO WHERE ELSE TO WALK. AS IF THERE WERE NOT 5 OPTIONS OF PATHS TO TAKE.

I smile and they say “excuse me” and shrug their shoulders and apologize. I let the first few instances of that blatant inconsideration roll off my shoulders.

And after any the 30th time, different people, I am to the brink of snapping on someone. Because not only do people do this all day to people working in a grocery store, but I am literally stocking 8 glass doors FULL OF GODAMN SALAD. You need the one salad I am filling. Or YOU need to get on the other side of me so bad and cannot walk around? It’s bad enough I have to sit here and wonder why we need 5,000 different types of fucking salad for your picky spoiled asses.

They will not stop. They will never stop. YOU will never stop. It’s entitlement and laziness and a sheer lack of respect or courtesy.

The general public does this all fucking day. Turning a two hour job into a three hour job. Making my body even more sore so you don’t have to walk a few more feet. The sheer ignorance blows my mind.

So yes, I would rather deal with a crackhead. At least I have no hope with a crackhead. I suppose I could be naive to think people are aware enough of their own surroundings that they take others into consideration? Wow… what a dream world that would be. 🖕🏽

# from my head

[darkeagleruins]

NET ZERO - oops … awkward here from NASA

The earth is greening at higher levels of CO2.

And it’s <checks notes> erm .. predicted to increase crop production.

That’s got to sting the narrative pushers

[sarahdogoc80]

Lily Orchard's View on Drug Addicts is Backwards

Lily is using her sister being a drug addict to discount her. But honestly that's makes her more credible. I use to hang in drug circles for reasons I don't think are important. But I was in them. And almost every female in drug circles has experience in being molested/raped/violated especially as young girls. One addict I remember saying she would dream about her dad raping her and she did crack so she didn't have to sleep/can forget about it. She was thrown out at ten because "her mom was jealous her husband was ""having sex""" with their ten year old daughter and not her." So this isn't the burn Lily thinks it is. If her sister is a raging drug addict then she probably has something tramadic happen. As very rarely did I meet an addict of any gender that came from a loving and supportive home that didn't have some kind of trama happen behind closed door. I knew this guy who was adopted into a loving home with parents who still support him no matter how much he hurts them. But his baggage is he was a product of a gang rape of a teenage drug addict mother. His mother did drugs her whole pregnancy. He went down hill after finding his birth mother who originally wanting nothing to do with him and told him how he came to be. He came from the best home I can think of. But looking behind the outer layers. You see someone who was born addicted to Opeits and had his world shattered after finding out why he existed.

It's gross to try and use being a drug addict to treat someone like shit and discredit them. They are broken people who need help. Help a normal person can't provide they need professional help by the way. Lily honestly sounds like a conservative with this view. Pick 5 random biographies written by female addicts and half of them will probably have a story of sexual abuse.

From what I understand Courtney only does weed and cigarettes now. And these two things are no wear near heroin you Regan propaganda pusher.

[dodorimo]

WIP Wednesday

Theater director!Raphael x Tav

He's supposed to be kinda creepy here, so yeah, this is a warning.

· · ──────  ❊  ────── · ·

It is a disaster, a travesty.

He wonders. When Tacitus beheld the charred remains of his beloved Rome, did he feel a similar way?

Chorus girls look to each other for guidance while lead actors traipse over the stage, painfully off-key. He has seen high school productions with more verve than this one.

That he has to share a room with such insipid talent. It is truly heartbreaking.

With a weary sigh, his eyes survey the stage for the weak link, and that’s where he finds her. A girl in the back row, looking a little lost and scared out of her mind.

“Dear God, who does casting these days?” he laments to no one in particular, crossing his legs on the leather seat.

“You do, sir.”

Raphael turns to look at the man beside him, taking in his ill-fitting suit and old-fashioned glasses. Poor fellow. He has neither the knack nor the grip for the job. And the syndicate thought sending this boy would keep him on his toes?

“Oh, I didn’t audition this one or I’d remember her.” There’s a pause while he mulls over his thoughts. “Tell me, Jameson,” he says and ignores when the other man voices a correction. “Why is she here?”

“The girl has promise,” comes the curt response. “She was highly recommended.”

The vague answer does nothing to placate his quickly dampening mood. “Recommended by who? Her parents? Her elementary teacher, perhaps?”

A few cleaning women choose this moment to walk past their seats, prompting the man to lower his voice. “The Royal, sir.”

Raphael reclines back in his seat. There we have it.

What these newcomers fail to understand is that admission to a fancy college isn’t nearly enough accolades for his standards. He didn’t build his reputation by bowing down to paper-pushers and sycophants. In this theater, he dictates the rules. In this theater, he is king.

With a wave of his hand and a few scathing words, he orders the session to be dismissed, much to the relief of those present.

“May I suggest a break instead?”

“You did well today, Johnson. You may take the rest of the day off,” he replies, his tone final.

The man opens his mouth to protest, but turns to leave the room instead. The buzz of conversation slowly dwindles as cast and crew head backstage. They turn off the lights on their way out, leaving the theater in semi-penumbra.

Despite his predisposition for pomp and extravagance, Raphael always thought he worked better on a smaller stage.

“Not you.” He points to the girl tailgating the group. “I’d like to have a word.”

The girl stops in her tracks, a thousand emotions flashing across her face, before settling on fear.

While he waits for her to come around, he pulls two chairs and rearranges them facing each other in the middle of the stage, right below where the headlights shine brightest. The girl moves to sit on one of the chairs, shaking like a foal standing on its hind legs for the first time.

“Fear not. This will only take a moment,” he says, his smile deceptively warm—a skill honed after many years in the business.

She is a pretty little thing, this new choir girl. But then, again, most choir girls are. If her theater career falls to pieces, he can imagine a profession or two where she would excel at. 

“What do you say we start from the beginning of act two?” he suggests, tone amicable as to not alarm her further.

The girl scrambles to flip through the pages of the script, her eyes skimming over the words in rapid succession.

This won’t do. An easier question, then.

“What is your name, dear?”

“River, sir. My name is River.”

“My man told me you came from the capital. Do you like it there?”

“I like it very much, yes.” The small talk seems to calm her enough to allow her to find the right page. What she finds there, however, does not please her in the slightest.

“Sir, this is a scene for two…” she trails off, eyes fearful.

“Make the best of it. Improvise. I can play the part of your would-be lover if you wish.” The abrasive approach isn’t to his liking. Unfortunately for this girl, he is short on patience.

If he had any hope that under the veneer of the ingénue might hide a true thespian spirit, it vanishes the moment she utters the first line.

He stands up and paces aimlessly around the stage. The girl stares at him, dumbfounded.

“You have been on the run. This man, this stranger, offers you solace and a roof above your head. He is charming and not too hard on the eyes. You feel indebted to him. You’re young, naive and you’ve never been properly courted.”

The deviation from the script wouldn’t pose an issue. He is the author, after all, and the play, a successful piece from his earlier career. “Updated” for modern audiences. The word alone is enough to make him grit his teeth. None of his plays needed “updating”. Younger audiences can take their grievances back to their food-stained couches. They had no respect for the classics.

His little summary provokes the intended reaction. He sees the pieces falling into place in her mind.

“Harlequin…” she tries again, this time with more passion. And is that the hint of tears he sees in her eyes? “I've never met anyone like you. If only I could repay you in kind.”

“Good, good… much better.” He returns to his seat.

“Say the word and my body will be yours.” She leans forward, exposing just enough of her cleavage for his eager eyes. It’s a bold move, but not unwelcome. His fingers twitch on his lap. This little dove may surprise him still.

Raphael recites the words that have become second nature to him. “Columbina. I’d rather you not return to your old ways. If you choose to lie with me, it must be of your own free will.” If his voice sounded more condescending than the play requires, it’s just an act of improvisation on his part.

He points to the script in her hand. It’s the cue for her musical number.

If the girl clearly struggled with the finer nuances of the text before, here she needs no assistance. Hers is a voice of singular beauty, the likes of which emerge once in a generation. He suddenly understood why James was so hellbent on bringing her here. It wasn’t just the charming Harlequin who was finding himself enthralled.

When it’s done, he takes off his glasses without saying a word and puts them carefully in his pocket.

“Oh dear, this is…” Beautiful, stupendous, awe-inspiring, his mind supplies. “A little crude, if you don’t mind my directness.”

The girl looks positively devastated, her lips quivering as if about to cry.

“But even the roughest of rocks can be polished into a beautiful piece of jewelry. Isn’t this what they say? Meet me at my office after tomorrow’s rehearsal. I expect you to be well acquainted with the text by then.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Call me Raphael.”

“Raphael…” Her voice rings like angelic bells to his ears. “Until tomorrow.”

[thoughtfulchaos773]

This post by @vacationship has me thinking and others will disagree with me and that's okay.

I'll briefly take off my shipping glasses for a second. Some people are still debating the issue of "pushing" in the context of Sydney and Carmy based on the trailer. Personally, I support the idea of pushing if it's obvious that two people have feelings for each other and one of them is holding back due to fear. At least pushing the other person for clarity and honesty is okay.

I see the push that Molly, Chris, and Carmy are talking about as one of us is too scared to jump off this cliff into the unknown, but someone has to push and try this shit out.

It just wasn't with the right girl.

Claire's push was fine when she asked for Carmy's phone number. Her experience is that she waited in her last relationship, and nothing happened, so she wanted to go for it again. Also, maybe she was told by Mikey and Richie how much Carmy liked her, and it just confused her a bit, and she also knew that Carmy was really shy so she wanted to push him.

However I'll admit that the chasing his number is another thing, but she also cleaned it up by giving him another chance and asking him if he really didn't want her to have his number.

Now is the story purposefully asking if the guy did this it would be a different story? Or is storer right, there's always the pusher in relationships?

Anyway, perhaps there was a part of Carmy, although a small one, that has always wanted Mikey's approval and did want a relationship with Claire. It seems like Carmy, who tends to be avoidant, might need some encouragement when it comes to dating. Dating can be scary for him, especially because he's used to working a lot and doesn't have much of a social life. He also tends to expect the worst, even when good things like relationships happen.

Now Carmy says to Sydney, "So you can push me, and I can push you." That's a necessary dynamic for both Carmy and Sydney since they tend to avoid. Carmy pushes Sydney when he tells her to say more and her trying to avoid him won't work for their partnership.

I notice that Carmy is often encouraging Sydney to be more open and to deepen their relationship. I think it would be better if Carmy takes the initiative in pushing for this so that people don't wrongly assume that Sydney is the only one with a major crush on Carmy and it was her fault that he didnt pursue anything with Claire. Carmy should show that he is willing to pursue. It's also good for his character growth, so he's not letting things happen. This time, he wants and chases for good things.

In creative partnerships, it's important to be able to push each other to achieve the best results. This mutual push for perfection can lead to pure magic. I've witnessed this dynamic in the kitchen when working with others to create the perfect dish. Competition can be a joyful and productive force when the goal is to bring out the best in one another. When I was acting, I thrived on pushing my scene partner to fully engage and be present in our work, and I loved it when I found that scene partner to do the same to me.

But looking at both creativity and relationship-wise, it seems that pushing is necessary for both Sydney and Carmy's growth. This is a bit scattered, but hopefully, it's clear enough.

[tenderjock]

outstanding leadership, extraordinary initiative, & steadfast devotion to duty

Daniel&Jack&Peggy, and medals earned in wartime.

"You ever notice that Thompson doesn't talk about the Navy Cross?"

Peggy froze in the middle of adding milk to her tea. After a moment, she put the bottle down and stirred carefully, thoughts racing. Without turning to Daniel or letting her surprise inflect her voice, she said, "What do you mean?"

Daniel shrugged, a little jerkily. "I don't know. Everything's always bigger and better with him, you know? He'll tell you how much he earns or how long his - ah, you know, he'll brag. But he changes the topic every time it comes up."

She tapped the spoon against the side of her cup. "Perhaps he -" She broke off, struggling for the words that would turn Daniel's attention away from the issue. "Perhaps he simply doesn't like to talk about things that happened over there. We've all been there; it's never anything like the medals or newsreels seem to say it was."

"Yeah, sure," Daniel said. "It just doesn't seem like Thompson to not tell everyone he knows about it."

"You don't talk about your Purple Heart," Peggy pointed out, not ungently. Daniel stiffened.

"That's different."

"It is," Peggy agreed. "It's different for all of us."

A pair of familiar footsteps joined them at the office commissary before Daniel could respond. Peggy glanced back down into her cup and added a generous spoonful of sugar.

"I see my top agents are spending their workday productively," Jack remarked, his smirk a sharp line in his face.

Peggy shot him a rather arch look. "I see Chief Thompson is having an equally productive day," she said. "Have you admitted defeat yet?"

Jack made a face. He'd been fighting, along with Agent Faut and some rather obnoxious pencil-pushers, to balance the New York SSR's budget for the better part of the week. Most of his morning had been spent in a meeting with the senator's aide.

"I got 'em on the ropes," he said. Daniel clears his throat, rather judgementally.

Peggy isn't quite sure who he's been more upset with recently: Jack, for taking the promotion, or her, for not being bothered by it.

His attitude was a bit annoying, to be honest. Frankly, she was never going to receive a Medal of Honor or the position as New York Chief, no matter who advocated for her or what evidence was presented to the U.S. government. Daniel had to know that, too; the man wasn't stupid. And he had to realize that having Jack in charge, where they could keep an eye on him, was better than any alternative.

"We were discussing wartime medals," Peggy said instead of all that. Jack stiffened; Daniel noticed; Peggy rolled her eyes. "I once knew a man who earned an Order of the Bath for strategic actions in battle." She considered the memory. "He had terrible teeth."

"Order of the Bath?" Jack said, disbelieving.

"For conspicuous heroism taking place in a sauna," Daniel said. Both men laughed. Peggy sniffed. They had no respect, these Americans.

"What about Carter?" Jack asked, still laughing.

Peggy blinked at him. "What about me?" she said.

"What kind of awards did Agent Peggy Carter deign to accept?"

"I didn't earn any," Peggy said stiffly. "Women aren't combatants."

That's a bit of an oversimplification, she will admit in the privacy of her own mind. There were a few medals she could have theoretically earned, from the Americans and her own government, had circumstances regarding her service not been so, well, unique.

Some Englishwomen had received medals, but their service had been different than hers - usually as pilots or somesuch, not the covert missions she had in occupied France and Nazi Germany.

She may have qualified from the U.S. Women's Army Corps Service Medal, although it perhaps would have required Colonel Phillips to pull a few strings. Peggy had occupied a strange place in the war: a woman, first of all, and therefore not allowed in combat or eligible to receive medals for heroism under fire. But she had also been a spy, someone who technically didn't exist; and a British operative working for the Americans. Both sides had simply sort of - cut her loose, after victory was obtained and she was no longer useful.

It was only due to Colonel Phillips' recommendation that she had this job in the first place. Peggy pursed her lips, then shook herself out of her thoughts.

Only to find the two men staring at her like they had just been dunked in ice water. It was a bit unsettling. She took a sip of tea.

"Anyway," she said. "I actually do have work to do. Daniel, try to keep in mind what I was saying."

Jack was frowning at her. Daniel was frowning, too, but his gaze flicked to Jack once when she spoke, before he nodded.

"Sure thing," he said, and shifted on his crutch out of her way to let her back to her desk.

: :

Peggy frequently found herself the last person in the office, nowadays, with the possible exceptions being Daniel and Jack. Right now, Daniel's dark head of curls was bent over his desk and Jack's light was still on in his office, although the blinds were drawn.

They've all been working in a companionable silence for the last two hours. Daniel was eating something that smelled hot and spiced at his desk; little noises kept coming from the Chief's office, the sound of a file cabinet being opened or the desk chair being pushed back.

For Peggy's part, she's been combing through reports of gun sales to women matching Dottie's description in the tri-state area. She has found three that warrant a closer look, and was just about to get herself another cup of tea and really settle in when Jack's door opened and he slouched out.

He stopped in front of her desk. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He stared at her for a second, looking troubled.

"Yes?" she ventured, when it became clear he wasn't going to say anything to her.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, rather abruptly.

Daniel was looking at them now. Peggy drummed her fingernails on her desk, then nodded and followed Jack into his office, where he shut the door behind them.

He then proceeded to stand at his desk, hands braced against the wood, staring blankly. Peggy was honestly starting to get worried, not that she thought letting Jack know that was a good idea.

"Chief Thompson?" she said. She didn't touch his arm, but it was a close thing.

Jack opened his desk drawer and pulled out a box. It looked like a large jewelry box and was made of navy blue leather, with gold detailing. Peggy didn't need to ask what was inside it - even if it hadn't had the name of the medal printed on it in little gold letters, she would have known.

"You should have it," Jack said. His face was grim and set.

"Jack!" Peggy said, shocked.

"You should have it," he insisted. "I don't - it shouldn't be me, anyway. And you deserve it, Peggy. We both know that." Jack glanced at her, then glanced away. "I was going to put it out on my desk but - I couldn't. I can't. You should have it."

Peggy stared at him, feeling like her heart was in her throat. Jack Thompson was a liar, and a fraud, and a self-serving, arrogant pain-in-the-arse to work with, but sometimes he still surprised her.

And, anyway, it would do no one any favors to make this into a bigger deal than it already was. She nodded, and carefully took the box and tucked it under one arm.

"I'll keep it safe," she said quietly. Then, more briskly, "Do you want me to brief you on the progress I've made in the Underwood case?"

"Christ," Jack said, rubbing his eyes. He laughed, a little wetly. "Yeah, that'd be great. Tell me you got something."

They talked for a few minutes. Jack agreed with her that there was meat in the rumor of a bank robbery being planned, although neither of them could fathom why a notorious Communist would want to rob a bank. When Peggy left his office with the Navy Cross in hand, Jack was pouring himself a Scotch, looking exhausted and like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Daniel looked up as Peggy fastened the clasps of her purse and got her coat. "You leaving?" he asked, and then considered her more closely. "Are you okay, Peggy?"

"Yes," she said. "Just, you know." She looked at Jack's office door and clutched the rectangular shape in her purse tighter. "I need to get home."

"I'll walk you out," Daniel said, still watching her. "I'm just about done here anyway."

Peggy waited while he grabbed his coat, hat, and briefcase. She had to watch her pace a bit when she's walking with Daniel, but the company was usually worth it. Tonight, she was tired and a little shaken and a bit too reflective, and she appreciated the distraction of having to make small talk with Daniel as they walked to the subway station together.

As they were waiting for her train - hers was due in four minutes; Daniel's, in six - Daniel said, apropos of nothing, "I guess I just never expect Thompson to care enough about anything to feel, I don't know." He looked across the platform blankly. "Shame or guilt or, or loss. Or anything."

Peggy looked at him. "I know what you mean," she said.

"You know why he doesn't talk about the Navy Cross." It wasn't a question. Daniel wasn't looking at her.

Peggy tucked her heavy purse tighter to her torso and breathed out slowly. "Yes," she said. Just yes, and nothing else.

Daniel nodded, still staring across the empty platform. "Is it something I should know about?"

She gave that some thought. "It's not something I'm going to tell you," she said finally. "Not without Jack's permission, which I don't think he'd give. But it doesn't change who he is, not really. It might explain some of what he's done, recently." Then, because she wanted to be honest with Daniel: "Although you may not like the explanation."

He dipped his chin to his chest. "Alright," he said, then again, quieter, "Alright."

Her train arrived, and Peggy boarded, wishing Daniel a good night. Peggy observed him through the car's dirty, cracked window, a dark figure braced on his crutch, looking down at the concrete beneath his shoes. Peggy put one hand into her purse, pressing her palm against Jack's medal as she watched him.

As the train pulled away from the platform, Daniel seemed to shake himself and turned toward the opposite tracks, where his train going the other direction was arriving.

[cityof2morrow]

CDK: Cubic Dynamics Kitbash - BACKSTORY

Published: 9-14-2024 | Updated: N/A

SUMMARY The Cubic Dynamics Kitbash (CDK) Series is game-ready and will be released over the coming weeks! It includes over 250 items to set up offices, corporations, and other public services. Classic CC gems have been updated with fresh, retro-futuristic detail alongside dozens of new career-themed objects. Simmers in need of “white-collar” environments for their build-a-city challenges (BACC) and/or integrated economy saves will appreciate this collection.

The CDK series includes furniture and a variety of props you’ll need to create functional workplaces. Food, retail, and leisure don’t need to be the only reasons to send sims downtown – time to get to work! Get started with the Company Expo (Simmons, 2024) set, which contains the meshes you’ll need, and browse the series for more! See the #co2cdkseries and #ofbprops tags on this site.

DETAILS (aka THE BACKSTORY) What began as a handful of items for a bank lot grew into the CDK series over nearly two years. I had mods for a fully functional financial operation but lacked CC to simulate the depths of corporate clownery I wanted to . . . sims buzzing about the machine like good little cogs. A binding contract here, a little interest charge there, another meeting that could’ve (and should’ve) been an email, “fill out this form and we’ll get back to you in 3-5 business days!” I knew I wasn’t going to stop at the bank either. My doctors, writers, politicians, and other professionals needed places to do business as well. So, I started with the furniture. I wanted objects that looked timeless (“retro”) but modern (“fit for a futurist”). Pieces needed to be interchangeable (as cogs in the machine often are) and look like they were mass-produced specifically for the corporate world. This called for décor that was uniform (repeating metal, glass, wood, and upholstery), utilitarian (“comfortable enough for the job at hand”), yet unique (“enough to make rank and role clear”). The result was several themed rooms built on the lore and look of the Cubic Dynamics collection (EA/Maxis, 2008). Conformity. Productivity. Efficiency. All the hallmarks of white-collar hell. I added a few supporting sets here and there – wherever it seemed like a good fit. Once I had the right look and feel, I moved on to gameplay. GAMEPLAY and PREFORMANCE A handful of objects have been (re)made to give those simlish practitioners, pencil-pushers, and bureaucrats something to do. These are based on my own gameplay needs, as well as suggestions from folks with similar playstyles like @ChocolateCitySim, @Rachums, @Gayars, and @Yessu. They range from printers to job boards to loan contracts. I recommend using them alongside other mods to give your sims lots of things to do in the workplace. You’ll find them under the #ofbprops tag.

The CDK series is mostly low-poly and uses the repository technique to save game resources. Some high-poly objects are included but they can be easily discarded  – they’re not required and there are dozens of others to choose from – office chairs tend to be higher in poly count in general. There are some items (and thumbnails!*!) I wish I could perfect , but why let “perfect” win over “well done?”

[argumentalist]

I'm building another Witch from Mercury kit this week - the Gundam Lfrith Ur.

Out of curiosity, how are folks pronouncing "Lfrith"?

Elefrith? L-F-rith? Lifrith?

Seems to me that it sounded something like "rubris" in the anime.

I'm slowly working my way through my HGWFM backlog. These are all truly fantastic kits. I haven't honestly been disappointed by one of them yet.

I decided, right off the bat, to use the stickers in this kit. I wasn't very happy with how my attempt at painting the Lfrith Thorn went. I didn't want a repeat of that frustration.

The good news is that if you do a halfway-decent job of debossing the stickers they actually look pretty good. I used a wooden cuticle-pusher and it's great for pressing the stickers into all the little recesses. Here on the chest, for example, there's some actual depth and dimension to those stickers in the shell.

The head is just impressive.

There's 10 separate bits of plastic in there. The eyes and that front head camera are green plastic - they would've been very easy to paint if I wasn't using stickers. That tiny bit of red for the chin - also separate plastic. There's a bit of black plastic around the eyes too, not the usual black sticker.

And I love how everything layers-up with the bits of white showing through the teal.

The arms are another example of the fantastic color-separation.

Remember that Thunderbolt Full Armor Gundam I built a couple weeks back? How there were all those tiny color-correcting stickers for those little thrusters everywhere? The thrusters in the shoulders here are separate bits of plastic. No stickers needed.

In fact... Basically all the stickers are shiny foil stickers for the shell effects. No color-correcting stickers at all.

This kit feels a little light on the accessories... There's the phased array cannon on the back, the beam gatling gun with its shield, and a couple beam-sabers.

I like how the beam-sabers store on the shield. And the shield can be attached either to the beam gatling gun or right to the arms. The weapons are all completely ambidextrous - they're not stuck on any particular arm.

And, even better, the kit comes with a couple open/expressive hands in addition to the closed/holding hands. Always a nice bonus.

While there's obvious similarities to the Lfrith Thorn... Unlike something like the Gundvolva the ties back to the Lfrith aren't real obvious. I haven't looked up a lot of info about this suit... But I wonder if that's because it was developed from the Pre-Production model, rather than the actual Lfrith.

Like I said at the start - this is a fantastic kit. It feels nice and sturdy. Despite its bulk, it's well-articulated. Poses well and stays where you put it. Despite the size of that beam gatling there's absolutely no problem holding it.

I'm going to be sad when I run out of new HGWFM kits to build.

[sergle]

Hey! Can I ask you for some advice? I want to get my friend a gift, but she's the type who will not accept expensive gifts, she prefers to treat herself. But, she DOES love cosmetics like nail polish, and I thought, ohhh, I know who to ask about that. So, do you have any recommendations for good bang for your buck for the gal who has everything, nail polish-wise?

HMMMMM!!! That's hard if she's The Gal Who Has Everything, if you dip into a brand that you know she likes, then you can't be totally sure you're not buying her a polish she already has... you're going to have to break into her house and write down the names of all her nail polish No but like. As a nail polish girl, the first thing on the table is that this is a rare occasion where I don't think a gift card is a cop out at all! Like, if there's a specific brand she really goes after, then going that route would just allow her to pick up a future release of her choosing, or specific stuff she has an eye on. If she's a nail polish girlie but has a brand you DON'T think she's frequented a lot (mooncat, ilnp, starrily, holotaco are all ones with catalogues that I like a lot- mooncat is probably highest quality and ilnp has the most range and the best deals) then hitting some of the polishes from there will mean you aren't risking doubling her up on some product. As far as picking colors and finishes, that's the fun part, that'd be up to you. The last option, also, the foolproof one: get shades from a collection of polish that is a New Release! And pray that she's not buying it at the same time as you. lmao Bang for your buck: I think one of the more fun things I've gotten for myself was gold leaf/gold flake? that shit they put on ice cream to justify the price hike in expensive restaurants. It's very very cheap to pick some up, and it's fun to use for nail art! You can also get her Tools and Basics that are helpful, like unusual magnets if she uses magnetic polish, glass nail files, cuticle pushers, stamping plates, or maybe a cute nail mat. One of those silicone ones. If she does gel (or is inch rested in it but hasn't done it herself) there are some pretty affordable gel kits by beetles, w the curing lamps too, I actually got one for myself one time. (but I don't do gel nails anymore) (I don't like taking them off) (but if she's a long-wear nails person she might enjoy doing gels at home) and if you do this, then you so need to buy her some buffing powders. That's like the number one reason to try gel, is you get to use those cool as fuck powders that don't work on regular nail polish. The Twinkled T ones are great. Buffing powders are how you get those really smooth glass-like looks like this:

and a tub of that shit is like $12. But it doesn't work on regular polish! I think that's all I've got. hope that helps!!

[rintoshis-archived]

Hiii if your requests are open also sorry if they arent you can just completely ignore this message cause u dont have a pinned yet

But can i request platonic friendship headcanons with bachira and isagi?

Thank you in advance

─ BACHIRA ⸜ ISAGI ꒰ა ໒꒱ AEAO

HI BAE !! yes yes and sorry i don't have enough time to make my pinned post but ill for sure make one! also this request was so cute ^^ i couldn't help but think about dynamicduo when i hear them together >< anyways enjoy! . *. ⋆ warnings; nothing really, cute moments with their silly little shenanigans, intentional lower capitals ✧. word count: 475, 366

you almost felt your eardrums burst from meguru's high-pitched scream he let out in your left ear. this car ride was hell, even if there were places worse than hell, it would be crushed in the backseat with isagi and bachira. you could feel your legs cramping from the lack of space isagi's manspreading on the right side. you were inevitably squashed in between them. it didn't help when you were sitting on the hard material of the seatbelt right on your ass.

meguru and isagi's moms offered to drive you three to the arcade because the mall they were going to was awfully close to it. ''gosh.. seeing meguru go out with his friends like this.. makes my heart soft.'' yu's eyes almost water as her hands trembled on the steering wheel. ''mom, don't cry please.'' meguru told his mom, almost feeling embarrassed as his figure only sank further in the seat. you knew bachira was a talented individual and you didn't quite understand what his mom had just said.

isagi looked like he knew this feeling all too well. ''there's nothing to be embarrassed about, meguru.'' isagi's mom butt in as she turned her head to look at the three of you fighting over even just a space to breathe easily in. ''i remember isagi also never been the social butterfly like his dad was. the friends he only ever took home were the soccer team.'' i let out a small laugh as i saw the neon-lit arcade from the road. ''here should be fine, thank you so much for- meguru!'' meguru had already opened the door and dashed inside the arcade.

isagi waited for you to finish your farewells and bid his mom a quick ''goodbye, mom'' too. bachira's mom rolled down the window to give us three a small wave and drove away. meguru looked like a ticking time bomb while looking at what was inside of the arcade. people were scattered everywhere and no space wasn't filled with rainbow blinding lights that only enticed bachira further.

your almost popped out of their sockets once they landed on the bright rainbow glowing sign on top of the building. you weren't the type to go around and hang out at places and waste away the time you could use to be more productive. but since meguru and isagi kindly invited you to hang out together outside bluelock. ''c'mon, y/n! it'll be fun, promise.'' bachira grabs you by your hand and drags you inside of the building to go explore. isagi follows behind and gives you a small smile of reassurance.

''yeah, it would be more worth it to spend all your time outside of bluelock having fun, right?'' you three spot a basketball game and a bumper car area. safe to say, you three almost got kicked out 6 times already.

ㄔ    ִ  alright now onto the headcanons c:

ㄔ    ִ  bachira definitely accidentally threw a basketball at a kid once.

ㄔ    ִ  isagi helped meguru climb the machine to keep shooting the ball inside the ring to get like 1000 tickets or something 💀💀

ㄔ    ִ  isagi knows every single hack to win every prize you wanted in claw games.

ㄔ    ִ  bachira fought a kid to get to play in one of the games; ''you've been in this seat for so long, kid!'' bachira whined while watching the kid stick out his tongue to him, but he bit back by sticking out his tongue back.

ㄔ    ִ  isagi is a boss at those coin pusher machines and always manages to waste every one of your coins but ends up making the whole tower fall

ㄔ    ִ  a worker at the arcane had to hold bachira back and when i tell you they had to HOLDDD him back, i say HOLDDDDD him back.

ㄔ    ִ  like it took them 3 workers to hold him back from knocking a kid out for ruining his win streak or something.

ㄔ    ִ  you and isagi for sure always team up for those zombie gun shooting games.

ㄔ    ִ  bachira would absolutely destroy those DDR machines. (the arrow dance machine where you step on them) like you and isagi had to pry him away from the machine to go check out other games cuz he's been there for like 43 minutes.

ㄔ    ִ  like i can just imagine bachira dancing to one of those hyper-pop songs on the ddr machine.

ㄔ    ִ  you and meguru literally almost broke the wack-a-mole machine cause meguru pulled a mole out of the hole.

ㄔ    ִ  isagi is the type of kid to eat all of the cotton candy.

ㄔ    ִ  bachira definitely climbed on isagi's back while he was rollerskating. the kids were giving them the stink eye while you were literally struggling to stand on your two left feet.

ㄔ    ִ  at the end of the day, you three got kicked out for wreaking havoc in the arcade.

ㄔ    ִ  (you three got banned from it for the rest of your life.)

‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy - a/n: send in an ask to request this with any other duo you want from blue lock c:

[blossomingframe]

Secretary

I’m still working on plot shit for my previously promised slobby monster story so have a vintage threesome one shot so I can practice my format for longer stories.

Tw; misogyny,anxiety mention, alcohol mention, dubious consent related to alcohol

Kinks; slob, weight gain,fart,burps,bloating,intox,BDSM

Pansy’s speech

Reginald’s speech

Delilah’s speech

It was Delilah’s first day working at I tepruar Metals. She packed a small lunch on purpose because after years of high waisted dresses she wasn’t sure how her figure would hold up in a pencil skirt. Not that she’d ever worn one before. When she was in high school and college she wore pedal pushers and after her graduation she got pregnant soon after. She hadn’t worn something so “showy” since her childhood. However that was the least of her concerns. Even as one of two secretaries she was expected to be sharp and after 15 years of housekeeping her brain had probably atrophied.

As her husband walked in she snapped out of her daze and finished placing salad leaves in her Tupperware. “ good morning sweetheart I’m a little nervous about going to work but I’m still fine to make your breakfast” she said, greeting him as she did most mornings. But different. He just nodded, slapped her ass and smiled. He meant no harm. Delilah always joked he was a blue collar man stuck in a middle class life. He was strait-laced, down-to-earth. Delilah served him his eggs then said “the new nanny is already upstairs waking up the children” and rushed out.

Reginald like to get into the office early. His home felt so empty and he liked to get some work done before everyone showed up. Plus his favourite breakfast was donuts and spiked coffee at his desk which might lead to some judgement. Especially how he acted whilst consuming it. As he got to the end of both an important form and his fourth donut he let out a massive belch then buttoned and zipped his pants. Everyone would be showing up soon. Especially his new secretary who made a point of saying how punctual she is during the interview. He could feel some gurgling in his stomach but those would have to wait at least until the new girl was situated.

And what a new girl she was. Reginald would freely admit he partially hired her for her looks but seeing a gal in an A-line dress and a ponytail was very different to seeing her in an almost skin tight blouse and skirt with heels. Plus what he would never admit was that part of her appeal was the visible belly rounding out her skirt. Reginald realised he was staring then gathered himself, shook her hand and got her sat down at her desk. Pansy wasn’t looking too bad either today. But he needed to press on regardless of what his animal urges told him.

This new hire wouldn’t be so hard to train. Pansy knew Reginald better than to expect someone brainless just because she had “assets” but this Delilah woman seemed almost a fantasy. The wisdom of a mother of five kids, a chemical engineering degree and fast, clear handwriting. Plus she wasn’t exactly complaining about having a curvaceous, cutesy coworker. Pansy didn’t exactly proclaim the poems of Sappho but she had kissed and handled just as many old secretaries as Reginald had.

Pansy knew today wouldn’t be very productive. In between the constant questions from Delilah who was as inexperienced as she was diligent, Reginald’s clearly bloated stomach catching her eye whenever he blustered through their office to the rest of building and the near constant siren song of their offices seemingly endless coffee and snacks she was plenty busy. At roughly three the biggest distraction of them all presented itself. Delilah ran in the direction of the bathroom after no bathroom breaks all day and constant coffee top ups. After 15 minutes she decided to go check on her.

Delilah sat on the toilet dumbfounded. Her husband regularly talked about having six cups a day but not a word about its “side effects”. Another burp slipped out of her throat. The ladies toilet was thankfully empty so she could be unladylike in private. It still felt so shameful though. She rubbed the red marks on her taut belly. At home her sensitive stomach was no issue, with the kids at school she was mostly alone so could just shut the windows and ride it out. Plus these new clothes were much tighter. She pushed down on her navel and let out a stream of farts.

“Delilah are you okay? Are you having woman’s issues?” Shit. Her coworker Pansy may be a frequent snacker but she still stayed the ever poised professional. Delilah in that moment resigned to her fate of being fired “uurp no. I think I frrrt had too much coffee” Pansy would find out soon enough. “Open the door I can help you” Delilah opened the door, desperate to get it over and done with but instead Pansy shut and locked the stall door and asked if she could unbutton Delilahs blouse. She nodded trying to not let the jostling lead to burping in her coworkers face. Pansy did so then asked if she could massage Delilahs belly. Delilah nodded again and quickly found herself in a trance as Pansy’s cool fingers lulled her instantly. She sat completely blissed out and barely aware that she had forgone all pretence and was currently letting out a stream of loud burps, farts and moans.

Reginald loved meetings. Most people found them a distraction from work at best but they were his favourite part of the job. It helped being the boss. He loved charming clients, talking to his people and looking at presentations. When he started gaining weight after his marriage imploded he was nervous that he wouldn’t be taken seriously but the numbers had actually jumped upwards. Maybe his new soft physique was more relatable. The one issue was his new found appreciation for food left him feeling gassy and bloated in meetings which was an unwelcome distraction. Especially today. His stomach had chosen today, the day he had three meetings and a new hot secretary to launch a full offensive.

After his last meeting of the day he snuck into the supply closet next to the meeting room and immediately undid his pants. Then making sure the door was locked he cocked his leg and let out a stream of farts. They absolutely reeked. What could have lead to this? As he jiggled his belly to work up some burps he looked down. He did not remember his belly being that big. Maybe he’d gone too far. But he also noticed something else. He was rock hard. Ever since he started eating more and stopped going to all those couples activities he’d noticed that he felt fantastic when he acted gross. He felt horny, he felt manly, he felt the best about himself he had in years. As he belched and patted his dick he debated in his head his persona as a charismatic gentleman. Maybe post-divorce he could evolve. Or more aptly devolve. Pansy all ready knew about his antics and didn’t seem to think less of him. “Buuuuuuurrrrrrpp” for now though the shame lived on.

Pansy was in heaven. A cute, fat girl burping in her face? Yes. Said girl also letting out comedically loud farts. Yes. Her sweet blissed out facial expression was the cherry on top. The only thing that could have made it better was if she could kiss and squeeze Delilah too. She was getting pretty gassy herself as her late lunch settled but she figured Delilah wouldn’t mind. She let out her own duo of loud burps followed up by loud fart. Delilah looked even happier so Pansy laughed it off and burped again. And again. And again. God it felt good. Then something unexpected happened. Delilah kissed her on the mouth.

Things escalated quickly. The next thing Pansy knew she was farting into Delilah’s lap and grabbing her breasts. Delilah pulled her in and burped in her face. Then there was another complete blur and they were both running back to the office holding their blouses closed. They ran into the office and shut the door. “Reginald won’t be back from his meetings for a while” Pansy explained before pulling Delilah to the floor and stripping off both their blouses and bras. Pansy then got onto all fours and farted in Delilah’s face. Then she sat onto her lap and they started kissing and humping each other in a flurry of movement. Neither of them thought to check the clock. Or to even think about their boss until a gruff voice behind them said “uurp my office is more comfortable”.

“Are we in trouble?” “Like Hell you’re in trouble. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen” Pansy grinned. “I knew that you were a pig boss but I’m impressed” . It was in that moment that Delilah’s brain finally noticed his unbuttoned trousers, his bloated belly, the flask in his hand, the steady stream of farts, the food stains on his shirt and the fact that his other hand was in his underwear. Delilah knew what to do. She pulled him into a hug, kissed him on the mouth then pushed against his belly. “It’s only fair to return the favour piggy” Reginald burped in her face then pulled her into his office. Pansy followed sitting on Reginald’s desk. Delilah felt hot all over. She stripped off the last of her clothes, then took the flask from Reginald’s hand and took a swig. “Atta girl! I love you already”. Pansy hugged her as Delilah burped and said “solid hiring decision. Bo-uurrp-sss”

Both Reginald and Pansy stripped the rest of their clothes then Reginald lied down on his desk and Delilah sat on his pelvis. Then as Pansy wheeled toward her she pulled her up and Pansy sat behind her and wrapped her legs around her. Delilah pulled Pansy’s hands onto her belly. Then Delilah started rubbing Reginald’s hairy gut. They burped at the same time as Pansy let out a rippling fart that shook them both. Delilah and Reginald continued to burp at each other as Pansy humped Delilah desperately. Reginald leaned upwards and grabbed Pansy’s ass. Delilah grabbed Reginald’s dick and placed it inside herself then started pushing herself into him.

Reginald missed his flask. Sure it was sexy as hell when Delilah drank from it but that was the last of his booze. And he was starving. But he still had a good buzz going so there was no reason to worry. He focused on his throbbing dick inside Delilah’s warm tight pussy and Pansy’s ass in his hands. He thrusted into Delilah and with each thrust he felt more and more like he was floating. Both of them smelt so good. Of sweat and floral perfume and ink and cabbage. He let out another loud belch and felt his eyes roll back into his head as he came. He screamed with pleasure “wy pierdolone anioły!”, gripping Pansy’s ass so hard she screamed in pain.

Reginald kept thrusting until eventually he saw Delilah screw up her eyes then felt the shaking sensation of her body as she finished. Reginald sat up as Delilah and Pansy got down. Delilah stroked his face and said “lie down love” he could feel himself sobering up but he still settled back down. Delilah then knelt on the floor next to his face while Pansy stood up on the other end. Pansy started rubbing his belly with one hand and his leaky cock in the other. Delilah started kissing him and burping in his mouth. Reginald returned the favour and she grabbed him by the neck and started kissing him with tongue. God he was so lucky he got to hire such hot girls.

Pansy loved the feeling of hot cum on her hands. But the heavy petting had to end at some point. She was cold. She tapped Reginald on the hip then stopped rubbing him. She thought about Delilah and Reginald’s bodies. Reginald had gotten so hot since his divorce. In between the extra 50 pounds, the whiskey habit loosening him up and his new slobby ways he had gone from merely handsome to a certified cutie. Then there was Delilah with her loose hair and nervous manners she was so sweet but her rebellious streak was powerful and sexy. Both of them were so hot.

Her sweater felt softer than usual when she placed it on her shoulders. “I farted on it” Delilah winked. She’d been sat in the office chair in her underwear and Reginald’s blazer for a while now. She had just been staring into space smirking. Reginald had curled up on the floor in the corner. He did that. Reginald got guilty after sex especially since he usually had to get drunk before hand to not feel guilty in the first place. “Did you have fun love?” Pansy said while she sauntered toward her. “What does this mean for me?” “It means you like hot people. Doing hot things. Don’t worry about it.” “But you’re so…so different. And not just in good ways. You’re so forward! And you’re kind of rude.” “Fair. But just because you’re into girls and weirder stuff doesn’t mean you’re mean like me”. “Huh-hmm I guess. Can one of you call me a cab home I missed the bus.” “I’ll do it. See you tomorrow!” Pansy ran to her desk and called Delilah a taxi while she got dressed. When Delilah went home she walked feeling the night breeze on her face. With those two around she’d need the walk to calm down after work.

They were the most effective, and disgusting, administration team I tepruar Metals ever had.