Adult cam chat

2018.11.08 11:03 henriduf community of webcam girl chat websites users

This is a Reddit for users of cam girl chat websites. we report the news and reviews related to adult webcam chat websites like porn stars webcam chat profiles, cam girl sites reviews.
[link]


2019.03.28 22:42 jojosgirls Adult cam chat

A sub for existing cammodels and other cybersex workers ONLY! **SO NO "HOW DO I GET STARTED?" POSTS!** Share your advice, funny camming experiences, client cringe, ask questions, and just chat. We welcome camgirls, camboys, and adult webcam performers of all genders, orientations, abilities, and styles. Only approved cam girls, cam boys, cam models, clip models, and other cyber sex workers can post here, see pinned post for more info. **DO NOT ADVERTISE YOUR CAM ROOM OR SERVICES HERE!**
[link]


2020.10.25 09:04 Etoile67gp How can I have BPD if I’m high functioning and behave like a chameleon?

Hi... first post in here. I’ve (M53) been diagnosed with C-PTSD/ severe depression but never BPD until yesterday. First appointment with a new psychologist and after a pretty long chat where I was divulging a lot of stuff I’ve kept from all my previous therapists, because I liked playing the chameleon with people, she told me straight away that I showed all the symptoms of having BPD. Now I live in France and BPD/C-PTSD are mental health issues that don’t get a lot of media attention. I’ve been previously diagnosed with C-PTSD having experienced lots of childhood trauma/ emotional neglect/ toxic narcissistic parenting/ arrested emotional development.
I guess you’d call me high functioning. I’ve no problem holding down a job, changing careers, being very good at what I do, socialising with colleagues, living on my own and bringing up/ looking after my kids. I’ve spent a lot of my life just doing things on my own and getting used to self managing everything. The issues I’ve also had are over sharing info with people i’ve just met, extremely impulsive behaviour such as going out and buying a car instead of grocery shopping, risky personal behaviour ( driving too fast, going away on the spur of the moment to race sports car on a circuit) mountain biking over rocky terrain and not giving a shit if I fall and break something, being too open honest and frank with people so I often end up provoking negative reactions. Hyper sexualised behaviour ( linked to previous one... obsessed with sex.... sleeping with 200+ SWs/ multiple hook ups on adult/SWs forums, cam girls, bdsm sex. ). Substance abuse spending all my time at university high on weed/acid/speed. Feeling unintelligent even though i obtained a graduate degree just by turning up on the day of my exams and remembering things I’d stored in my head. A history of heavy drinking and managing to keep it secret from family/ work colleagues. Intense feelings of never belonging anywhere, spacing out ( dissociation) during conversations, fear of emotional intimacy, wild mood swings which can last from several hours to several days, emotional attachment and abandonment issues, severe self blame and guilt, anxiety and panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares, insomnia, creative highs when I can work 24h non stop with no rest/sleep and forgetting to eat/drink then periods when I’m absolutely empty of inspiration, boredom and feeling ‘empty’, eating disorders, huge emotional swings where I can go from intensely passionate/ loving/ joyful to feeling intense angerage and bitterness and keeping it all locked up inside, and being almost chameleon like in my ability to change my moods/body language/ way of talking depending on who I’m with. I’ve also seen too many therapists and psychologists to last a lifetime and each time I’d add on something, or remove something and try to put on an act and shape my answers depending on what kind of questions they’d be asking me, because I knew what answers they were looking for and what diagnosis they’d give me. I’ve no idea why the hell i kept doing that. I also withdrew physically and emotionally when I gave mood swings. ( deep attachment then feeling abandoned). I can extremely people pleasing one moment, incredibly stubborn and difficult the next. I love pleasing sexually my partners, be it my ex wife, SWs or submissives. I crave being sexually dominant in my intimate relationships ( I’m a Dom in D/s dynamics) and swing between wanting to please them first then inflicting/ giving them pain.
I’ve no idea what to do with this therapist’s diagnosis. I’m already seeing a psychiatrist and a sexologist. I keep changing my career plans and goals depending on how I feel. I can be extremely hard working then fall into the depths of apathy. Feeling thoroughly depressed since I genuinely want a better life. I want to feel good about myself and I can only feel that through addictive behaviour. It feels like I’ve been cursed with something I didn’t deserve. Something that’s made me different from everyone else. I really want to improve my life but I constantly feel like I’m weighed down and rooted to the spot like a ship with heavy anchors. Has anyone else felt the same and how did you deal with it?
submitted by Etoile67gp to BorderlinePDisorder [link] [comments]


2020.10.25 03:47 ThrowRA-ThrowAway-RA Adult cam chat

Dear Reddit, today I’m posting because of a problem I’m in my relationships, the current date is October 24th 2020.
My friend who we’ll call sally has know me since grade school but she’s always been very critical of things, like everything honestly. I know it’s just how she is especially about anything related to relationships but honestly sally is starting to get to me, Sally is 21, my boyfriend Ashton, or Ash as I call him, is 22, and I’m 18 but I’m turning 19 in January.
I’m going to try to give details but be short with this, anyway, Sally has always been very critical and... idealistic? About relationships but we definitely don’t have the same ideals, she’s always wanted some Prince Charming with short hair, dresses properly, no tattoos or piercings or crazy hair colours, she also thinks relationships should work a certain way, no gifts should be exchanged, sex or affectionate should be held off till marriage, relationships and affection should not be shown in public what so ever.
I’m very different, I like guys with crazy hair and tattoos and piercings, someone who isn’t afraid to express themselves, I absolutely love gifts and affection! And April of this year I literally meant the guy of my dreams, he’s tall, handsome, loves skateboarding which he’s taught me how to do, and he has tattoos and the wildest hairstyle you’ve ever seen, he’s all about self expression and art.
Anyway, my friend sally keeps making mountains from molehills, my boyfriend Ash bought me this absolutely gorgeous necklace, it has a heart shaped diamond and it’s gold, it was a little pricey but i thought it was really sweet, so i messaged my group chat of friends and was all like omg guys Ash just got me the most gorgeous thing, you know what sally does? She replies with a fucking wall of text (excuse my language) a whole wall of text, about how couples shouldn’t buy each other things because it’s materialistic.
Another thing that’s happened was me and Ashton and Sally and Ash’s brother Cam (28M but it’s not really relevant honestly) Are going to go to the local park and hangout for the day, so me and Ash are sitting on the grass and his arms around me, Sally freaks out, also Ash compliments me on like everything I do 24/7 which is really nice for me because my parents and friends were never really affectionate or anything, he also has his arms around me or holds my hand 24/7 which I absolutely love, and kisses my cheek or my forehead all the time, but sally always comments on it and bugs us about it, I’m not talking About how Ashton’s brother does it playfully and goes “oh get a room love birds” and stuff like that no she starts belittling me saying affection in public is inappropriate.
She never does this is front of Ash and I don’t want to tell him because I don’t want to cause drama but it’s making me insecure, another thing me and some friends and they’re boyfriends and Ash had a girls night at my house, so everyone’s exhausted so Ash is like “alright me and Luna are heading up to her room then” so me and him went to my room and we were watching a movie, so things ended up getting a little heated because you know, we’re both young adults and hormones and stuff and then sally walks in and we’re making out, she flips, absolutely fucking flips. She smashed the door against the wall and asks what’s going on and is all like “what on earth are you doing? Having sex??!?” Which was a huge overreaction in my opinion and Ash was like “yeah, pretty much, can you go please clearly we’re in the middle of something” that was the one time she started freaking out in front of him lecturing him and me.
Honestly I’m really feeling insecure about myself because of this and yeah I’ve asked sally if she could please not comment on a bunch of stuff and she said that she only wanted the best for me and that I’m ungrateful and a bad friend because she’s older and I should listen to her, In my defence though I think since I’m 18 I deserve privacy and just because we’re friends doesn’t mean she should try to control my relationships and friendships, is they’re anyway to get this through to her without sounding rude/mean? I’ve never been good at confrontation but I guess since I’m turning 19 soon and I’ll be able to drink and all that that I should be able to handle this. So I’m here for advice, I think she’s being rude honestly I’m adult I don’t need her medaling in my love life.
submitted by ThrowRA-ThrowAway-RA to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.16 16:17 anonzzz123 Adult cam chat

I know I'm probably going to get a lot of "you're an idiot" and that's probably true and what I need to hear so here goes.
I started visiting a girl on a cam site which I've done before many times and many different girls. This one just somehow clicked with me though and I liked her more than any others I'd talked to before. I didn't care though because I'm a realist and I knew there's no point in harassing these girls with my feelings when they're just doing a job. So I left it alone, we chatted back and forth on Instagram between her shows and such, just normal chat about things we had in common and little video or audio clips here and there (not adult related). We had a lot in common but I naturally assumed she just faked that with all her fans.
Then she asked me to add her on battle .net (gaming platform for those who don't know) so we could play Hearthstone together, I thought weird but maybe she thinks this will make me more likely to tip her in the future. So I added her and every time we were both online that she wasn't camming she'd ask me to play a few games and we'd flirt in chat. Still, even as my feelings for her grew I just assumed this was part of the end game of getting more money out of me so I left it alone.
Then last night she confronted me basically asking if I even liked her that much because she felt that I'd rejected all her advances. That led to a very honest conversation between the two of us, at least it felt like she was being honest, where we basically told each other how we felt. I told her I did have feelings for her but I'm sure every guy tells her that so I didn't want to even bring it up. She told me that she had feelings for me and even though we are far apart she wanted to explore them. She then called me this morning and we talked on the phone for two hours before we both had to work.
This girl is basically as if I could create a girl exactly the way I wanted to so my judgement is definitely clouded. As much as I want to believe her everything in my brain says this can't possibly be real and I don't want to let my guard down and get even more emotionally attached to her if she's just playing me for more money. I mean, if it's real then I would be all about it but if it's not I'd rather just keep enjoying her show and pretending that she likes me like every other cam girl...
So, am I an idiot for even considering the possibility that she isn't just trying to milk me for more money? I just need someone to give me some confirmation that either this is a bad idea or tell me I'm being too cynical.
submitted by anonzzz123 to Advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.06 11:38 BloodySpaghetti Adult cam chat

Rodrick Vargmann was an odd man, to say the least. He wasn’t harmful or anything. At least I’d like to hope so. I liked Roddy. Regardless of what anyone thinks of him. Again, he was a very weird man. He cut most of his ties with friends and relatives once he left for college. As far as I know, he didn’t bother making any friends throughout his adult life. Those he did befriend were coincidental and usually consisted of people who had similar interests to his, like myself.
Roddy was a recluse. He’d stick to staying in his apartment and doing his thing from home. Reading this, it’s easy to assume he was some bloated neck bearded redneck antisocial clown who blamed the world for his problems. However, that’s not the case. His problems mostly consisted of him being overweight and avoidant. It’s hard to even call him a misanthrope. It’s not that he hated people, he just never liked human company. Other than that, he was the average Joe, physically speaking, mentally - not so much. The guy was an artistic genius according to some people. That’s how he made a living, various artistic commissions and payments he was owed for letting others use his creations.
While creating art was his job and a thing, he was fairly decent at, his true passion was the critique. He loved fiction, but his standard for what should be considered a good piece of fiction was impossibly high. He’d criticize and riff on everything he could get his hands on, regardless of the genre. To be totally honest, he used to write some too, but his work was largely not great. He knew how to build up a plot really well up to the climax, but then he’d pull an unrelated or unsatisfying twist and kill the suspense with no reward. People called him out on that but he, in his usual spirit, remained dismissive and opted to excuse his lackluster writing as something he does for the fun of it.
I met him online after he had given me one of his rare positive reviews on one of my stories. We’ve chatted for a while and ended up realizing we’re neighbors. That’s how my friendship with Roddy Vargmann began.
He’d constantly tell me about how this piece of internet fiction or another was absolute garbage. Most of the time he was just overreacting. Like most things in life, most amateur fiction is average. My own included, I’d say, but Roddy thought most of it was equivalent to nuclear waste. For that attitude, Roddy got himself a fair share of haters. Most people would dismiss Roddy as the asshole he was, while others loathed him to the point of throwing a fit whenever they’d see his internet alias, Demoncanine. Someone even tried doxing him once but ended up getting the wrong information and probably ended up exposing some poor innocent soul. Roddy found that amusing, I remember telling it wasn’t funny, and he said that he was laughing at what he called “the losers who would attempt to hurt a guy over a few words online regarding their shitty fanfics.”
That’s how this man has always operated. In some senses he saw himself as superior to everyone else. He didn’t carry himself like he was the best at everything, he just looked down at people most times and made excuses for his behavior. The guy was truly an awful individual at points. He helped expose some guy who was embroiled in a “feud” of sorts with him as a financial scammer which was good. He made it seem like it was all about helping the victims get justice. However, he declined on doing the same when it came to any other piece of shit out there that was mentioned to him. He’d say, “Oh, I don’t know this person…” and switch the topic to avoid having to deal with that.
I’m not here to speak ill of the person, though. Roddy Vargmann was actually a respected member of the neighborhood, by all accounts. He was surprisingly pleasant to people in person when he was forced to interact with others.
We used to hang out about every other week, but these hangouts turned less and less frequent in the months leading up to his demise. I remember one day we scheduled to meet at the bar for a couple of drinks. I showed up before Roddy and waited for him. When he showed up, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. He was all pale and covered in sweat, his breath was erratic and seemed blown up. I remember jumping up from my seat to ask him what was up, and he said he was Ok. Professing he’d been having a little trouble with anxiety and plagued by bad sleep. That evening, he was unusually docile and quiet. I had to force the conversation to keep going because he wasn’t entirely there. I remember asking him a few times if he was sure he was alright, and he’d snap at me with an increasing anger that he was actually alright. So, I let him be.
After that evening, our interactions became less and less frequent. His behavior towards me and online became more and more erratic. We’d start a normal conversation and suddenly he would either go silent or stop replied to my messages only to come back later stressing how he’s sorry and that he wasn’t feeling well.
His critique and ridicule of amateur authors had become harsher as time went by. Even things he deemed acceptable before had turned into “rancid verbal filth” in his eyes. From insulting people’s works, he started dishing personal attacks towards anyone who dared ignite his ire. While he remained fairly friendly to me and his other friends, being associated with him came to be somewhat unpleasant. People knew I was friends with the guy and would pester me to cut him off before he’d hurt me too.
I stuck with him. Something about his slow progression into oblivion was fascinating and terrifying. One day he told me out of the blue about a dream he had. In his dream, Roddy found himself tied to a blood-stained table, naked and gagged. He said he tried wriggling out and screaming for help but couldn’t. According to him, the room was dark and dimly lit by a single light bulb emitting red a faint red light. The door in front of him flung open a massive creature stepped forward. It was a massive crocodilian mountain of a man that marched towards him, sending waves of anxiety through his body. The beast ended up shoving its clawed hand into his chest, breaking through his skin, muscles and rib cage before grabbing his heart and crushing it in its hand before pulling it out and devouring the bloodied organ.
Roddy said he woke up feeling like his chest had been caved in. He had mentioned not being able to force himself to get up for a few moments before he finally managed to sit up. A sharp pain coursed through his rib cage. He concluded his story by saying he woke up with a bit of blood smeared on his lips.
I told him to see a doctor, but he refused to listen, assumed he was just being anxious and biting his lip during his sleep.
I tried talking some sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen.
It all went downhill from there. His critiques became more frequent and more violent, outright violent. Insulting and verbally battering any flaw he could find in a piece of fiction. He also turned more anxious, it appears, because he deleted most of his social media accounts. I kept seeing his alias pop up in forums and sites I frequent at an alarming rate. A few long posts a day. He was probably skipping work to write his reviews. I’ve decided to not bother with the guy anymore. He had some serious health condition and ignored my advice. Why should I bother with making sure he keeps his income steady? Wasn’t my problem.
After a month of silence, he video-called me shaking and visibly confused. His room was dark and completely silent. He looked at me through the camera lens and whispered, “Can you see it?”
I was confused, “huh? Dude, are you alright?”
“Can you see it?” he motioned to the left with his eyes.
“I can’t see anything other than your wasted mug, are you high on something?” I responded.
“The fucking crocodile’s here…” he whispered, nervously looking to the left without moving his head.
“You need help man, there are no crocodiles in there. You’re alone. I’m going to come over, and we’ll have a chat about your health, buddy.” I told him.
“N-n-n-no no no,” he mumbled before turning off the video chat.
He did look heavier than the last time I’d seen him, and he was being paranoid about some crocodile. He was definitely losing his mind. The guy needed help, and I opted to give it to him. Even if he’d hate to admit it, he needed medical attention. Both mental and physical.
Without thinking too hard, I grabbed my coat and made my way towards Roddy’s apartment. It was the third apartment complex away from mine, virtually a two-minute walk at a snail’s pace. I got to his place and found his mailbox filled with bills. He wasn’t the kind of person to skip on not checking his mail, he was too meticulous for that. I climbed up the stairs and knocked on the door. There was no reply. I knocked again, still nothing. Worried, I started banging on his door, but the only response I’ve gotten was an eerie silence.
One of his neighbors came out asking me what all the commotion was about. I told him about the video call and Roddy’s overall situation. The neighbor said it was weird because nobody had seen or heard anything coming out of Roddy’s apartment in weeks. Not even the occasional blaring of music they had gone so used to.
I yelled out, “Shit!” thinking something might’ve happened to the guy. I pushed the handle as hard as I could and the door open slightly with a chilling creak.
“Son of a bitch!” I hissed, before kicking the door open and screaming out Roddy’s name as the neighbor followed behind me. A smell of cat feces hit my nostrils as I stepped foot into the apartment. “Roddy, why don’t you clean the litter box, you sick bastard?” I yelled out as I was walking through the house. His apartment was neat and orderly. A bit of dust had collected on some of his furniture.
The closer I got to his study, the worse the smell of rotten eggs became. My heart sank to my heels when I finally found him in his study. The smell was unbearable inside that room, but the sight was far worse. found Rodrick slumped over his desktop, which was still running. His skin was pale-green, blue, and green and his body was beyond bloated and some parts of him were outright starting to decay. His Savannah cat, Edna, was trying to tear a chunk of meat from his arm. His neighbor ran out of the room screaming profanities at the sight of Roddy’s corpse while I screamed at him to call 9-1-1.
I held back the urge to throw up and pushed onward, swatting at the renegade feline. After scaring the cat away, I’ve noticed most of his face was gone. Facial muscles and bits of his skull were exposed. The urge to throw up returned, and I looked away. Facing his screen, I noticed he was writing a review, one of his critiques. Something about a story involving a demonic entity inspired by the Egyptian crocodile-headed god, Sobek. The review was all over the place in terms of pacing, point progression and language. It wasn’t really bad either, he tried to make it as scathing as he could, but I guess he had no typical Roddy-spice left within him. The one thing I noticed was the closing line, “Why wont ur stupid crocodile leave me alonee!” It seemed like Roddy had lost his mind before he passed.
I was caught up in thought for a moment, wondering how long it must’ve been since he’d passed for Edna to start eating him. That’s when something hit me. Something ignited a fire in my mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for quite some time.
As it turned out, Roddy suffered a heart attack and died as a result of that. He was found to have suffered from hypertension and the early stages of diabetes. He died some two weeks before I showed up.
I threw out the web cam just in case, because I still don’t know how on earth did Roddy video call me that day – he was supposed to be dead.
submitted by BloodySpaghetti to stayawake [link] [comments]


2020.10.06 11:33 BloodySpaghetti Crocodiles

Rodrick Vargmann was an odd man, to say the least. He wasn’t harmful or anything. At least I’d like to hope so. I liked Roddy. Regardless of what anyone thinks of him. Again, he was a very weird man. He cut most of his ties with friends and relatives once he left for college. As far as I know, he didn’t bother making any friends throughout his adult life. Those he did befriend were coincidental and usually consisted of people who had similar interests to his, like myself.
Roddy was a recluse. He’d stick to staying in his apartment and doing his thing from home. Reading this, it’s easy to assume he was some bloated neck bearded redneck antisocial clown who blamed the world for his problems. However, that’s not the case. His problems mostly consisted of him being overweight and avoidant. It’s hard to even call him a misanthrope. It’s not that he hated people, he just never liked human company. Other than that, he was the average Joe, physically speaking, mentally - not so much. The guy was an artistic genius according to some people. That’s how he made a living, various artistic commissions and payments he was owed for letting others use his creations.
While creating art was his job and a thing, he was fairly decent at, his true passion was the critique. He loved fiction, but his standard for what should be considered a good piece of fiction was impossibly high. He’d criticize and riff on everything he could get his hands on, regardless of the genre. To be totally honest, he used to write some too, but his work was largely not great. He knew how to build up a plot really well up to the climax, but then he’d pull an unrelated or unsatisfying twist and kill the suspense with no reward. People called him out on that but he, in his usual spirit, remained dismissive and opted to excuse his lackluster writing as something he does for the fun of it.
I met him online after he had given me one of his rare positive reviews on one of my stories. We’ve chatted for a while and ended up realizing we’re neighbors. That’s how my friendship with Roddy Vargmann began.
He’d constantly tell me about how this piece of internet fiction or another was absolute garbage. Most of the time he was just overreacting. Like most things in life, most amateur fiction is average. My own included, I’d say, but Roddy thought most of it was equivalent to nuclear waste. For that attitude, Roddy got himself a fair share of haters. Most people would dismiss Roddy as the asshole he was, while others loathed him to the point of throwing a fit whenever they’d see his internet alias, Demoncanine. Someone even tried doxing him once but ended up getting the wrong information and probably ended up exposing some poor innocent soul. Roddy found that amusing, I remember telling it wasn’t funny, and he said that he was laughing at what he called “the losers who would attempt to hurt a guy over a few words online regarding their shitty fanfics.”
That’s how this man has always operated. In some senses he saw himself as superior to everyone else. He didn’t carry himself like he was the best at everything, he just looked down at people most times and made excuses for his behavior. The guy was truly an awful individual at points. He helped expose some guy who was embroiled in a “feud” of sorts with him as a financial scammer which was good. He made it seem like it was all about helping the victims get justice. However, he declined on doing the same when it came to any other piece of shit out there that was mentioned to him. He’d say, “Oh, I don’t know this person…” and switch the topic to avoid having to deal with that.
I’m not here to speak ill of the person, though. Roddy Vargmann was actually a respected member of the neighborhood, by all accounts. He was surprisingly pleasant to people in person when he was forced to interact with others.
We used to hang out about every other week, but these hangouts turned less and less frequent in the months leading up to his demise. I remember one day we scheduled to meet at the bar for a couple of drinks. I showed up before Roddy and waited for him. When he showed up, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. He was all pale and covered in sweat, his breath was erratic and seemed blown up. I remember jumping up from my seat to ask him what was up, and he said he was Ok. Professing he’d been having a little trouble with anxiety and plagued by bad sleep. That evening, he was unusually docile and quiet. I had to force the conversation to keep going because he wasn’t entirely there. I remember asking him a few times if he was sure he was alright, and he’d snap at me with an increasing anger that he was actually alright. So, I let him be.
After that evening, our interactions became less and less frequent. His behavior towards me and online became more and more erratic. We’d start a normal conversation and suddenly he would either go silent or stop replied to my messages only to come back later stressing how he’s sorry and that he wasn’t feeling well.
His critique and ridicule of amateur authors had become harsher as time went by. Even things he deemed acceptable before had turned into “rancid verbal filth” in his eyes. From insulting people’s works, he started dishing personal attacks towards anyone who dared ignite his ire. While he remained fairly friendly to me and his other friends, being associated with him came to be somewhat unpleasant. People knew I was friends with the guy and would pester me to cut him off before he’d hurt me too.
I stuck with him. Something about his slow progression into oblivion was fascinating and terrifying. One day he told me out of the blue about a dream he had. In his dream, Roddy found himself tied to a blood-stained table, naked and gagged. He said he tried wriggling out and screaming for help but couldn’t. According to him, the room was dark and dimly lit by a single light bulb emitting red a faint red light. The door in front of him flung open a massive creature stepped forward. It was a massive crocodilian mountain of a man that marched towards him, sending waves of anxiety through his body. The beast ended up shoving its clawed hand into his chest, breaking through his skin, muscles and rib cage before grabbing his heart and crushing it in its hand before pulling it out and devouring the bloodied organ.
Roddy said he woke up feeling like his chest had been caved in. He had mentioned not being able to force himself to get up for a few moments before he finally managed to sit up. A sharp pain coursed through his rib cage. He concluded his story by saying he woke up with a bit of blood smeared on his lips.
I told him to see a doctor, but he refused to listen, assumed he was just being anxious and biting his lip during his sleep.
I tried talking some sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen.
It all went downhill from there. His critiques became more frequent and more violent, outright violent. Insulting and verbally battering any flaw he could find in a piece of fiction. He also turned more anxious, it appears, because he deleted most of his social media accounts. I kept seeing his alias pop up in forums and sites I frequent at an alarming rate. A few long posts a day. He was probably skipping work to write his reviews. I’ve decided to not bother with the guy anymore. He had some serious health condition and ignored my advice. Why should I bother with making sure he keeps his income steady? Wasn’t my problem.
After a month of silence, he video-called me shaking and visibly confused. His room was dark and completely silent. He looked at me through the camera lens and whispered, “Can you see it?”
I was confused, “huh? Dude, are you alright?”
“Can you see it?” he motioned to the left with his eyes.
“I can’t see anything other than your wasted mug, are you high on something?” I responded.
“The fucking crocodile’s here…” he whispered, nervously looking to the left without moving his head.
“You need help man, there are no crocodiles in there. You’re alone. I’m going to come over, and we’ll have a chat about your health, buddy.” I told him.
“N-n-n-no no no,” he mumbled before turning off the video chat.
He did look heavier than the last time I’d seen him, and he was being paranoid about some crocodile. He was definitely losing his mind. The guy needed help, and I opted to give it to him. Even if he’d hate to admit it, he needed medical attention. Both mental and physical.
Without thinking too hard, I grabbed my coat and made my way towards Roddy’s apartment. It was the third apartment complex away from mine, virtually a two-minute walk at a snail’s pace. I got to his place and found his mailbox filled with bills. He wasn’t the kind of person to skip on not checking his mail, he was too meticulous for that. I climbed up the stairs and knocked on the door. There was no reply. I knocked again, still nothing. Worried, I started banging on his door, but the only response I’ve gotten was an eerie silence.
One of his neighbors came out asking me what all the commotion was about. I told him about the video call and Roddy’s overall situation. The neighbor said it was weird because nobody had seen or heard anything coming out of Roddy’s apartment in weeks. Not even the occasional blaring of music they had gone so used to.
I yelled out, “Shit!” thinking something might’ve happened to the guy. I pushed the handle as hard as I could and the door open slightly with a chilling creak.
“Son of a bitch!” I hissed, before kicking the door open and screaming out Roddy’s name as the neighbor followed behind me. A smell of cat feces hit my nostrils as I stepped foot into the apartment. “Roddy, why don’t you clean the litter box, you sick bastard?” I yelled out as I was walking through the house. His apartment was neat and orderly. A bit of dust had collected on some of his furniture.
The closer I got to his study, the worse the smell of rotten eggs became. My heart sank to my heels when I finally found him in his study. The smell was unbearable inside that room, but the sight was far worse. found Rodrick slumped over his desktop, which was still running. His skin was pale-green, blue, and green and his body was beyond bloated and some parts of him were outright starting to decay. His Savannah cat, Edna, was trying to tear a chunk of meat from his arm. His neighbor ran out of the room screaming profanities at the sight of Roddy’s corpse while I screamed at him to call 9-1-1.
I held back the urge to throw up and pushed onward, swatting at the renegade feline. After scaring the cat away, I’ve noticed most of his face was gone. Facial muscles and bits of his skull were exposed. The urge to throw up returned, and I looked away. Facing his screen, I noticed he was writing a review, one of his critiques. Something about a story involving a demonic entity inspired by the Egyptian crocodile-headed god, Sobek. The review was all over the place in terms of pacing, point progression and language. It wasn’t really bad either, he tried to make it as scathing as he could, but I guess he had no typical Roddy-spice left within him. The one thing I noticed was the closing line, “Why wont ur stupid crocodile leave me alonee!” It seemed like Roddy had lost his mind before he passed.
I was caught up in thought for a moment, wondering how long it must’ve been since he’d passed for Edna to start eating him. That’s when something hit me. Something ignited a fire in my mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for quite some time.
As it turned out, Roddy suffered a heart attack and died as a result of that. He was found to have suffered from hypertension and the early stages of diabetes. He died some two weeks before I showed up.
I threw out the web cam just in case, because I still don’t know how on earth did Roddy video call me that day – he was supposed to be dead.
submitted by BloodySpaghetti to creepypasta [link] [comments]


2020.09.26 00:58 Thedesiman Cam chat adult

This story is copied from internet many years ago. Although it's a work of fiction but it's a good one. So I am sharing this will all of you.
I am a sissy faggot I live in st Louis mo im in the closet no one knows i dress in femine clothes I was married when I was 20 and straight after a year I caught her cheating on me , we only had sexy 3 times I couldn't get hard with her , I was allways thinking of men, masters, tops, at home I stole her panties bras high heels lip stick, and would dress around the house, after the divorse I got the house and I started to wear panties to work everyday and shave my legs smooth , somedays i wear stockings under my work clothes and butt plugs ,my toe nails are bright pink allways ,, i hope no one catches me then on weekends I would dress up all weekend long , I then shaved my armpits and cock and balls ,, I was now smooth from the eyeballs down ,,
im very scared at being blackmailed and exposed and ruined but i have many fantasys like this one.
i wish i was caught and exposed as a sissy faggot cumdump by a dom black or white master or mistress online but i get embarrassed about thinking about being forced to be with a gay master . I meet him online in a sissy chat room we chat for a week or so and one night he says he has a new softwere program that is faster in chat and he asked me to install it . he uses the softwear program teamviewer to get into my computer and findout all my secrets , once i installed it he got on line with me and he made me watch as he added him self as the adminstraighter and he told me the computer was going to go to black screen for about 20 mins and for me to take a shower and shave really close and get dressed femine , in the mean time he added programs like keylogger , spy softwear, parental control softwear, mint. com , and webcam softwear, all to find out my info and blackmail and ruin me
he found out my passwords and email contacts and where i worked the first night , the next day he found out my home address and credit card numbers my home phone number and cell phone number , he slowly started to expose me and ruin me . hes goin to make me into his white sissy slave , i cant do anything he controls me now , he embarrasses me and humilates me my online master then told me that he was a dominate gay master and he was a cop in city that he lived in and that he can do anything he wants to me , because whos going to believe a sissy over a cop ,, he says he owns me now and that fun going to begin,, my black master found out i had being lieing about being single and that i had a girlfriend of two years and he made me get dressed like a slutty school girl and hold up my drivers licence to my face and say my real name and then say my sissy name and then say im a lieing sissy faggot and that I going to break up with my girlfriend so can serve my online black master forever and then I had to call her and break up with her over the phone on speaker phone so he would be able to hear everything she said while he watched me on webcam . I had no idea I was being recorded doing this , after that he made me dress femine everyday after work , made me wear girls shorts and tops in public, then made me buy a tiny thong bikini online that he picked out and then go to a tanning bed everyday in it and show him the thong tan lines he made me buy a months worth of tans, he watched me get dressed in girls work out short shorts and girls tops that say diva or princess on them , with bright bras underneath and pink lipstick and no wig , then go run errands like to the post office or bank exposing myself as a sissy making sure to take pics outside of them to prove i was exposing myself. making me call up on 3 way calling so he could listen as i called nail salons and made appointments using my sissy name to get my nails done making sure i prepay using my male name so i cant call and cancel. making me call to get my eyebrows waxed and shaped in a femine arch at a different salon everytime...then after i was off the phone he would call them back and tell them what he wanted them to do to me ,,, i didnt know he called them back ,, he would send me to the mall to get my ears pierced . then sent me to a tattoo parlor wearing a fem boy look with pink lipstick on and get my tongue pierced and buy a few tongue rings and barbells, and a large pink cock shaped one, a few weeks later I had to go there again and get my nipples pierced and gold rings installed, every time I went the girl at the desk laughed at me and told me most real men would never get there nipples pierced or wear lipstick , then a couple weeks after that I had to go back again and get my belly button pierced and buy a ring and a charm that says SISSY from the same girl so embarrassed , then my black master made me buy a cb6000s chastity device online one he picked out for me and watched me buy form his computer and he sent me his lock in the mail with no key , he made me get on web cam and open the ups box and beg to lock my clit up with his lock. he showed me the key in his hand, and now he owns my clit no more hardons no more cumming with permission ever . he started making me take a chemical castration pills that he sent me UPS he made me open it up on webcam and beg over and over again to take the pills so my clit would shrink and not get hard again. if i didnt he was going to make me get castrated by a doctor he knows . my black master my owner then sent me out again to the tattoo parlor and he sent a tattoo design too , he told me to prove im a black owned white sissy boy and get a Ace of Spades tattoo to be tattooed on my left ass cheek , and to get 2 small black panther paw prints on my chest ,buy then everyone in the tattoo shop knew I was a sissy fag and they asked me if I really wanted the tattoos , I told them yes I want everyone to know I love black men, my black master set up a paypal account with my creditcard and made me start buying stuff for him on his wish lists , i watched on my computer as he drained my bank accounts and he made me take out more credit cards in my name and have them sent to him. from different card companys , each day for a week he made me go online and apply for a different card , he then made me send him my tax forms from the last five years so he knew where all my money was , and made me change my direct deposit paycheck from my full time job to his bank account, and at my work he made me cash in my 401 k early all 80,000 dollars sent straight to his bank totally ruining me he made me get a second job on the weekend days at target so that i could earn more money for him and have every penny of my new job go right into his account by direct deposit , that way i never see a dime of my pay check, he made me watch on my computer as he made ads on Gay dating web sites and upload my pics and fill in all the info about me , my location , so I can hook up with gay guys in my town, I couldn't believe he was doing this , and meet them asap , for quick blowjobs ,he told me he knew I wasn't gay but he didn't care he was going to turn me totally gay and I will never get pussy ever again, I started to cry on web cam, he was laughing at me , he would make me watch as he logs in on these gay web sites and chat with guys in my town and tell the I was a sissy and I need to swallow a load right now , then he would send them my cell phone number and make me answer every call on speaker phone so he could hear me set up a date and time for me to suck them off. thats when he started making me pay a fag tax every week of 5 dollars for every cock i sucked and 10 for every time i got fucked, every week he would tell me how many strangers i had to suck off at xrated book stores or from craigslist ads he placed , there were lots of penaltes if i didnt suck off the right amount of guys , high interest rates, every week the amount of cocks i sucked off would increase,so i had to pay more and more .. my black master then started making more craigs list ads, back page ads, and adam for adam ads,for me ,making me meet strangers for blowjobs, then he found a few more adult book stores near me and made me go to the glory holes booths and suck off strangers and send him pics immediately almost every night sometimes right from one store to the next, then he finnally made me get fucked bareback only by multyple strangers no condoms that way my hole was full and my panties were full of cum , then he found a few gaybars by me and truck stops to go suck off real truckers , he made me buy a cell phone with GPS tracking on it so he could track everywhere i went .. all over town ,, so he knew if i was in the book store sucking off strangers for hours or at the tanning salon or at the truck stop or rest areas looking to be used as a cumdump sence he was a cop he found out were the real hookers in st louis would walk the streets and get picked up and arrested , he would make me get dressed up like a street hooker on web cam and make me take the bus down town to the block were the real hookers would pick up tricks and I would have to take pics outside a pawn shop and wear my Bluetooth ear piece and walk the streets while he talked to me telling me what to say to strangers when they pull over ,, he would make me charge 20 for a handjob and 30 for a blowjob, he would listen as I got in car after car sucking off strangers , he would make me stay out there for hours until I earned 200 dollars ,I was so scared I would get arrested and put in jail. he tracked me on GPS all night long so I couldn't get away. he next day made me go to best buy and get 8 survailince cameras and install them in every room in my house and install the softwear on my computer so that he can watch me on his computer at all times ,, even in the bathroom , about that time he made me call a doctors office on 3 way calling and make appointment to see a doctor he knew , I had to tell the nurse on the phone that I was a male looking for female hormones to start growing breasts and that I would like the earliest appointment I can get ,, I had to give her my male name and address and phone number so embarrassing, my master had already told the doctor I wanted the strongest expermintal female hormones they have and I wanted huge tits and big implants and my nipples to stick straight out 24/7 , I didn't know any of that when I went to see the doctor my master made me dress like a male fem faggot boy with a little lip stick and a pink bra under a womens sheer blouse and NO WIG , so everyone was looking at me , I had answer a few questions from the nurse and the doctor came in to see me he was a big black doctor and he pinched my nipples and told me I will make fine looking girl and me pulled out a niddle and injected something right into both of my breasts , and then he made me sign a lot of papers with out me reading them , and then he gave me a prescription for a 3 month supply and for me to take them 2 pills 3 times a day , and make another appointment for 3 months . my master made me start taking them right away and he made me start taking them on webcam and making me take more then the doctor ordered , and after 2 weeks my nipples were getting hard all the time and my breasts were sore and getting swollen he keep making me tell him how big I wanted my tits to be 36c and he would tell me that he wants them at least 38 dd or bigger and for them to look totally fake after I get my implants ?? after I earn enough money sucking off strangers walking the streets for implants he told me.. all this took about 8 months or so then my black daddy made me take out a second morgage on my house, each time i went to the bank i was dressed more and more girly ,my black master would make me dress on web cam the way he wanted me to dress a little femine then he would make me use skype on my way to the bank so that he can watch me then at the bank he made me were a blue tooth ear piece so he can tell me what to say to the female bank employee .so embarrassing, he contolled all my money now he made me shut off cable tv i was never home any more i was out sucking off strangers he made me walk into my kitchen and he made me throw out all my food , suger, flour , cookies, all canned goods , made me clean out my frig , nothing at all was in there , all my cabents were totally empty of every thing , no food in the house at all, he wanted me on a strick diet so I can lose 30 lbs, he sent me to the store to buy ramon nuddles only a months worth, thats all I was allowed to eat, ,i was on strick diet of ramon nuddles and cum form strangers . made me get on ebay as he watched then he made me upload pics of my car and sell it fast for cash and then send him the money fedx .then I had to cancel my car insurance,and then I had to cancel my heath insurance, i had to walk or take the bus to work now and and then I had to give all my male clothes away at goodwill ,except a few male work clothes, he gave me a small allowance each week my owner then made me buy a you tube of superglue , and then get dressed up in a bright pink bra and pink stockings and frostie pink lipstick , and then get on a live gay chat room and open my web cam and start following orders from strangers after 30 mins my master started sending me orders seat on a 9 black dildo and bounce up and down, after that he made me get the tube of superglue and show the camera it was brand new , then he send me a order for me to beg him over and over to squeeze the superglue into the padlock key hole on my chastity device , telling me to say how I am a loser white faggot and I don't need my tiny clit anyway and how I cant get hard anymore and how I wish I born a real girl , please master allow me to superglue your lock shut forever , I beg you over and over again,, after 10 mins , you finally give the order to do it ,, I put the webcam down next to my clit and squeeze the superglue right into the keyhole filling it up , after that my master started laughing at me and told me that now that ive proven myself to him that I quess he doesn't need to hold onto the key anymore and then he told me he was going to throw it into a lake today when he goes out .
two days later he made me get dressed like street hooker and beg him to allow me to cut up all my own credit cards up on web cam as he watched he made me tell him my real name and that I didn't need my credit cards any more because I don't know how to deal with money because I was a white sissy faggot and he laughed and showed me that he has the ones the bank sent him in his hands now . the bills kept coming to my house for every card he had , he would max out one and then make me call the card company on three way calling and i had to get the credit line incressed for that card , after i hung up he would laugh at me and tell me what a loser i was and how this was never going to end he was going to blackmail me forever and totally ruin me ,, the next day was friday and my black master made me call in work sick and get dressed like a bimbo cumslut. in bright pink micro mini skirt, white thigh high stocking bright pink 5 in open toe heels that are locked on , a pink and white crop top that has the words SISSY BOY on the front in glitter , i large black inflatable butt plug is in my ass pussy ,a red g string pulled up high and red 36 d cup bra that i have large filled water ballons , a leather collar on that says CUMSLUT.my make up is pink frosted lipstick, and red lip liner ,heavy black eyeliner and i have big pink plasic ear rings on, my hair is blonde and big , i have on 2in long pink finger nails and im holding my pink barbie purse. then he told me go outside and get in the car because today your going to the DRIVER LICENCE OFFICE and when i pulled up outside the office he made me put on my blue tooth ear piece and ordered me to go inside and get the form to legally change my name . now get out of the car and go get your sissy named changed FOREVER . he waited till i got the form and then he said to start filling out the form and wear it says new legal name he made me put SISSY PATTIE SWALLOWS . and then take a picure of the form and send it to him before i turned it in ...then after i turned it in i had to go get your new driver licence picture done . or he said he will email everyone on my contacts list your boss, your parents, and your x wife , all the pics of you sucking all those cucks and swallowing all that cum, do you under stand sissy faggot
then after 14 months my master made me sell my house real quick to a guy he called and sent all my info too about my house he made me meet him dressed like a sissy hooker in my own house while he watched on web cam i had to sign every paper where it said my name i had to sign both names then i had to suck him off and let him fuck me bareback and sign the last paper as he shot his cum deep in my hole and then go to the bank and send all 300,000 dollars to his bank account every penny then in 2 weeks i had to move into a lowrent apt he picked out on the web in the black part of town,and i was to openly be a gay white sissy there and never lock my front door ever, no drapes all windows unlocked, he made me sell or give away all my furnature bedroom set , kitchen table , tv, everything in my old house was gone , everything I didn't sell I had to rent a big dumpster and he hired a couple of guys to totally clean out the rest of my house while I was at work and all my pictures family photos everything was now gone . my entire old life was now gone forever.. he wanted everything in my run down apt to be totally girlie and femine, and only furnature I can have is a couple of lawn chairs and a pink girlie bedroom set , with pink sheets and bed spread , he then made me start putting in applacations in at girlie jobs and the gaybars putting my new name sissy pattie swallows on every form until i got hired as a waiter at the gay bar down the street from my new apt i had to walk to work every night and then walk home after every night. after I got the job at the gay bar I had to work there for a 2 weeks doing both jobs not getting home tell 2am then going to work at 7am, finally my master made me get all my male work clothes , pile them up on the table and get a pair of sizzers and he told me to start cutting them all up into small pieces , every thing male I had left was now gone,, I was crying , he told me I didn't need anything male ever again,
thats when my BLACK MASTER finally did it and made me watch on my computer as he typed up my letter quiting my job , and attaching 10 different pics of me dressed femine and slutty sucking strangers cocks with cum on my face and in my mouth , and then making ME beg over and over on web cam to push send on my computer, i cried and finally did it that night i had to get dressed as a sissy boy and go to the same tattoo parlor that he sent a design too and prepaid and get a tramp stamp in 4in high letters(SISSY CUMDUMP) , now i have to work at a gaybar wearing girls shorts shorts g string underwear cb 6000 and cute crop top a pushup bra and bright pink lipstick and NO WIG
submitted by Thedesiman to Sissy [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 08:08 MadSmatter I watched Adult Swim's "Development Meeting" livestream every week for two months straight. Here's what I learned:

TL;DR: The educational aspect is great. The rest is disappointing.
The Adult Swim livestream has for something like 4 years now run a development meeting livestream show. The premise is simple: three creative execs take 4-6 pitches over the course of an hour, you sign a release form, and they divvy out $500-$1,000 per show amongst their three favorite pitches.

Let's start with the good:
-Kindness: It's obvious when a pitch hasn't been fully thought out, or someone too green has made it on to the show. Instead of crushing them, the execs are cool about it, and encourage the creators. In the harsh world of HWood, I appreciated that.
-Uniqueness: There's nothing else out there like this, and for any writer, hearing the questions that CE's ask, and being able to watch where pitches fall apart is experience you can't even get at the best USC internships. Whether its using licensed material, similarity to another existing show, or something even more specific, this will save you a lot of time when it comes to pitching a producer.

Now let's examine with the bad:
-Poor quality: The Adult Swim method for selecting pitches is done totally at random, so they've let some truly terrible presentations through. Meanwhile, I worked meticulously on mine, and wasn't picked once over the course of 8 weeks. While I don't suggest that my pitch is better than the ones they picked, I certainly took it far more seriously than ones they picked. Knowing the difference would have taken a simple look at the deck, but for some reason they won't do that. So now I don't know whether I've wasted all this time for bad luck, because they didn't want the pitch I put together, or any number of things.
-Creative Exec ego: Walt and Cam aren't great execs. While Jordie (sp?) asks good questions and tries to get to the meat of pitches, W&C only find ways to tear down genuinely good ideas. This is my biggest beef with Development Meeting: if you're bad, they encourage you. If you're good, they don't. There's this weird dichotomy where a genuinely well done idea gets a "meh" reaction from them, and at best they say "send us your stuff! put it in the chat"... great.
-Abuse of first-timers: As we saw with the recent uproar over the Rick Moranis pitch that Dev Meeting rejected years ago, the execs make mistakes. They'll admit to that. Any CE will tell you their story of passing on Stranger Things (because everyone did except Netflix). But where the mistakes get bad is evident with the Rick Moranis case, and that team was put through the ringer submitting item after item to this Dev group. The same can be seen with Skeleton Landlord, their poster child. Does Skeleton Landlord have a series order? No! They have another episode or two, and who knows if AS has coughed up a dime to cover their production expenses? Even if they paid to host the new eps, it's still nothing close to what a professional writer could expect.

Which is where I reach my bottom line with Adult Swim's Development Meeting:
If you're lucky enough to win the lotto and pitch, and if your pitch is better than good to the point that they can't look down on you for looking like fools themselves, the best you can hope for is them to ask you to shoot a pilot on your own dime, and if they don't ghost you when it's done, the odds of a professional grade profit are zero.
They had Eric Andre on tonight, and instead of hearing some genuinely valuable feedback from a legend like him, they only had time for 3.5 pitches and spent the rest of their time tripping over themselves trying to impress him. Can't blame them for that though, I'd rather hang out with Eric than host a pitch competition any day.

So watch it for the educational value, but do not drink that kool aid.
Edit 1: Plugging the aforementioned Rick Moranis pitch by my good friends at RareBird, u/zoltronshock: https://youtu.be/GWQkHZVClbI
submitted by MadSmatter to Screenwriting [link] [comments]


2020.09.20 18:06 Samara_Buckley_Derby [The Beginning of the End] [Derby]- Chapter 12: The Pertoff Family Vacation

Summary: Fighting immortals is a sweetheart job for someone obsessed with the afterlife. Dying on the job, however, is cutting it too close. However, Julian's curiosity with the great beyond pushes him a little too far, back to the land of the living and cursed with a newly damned soul, just like the immortals he's sworn to fight...
First chapter --- Previous chapter here!! --- Next chapter
Cover art --- Rate me on Royal Road!
Espionage may as well have been Matti’s middle name for how well he took to it. It wasn’t, of course, his middle name. That dubious honor went to Casimir, probably the name of someone important in his family, which he’d have learned if he’d had ever thought to grill his parents. He hadn’t though, not in the sixteen years he’d lived under their roof, nor in the following four years of school. And he certainly hadn’t asked when he started sniper school nor since officially enlisting. He hadn’t spoken to them since. Too dangerous.
And dangerous was how Matti liked it. He was yet to have a real reason to believe his life was in danger and until he felt that, he had no problem pushing the envelope.
Which is why he was perched in the back of a helicopter heading out to Munich on a mission intended to intercept one of the deadliest immortals at an active civilian airport with nearly two dozen soldiers, some of whom were legally dead, while most were shoot-on-sight traitors.
Could it get any better?
“Find anything, Matti?” a cool voice asked in his ear.
“Clear for now, Pooja.” He gave the Colonel a reassuring smile and she nodded, returning to the cockpit. Last names had never suited him and as a renegade, he wasn’t obligated to use them. It was easier to empathize with an Amy or Markus than with a Brown or Khan. Knowing the name they heard from friends and family humanized them and that was important when lives were on the line.
They usually just thought he was being cocky and rude and he had no need to dispel that theory because, as a renegade, they were going to think he was an arrogant prick anyway. It wasn’t even really a lie, so…
The helicopter they all sat in—Matti, Julian, Pooja and her two operatives, Kyline, and her squad—was borrowed from Omicron HQ. No way could Schmidtt’s usual helicopter fit the nearly two dozen agents, so Pooja had pulled some strings. There was enough room to comfortably walk around, especially with the others mostly strapped in, a fact that Matti gladly took advantage of, roaming from window to window, popping up his binoculars to scan for any aircraft that might be flying under the radar.
He’d been disappointed so far.
In between his little lookout sessions, he’d make small talk with various operatives. Pooja didn’t like chatting when on a mission, Kyline hated his guts, and the other scientists he usually hung out with were, for obvious reasons, not here, so ‘various operatives’ mostly meant Julian.
“Gotta admit, when you said you had some questions for me, I wasn’t expecting this,” Julian said after Matti’s third round.
“Am I boring you?” Matti tilted his head.
Julian laughed, always a good sign. “No. But unless this is some weird renegade interrogation tactic, I don’t know why you care about my favorite breakfast food.”
Matti gave him a cool look. “I’ve watched you very carefully since joining the Fleursurgents. I need to make sure your answers align with what I’ve seen.” It was a terribly blatant lie, but not one Matti really cared about guarding. If Julian chose to see through it, good on him. Reality was, Matti just liked getting to know his charges.
Julian squinted. “Fleursurgents?”
“Come on. Fleur Insurgents is a mouthful and there are a ton of repeated syllable sounds there. It’s only natural that you should work a portmanteau in there. Saves time.”
“Lotta big words from someone with a STEM degree. Maybe you should have gone into linguistics.” Julian grinned, and unless it was Matti’s imagination, seemed to relax a bit.
Matti lifted a shoulder. “Linguistics wouldn’t have gotten me a job here. Besides, I didn’t go to an English speaking school.”
“Clearly, or you’d have caught the better portmanteau: Infleurgents.”
This took Matti aback quite a bit, because Julian was absolutely correct. That one was far superior. “I take my hat off to you. We’re now the Infleurgents. Clearly your English skills make mine look paltry.”
“Well, it was my first language.” He shifted in his seat, probably trying to make the helicopter seat feel more comfortable. “You said a linguistics degree wouldn’t have gotten you a job here. Did you know about this place when starting college?”
There were a few options for how an AngelThana operative might have gotten involved in the organization. A bulk of the scientists were poached from the public facing front: a nanotech organization that privately manufactured weapons and also somehow did some work with biotech. It was often scrutinized for guzzling research money and turning out rather few results but that was kind of the point of a public facing front. It’s just that the public didn’t know that. Hence ‘front’.
Then there were military poaches, outstanding soldiers who were approached at the conclusion of their official government military contracts. Outside of these poached soldiers, AngelThana rarely allowed for transfers to military units if the employee hadn’t been with the company for a minimum of three years, which explained why the minimum age of active combatants was 21 and not most military’s standard 18.
Then there were the nuts. AngelThana sent representatives out to anyone who found out about the immortals organically, whether from personal experience or obsessive web research. That’s how Matti got involved. He’d spent the greater part of his childhood chasing down conspiracies online because that’s about all there was to do in a northern European village, population: twelve, where the sun came up twice a year. He’d discovered some paper trails and various web footage that showed the same few people involved in a host of different terrorist attacks across the globe, a conspiracy he was surprised no one else pointed out.
It turned out no one pointed it out because AngelThana scrubbed the internet from all information of the immortals, with a rather impressive tech division. This was originally what they scouted him for until pretty much everyone realized he was a crap hacker. By that point, he’d requested a transfer to sniper school and anyone involved agreed it was for the best.
Most of the people on the helicopter had been in the second boat, sniped from their own government’s military. On the books, they were ‘security’ officers.
Julian was, as with most scientists, from the first group. He’d been scouted because of his academic work and pressured into taking the job with AngelThana.
“My official transfer to the internal department was about a month into my onboarding on the face department.” Julian had that glint in his eyes that the PhDs always got when they were about to launch into a lecture, and Matti braced himself. “The day they pulled me in and explained that honest to god immortals existed, well I thought I’d gone crazy.”
“Really? You didn’t think they had?”
Julian shook his head. “No! I’d always suspected so when my theories were confirmed, my mind was blown. It was like falling into a dream I’d had.”
“Lapinksy! Back on your post. You’ve had weeks to make idle chit chat. This is not the time.” Pooja’s scolding turned all the heads in the chopper to Matti, who smiled back at her, jumping to his feet in a solute.
“Copy that, Colonel.” There would also be time for idle chit chat later, so he had no qualms with resuming his watch.
“Alright we’re approaching our drop point,” Pooja announced, some few, uneventful hours later. “We’re officially on non-essential cargo pickup, so keep that in mind. Grace, prep your unit, but I want them down and out of sight until signaled.”
Kyline saluted in acknowledgement, her face rigid.
“The cargo pickup is scheduled to happen at eight hundred hours, so we’re here plenty early and should be able to get all of you off before they load us up.” Pooja began walking up and down the aisle of the ship, making eye contact with every single person on board. “I’ll be staying on board to handle the loading, with Schmidtt and Lapinksy. You’ll take your orders from the Sergeant and in the case of her incapacitation, your chain of command will fall to Agent Xing, Agent Jha, field medic LeDuc…” The chain of command was something they’d all been briefed on but redundancy may as well be synonymous with procedure because whenever someone said ‘follow the proper process’ it meant they wanted to you use enough fallbacks and extraneous measures that you probably could have accomplished three times your goal if you’d just checked something once or twice.
But for all their traitorous nature, the Infleurgents still followed their god damned processes to a T. Whatever. Matti didn’t technically need to know who to listen to but unfortunately for his ego, the chain of command usually made too much sense to ignore, so he rarely did.
The helicopter touched down at a tiny regional airport in the early hours of the morning, probably close to five hundred hours, as light as a feather per Schmidtt’s usual. He radioed in their arrival to the incognito convoy that was bringing whatever equipment Pooja had maneuvered into being their ‘target’. They reported that they were still about two hours out, which Schmidtt confirmed on radar scans.
“Copy that, we’ll be waiting.” Then Pooja looked up at Matti. “Give us a visual perimeter, make sure the area is clear of personnel or civilians.” She turned to Kyline. “At Lapinsky’s signal, take your men to the far parking lot. The convoy was instructed to leave one truck behind so that we could unload our cargo. Which…” She waved a hand at the soldiers, “is all of you. So stay out of sight until Grace gives the command. Understood?”
A host of salutes confirmed comprehension. Matti eyed Pooja and tossed her a slightly more casual salute before slipping into the night.
For once, the lack of complications wasn’t boring. The presence of civilians would have dramatically slowed down the offloading, suspicions from the convoy would have just caused drama, and if any of Kyline’s soldiers had been spotted, it would have really been disastrous.
All told, Pooja’s plan went without a hitch and soon Schmidt was flying away with whatever cargo they’d used as an excuse to hide their illicit actions. Matti sat in the back of the remaining convoy truck, squished with the others. These things were supposed to seat a dozen. While Matti, Julian, Xing Luli, the Iota agent, were slim enough to count for half a person, they simply had too many people on board for the drive to be comfortable. But comfort wasn’t a requisite so no one complained about being cramped too much.
The real issue was the lack of space to put on their disguises. AngelThana lacked the resources to intensely scrutinize every security cam feed on the planet to scan for faces that matched certain criteria. So the group didn’t have to worry too much about being spotted by the sophisticated software needed to match their specific face shapes and retina scans. But that didn’t mean they could slack off. They’d still need to play dress up to fool any AngelThana member who happened to be casually watching the MUC feeds in their downtime.
There were precious few people on board who knew enough about hair and makeup to make a convincing change to faces, so each agent had to wait quite a bit for their turn. Something to change complexion, darken or bright eyes, maybe thicken the look of facial hair.
“Do me dirty,” Matti said as he pushed past Private Amelie Silva for his turn. He scrunched his eyes closed in preparation for the assault on his face.
“Don’t do that with your eyes,” Pooja said, as he heard her swishing around some bottle of something probably wet and sticky. “It’ll make it uneven.” Pooja, along with Henri LaForge and Edmund Howard, was one of the only confident enough with her makeup skills to do anything convincing on the soldiers. “Hold still.” A bright light blasted his eyelids as another of the soldiers shone a flashlight at him.
“We should have brought Sofia,” Matti said, trying hard not to move his mouth. “She could make every guy in here a girl and vice versa.”
“Matti keep your mouth shut or you’re going to look like more of a mess than you normally do.” After a far too long period of getting paint slathered and smeared on his face, his nails and hands squished, his hair pulled tight and hidden under a wig, Pooja thrust an armful of clothes in his hands. “What do you think?”
The question was a little too amused for Matti’s liking and he cracked an eyelid to see the private holding the flashlight was openly smirking.
“He did say he wanted to be a girl. Think you did a mighty good job there, Colonel.”
The other eyelid snapped open. “I need a mirror. Now.”
Pooja held up one and Matti stared at himself. He wasn’t a girl, probably. Not technically. But he also saw where the private was coming from. “Pooja, you know ‘scene’ hasn’t been in since the early 2000s, right?” He twisted one of the silky, unnaturally platinum locks around a finger.
“We’re active members.” She shooed him to the side to start her next victim. “So our looks need to be a bit more dramatically changed. Us and Blake. If you’re going heavy makeup, you have to make it look intentional. That’s why you have the eyeliner. You’re now Alexi Petroff, 16 years old, so you’ve got to look like it.”
“Great. Back to being an edgy teen.” He didn’t really mind the look but it was far from comfortable. “What dramatic bit are you doing?”
“Inaya Hasmi, 34, traveling with my husband Tahir.” She pointed a bit away where Vikas Jha, the other Iota agent, was getting minimal makeup work done. “I’ll have a bit of work done but most of my face will be hidden.”
“Lucky. Would be nice if we all could just go the religious veil route.” Matti tapped at his face to see if his makeup had dried.
Pooja cocked an eyebrow. “Would have made us all the more likely to be stopped by airport security. Don’t need to increase those odds. Alright, you’re done Shanti.”
“Fucking most disgusting thing I ever got on my face,” he grumbled.
“Shut up, Shanti,” Matti said, almost absentmindedly. The private needled him with a glare before moving on.
“We kind of switched colors,” Julian remarked as he settled down next to Matti. The previously sandy haired man now had cropped dark crew cut, so convincing that Matti couldn’t imagine how his real hair had fit under it. His previously green eyes were now blue, much like how Matti’s blue had changed to green.
“Who did yours?” Matti asked.
“LaForge. Man did theatre through his entire education. I guess it shows but god my head feels like it’s about to explode.” Julian’s hand hovered near his scalp as if itching to itch it.
“Not a finger!” shouted LaForge from about eight feet away where he was twisting Luli’s hair into a tight ponytail. “Or I’ll cut it off.”
“Would he get back?” asked another private.
Julian’s body sagged as his hand dropped. “Here they go.”
The questions, jokes, and jabs flowed through the truck, lightening up the mood at the expense of Julian’s.
“You’re not a fan?” Matti asked. “You can’t deny, there are some good questions in there.”
“Yeah but they don’t want answers, they just want to snicker.” Julian sighed, crossing his arms. “But I’m starting to learn to tune it out.”
Even Matti had to admit that, after two more hours of the soldiers coming up with increasingly stupid puns, it had gotten old. He fiddled with his rifle, knowing that it would soon be locked in a very special crate, the kind that AngelThana routinely used to smuggle weapons through airports, past border patrols, and into government events. Matti didn’t like departing with his beloved rifle but there would be no keeping it on him.
The sun had long risen now as the truck pulled into a long term parking lot, advertised as being ‘mere kilometers from MUC!’ From there, the group split into teams, each with their own mission plans.
Pooja took Vikas, her husband, and the two headed the short walk to the public transport. Six of the soldiers, all dressed as spring breakers, flooded to the closest rental car place.
Matti checked his ID and the instructions on his phone giving him a rundown of Alexi Pertoff.
“I’m traveling with my father and girlfriend, huh? Haven’t had one of those in a while.” He looked up at the remaining operatives. Shanti and Henri were brothers, Amelie and Edmund were also dating. A few others were traveling solo. Then his eyes fell on Luli, Pooja’s Iota agent. She fixed him with a long once over.
“We’re dating?” she asked. In all fairness, she probably wasn’t much older than he was and with the high ponytail with a red streak in it, the loose bangs around her face, and too much eye makeup, she could absolutely pass for 17 or 18.
“I guess so. Which just leaves… dad.” He grinned as Julian looked down at his ID.
“Ah. Pieter Pertoff. 38” He looked up at the two agents as the remaining operatives sped off on their predetermined methods of transportation. “Never thought much of having kids…”
“God I must be like, the biggest disappointment to you.” Matti examined his nails, which were all black except for a red nail on each middle finger. Then he looked up at Julian’s tight crew cut and the lines on his face, artfully exaggerated by LaForge’s handiwork.
Luli laughed at the start contrast that couldn’t hide enough of a similarity between the two men to hint at their relation. “Alright then, team,” she said. “Let’s get our car and get to the airport. We’ve got an invasion to stop.”
Chapter 12
Julian could already tell that Matti and Luli were amused at his reaction but he couldn’t help being more than a little apprehensive about playing a father role to the sniper. The two agents shared looks in the back seat of the rental car Julian was driving.
“Do you think I need an accent? It’s Russian, right? I can try a— hold up.” Julian cleared his throat and centered himself, trying his best to adopt the accent of one of the Russian agents. “Ok, how’s this?”
“God no. Please no.” Matti exchanged another look with Luli. Julian hadn’t dealt much with the agent since they’d first flown to Fleur, an experience Julian wanted to leave far behind him, but she was a lot more pleasant when she wasn’t holding a gun to his head.
“You’ll blow our cover immediately.” Her voice, meanwhile, had shifted from its previously Chinese accent to a completely American accent. “Keep your American accent. In case you haven’t noticed, both our passports are American. His is Russian. You immigrated to the states young and lived there your whole life. You met your wife, a Russian woman, but after your relationship went poorly, she took the kid and moved back to Russia. She sends him over to you for summers and other various breaks. It was during one such visit that he met me.”
“The three of us are spending holiday in Russia,” Matti said. “After the trip, Luli and I are staying with my mom in Moscow.”
It took Julian a moment to internalize this. “Why wasn’t I told any of this?”
“It’s in your briefing.” Matti pointed to his phone. “You probably didn’t scroll. Don’t worry, most people actually don’t ask about your backstory.”
“Yeah but in case—”
“Look at it this way,” Luli said. “Lapinsky and I are far more likely to be given side eyes or comments. This was intentional, to draw attention from you.”
“Just be a disappointed father.” Matti glanced at his phone for another moment before tapping a few buttons. “Ok, now, names. I need you to recite them, learn them by heart.”
It was kind of weird taking orders from someone who was supposed to be his son. The two were probably only ten years apart in age. Luli was even closer, probably less than five years younger than him.
“Ok. Ok, you’re Alexi. She’s Tara. Alexi and Tara. Alexi Petroff and Tara Wang.”
“Mr. Pertoff? Mr. Pertoff, Alexi says it’s ok if we get Starbucks. We’ll be right back.”
“Mom says it’s ok if I get snakebites and you said I could get anything I wanted for my 17th birthday if it was under 50 dollars. I know this one place that does them for cheap and she’s ok with it.”
The two went back and forth, with Julian’s knuckles getting whiter on the steering wheel each time one added a new line to their newfound family’s canon.
“I’m uh, just not gonna say much, ok kids?”
The two grinned back at him in the rearview mirror, clearly very into their roles.
“Whatever dad.”
~~~
They spent the remaining half hour of their trip going over all the signals that he’d have to remember. It didn’t sound half bad while they were driving, chatting lightly about the operation, but the minute they stepped from the car and entered the airport, the giggles stopped. Alexi and Tara were apparently the brooding type of teens who didn’t say much but stayed weirdly entwined with each other. Julian was ok with that. His palms were already damp and he was going to probably give away his nerves when he had to raise his hands during security.
A million ‘what ifs’ flashed through his head as the three clunked through security. Previously Julian had been primarily in hot water just with AngelThana but with this little stunt he also marked himself as a legitimate felon.
Yet they cruised through without a hitch, not even when examining their various backpacks or cases of randomly assorted goods. Julian’s nerves were hopefully explained by the outlandish appearance of his traveling companions. No crew-cut sporting dad wanted to be seen in public with his offspring looking so… alternative.
As the three made it to their gate, Julian’s mind immediately jumped to the others. After all, there were six groups that had to make it through without any suspicion. Any one of them getting caught could spell disaster for the whole operation, casting unneeded attention on the whole area. Not only would local authorities get involved, but AngelThana’s watchful eye might fall on them. Even worse, Lady Helga would likely abandon her efforts, leaving them no closer to apprehending her and now completely in the dark about her next plans.
It had to go without a hitch.
“I need to pee.” There was a distinct whine to her voice and Julian was struck with how easy it was to remember that the woman pulling a dramatic pout with heavy lipstick was a grown adult who had killed and probably watched her fellow agents die. “Where’s the closest bathroom?”
This was a signal and Julian grunted, getting to his feet. “Should probably all go.” Every word in Julian’s mouth felt unbelievably forced. He scrutinized every sentence. Why would a father want to accompany his son and son’s girlfriend to the bathroom? Was that weird? Creepy? Did it make sense at all?
The casual shrugs and eyerolls from his charges smoothed over his rocky sentence but he still felt the eyes of the airport on him as they strolled down the hallway to the restrooms.
“Take your time,” Luli said before disappearing into the ladies’ room.
The mens’ room was, thankfully, empty.
“No cameras,” Matti said, after doing a thorough search. “I’m splitting off soon, once I get my toys. If you see me, something’s gone wrong.” He grinned and Julian had no doubt that the sniper couldn’t picture a world where something had gone wrong. “Tara will stick with you, so continue to take your lead from her.”
Julian took the momentary privacy to let out a long breath and shake out his hands. “I hate this.”
“I, on the other hand, love it.” Matti was peering at himself in the mirror, eyes glinting over the various changes in his appearance. “You’ll have to get used to it.”
“I’d rather not have to do this again,” he muttered, staring at his face next to Matti’s. It was a lot greyer than the renegade’s.
“We’re not getting more operatives, so anymore injured or lost, and your attendance will be mandatory.”
Julian shook his head. “If I get caught in one of those things, I’ll get trapped in limbo for god knows how long. I’m not risking that.”
“Oh yes, comparatively the rest of us have nothing to risk.” Matti looked at Julian’s reflection, eyes unexpectedly hard. “None of us want to die. We’re not disposable grunts or whatever narrative you’ve constructed in your head. Any one of Kyline’s soldiers would take a bullet to save you from capture but just remember, they’re losing more from that than you. Their sacrifice is because you’re of more strategic value but don’t think for a minute that you’ve got more intrinsic value.” Then the look vanished, replaced by a casual smile. “Humanize your teammates. Keeps people alive.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh good, Tara’s almost here.”
Julian, briefly forgetting who Tara was, stared at Matti blankly in the mirror for another second before the younger man rolled his eyes and headed for the door.
“Right. Tara.” The scolding had hit him from left field but it was a valid point and Julian felt a little sick at how self centered he’d gotten. Military operations weren’t fun in the slightest. “She’s coming in here—”
His question was truncated by the door bursting open. A woman entered, pushing a cleaning cart. She turned, slapping down a ‘cleaning, don’t enter’ sign, before shutting the door behind her.
It took the woman sliding open the cart and unloading a pistol for herself, a pistol and sniper rifle for Matti, and thrusting a pistol into Julian’s hands for him to recognize Luli.
“I didn’t realize you’d be changing,” he said, still staring at the gun.
“Take your weapon. Lapinsky did say I’d be bringing the weapons, yes?” She glared at the sniper for his lack of communications before pulling out a number of guns, including one of the venojets Julian recognized from Sofia’s lab.
“Thought it was obvious.” Matti wasn’t paying them much mind as his fingers danced over his rifle, before snapping off a few components to fit it in his backpack. “MY apologies, Luli.”
Luli seemed to think better of scolding him. “Just take this… dart gun thing and get into position.”
He saluted. “Copy that Specialist.” He looked at Julian, that serious look back in his eyes. “You’re on civilian protection duty. Remember that.”
Then he slung the bag over his shoulder and disappeared from the bathroom.
Luli pulled out a spray bottle. “Alright, give me a second to clean a bit. Make it look convincing. You know how to hide that thing—Blake! Point it at the ground!”
Julian fumbled the gun before pointing it down. Trigger control was a lot easier to forget than he’d thought.
“Uh, just like, in my waistband?”
She sighed. “Let me finish getting the mirrors. Just don’t kill anyone while I’m at it.”
Soon the room was filled with the acrid scent of cleaners and Luli put back the chemicals.
“Here, change out your clothes. Careful not to dislodge your hair.” Her own transformation had been dramatic: makeup gone, hair now in a bun that hid the red streak, she could have been a different person.
Julian felt like his own disguise was not as effective. He still looked like Pieter Petroff but in a janitor’s outfit. It wasn’t until Luli plopped a hat on his head that he felt better.
“Alright, we’re on bathroom duty,” she said. “We’ve got four more to hit before everyone is armed. Ready?”
What followed was probably the most fun he’d had on the whole operation. No one looked twice at the two of them as they coasted down the hall with their big cleaning cart. They slipped into the first bathroom, halfway down the hall, where Shanti and LaForge were shooting the shit.
They both jumped to attention and Julian and Luli burst in, bearing gifts. Both rewarded the pair with face splitting grins as they received their gifts.
“Felt naked without this,” LaForge said, holstering his.
“Ew, not something anyone wants to see.”
“Shut up, Shanti.” This one surprisingly came from Luli, who had a wry grin on her face. “Now get to your positions and radio in the Colonel when you get there.”
They both saluted. “Copy that Specialist.”
The next bathroom was a little harder cause the spring breakers crowd was coed. Nisslon and Bruni were both in the women’s room, which Julian and Luli hit first, only to find it occupied with more than just the soldiers.
An older woman toting a six year old girl was loudly discussing Bruni’s piercing.
“Ma’am—” the private started, but the woman wasn’t having too much of it.
“And you’ve got the nerve to tell me and my child to leave when she has to go potty. You, looking like that.” She gestured at Bruni.
Nisslon, who wasn’t known for her patience, was looking about ready to go when Luli cleared her throat.
“Well you’re all going to have to continue this at a different restroom because this one is closed for cleaning.” The four paused mid argument and turned to Luli. Julian could see both soldiers’ eyes scan over her, puzzlement creasing their brows. Then Bruni’s eyes landed on Julian and she rolled them hard.
“Eurgh. Fine. Let’s just go to the one by the fucking gate,” Nisslon said.
“My child!” shrieked the woman.
“Mommy I don’t have to go potty. Can we go on the plane now?”
Julian watched as the four left, each in a different state of annoyance. Luli watched them leave before sighing.
“Clear the restrooms. How hard is it to clear the restrooms?” She massaged her temples for a moment before pulling out her spray bottle and dousing the room in a lethal amount of cleaner.
“Why are you doing that?” Julian asked, coughing.
“Gotta make it look like we were here.” She emptied what looked like an entire container of bleach into one of the toilets. “Hate cleaning bathrooms. Anything but bathrooms. Haven’t cleaned one since I was seven.”
Julian wanted to offer his assistance but he was afraid to get in her way. Not to mention, he didn’t want to mess up his hair or makeup.
It took Luli another five minutes to make the room look, well, not clean, but maybe cleaned. Once they made it to the men’s restroom, the weapons drop went smoother.
“Took your sweet time,” Howard grumbled as he loaded up his guns.
“You can bring that up with Nilsson and Bruni.” Luli shoved some extra guns into his hands. ”Those are theirs.”
“They got caught up with a mom who wouldn’t leave,” Julian said, trying to provide some context. “So we just kinda kicked them all out. They’re at the bathroom by the gate.”
“Copy that, zombie.”
Julian pulled a face but didn’t say anymore as the four soldiers filed from the room.
The other drops went more smoothly. At one point Luli even trusted Julian to drop the guns off with Grace.
“I need to take a call. Ditch those with the Sergeant and meet me at the bathroom by Gate A8.”
She wasn’t supposed to have left him but he was confident in his ability to pull off the task. He knocked twice on the women’s restroom door.
“In here!” He could recognize the dulcet tones of the Sergeant anywhere so he cleared his throat and shouted back.
“Maintenance! Uh, cleaning, rather.” Off to a brilliant start but there was no time to kick himself. Instead he pushed the cart in, slapped down the sign, and wheeled around to face a tense looking Grace. Her disguised covered her shockingly blond hair with a brown wig and her scars were masterfully hidden.
“Just you?” she asked. “Where’s… Tara?”
“I think cleaning lady is Milly. Tara was my son’s girlfriend.”
She nodded and a corner of her lip lifted in a smile. “You following along fine?”
“Yeah I think so! We had some trouble with two of the spring breakers. Couldn’t get the civies out of the restroom so we had to improvise.”
She bit back a smile for about a half second before laughing. “Damn kid, we really got our top agent out there.” Then she looked over his shoulder. “Where is Milly?”
“She had to take a call.” Her look worried him for a second and he looked over his shoulder, as if also expecting to see Luli. “Is that weird?”
Grace shook her head as she set to work pulling her guns out of the cart. “Just means the Colonel’s got more shit to chat about than she can text. Probably got eyes on Von Martwitz.” A grin spread across her face, either at the idea of facing down the immortal or at the large gun she’d unsheathed from the cart. “Hello again, girl.”
Julian wasn’t really a pacifist but he didn’t like how much the soldiers loved their pet guns. It shouldn’t bother him but when he looked at the guns, he felt uneasy, knowing that every single one of them had killed a human being. It seemed downright ominous to dote on something that had killed so much.
“Right. So does that mean we’re pressed for time?”
Grace looked at him. “Honestly, couldn’t tell you. I’d ask Luli when you get outside.”
“Right. Alright.” He hovered, wanting to say more. The idea that Lady Helga could be arriving any minute made him suddenly realize how real this mission was. If it went ugly, there were a lot of people he might just never see again.
“You got that look on your face.”
He looked back at her, whatever look she’d referred to now replaced with a wry, if tired, smile. “You think this thing is gonna go sideways?”
“Mmm, no. I think it might be unsuccessful because of how much could go wrong, but it’s not going to end with everyone dying. Worst case scenario…” She looked back at her gun. “We just call Omicron and give them the head’s up.”
He nodded, still tense, so she put a hand on his shoulder. “I know I shouldn't worry,” he said but she shook her head.
“You’re not a soldier and you shouldn’t be here. So yeah, second combat situation in a few weeks for someone who should be in a lab or whatever, I get it.” Her eyes were that same earnest blue that burned when they got into a discussion about immortality and religion or when she was kicking his ass in training. “You’re handling it well. Trust the process.” She slung her gun over her back and pulled her long coat over it before striding to the door. “Oh, and Julian?”
“Hmm?” He looked over from his cart at her.
“Give ‘em hell if they do come for you. You know what it’s like.” With this, and final grin, she was out the door.
Will we get our first peek at the elusive Lady Helga next chapter? Or will Julian blow his cover? Find out later today!
submitted by Samara_Buckley_Derby to redditserials [link] [comments]


2020.09.19 07:51 wtnumthrowawayisthis Adult cam chat

content warning for pedophilia/ephebophila:
Because of COVID and isolation I started camming on sites like dirtyroulette a while back. It's been kind of fun, sometimes I land on a hot stranger and chat with them. Today however, I met this guy who kept calling me "little bro."
I thought it was kind of hot, and one of my fantasies has always been to have an older brother who could teach me about sex (and obviously I know all about sex now, but it was kind of a fantasy for me to have an older bro/mentor who could teach me about penises and show me sexy things). He seemed to be leaning into this fantasy as well, so I shared it with him and we went back and forth talking about it.
However, at one point, he kept asking me "what age would you let me play with you?" and I think I said "gee if we were brothers and I was still discovering masturbation I'd probably let you play with me, but let's just say 18?" Then he told me that he was thinking of younger...like a 11 year old who could sit on his lap and "let him touch me".
This made me kind of worried. It seems like this guy has an attraction to little kids. While I've pictured myself as an adolescent in this kind of fantasy, I've never EVER wanted to the the adult talking to a little kid, and I would certainly never act on any kind of attraction to a minor. I played along because although I didn't really like the idea of being a 11 year old, I was still thinking about the older brother thing, until he hit next cam and moved on. Is there something I should do? Part of me wondered if I should call the cops but there's no evidence he's actually acting on his attraction/grooming kids, and I have no information about how to find him again... I don't think anything we did has broken any laws, but it makes me uncomfortable that there's a guy out there who is fantasizing about kids -- maybe there could be some way to send him resources for help or something. What do I do? (and I feel selfish asking, but is there any legal liability for me??)
submitted by wtnumthrowawayisthis to askgaybros [link] [comments]