#Smart Identification

[isalro]

Efficient and accurate live scans are increasingly preferred in various situations – especially compared to traditional fingerprinting methods. 

[mantisgodsdomain]

Happy two year anniversary of us "being possessed by some sort of evil spirit" and writing out a ficlet of roughly 1k words that we did not remember writing after we finished them. In hindsight we probably should have known we were plural considerably before we actually figured it out, but it is very funny that we had someone overhaul our body for like an hour and write a full-blown thing that we later read without memory of ever having written it despite being aware that it was our body to type it and we still did not think for a second that "hmm... maybe this could be a plural thing".

[cruelsister-moved2]

the conspiratorial thinking on tiktok is out of control ngl and i guess the blame is ultimately on the US propaganda machine because it's so easy to learn that communism is not "just like nazism" and feel betrayed and confused because you've been lied to your whole life and then immediately go and eat up a different set of lies that are specifically catered to your current distrust of any and all authority, rather than doing the hard work of educating yourself which involves scary things like reading "books" and critical thinking. instead just go nope the academic presses and fucking wikipedia are all controlled by Jewish Capitalists and only this random person on tiktok knows the Truth

[everythingaboutbirds]

In this Netvue Birdfy Smart Feeder video with a Northern Cardinal feeding, you'll see the stunning red plumage of a Northern Cardinal as it gracefully visits the feeder. It showcases their unique feeding behavior and interactions, giving you a glimpse into the world of backyard birdwatching. This video captures the serene and delightful moments of these charming birds, offering a peaceful escape into nature.

[adair-the-bard]

i got a haircut today, and it looks awesome! highly considering taking a photo and showing it off..

also school was cancelled because a pipe burst. can't wait to miss out on more school because of strikes

[armstrongmachinebuilders]

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[torusdove]

Med-student!Satoru who comes home late after spending the entire day cramming for his upcoming exam.

Don't get me wrong; he is insanely smart, and he doesn't need a lot of time to progress and understand the given material. He does, however, want to get to the bottom of things, understanding them beyond whatever the professor had taught them.

He took pleasure into understanding and getting down to a t about the different concepts. It's no surprise that he loves the complexity of neurology, neoplasia and the immune system.

However, something as simple as anatomy has had his heart ever since the beginning of his degree. Especially because it was something he could share with you.

—

"Nd this," he had whispered out, index finger softly pushing down on the little slope that was right between your collarbones, "this is what we call the manubrium. It's the first part of your sternum."

Satoru had learnt this in his first year, remembering the very few classes he had gotten about anatomy in the first quarter. How he had practiced on Suguru's chest to find the manubriosternal joint.

Now, he was trying to find it on you.

His finger trailed a little more downwards, just above the cleavage of your breasts, "then there is a thin line in between the first part, the manubrium, and the middle part, which we call the corpus of the sternum."

This wasn't the first time Satoru had laid in your sheets, hand resting in the palm of his hand, which he held up by leaning on his elbow in bed, half his body turned to you. You had loved it from the very first time he had started doing it. It felt intimate, and yet so meaningful.

Satoru chose your body to describe something he had an interest in, something he wanted to pursue a career in. He explained it in simple terms, making sure you could always follow along and understand what he was saying or illustrating.

"The thin line is known as the manubriosternal joint, an identification mark for doctors to find the second costa, which is latin for rib, as it is immediately attached to the manubriosternal joint." You could feel how his finger would move a little more tot the right, in search of your second rib. Once he could feel the bone underneath his fingertip, he smiled softly before going back to the very middle, trailing downwards in between your breasts.

When it fell right underneath your costal arch, you felt your breath hitch in your throat, eying his face, only to find his eyes completely focused on his fingertip, "The xiphoid process is the last part of your sternum, divided from the corpus by the xiphisternal joint."

You knew exactly what would happen next, already opening your arms widely to let him settle his head on top of your chest, right on the apex of your heart.

"To listen to your heartbeat," he had admitted once, after a very long day at his univeristy.

So, without keeping him up any longer to make sure he'd be rested for tomorrow, you had placed your lips against his temple, murmuring his favourite sentence against his soft skin, "I love you, 'toru."

[hostilemuppet]

if you watch, say, precure, youll notice that they have character formulas they reuse. theyll have "the well meaning yet clumsy one" (almost always the lead cure bc its common for little girls to think theyre trying their best but always coming up short), "the smart/nerdy one" "the one who likes fashion" "the one who was standoffish but defrosts" etc etc. this is because these character formulas sell well among little girls who relate to them or hope they will grow up to be that cool once theyre Big Girls (mid teens, but when youre 7 you think 14 is mature). its the same with basically every similar franchise that plans on selling merch. they want the sporty girls to relate to the sporty character, the nerdy girls to relate to the nerdy character, the fashionable girls to relate to the fashionable characters, the artsy girls to relate to the artsy characters. because, i cant stress this enough, THEIR GOAL IS TO MAKE MONEY. they are going to reuse character archetypes that proved to be successful because THEY WANT TO BE SUCCESSFUL AGAIN. you just think that izzy being kinda kooky makes her a pinkie pie clone bc you dont know what an archetype is 💀

saw someone criticise mlp g5 the other day with "zipp is sporty and confident so shes a carbon copy of rainbow dash" and other comparisons of that nature and i really REALLY wanted to tell them that franchises based around selling toys to little girls always base their characters around basic archetypes so kids can say "shes a tomboy! IM a tomboy!" and then pester their parents into buying the dolls of said tomboy

[vasquez-rocks]

i know most ppl haven’t seen it yet but wanted to write something abt how annoyed some of the critical discourse abt I Saw the TV Glow is making me. MAJOR SPOILERS below the break, be warned!!

so idk i’ve seen so many reviews of the film positing that it’s about the dangers of obsessive fandom and overidentification with fictional characters, esp vis a vis real life self-actualization/coming out. (like, essentially every review has some of this in it, from what i’ve seen.) and, like: i don’t think that’s wrong, but i also think it’s massively underselling what schoenbrun is doing here. the metaphor of the show’s bleed-over is so smart because works in both directions at once.

like, in one direction: when maddy asks owen to come into the show by burying himself alive, you can read it as her asking him to abandon his real-life responsibilities, and the material facts of his real life body, in favor of a fantasy life where everything is already fixed. she’s inviting him to skip over the hard, messy work of transitioning and to sink even deeper into the analgesic obsessions he uses to numb his dysphoria. in this interpretation, it’s, like, the equivalent of overprioritizing “transition goals” instead of actually medically/legally/socially transitioning if that’s what you want, living forever in the ideal instead of taking difficult steps to change the material. (also, uh, if you don’t think she’s literally correct about the nature of reality, she is in fact asking him to kill himself. there’s that.)

BUT! it also works the other way. when maddy tells owen that the show is real, that their lives are just the buried dreams of dying girls in another life, she terrifies him by confronting him with something he’s always known about himself: he was supposed to be a girl. what she proposes is radical, dangerous, seemingly unhinged, and based on a childish fixation: all the things scared closeted trans people worry transition is, basically. on a more figurative level, too, the feeling she’s telling owen is real – that his real life is just a dream within a dream, that his home is not his home, that he belongs somewhere else, that he is supposed to be SOMEONE else – is something so, so, so many closeted trans people have felt before, myself so much included. when he sobs in the shower, yelling “this isn’t my home!” at his dad, i felt a sense of identification stronger than i’ve almost ever gotten from art before. when maddy finally calls him isabel, it’s the gentlest thing i can imagine.

in this read – which i do love, while thinking the other one is simultaneously true – it’s less “come sink deeper into delusion with me instead of dealing with your own life” and more “it’s going to be terrifying, but that childish dream of being a girl you once held wasn’t childish, and it can be real if you’re courageous enough.” he says he runs away from the football field because he thinks maddy’s not mentally well; it takes very little analysis of subtext to figure out he’s running away because he’s afraid of how much he wants what she’s offering. and, of course, the idea of the visible world being an illusion laid atop the world in which one is one’s truest self is a classic trope of trans cinema going all the way back to the matrix. (also: while i’m pretty death-of-the-author-pilled in most media analysis, it kinda seems like schoenbrun themself has interpreted the film in this way, as they’ve spoken at length in interviews about how, to them, transition felt like asking to be buried alive.)

all of which is to say: i think the film IS commenting on fandom, obsession, overidentification, and the ease with which queer people can sink into art as a way to dissociate from real life. but i think it makes the film so much more cynical and so much less tender to treat it as the ONLY read of the film’s relationship with the pink opaque. art, especially the sort of slow, metaphor-laden art schoenbrun makes, is best when it is complex and productively contradictory. the pink opaque is a problem, and an escape, and a fantasy, and it’s real, and one day isabel is going to wake up.

[isalro]

In an increasingly digital world like ours, robust identity verification has become paramount to safeguarding sensitive information and maintaining secure access to various systems. 

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

I don’t think people understand how smart Leon actually is. That man had high marks from the police academy, hence why Chief Irons (in the orientation letter Leon has in RE2R) says that his grades are commendable and that R.P.D. are proud to have him on the force.

This got me thinking a lot because at first I thought being a police officer didn’t take much given that anyone today can be in the force.

But that wasn’t the case in 1998.

I did a little research because I thought it would be interesting to see just what Leon had to go through to become a police officer.

Back in the 90s, cellphones and modern technology didn’t exist such as DNA identification and body cams/car cams. This definitely made the job a bit harder than it is today because there was a need for more evidence to be collected and the overuse of your brain. Nowadays, technology is an important factor in the police force and almost everything is done by the computer now.

So let’s picture this: It’s the late 90s right before he got sent to Raccoon City. He’s in the academy and he has to go through training. Especially with weapons since most academies switched from revolvers to semi-auto guns (already something a bit modern for that time).

For those who’ve played the game, when you go into the Shooting Range room, you can clearly see just how old the room is compared to modern shooting ranges. Not only is the design of the target paper old, it’s also very simplistic compared to today’s (in 2024, most markings have numbers and more lines for accuracy than back in the day).

This meant that Leon had to train a good amount of time to perfect his aim. It also meant that he had to go through driving training—which was mostly Emergency Vehicle Operations Courses (EVOC: safe and defensive driving for cops in other words)

I’d like to think that his determination (when he told Ada that the reason he joined the force was for people like Emma and Gunshop owner) really helped him advance through his academic route of the training and I’d like to believe that he go high scores because of that.

The 90s were a pivotal time for new policies to be introduced in police academies. When Leon was a kid, presumably during the 80s, he probably saw just how different it was back then than it is now (in 1998) lots of “new” technology were introduced to him when he first started the training. And he probably had to adapt quickly to the technologies and new techniques.

Leon is quick on his feet, he grasps a lot of things and I’m tired of people making him out to be as some dumb blonde with muscles. He’s very smart and we see that throughout the games and films.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he was GT when he grew up.

EDIT: MB YALL😭 GT is a program for students K-12 where they’re put in advanced classes like AP or IB. It stands for Gifted and Talented (something like the Magnet Program in some schools in the US)

[strayheartless]

Things in Zack’s ADHD apartment that are necessary for him to function (as implemented by Angeal.)

His toothbrush lives on his nightstand. Not in the draw, not in a cabinet over the sink, not in a little pot on the sink. On. His. Nightstand. Because in Zack’s brain, if the first thing he see’s in a morning is his toothbrush he thinks “I need to remember to do that, I’ll do it now” and then gets to the bathroom and thinks “I might as well shower and do my hair too…. Hey I need to pee!”

Everything he needs for meal prep goes in a little container in the fridge and is labeled with the days they are to be consumed by. Even the stuff that doesn’t classically live in the fridge go in to these cubbies. Angeal checks them every week and if there is left over stuff he takes it away, makes small lunch portions, freezes them and leaves a note on Zack’s fridge that says lunches are already there for him.

Speaking of, there is a dry erase whiteboard on Zack’s fridge door. It has a grocery list side and a calendar on it. Cloud tends to be the one who updates it when Zack forgets (which is a lot).

Zack’s game consoles are in a cupboard with his games to stop himself getting distracted while he typed up his reports. This was Zack’s own solution and it works semi well.

His sword hangs on a peg on the back of the door now.

Shoe rack. It’s messy but he can see all of his shoe options.

Files on his shelf that are clearly labeled: “pay checks, bills and taxes”, “letters from home”, “bills part 2”, “commission certificate and graduation paperwork”, “legal thingies”, “passport, birth certificates, and other Identification stuff”. The files were Genesis’ idea. They are written in fun fonts and in colourful felt tips, so he knows where they go.

If he forgets to put things in files they are usually on the coffee table and Sephiroth (the filing fiend) usually does a weekly sweep and sort of his documents.

Laundry basket hoop. Doesn’t always work but sometimes it gives him the dopamine.

A physical letter box on the wall by his front door. He gets a dopamine hit from using a key to check his mail…. Nobodies willing to question it.

The worlds most irritating alarm clock.

Cloud. Just Cloud.

Bottles and kitchen tools all hung at eye level.

Spiny spice rack. He could have had a shelf but the spiny one entertains him.

The smart watch Lazard had Reeve make him. It reminds him of basically everything.

Stamp the dog hydration app that makes sad puppy noises when he needs to drink water (he was irritated about it but he doesn’t actually like upsetting the dog.)

A roomba with googly eyes on it called George. George is on a timer.

Electric air freshener and automatic air filtration.

Kunsel.

[chamomiletealeaf]

This was kind of inspired by the conversation @captainswhore and I had about Price getting horny watching you wash his car in a bikini lol but I decided to write this with Soap.

Warnings: tit fucking, playful banter, suggestive gestures and innuendos, Johnny makes reader orgasm from water pressure from a hose 🫣

Soap on leave seeing you, a cute little thing at a charity car wash washing someone's car and imagining how you'd look all soaked and wet from the sudsy water while you washed his 4 Runner (@brewed-pangolin has me fully convinced Soap has a 4 Runner).

You're wearing a white T-shirt and a pretty little yellow bikini underneath it while you and your friends wash people's cars for donations for veterans.

Soap sees the sign and smirks to himself, knowing he could probably get himself a private show watching you wash his car if he pulled the military card on you.

He pulls up and you go up to his car letting him know about the cause and asking if he'd be willing to donate in exchange for a car wash.

He smiles at you and says:

"Of course lass, I'm a soldier myself. This is very sweet of you." He says as he shows you his identification.

Your eyes light up as you smile big.

"Oh! Then you don't need to pay anything! I'd be happy to wash your car for you for free sir!" You say so enthusiastically it almost melts Johnny's heart.

Then he smirks devilishly as he lowers his voice a little bit.

"Say, if you insist on washing this dirty ol' thing for free then I gotta give you something in return at least huh bonnie." He says and you blush, noting the smirk on his face and tone of voice in his suggestive statement.

"Oh no sir, don't worry about it, I'd be happy to do it for nothing in return. Least I can do for all of your service." You say, then add one more thing quietly after looking around to see if anyone would hear, but your friends are busy with other customers.

"If you'd like, you can drive around back and I can give you a private show." You say, feeling more confident and he smiles.

"Sounds lovely lass." He says, and you bite back a smile then direct him around to the back.

You grab a bucket and sponge and walk back to meet him.

When you get back there, you're surprised to see that he's outside of his car, leaning against the wall waiting for you and he notices your shock.

"What? I'm getting a private show, might as well make sure I see all of it." He says and you giggle, the handsome man making you feel ditzy.

You turn on the hose and spray his car, not giving him what he wants just yet.

"So, what exactly do you do in the military?" You ask him, trying to start conversation.

"Classified honey." He says, crossing his arms and you try to discreetly rub your thighs together at the pet name.

"Ok well, how long have you been in the military?"

"Since I was a lad. Been there for a long while." He says, and the hose suddenly changes pressure and spats out water against you, wetting the front of your white t shirt.

You yelp as the water seeps into your shirt, exposing your yellow bikini underneath which makes Johnny bite back a smile.

"Sorry." You giggle. "Wasn't expecting that."

He watches you rinse down his car then you grab the soap bucket and wring out the sponge, some soapy water getting on your thighs and dripping down.

"You know, my callsign is Soap." He says, and you look at him puzzled.

"Really? Why's that? Or is that classified too?" You say smugly teasing him, and he laughs.

"Smart wee thing aren't you." He says and you wink at him.

"My real name's Johnny." He says, and you say your name back.

"I'm y/n." And he repeats it back with a smile.

"Pretty just like you." He says, and you blush.

The sight of your white shirt being soaked, sticking to your chest and the sudsy water dripping down your thighs making your skin glisten has Johnny adjusting his pants where he stands watching you, and you notice, but you love it. He was so hot. It's not everyday you see a man as fine as him, so you took advantage of the situation.

"Ugh shirt's getting in the way." You say, and slowly strip the now soaking shirt off of your body.

Johnny then takes a seat by the lawn chair next to him and leans back with his arms crossed and legs open, really taking in the sight in front of him.

"Fuck" He whispers under his breath as the water and soap drip down your pretty body.

You walk around the car in front of Johnny and lean forward, bending over to exaggerate your scrubs of the sponge on the hood of his car giving him the perfect view of your ass and covered pussy obstructed by the yellow fabric.

You bend down to dip the sponge in the bucket and stay bent over for as long as you can, really letting Johnny get a good look at your ass and thighs before you come back up to continue washing the car.

Johnny watches with his lips slightly parted and he adjusts his hips in his seat with a grunt, his pants getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.

You then move to the hood of the car so Johnny can see the whole side of your body as you seductively wring the excess water in the sponge out onto your chest, the soapy water running down your body.

Johnny reaches a hand down to palm the bulge in his jeans as he grunts out an audible "fuck" and you giggle again, pressing your chest against the hood of the car as you wash it.

You continue teasing Johnny as you wash his car, then go to grab the hose to rinse the soap off.

You then move to the side of the car in front of Johnny again after turning on the hose, and rinse the soap off your ass before rinsing the car.

"You wanna help me rinse?" You turn back with puppy eyes and ask Johnny, and in record timing he's stood up and pressed to your back.

He watches the soapy water run down your ass and the backs of your thighs and he can't take it anymore. He grips your hips and makes a satisfied grunting noise.

"Well fuck me dolly, aren't you a little tease." He says into your ear as you push your ass back into him with a giggle.

"C'mon, help me out. Can't wash this car all by myself, sir." You say, and Johnny moans at you calling him sir and wiggling your ass against his now rock hard dick.

Johnny lets go of your hips and goes to unbuckle his belt and pulling his thick cock out of his jeans, and you giggle again as you feel it slap against your lower back.

Johnny kicks your feet out and slaps your ass, the suds sticking to his hand from the impact and flying off from the speed he takes his hand away.

You yelp and Johnny laughs.

"Aww wasn't expecting that were you bonnie?" He says as he slides his cock between your thighs, making you moan.

"This ok?" He whispers, and you whimper, pushing back against him, urging him to continue.

Johnny smiles against your ear and he begins to thrust, fucking your thighs nice and good, the soapy water making his cock slide easily between them.

Johnny leans back gripping your hips as he watches how the impact of his hips against your ass makes your ass and thighs jiggle and he grips your hair, pushing you down against the car hood.

"Such a fuckin' tease aren't ye." He says and you moan, his cock sliding between your thighs hitting your clit perfectly through your yellow, skimpy, bikini bottoms. "Such a bonnie little thing. Bet this pussy is even prettier aye?" He says then smacks your ass again before he continues to fuck your thighs harder.

You grip the sponge in your hand and push back against him with a whimper, blissed out from the feeling of him and his words.

"Turn around. Need to see these tits." He says, then grips you by the shoulders to spin you around, suds sticking to your chest.

"Fuck me." He says, and you smirk, pushing your tits together to tease him yet again, which sets him off.

His eyes darken as he grabs you by your elbow and pulls you to the chair behind him as he sits down.

"On your knees. Gonna fuck these perfect fuckin' tits. All soaped up and ready for me."

You get on your knees and tug the tops of your bikini top down a bit so that your nipples are barely peeking out of them. You then grip Johnny's cock and give it a few tugs before sliding it between your tits, the string of the bikini restraining his cock from moving out from between them.

You start to bounce up and down on your knees, not caring about the painful gravel digging into your skin as you titty fuck him.

"Oh my god fuck. That's it. Bounce those tits on me." Johnny moans and throws his head back.

You continue to fuck him with your tits, looking up at him with puppy eyes and a smirk, the soapy water beginning to soak his jeans under your breasts.

You look down and watch the tip of his cock appear and disappear between your tits covered in soapy water and you moan at the sight.

Johnny is a mess above you, panting like a dog with his cheeks flushed and he watches you titty fuck him in your skimpy little bikini and he swears he's never seen anything so fucking hot before.

"Cum on my tits." You whimper out, and Johnny moans.

"Want you to cum all over my tits. Please sir, need it so bad." You say, and Johnny moves your hands from your tits so he can squeeze them together now to fuck them himself. You move your hands to his thighs and let him use your pretty body.

Johnny squishes your tits together and thrusts his hips up into them and you stick your tongue out, catching a tiny lick to his tip every time he thrusts.

"Most perfect fuckin' tits I've ever seen. Gonna make a mess of them. Gonna cum all over these bonnie tits hm? That what you want dolly? Want me to fuck your tits nice and good?" Johnny moans out to you and you nod with a whimper.

You go to untie your bikini top, letting it loosely fall around your tits, and Johnny grunts at the sight of more of your chest being exposed.

"Yeah just like that. Such a good girl, makin' herself all pretty for me." He says, his thrusts getting messier and the mixture of water, soap, and precum smacking against your tits making a loud sloppy noise.

"Open your mouth honey. Stick out that tongue for me. Thaaat's it. Such a good girl aren't ye. Fuck I'm gonna cum. Such a bonnie fuckin' sight." He says as you stick your tongue out, waiting for him to shoot his cum all over your mouth and tits.

Johnny thrusts a few more times before his cheeks flush and he cums so hard he shoots his cum onto your tits and tongue, and some even getting up onto your cheek, which makes you giggle.

He's vocal, and loud, but you think it's adorable. He looks so fucking hot sitting above you like this, his cock nestled between your tits.

"Fuck lass. That- You're fuckin' amazing." He says as he bends down to help you off the ground and into his lap.

You place your forehead against his as he comes down from his orgasm.

"Wanna rinse me off?" You ask, nibbling his ear.

"Fuck you're dangerous aren't you dolly. Dirty wee thing." He says with a smile and you giggle.

You get off his lap to hand him the hose but he grabs you by the hips so you sit down in his lap, back against his chest.

"Wait you're gonna get wet!" You exclaim to him with genuine concern and he pinches your cheek, thinking you look so fucking adorable looking at him like that.

"Don't you worry about that lass. Lemme take care of ye now. You've been so good to me now haven't you." He says as he spreads your legs to rest each one over his knees.

He brings the hose up to your chest and watches over your shoulder how the mess he made along with the soap washes away and he coos at you.

"See? Isn't that better honey?" He says, and you moan at the feeling of the nice cool water against your skin during the hot summer day.

Then, Johnny moves the hose down your body slowly, rinsing off your torso and thighs and making you wiggle as he gets closer and closer to your pussy.

He smirks as an idea pops into his head.

"How 'bout we move these out the way hm? Let me make you feel good yeah?" He says into your ear as he plays with the bow on the side of your bikini bottoms and you nod in anticipation of what he's going to do next.

Johnny unties the bow holding your bikini bottoms up on your hips and he pulls the fabric away from your pussy. You blush as you realize you're on display for him and he laughs darkly at the sight of how wet you are.

"Can tell yer so fuckin' wet even with all this water on ye."

Johnny rubs your thighs and playfully pinches and smacks your clit before he runs the water stream over your pussy.

"Oh fuck." You moan and arch your back against him.

"Uh uh, sit still for me aye?" He says as he grips your thigh from under your knee to keep it open.

Then, Johnny turns up the water pressure on the hose and directs the stream over your clit and you yelp in pleasure.

"Ah oh my god! Johnny!" You say in surprise but you can't help your eyes from rolling back from how good the water pressure feels against your clit.

"That feel good bonnie? Feels nice up on your cute wee clit like that doesn't it." Johnny coos in your ear as you whimper.

Johnny's pants are completely soaked but he doesn't care, not when he's got a sweet pretty little thing like you wiggling and moaning in his lap.

"Yeah that's it. Keep those legs open for me. Wanna see you cum." He says, hand still holding your thigh open against him.

It doesn't take long for the pleasure to build and your at the edge.

"Oh Johnny. Fuck I'm- Oh my god I'm gonna cum." You whimper out with tears pricking at your eyes from how good it feels and how hot it is to be held in his lap like this.

Johnny turns to whisper in your ear but he keeps his eyes on your pussy being sprayed by the hose.

"Do it bonnie. Cum for me. Been so good. Lemme see that pretty little pussy throb." He says, and that's all it takes for you to cum.

You throw your head back and your eyes unfocus as you cum, legs shaking in Johnny's grasp.

You cum so hard you feel your cunt pounding between your legs and Johnny watches as your clit twitches.

"Yeahhh that's it. Yeah just like that dolly. Cummin' all nice and pretty for me." Johnny says, talking you through your orgasm.

Johnny leaves the stream going for a few seconds before turning it off.

"You ok lass?" He asks, and you nod panting, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"C'mon, let's get you a dry shirt. Don't want you to be cold." He says as he strips off his shirt and pulls it over your head to dress you.

"There. Looks better on you than me." He says with a smirk and you laugh.

Johnny ties your bikini bottoms back up and you then try to get up but your legs shake, so he catches you and holds you up.

"Woah careful now." He says, strong arms wrapping around you.

You compose yourself and you both walk towards the car. He walks you to the driver's side then open the door, rummaging through the glove box for something. He pulls out a notepad and pen and writes something down before ripping the page out and handing it to you.

"Here. Maybe we can go on a proper date sometime." He says, and you take the paper, realizing it's his number.

"I'd love that." You say, smiling up at him. "Considering you made me cum my brains out." You add, making him laugh.

He hops into his car and turns to you to say something before closing the door.

"Oh and uh, hopefully your friends don't notice your shirt. Or the state your legs are in." He says smugly, and you playfully hit his chest while rolling your eyes.

"Ugh, get out of here, before they actually notice." You say, and he closes the door and rolls down the window.

"Hopefully your friends don't notice your pants." You say to him referencing his soaking wet jeans.

"They'll probably be too blinded by how shiny my car is to notice." He says with a wink and you blush.

"Call me tonight?" He asks, and you nod. He then starts the engine of his 4 Runner and drives away after blowing you a kiss jokingly and you roll your eyes again.

You made your way back to your friends and they were so busy with customers they didn't notice you were gone. Hopefully they don't notice the paper with a certain soldier's number sticking out of the bow of your bikini bottoms, or the way you had a silly smile on your face for the rest of the day.

Washing cars was the best thing you and your friends ever did.

[shirt-n-tie-girl]

Russian conscription police ID check, only draft dodgers, dissidents innocent by standers and criminals have anything to fear

[ellewritesalright]

The Lost Princess - Part 1

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Synopsis: The old Queen Mother of Kerch's former royal family is offering a hefty reward to whoever returns her rumored-to-be-alive granddaughter to her. Kaz being Kaz hears about the reward and hatches an elaborate plot involving a fake princess. Reader is a lowly amnesiac orphan and escaped indenture who flees to Ketterdam where she gets tangled in Kaz Brekker's plot.

A/N: Hello friends!! Here is part one of a series I started writing a few years back but never published. It's inspired by the movie and musical Anastasia. I hope you all enjoy, and I hope it makes enough sense haha

Warnings: sickness, mentions of death, mentions of drowning, mentions of violence. pls let me know if I've missed anything

Word Count: 2056

..........

It was happening again.

You sat upright in the bed of your cheap lodgings, swinging your legs to the side and touching the floor. The threadbare rug was itchy against your toes as you took deep breaths, a desperate attempt at grounding yourself. Still, the dizziness did not subside. It came along every so often, never without the cryptic nightmares. There was always vertigo and memories of plunging into dark waters.

At least, you thought they must be memories. There was a significant gap in your mind from birth to the age of about ten, and the first thing you could remember was waking up on a fishing boat on the True Sea. The fishers handed you over to their boss, a wealthy merchant named Devisser, once you made port, and you were made to work for him in a fifteen-year indenture. You had worked as a scullery maid in that man's second home on the southern shores, but you managed to escape your indenture five years early, running off to Ketterdam.

Nowadays you were free to do whatever you pleased--if it was within budget, of course. You had precious little in your life, and you couldn't squander your money in the gambling dens of the city. 

You had to be smart if you were to make it to Os Kervo. Another maid at the house had said that there was a better chance of smuggling yourself to Novyi Zem than to find a safe passage to Ravka, but you didn't let her sway you. You had to get to Os Kervo. It was difficult to explain, but you felt instinctively that someone was waiting there for you. In your dreams, the better and brighter ones where you could feel the warmth of arms around you, there was a voice that whispered, "I'll meet you there, my little tiger. We'll be together in Os Kervo."

The only trouble was how you could get there. You had no travel papers or identification, and it was difficult to obtain any--even fake ones--with such little money. It was a difficult position you were in. 

So you went about your life, picking up odd jobs using fake names. Your name is already fake as it was. The surname, Vos, was given to you by one of the more kind fishers who pulled you from the water. He gathered a mound of blankets around you and sat with his arm around you, trying desperately to keep you warm. Sometimes you wondered about him, wondered whether he was still fishing for Devisser. Perhaps if the captain of that ship had not seen fit to hand you over to their boss the kind fisher would have taken you in. Life might have been better if you had been offered a chance at a family instead of an apron and a crushing daily workload. 

Your feet carried you to the wardrobe in this shabby lodging room. You had to sweep a spider off your jacket before you slipped it on. The morning air was a nice reprieve against your warm face as you walked down the streets. Shops were opening, food vendors were starting the fire in their ovens; Ketterdam was waking up.

You meant to walk further than the Barrel, but you stopped as you saw the window of some sort of pawn shop. There was a dress in the window. It was the emerald green of a kind of fabric you had never owned but knew instinctively would be smooth to the touch, like a flat stone one might skip on the ocean. There was something so familiar about the short ruffles of the over-the-shoulder sleeves; perhaps you had seen a guest at the big house wearing something similar when you used to spy from the door to the servant's quarters. 

There was no way you would be able to purchase such a beautiful gown, you barely had enough money to get by as it was, but you were drawn into the shop because of it. You had to spend some more time around it and the other beautiful items in the shop. You hadn't been around such lavish things since… well, never.

The bell above the shop door jangled, alerting a woman at the counter to your appearance. She smiled, but the sight struck you in the chest. As an amnesiac orphan, you learned early on that people saw you as weak, helpless, and naive. For your youth and lack of guidance, you were perceived as easy pickings, and people tried their tricks on you more often than you could count, especially here in Ketterdam. You'd learned to tell what was genuine and what was fake when you interacted with others, and the woman's smile was the first real smile you'd seen in a long time. 

"A beautiful dress for a beautiful young lady," the woman said.

You shook your head with a pleasant enough smile. "I was just looking. I could never afford such a thing."

"And yet here you are in my shop." She followed your eyes to a case of assorted valuables. When she saw the dull music box you stared at she hummed. "Would you like to know a secret?" You turned to her "That music box is from the old palace. It belonged to the missing princess herself, I swear on Ghezen and the saints."

You pondered the validity of her words, keeping a level expression so as not to upset her with your doubt. Everything you heard about the dead royal family seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, and no amount of rumours about one of their daughters being alive somewhere would make it any less a ghost story. 

Still, you smiled politely. Despite her pleasant expression, she was only trying to sell you something, something you would not need even if you could have it. It wasn't even the most eye-catching thing in the display, just a decrepit old music box of tarnished silver. The music probably didn't even play anymore.

"It's lovely," you lied, "though I don't believe I could afford it."

"I could give you a special deal. I like to think there's something in my shop for everyone. The music box deserves to go home with you."

"That's generous, but--truly--I cannot make a purchase."

She tilted her head at you. "What is it you want, my dear? You've come into my shop, looked around, and you have the nerve to refuse my generosity--what is holding you back?"

"I've already told you," you said, "I couldn't afford it."

"And if I gave something for free?"

You brushed her off. "That's a terrible business model."

"Perhaps. But I like you, little runaway that you are. You're a long way from home--you deserve something nice."

You felt your pulse quicken. She shouldn't have known that. You weren't on the list of runaway indentures, so the stadwatch wouldn’t be looking for you. You breathed in before you could turn to her, balancing your composure with great care. Emotions were not useful in situations like this. "What brought you to that conclusion?"

"You keep your head down, which is normal in the Barrel, but you're not doing it out of habit, you're doing it out of fear. You must be hiding from something--from someone."

She was apt, you'd give her that. The trouble was figuring out the degree to which you could trust her. She could sell you back to Devisser in a second if she wanted to, but she could also be willing to help you. After all, she did say she liked you. You looked her in the eyes and then spoke.

"I'm trying to get to Ravka. The thing is, I don't have the money for travel papers, be they legal or illegal. I can't afford even that, and I could never afford anything in your shop." You straightened out, about to leave. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time--"

"Brekker can help you."

You stopped in your tracks. 

“He can get you to Ravka, no travel papers necessary.”

You faced her again, questioning, “Where can I find this Brekker?”

“He owns a club down the road from here. The sign has one of those annoying blackbirds on it.”

“A raven?”

“No, a pesky crow.” She fiddled with a set of keys around her neck. “Anyways, he can help you on your way. I assure you.”

“How much will this information cost me?”

“Nothing, my dear. I hope you make it to Ravka.”

You thanked her, ducking your head as you left the shop. You kept a wary eye about you as you wove through the streets, finding your way back to your lodgings. There was little trust in such a wicked city as Ketterdam, specifically here in the barrel, and you were constantly looking out for any sign of danger. The shopkeeper wasn’t dangerous, not from what you could tell, but you had to keep your wits. One false move and you could be sent back to Devisser. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

..........

Kaz stepped out from the back of the shop after the bell above the door rang out once more, signifying your departure. He was lucky to have been behind a particularly packed shelf furthest from the door, else you would have seen him and wouldn’t have explained your plan to Eugenia, the shopkeeper. Eugenia, for her part, did well to nudge you in the direction of the Crow Club. Undoubtedly she would want some credit for that, he knew. And, just as he thought, she brought it up as soon as he reappeared. 

"I've found your missing princess for you, Kaz," Eugenia smirked. "And how valuable she'll be for you."

"You didn't do anything for me, Eugenia. She'll be just as impossible as the others," he retorted.

He'd been auditioning young women to play the part of the missing princess for months now. Ever since he'd heard of a hefty reward posed by the old duchess and grandmother to the princess, he'd devised a plan, learning everything he could about the toppled royal family.

"I think she's the one. Do you know why?"

He kept his stare neutral, but the disapproval remained on his lips in permanence. Eugenia liked to speak as though she knew best, leading tourists and tramps into traps as she sold them tin under the guise that it was rare silver. Even wisdom offered by her would be false.

She continued. "She'll play the part--and she'll be damn good at it--because she's desperate. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not."

He tilted a brow at her. "What do you want?"

"Waive six months of my rent," she said. There was no way she thought that he would accept this deal. He didn't even have confirmation that you would find him or that you would be willing to go through with his masquerade. Eugenia was a fool.

"If she is a good fit for the princess, I will waive one month of your rent," he bargained.

"Hold on, she is going to make you a million Kruge--I deserve more than a month for that."

Kaz frowned at her, leaning into his cane. Who was she to make demands? "Firstly, there's no guarantee that she can do the job. Secondly, even if she is a good fit, I don't owe you anything. You decided to send her to me before you thought to broker a deal; I don't owe you a thing." 

She thumbed at her ring of keys. Eugenia was upset with herself and with him, he could tell. 

"If she can play the part," Kaz said, straightening out, "I am willing to waive three months of your rent on the condition that you supply me with whatever I might need from this shop free of cost."

"Whatever you need for the job, right? I can't just give you anything you want from now on."

He nodded. "Just for the job. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

Kaz left the shop without the rent that he'd initially come to collect, but with something much more valuable if he played his cards right. He'd only caught a glimpse of you, but he was inclined to believe what Eugenia said. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not, and you had sounded plenty desperate.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series please comment on this part or send me an ask. And if you want to request a fic, please feel free to send in an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Part 2

Tags: @justvibbinghere @happyhauntt