#Wave One Retail Space

[noidacommercial9]

What Makes Wave One Noida Special for a New Commercial Business Zone?

What Makes Wave One Noida Special for a New Commercial Business Zone?

If you’re inclined to installation business in a favorable commercial area in Noida, you have to be looking for the quality industrial projects within the city to e-book office areas, retail stores, food courts, and other enterprise areas too. For betterment, you can take a look at the information of Wave One Noida, that’s one of the sought-after commercial tasks inside the town. The project…

[hausofwoo]

graphic | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x afab reader

word count: 6.6K

summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡

working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.

you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.

on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.

you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.

the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.

so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.

sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?

you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.

you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.

the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?

you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.

you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.

after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”

“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.

“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”

“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”

“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”

“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.

mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.

“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.

“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”

“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”

“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”

“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”

“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”

“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.

“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.

“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”

“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”

“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”

“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”

he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”

“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.

for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?

you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.

you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.

you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.

“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”

you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.

he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”

he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.

“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”

“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”

“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.

“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.

“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.

“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”

you smile and accept it.

your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.

you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.

like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.

“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.

“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”

“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.

“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”

“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.

“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.

you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”

“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“you didn’t have to do that—”

“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”

you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.

“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.

“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.

“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”

“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”

you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.

sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin

you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.

sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it

you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.

the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.

“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”

“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”

“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”

“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”

“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”

“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”

“i will.”

the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.

it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.

he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.

after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.

you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.

you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”

mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”

you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.

he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”

“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.

you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it��s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.

after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.

“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.

“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”

“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”

“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.

“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.

“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”

he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”

you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.

there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.

you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.

you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.

you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.

it’s you.

the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.

it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.

“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”

mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.

“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”

“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”

“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”

“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“of course i like it,” you say.

“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.

“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”

mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”

mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.

a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.

“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.

he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.

he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.

his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—

“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.

you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.

“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”

he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.

suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.

he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.

you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—

“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.

he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.

he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.

he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—

“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—

“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.

his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.

“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.

you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.

“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.

“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.

it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.

“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”

“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”

all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.

his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—

“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”

“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.

with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.

“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”

he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.

he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—

“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.

“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”

he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.

he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.

his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.

he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—

“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.

he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.

and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.

“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.

he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.

“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.

“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”

“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.

“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.

“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.

“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.

a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

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[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 

Not of his own free will, anyway. 

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 

"Hey, language!" 

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 

His best friend was going to fucking freak. 

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!” 

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 

He came up empty. 

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 

He got a flat stare back. "No." 

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 

Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 

 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 

How silent his normally loud house would be. 

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 

 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  

 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear. 

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 

"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 

"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 

Bonus: 

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 

"That was different. I was discovering myself." 

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 

"I hate you." 

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweet Treat

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You bake one of your favourite fall treats for your coworkers but one of them takes it to mean more than it does.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: this is the fourth of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The leaves feel more vibrant as you walk along the autumnal street. Clusters sit at the base of street poles and the brisk wind nips at your cheek and nose. You tuck your chin into your woolly scarf and hug the container of treats closer. 

You stifle a yawn. Your exhaustion is well worth the output. You spent most of the night baking. It’s a hobby for you and now that you have your first steady job, you have the funds and the space to do it. And as the newbie in the office, it felt right to add a bit of warmth to the office culture. 

To be honest, you’re trying to fit in. Since you started your desk job, you’ve felt that pressure. It’s all new to you and you feel like every day is a learning experience. Everyone else seems so settled and sure. It’s not like a retail gig where you’re all just trying to get through another day. 

As you get to the front door of the building, your met with a familiar face. Rhodey flicks two fingers in a half-wave and drawls out ‘morning’ as he opens the door for you. You thank him and enter the lobby. 

He trails you along the polished tile and you both stop before the metallic doors of the elevator. He taps the button as you tap one heel impatiently. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. 

“What’s all that?” He asks. 

“Oh, it’s a surprise.” 

“A surprise?” He wonders. 

He’s always nice. He interviewed you and helped you on your first day. He’s too busy for you to run into each other very much, but he’s always pleasant. 

“Yes, you have to wait until you get upstairs to find out.” 

“Oh, maybe I should see if I can beat the elevator,” he kids and looks at the door to the stairs. You chuckle. The doors ahead of you slide apart. “Ah, nevermind, seems like fate is on my side.” 

He gestures you in ahead of him. The ascent is smooth enough. You’re never a fan of the rising sensation that makes you woozy. You step off thankfully, clutching the container firmly to your stomach. 

“Well, I should find my desk,” you say. 

“Hey wait, what about the surprise?” He asks. 

“Oh, yeah, fine,” you face him and slide your arm under the container. You peel the corner of the lid back with your other hand and smile, “apple pastries. Hope you like ‘em.” 

“Homemade?” He asks as he reaches for one. 

“Sure are,” you chime. “I have napkins in my bag but my hands are kinda full.” 

“Nah, I don’t mind a mess,” he sniffs the dessert, “think this will go well with my coffee.” 

“Let me know if you like it,” you smile. 

“Oh, you will know. I might just try to sneak a second,” he says and turns to head off towards the executive offices. 

You shut the container and wade through the desks to your own. You put the container down and strip off the layers of your scarf, gloves, hat, and coat. You finally get yourself set as Marissa shows up. 

“Do you smell cinnamon?” She asks as she wiggles her nose and plunks her insulated cup down. 

“Yes, I do,” you take the lid off and gesture to the container. “Want one?” 

“Hm, apple?” She asks and you nod. “What’s this all about?” 

“I don’t know. I made them so I thought I’d share.” 

“Huh, that’s sweet,” she remarks dryly as you offer her a napkin. “Enjoy that optimism while it lasts.” 

Your cheek twitches. You notice that about the people here. Even if something good happens, they’re suspicious about it. They want to know why or the expect something horrible to follow. 

As more people shuffle in, you offer them a pastry. Everyone seems to like them so far. Yet, you still have lots to go around. 

You get up and Marissa glances over, “any more?” 

“Well, yeah, I was going to go offer them to the managers.” 

“Oh,” she darts her eyes way. “Good luck.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing, just... interrupting for a pastry... kinda... non-productive.” 

“Oh, right,” you pout, “maybe I could just leave them in the breakroom.” 

“Probably a better idea.” 

You’re disappointed. You know the execs rarely go that far. Still, she’s right and she would know better than you. 

You take the container and pass between the other desk. As you pass the hallway to the exec spaces, you nearly collide with someone else. He barely seems to notice until you squeak and save the desserts from spilling. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you eke out as the man struts by only to scuff to a halt.  

He turns back to you, a pinch between his brows and a tick in his cheek. You clamp your mouth shut as his dark eyes penetrate you. It’s him, Mr. Stark, the big boss. You’ve never seen him this close-up. You panic and look around as a hush falls across the office. 

“Would you like one?” You ask out of sheer helplessness. You offer up the container and his eyes slowly descend. His expression doesn’t change. 

To your surprise, he steps closer. He reaches into the container and takes one of the pastries. He examines it then turns away without a word. You stare after him in fear of your livelihood. 

You wait until he’s gone and scurry into the breakroom. You put the container on the counter and catch your breath. Oh gosh. You just blew it, didn’t you? Over something as stupid as desserts. You shouldn’t be handing out treats like Santa Claus, you should be working! 

You put your head down and march out. You go directly back to your desk and sit. You feel eyes on you. Marissa wheels closer. “Told you. Don’t bother the big guys.” 

🍏

The windows are dark as you finally log off. It’s no coincidence that you’re the only one left in the office. It might be futile but you hope the extra work might save you from the fallout of your unfortunate run-in earlier. 

You cross the office floor and dip into the breakroom. You claim the empty container from the counter. You’re happy that your hard work didn’t go to waste, at least. 

You return to your desk and snap the lid on. You gather up your coat and pull on your hat and scarf, leaving your gloves in your pocket. You pack up your bag and sling it on your arm, clutching the container against your hip.  

You push your chair in and turn. You nearly shriek, instead swallowing it to a squeal, as you find someone else standing across the space. You put your hand to your chest and gasp. 

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t hear you,” you gulp. It’s Mr. Stark. Great, you don’t think you’ve done enough to stop the inevitable. 

He comes closer, sliding his hands into his pockets as he approaches. He’s silent as he measures you with a long gaze. The silver at his temples twinkles against the darker strands. He stops at the corner of your desk. 

“You all out?” He nods to the container. 

You flinch, “um, yes, sir.” 

“Too bad. Tasty,” he says. “And that little heart in the pastry... nice touch.” 

“Oh,” you’re surprised by his praise, expecting a full remonstrance. “Thank you. I... I just thought it was cute but, er, sorry, I don’t mean to chatter. I should go.” 

“Yeah, me too,” he says, “another late night.” He clucks and glances around the empty office. “You know, that really... made my day. Not much to look forward around here.” 

Your brows rise and you smile, unsure how to respond. 

“Feel like I owe ya more than a thanks,” his forehead lines as he tilts his head, “and I gotta grab something to eat,” he checks his watch and sighs, “all my meetings went long so could I pay you back?” 

“Uh, sir,” you wonder. 

“You like shawarma?” He intonses. 

“Shawarma?” You repeat, surprised. 

“I know, I know, a guy like me is supposed to live off caviar and fine steaks. You ever just get the craving for something....” he pauses and pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Nasty?” 

You chuckle, “um, sure. I sometimes order fast food.” 

“So? Unless...” he hesitates, “you’re busy? Looks like you’re running behind too.” 

“No, sir, that’s very generous. Um, I... yeah, I could... I could go for shawarma,” you agree, relief flowing over you. You don’t think he’s going to fire you unless it’s a trick. 

“Great, let me just grab my jacket.” 

🍏

Dinner is delicious, though a bit awkward. Your guilt isn’t lessened as Mr. Stark insists on paying for it. You tell him you can handle it but you don’t argue that much. He’s still your boss. 

You pull on your jacket as you leave the restaurant. He holds the door for you. You’re already mentally preparing to tuck into bed. 

“That was nice. If I don’t have some business lunch or dinner, I usually eat alone,” he scoffs as he comes up beside you. 

“Oh? Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

“Just as much as that special treat you made me,” he says. 

“Uh, yeah, well, I like baking--” 

“You know, no one ever offers me stuff like that. They all just get quiet when they see me. Can’t even look at me,” he grumbles. “But you smiled at me.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s... they’re just intimidated, I’m sure. Because you’re so smart,” you say. 

“What about you? You’re not?” He asks as you stop next to his sleek red car. 

“No, I am,” you admit. “I’m the newest person in the office, everyone intimidates me.” 

He looks at you long and hard, “really?” 

“Well, yeah, I’m still learning how to do everything.” 

“Who?” He asks. 

“Who?” 

“Who’s being mean?” He growls. 

“What? No, sir. It’s not—no one’s mean. I didn’t say that.” 

“Because if someone’s messing with you, I’ll happily have a special meeting with them,” his expression darkens. 

“No one,” you avow. “Sorry, I must’ve said it the wrong way.” 

“You did nothing wrong,” he counters. 

“Right, er...” you peer over your shoulder, “I should go catch a bus--” 

“A bus?” He echoes. 

“Sure, it’s almost nine o’clock,” you look at your fitbit. 

“My car’s right here, get in,” he says. 

It’s a command and you’ve pressed your luck far enough. You nod and thank him as he opens the door. You sit in the low seat and hug your bag atop the empty container. He shuts you in and strolls around to the other side. 

As he sits in front of the steering wheel, his cologne clogs your nose. It’s definitely expensive. You squirm in the seat. You’re tired and a bit impatient to be home. You still have to go to the office early tomorrow. 

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes instead. 

“Lease I can do,” he says. “Where do ya live, sweetheart?” 

Sweetheart? The epithet tweaks your ear but you try not react. You worked in retail, a lot of men love that word. You give him your address. 

“Really? All the way over there?” He asks. “Girl like you shouldn’t be done there,” he tuts. 

“It’s not that bad,” you assure him. 

You drag your hand up your cheek, trying to wake yourself up. You’re exhausted. You’re so used to the 9-5 that you’re ready to flop into bed. 

You zone out at the engine hums. The soft motion of the turns lulls you and it isn’t until you’re halfway in the other direction to your apartment that your instinct kicks in. You sit up and look around. 

“Where are you going?” You ask in a panic. 

“I live closer, sweetheart. You can crash at mine,” he says. 

“Your-- no, Mr. Stark, I can’t do that. If you don’t want to drive me, I can get an uber.” You pull on the zipper of your purse and he hits the brakes. You lurch forward as he reaches over and clasps onto your hand. 

“You don’t need to do that,” he says. 

“Mr. Stark?” You babble. “What’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why won’t you take me home?” 

He’s quiet. His eyes fall to his hand and he lets you go. He grips the wheel again but doesn’t go. He sighs and tilts his head back. 

“You gave me that pastry. With the little heart.” 

“I gave them to everyone--” 

“No, but you gave one to me.” He insists. 

“Sir,” you sniff. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. Please don’t fire me.” 

“Fire you--” He turns to look at you, “no, no, no.” 

He fixes his gaze straight ahead and presses on the gas again. He rolls forward and turns down another street. You unzip your purse and once more, he stomps on the brake. You lurch forward and the seat belt digs into your chest as your bag falls onto your feet. 

“Don’t touch that phone,” he snarls. 

“Sir,” you sit back, rubbing where the belt bit into you, “sorry.” 

“It’s just... I can’t see where I’m going with the glare,” he exhales shakily. 

“Okay,” you whimper. 

He drives on. You don’t move. Your heart is racing. You don’t understand what’s going on. 

He enters the nicer neighbourhoods. Where the houses have that modern boxy feel, tall glass windows for walls, and iron gates around trimmed hedges. Their residents spends as much time there as their vacation homes on the next continent. 

He hits a button and steers toward one of the gates as it slides open on a motor. He rolls through as you sink into yourself. This must be his house. You’re still spinning with the suddenness of it all. From the office to dinner to this. One moment stoic and silent, the next smiling and kind, and now... 

As you look at him, his eyes are so dark that the swallow the glow from the dash and the security lights mounted on the house. He shifts into park and kills the engine. You twiddle your fingers and watch him. He reaches over and presses the button on your seat belt. 

You wince and look away as he trails his touch up your arm and to your shoulder. He walks his fingers up over your collar and along you neck. He traces the curve of your jaw as you shiver. 

“You gave me something sweet, baby,” he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “I just wanna return the favour.”  

He leans across the space between your seats and pushes his lips to yours. You murmur and grab onto his wrist. You feel the tendons tense as he squeezes you tighter. His mouth parts from yours and he presses his forehead to yours. You’re locked in his hold, paralysed.  

He hums and licks his lips, “You taste just as good.” 

[eldritch-spouse]

Just when you thought taking a day off from retail when you're sick would be paradise away from the retail hell boys when your door suddenly explodes and the retail hell boys enter your room when they heard you got sick. You can't win.

TW: Reader has a dark mindset, their suffering is not treated seriously.

It's kind of ridiculous that your only respite is sickness, isn't it?

Does it count as self-harm to deliberately let yourself get sick just so you can miss a day or two of work? Does... Does not caring about a twisted ankle that much because you know you won't have to work for a while count as mental illness? If only you could afford a psychologist right now.

What you do know, is that in spite of your physical pain, you haven't felt this at peace in a while. You can even ignore the fact that your pay is getting damaged from this, it's worth it. It's calm.

No weird coworkers, no pressure from a shitty boss, no creepy clients-

CRASH

There's no mistaking it. That was the front door of your rackety little apartment.

Fear has you flatten to the wall of your bedroom, ankle squealing with pain. Deep down, you've always dreaded this would happen since moving to Hell. That some nutjob would just break into your place and butcher you like a pig. Because they feel like it, because some demons are just like that, because humans are easy targets.

Humans are like gazelles to them. And amidst all those grazing bodies, a tired and beaten down one like you is the gazelle with the limp, the one that's getting picked first.

Fucking damn it, you should have bought the domestic defense bat that tall butch tried to sell you when you moved in. You wondered why she was pricing it so high until she revealed it was some kind of hellish beast, as opposed to a barbed wire bat.

As is, you can only grab the bedside lamp and hope, with every fiber of your being, that the thing you're up against has a skull soft enough to allow brain damage.

Hearing hushed voices, your plan is to turn the corner and possibly run outside before you have to hit anyone.

A plan easily thwarted when a meaty hand swipes the bedside lamp right out of your hands.

Alright. You didn't think that far ahead.

" YEAH, THAT'S IT SMALL FRY! " The meathead you've come to recognize as one of the creepy regulars beams. He smashes the bulb out of the lamp, and jams some kind of blade in the hollowed space, using fabric to tie it all together. Is that... Part of your curtains?

" Moz, you ruined the door, you oaf... Isn't that essential to keep the house safe? " The other one, the incubus, points out, feeling the dents left in your wall.

Said wrathful demon pauses to gouge the extent of the damage for several seconds, then waves. " Huh. I'LL DO YA ONE BETTER- WHO NEEDS DOORS?! By the time I'm done, no one will even think of trying to get in. "

Babesley turns around. " Well, she does- Oh! Oh there she is, our tasty workaholic. " The incubus gets a glimpse at your injured limb and gasps. " My sweet hardworking princess, what are you doing out of bed?! Come on, let's go lie down, I'll give you a wonderful massage and you can tell me all about the awful people you work with! "

The awful people being them both, mostly. On a good day.

Babesley has started pulling you along gently, and frankly, you know there's nothing you can do to get them out of your home now, so you might as well just bide your time and see what comes next.

He openly evaluates the state of your room before cautiously helping you lay down, starting to work on your back muscles with surprising competence. You didn't know he was a masseur! Out of spite, you don't allow the shock to show on your face, keeping noises to a minimum.

" Come now, it's no fun if I don't get to hear it. " He huffs. " You're being difficult when we're just trying to keep you safe! Tsk tsk, brats these days. "

" Get- Hnnh- " Oh he popped something ancient in there. The smug brow raise is his display of victory. " Get out of my home. "

" Mhm, not happening. I was thinking of getting a pizza from that cozy nook downtown. "

Pizza does sound good.

You ponder on it to the sounds of Moz breaking your house apart in a nightmare DIY session.

" ... I want the pepperoni one. " It was a moment of weakness. And most importantly, free food.

" Say please. " He sing-songs, clawtips flirting with the fat of your rump through your pajama shorts.

" Cunt. "

" Yes, I bet yours is heavenly. "

Before things can get any more awkward, the other demon bulldozes in with a cup, slapping your ass with a force so great it has you barking every curse under the sun.

" Spit on this, jizzbrains. " He angles the glass at Babes, who easily 'ptoo's in.

You think that one slap just undid all of the incubus' work on your accumulated tension. " What are you even doing? Ruining my house for the fuck of it?! "

" HAH. " Moz grunts. " I'm making it IMPENETRABLE. This here is for a booby trap. IMAGINE DYING WITH A BONER. "

You and Babesley look at him blankly.

" They walk in, right?! They STEP on the plate, they ACTIVATE THE TRAP, THEN BOOM- GET A SPRAY OF THIS NASTY SHIT AND THEN THE FUCKIN' LAMP COMES SWINGING DOWN JAMMING RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES! Either that or the throat... Actually, I need a plan B for a shortstack. "

You decide you'll mourn your furniture later.

" What about the pizza guy? "

" WHAT PIZZA GUY?! "

Babesley waves Moz away, continuing his earlier work above you. " Think about it this way, if it works, we won't have to pay for it. "

You want to go back to work.

[bekaroth-reads]

Stardew Valley Shane x Reader

[based on the fact that most of the time when he asks why you’re bothering him, his avatar is still smiling.]

Pelican Town was a pretty nice place to live. There weren’t too many other people living here, and your farm was far enough from the actual town that you didn’t get to see the other residents too often. But, you did still see them enough that you were friendly with all of them and actually starting to be friends with some of them. Everyone here seemed to be naturally friendly, even if they were on the more quiet side personality-wise.

And, then there was Shane.

He always looked like he was about to keel over any minute, and half of the time that keeling looked to be by choice. Not that you could really blame him seeing as he was working at the Joja Mart. You had worked for that company long enough yourself to know how much of the life it can suck out of someone. Not to mention he was dealing with a retail job, which was difficult to stomach even if it was somewhere other than Joja. Not that there were too many other people outside of Pelican that went there and would treat him poorly. Shane did have the advantage of living in a smaller town so that even if someone had a problem with him, it would be less likely for it to be blown to a large proportion as that would cause a ripple through the whole population; not to mention that everyone respected Marnie too much to ever do something to cause her grief. No, what most people felt about Shane was pity. They all gave him space though and he seemed to like that.

Regardless, you were always sure to at least wave at Shane when you saw him. For the first month or so you would simply wave or maybe give a, “Good morning,” as when you usually saw him as you were passing each other in the town square on mornings you had to stop at Pierre’s. This was usually met with complete silence or an annoyed grunt. It didn’t bother you too much. You weren’t much of a morning person yourself and understood not wanting to have a full conversation that early in the day. Things changed a little bit once the two of you were properly introduced; perhaps not properly, but there was an introduction. You were over checking prices on things with Marnie as you wanted to be sure you could afford everything you needed if you bought some chickens when Shane came walking in from the other room. “Oh, this is my nephew Shane. I’m sure the two of you have seen each other before.” She offered when he didn’t say anything to you. “Oh, we’ve met before.” You offered as an explication to ease the scolding tone that she was giving Shane. “I don’t know you,” was all that Shane said before walking out the door before Marnie could say anything about it.

After that, you would be a bit more forward about talking to him. Nothing too much past what you were already doing, but instead of just, “Good morning,” you would ask, “How are you?” Or, you would even do something as simple as addressing him by name. Shane in turn, evolved from ignoring or grunting at you to talking back. Of course, it was things like, “Why are you talking to me,” or, “I’m busy.” It was still talking though, and when you talked to Marnie about it to make sure you weren’t making him uncomfortable, she first apologized for how curt he was being, but then seemed floored that he even said that much to you. She said the most he ever talked to anyone that wasn’t her or Jas was when he ordered a drink at the pub or when he was forced to give one to two-word answers at work. There was still a feeling that he was a bit out of his comfort zone, but Marnie assured you if there was a real problem you would know about it; that or she would, and seeing as she didn’t want her nephew to be any more unhappy than he already was she would tell you herself.

Things were really changed last night. It was Friday night, and you decided to go to the pub. It would be nice to just relax for an evening and since that was the night that most of everyone else went to the pub as well it would be nice to catch up with some people you hadn’t seen in a while. When you got there, the usual crowd was there as well, some of them waving as you walked in the door. You ended up spending most of the night talking with Leah with Emily popping in from time to time when she wasn’t helping Gus. You noticed Shane standing in a corner by himself. It seemed that Leah saw you glance in that direction, and commented, “Poor guy. Everyone hates to see him feel so down and out all the time. But, there’s not much anyone can do to help him. He’ll choose beer over help anytime.” There was a bit of derision in her voice, but nothing too uncalled for as it did look like he was at least partially doing this to himself. Before the conversation could continue Emily stopped by on her break and started talking about something completely different.

As the night went on more and more people made their way home. Eventually, there was only a fraction of the people left in the bar. This led to you sitting at the bar. And, only a chair away from Shane. The positioning wasn’t planned, simply from you both taking what seats were available at the time and not moving when others opened up. You were drinking your last drink for the night while Shane was halfway through his third tankard of beer. Not that it should have been impressive, but you found it morbidly amazing that he could have had that much and still be as relatively sober as he was; Gus’s tankards were by no means small. You looked at him from the corner of your eye as you took another drink. “Hey,” you greeted and you saw his tense shoulders slump, seeming deflating because you were bothering him. But, with a few drinks in him, Shane found his tongue loosened more than usual.

“Why do you talk to me?” He asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You respond.

This made Shane stop and think for a minute. “It…” he huffed and mumbled so quietly that you almost missed it, “People just don’t.” There was another pause of neither of you talking. Finally, Shane broke the silence again. “Look, if you really want to impress me then buy me another drink.” It surprised everyone, who neither of you noticed were at least glancing at you both frequently because of how odd it was to see Shane out of his corner and talking to someone. It surprised Shane as well when you looked up from your drink and called, “Hey, Gus.” He came walking over, pretending to not have just been talking about the two of you with Emily. You nodded toward Shane and requested, “Get this man a water, if you don’t mind.” Gus did his best to hide a laugh, relieved that he didn’t have to explain to you that he had already cut Shane off for the night. Shane’s face scrunched up moments before he hid it under his hood, and hissed, “Are you serious?”

“Hey, you said a drink. Never said which one.” You chuckle as you catch the glass Gus slid at you. “Besides, you could use it before you walk home.” You gave his shoulder a few pats before standing up to leave. Even though most of his face was covered, you could see the slight twitch of a starting smile threaten to make its way onto his face. You paid Gus and said goodbye to Shane. Everyone sat there like they were witnessing an impossibility when he waved back.

This morning while you were waiting for Pierre’s to open for the day, you saw a certain Joja Mart employee making his way to work. “Good morning, Shane. How are you?” You greeted as he walked by you. He paused a moment like he was thinking about saying something else but eventually grumbled out, “Busy. Why are you talking to me…” as he kept walking past. However, you noticed that little smile start to invade his dower face once again. Maybe Shane didn’t mind you talking to him as much as he acted like he did.

[amiharana]

revalink flower shop x tattoo shop omgg... who runs which shop how do they meet are they competitive with their businesses do they give each other cute things from their shops 👁

god it would work either way, but ultimately i think link would own the tattoo shop and revali would own the flower shop. i only decided it because revali seems like the type to have to do multiple sessions for the tiniest tattoo because his pain tolerance is low for tattoos LMAO bro is sitting there like "it doesn't hurt i swear" meanwhile his face is red and he's sucking in his lips trying not to burst into tears ready to shit his pants, but the needle hasn't even touched his skin yet ✋😭

this au could go in a couple different ways: (1) link and revali hate each other and fight all the time about being the better store (boring!), (2) there's no rivalry and link and revali are mutually interested in each other (better, but a bit ooc i feel), or (3) link moves in and becomes more and more curious as he catches glimpses of his (((attractive))) store-neighbor while secretly hopeless romantic revali is grumpy and annoyed about how off-putting a tattoo shop will look next to his flower shop and there's a very mild one-sided rivalry mentality on his end, but as link tries to get to know revali better, revali thinks, perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. you already know what i'm about to write about rn lmfao.

revali's flower shop "the meadow" has been open on tabantha street for a couple years now. he thinks of himself as a very good florist, probably the best in the entire city of hyrule, and he's actually won a couple floral design competitions??? revali inherited the shop from his parents after they passed and he gets fairly good business, especially because everyone who lives on this street are hopeless romantics who are always buying bouquets for dates or to bring home to their spouses. revali will roll his eyes and scoff lightheartedly to his customers about how mushy it all is (but inside, he wants the same for himself; to go home to someone he loves with a bouquet of flowers. revali wonders sometimes, when he watches customers leave with red roses in hand, if he was meant to ever find love. he looks over at the vase of forget-me-nots on the counter; perhaps, one day).

the retail space next to revali's shop has been empty for a couple years and revali is thinking about expanding into the space when suddenly, the space gets rented out and in moves some blond twink with a fully tatted up arm with his dumb little tattoo shop called "master ink zero" or some shit. revali comes in to work one day only for there to be construction going on in the empty space he's been eyeing for a while, and that cute blond twink is standing in front of it talking to one of the workers. what the fuck. all this construction noise is going to scare revali's soft-hearted hopeless romantic customers away! the blond notices him and holds a hand up to wave a little, but revali just glares and turns away to unlock the door to his shop. he could really let that kid have it, but he holds his tongue because he needs to open the store. (he is kind of cute though... stop it, bad revali!)

the day continues as smoothly as it can with construction noise muffled through one of the shop's walls giving revali a migraine. fortunately, his regulars still come but unfortunately, every single one of them comments on the construction.

"you're going to get a new neighbor!" amali says as revali rings up the regular bouquet for her husband kass. "how exciting! you won't be lonely anymore."

"what a curious mix," muses saki when she enters the shop. "a flower shop and a tattoo parlor next to each other. you know, my teba and i are quite the opposites ourselves and they say opposites attract, so—" and revali flushes, squawking and ushering her out. she only laughs at him and bids him well.

the moment his friend urbosa steps into the store to visit, revali knows that she knows and immediately regrets his entire life. "have you proposed marriage to him yet?" she asks, smirking and sits on the counter.

"get off of my counter, i just wiped that down," revali snipes at her, frowning. "whatever do you mean, propose?"

"to blondie next door," she says, cocking her head to the side towards the construction. revali rolls his eyes but she continues. "he's your type down to a T."

"and he's going to scare off my customers," he replies and returns to spraying his vase of forget-me-nots. "i could care less whether or not he's my type."

urbosa hums. "well he's cute and he seems like a nice kid." suddenly, her gaze shifts into something more serious and revali's shoulders tense. "revali... forgive me if i overstep, but i know you've been alone for a while. you've been running this shop for years, working nonstop. i don't think you've ever had a moment to yourself. it might be nice to take a leap of faith on this one, you know?"

revali reverts his attention back to the forget-me-nots and doesn't say anything else, touching the petals with gentle fingers. urbosa sighs. "just consider it, okay? i care about you and i want you to be happy."

"i know," he murmurs. "i know. i'll think about it. only because you asked me to, though. not because he's my type." urbosa smiles and punches his shoulder lightly, to which revali wrinkles his nose at her. he'll think about it.

somehow, the tattoo shop finishes construction in the next week (that bolson construction company sure is efficient...) and opens. revali should probably go over to congratulate his new neighbor with a bouquet of daffodils and white carnations, but he's already glared them down the first time he saw them. with an oddly uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he keeps to himself in his little flower shop, tending to his vase of forget-me-nots and all his other flowers.

(but just because revali doesn't want to visit doesn't mean that link won't 👁️)

the soft chime of a bell alerts revali that a customer has stepped into the store. "welcome to the meadow," he starts, looking up from his computer to the door, "what can i help you with—?" and the rest of his words are stuck in his throat. there, in the threshold of his store, is the blond twink with the fully tatted arm staring at revali with wide, bright blue eyes.

revali never actually got a good look at him when they saw each other the first time. the blond is wearing a loose green tank top, black leather jeans, and combat boots, and his tatted arm is fully on display, swirling with deliberate strokes of ink. he's quite toned and lean, now that revali has gotten a closer look. definitely not his type. he's not!

"hi," the blond says, his voice as soft as the doorbell. "i'm link. i'm the... owner of the tattoo shop next door." he's got freckles, revali thinks faintly before he can actually process any other words.

"really? i wouldn't have ever known with your entire arm covered in tattoos," he says instead. "perhaps you were actually a receptionist or a dog walker who stumbled upon my humble shop." revali cringes internally after the words leave his mouth; he didn't mean to come off that rude for their first proper interaction. he just wanted to be a little rude.

but link only smiles at him, small but genuine, and a feeling grows in revali's chest that he can't quite name. "i'm not sure i'd be very good at either of those things," he says and steps a little closer to the counter, hands in his pockets.

"and who's to say you're any good at tattooing either?" revali mutters, and he doesn't mean for link to actually hear it, but he does, much to revali's chagrin.

link cocks his head, still smiling. "you could come by and find out," he says, and revali blinks at him. they maintain each other's gaze for a couple moments, link's eyes bright and wide, until revali finally tears his gaze away back to his computer. he can't read a single word on the screen.

"revali," he says instead, still keeping his eyes on the screen. it's almost feels difficult to get the words out. "my name is revali."

"hi revali," link says, leaning against the counter now. "it's nice to meet you." then, he glances up at the clock mounted above revali's head. "i have to get back now, i just wanted to properly introduce myself to you now that we'll be working next door to each other. i hope to see you around." with that, link stands up, bows his head a little, and gives revali another smile before leaving.

(and if revali stared after him and the way those leather jeans hugged his figure quite nicely, no he didn't.)

and that's how it starts 😳 at first i considered having link also keep to his own shop at first, but i don't think that does his "character" justice in the game. if you consider us as players to be equivalent to botw link's character (i.e. how we maneuver link in-game, what dialogue options we choose, etc), then link has this natural curiosity about the world around him and wants to explore and talk to new people. so of COURSE if he sees that his neighbor is hot, he's going to want to come over and say hiiiii *twirls his hair*

revalink shenanigans ensue <3 in the beginning, link would randomly drop by during the week for a minute or two, to say hi and make small talk with revali and at first, revali wouldn't say much eyeing the blond. but his short responses and cold demeanor don't deter link; it seems to spur him on, the blond smiling brightly at him with every greeting and with every goodbye.

one day, link comes in and after he says hello, he starts walking around the store looking at the flowers like he's a customer. revali blinks and watches link walk around, dumbfounded.

"what are you doing?" revali says.

"looking at the flowers," link says. he gently touches the edges of the flowers' petals as he moves between the aisles, the same way that revali treats the flowers. "i want to put some on our reception desk. i think it would look really nice." he stops before a cluster of sunflowers and then looks at revali. "can i get some of these?"

revali faintly notes how well link resembles the bright flowers, before scoffing. "if you're going to get flowers to greet your customers, you might as well put some effort into it!" he snips, crossing his arms. "sunflowers are a good choice, but sunflowers only are bland. here, if you were to add some of these—"

he ends up walking link around the entire adding flowers to the ones in link's hand and talking about the different meanings and nuances of flowers, until the arrangement has become a bouquet of sunflowers, gladiolus flowers, jasmine flowers, and calendulas, surrounded by a bunch of little white chamomiles.

"there," revali says, putting his hands on his hips and puffing up proudly. "now that is a bouquet worthy to greet customers."

"it's very beautiful," link comments. he gazes at the bouquet and touches the flowers with those ever so gentle fingers skirting the edges of the petals. "thank you for helping me put it together. how much does it cost?"

and that stops revali in his tracks, his hands dropping to his sides. he totally forgot that link wanted to get flowers for his own store and came here acting like a customer. "yes, the matter of payment," revali starts, blinking and brain scrambling, "well, then, just think of it as a welcoming gift."

"a welcoming gift?" link echoes, cocking his head at revali with those wide blue eyes.

"yes!" revali says, his face beginning to flush. "because your store is still brand new and i hadn't welcomed you properly either..." revali looks away, feeling his cheeks burn. "it's the least i can do..."

when he looks back at link, that familiar smile has returned to his face, eyes sparkling. "thank you, revali," link says, voice soft. "that's really nice of you." and revali's heart flutters.

"well, of course!" he stammers, willing his face not to burn brighter than it already is. "you're fortunate enough to be neighbors with me, the kindest, most benevolent, and gentlemanly florist in all of hyrule." link smiles brighter at him, holding the flowers to his chest and revali looks away, the pounding in his heart so intense he wonders if it will punch through his ribcage out onto the floor.

link starts coming in on mondays and wednesdays during his lunch break just to talk to revali, and gets him to talk more about the meanings of the flowers and the nuances of different colors, the best way to arrange flowers, etc., link happily listening along. it takes some time for revali to get used to, the sound of their voices filling the usually quiet shop for that sacred half hour but once it's set into place, revali looks forward to it every week (though he'll never admit it out loud).

"don't you eat during a lunch break?" revali comments once, after finishing a spiel about invasive flowers to never plant. link hums questioningly at him. "it's a lunch break. aren't you hungry?"

"oh," link says. "i guess?" and right on cue, a rumble comes from the blond's stomach and he looks up at revali with a sheepish smile. "ahah... i got so caught up talking to you i forgot i had to eat."

revali rolls his eyes, then sighs looking up at the clock. "we still have 20 minutes," he says. "come on, let's go to the cafe."

"cafe?" link repeats, as revali grabs his phone, wallet, and keys. "there's a cafe here?"

"had you paid much more attention to anywhere else but me, you'd have known," revali says, but link still stares at him with his head tilted, waiting for an answer. "one of my regulars, amali, runs the 'birdbath' cafe just down the street. she has an assortment of meals for you to choose from, you can just get one to-go."

they enter the cafe and amali starts greeting them until she realizes it's revali and then realizes it's revali with a guest and she's like IS THIS YOUR NEW NEIGHBOR??? and he's reservedly like Yeah... and now amali is fussing all over link and asking him about how he's settling in, is everything going okay, is revali nice to you, you can come in anytime you'd like! revali is like Pls....... we have 15 minutes until link has to go back to work just give him food girl

link is very excited about the entire menu because everything looks really good. "i'll have to come back here to try everything!" he tells amali and she's ecstatic. "i'm telling you, come back anytime! you're always welcome here," she says warmly.

and when link gets ready to pay, revali brushes him aside and offers his card to amali. amali gives revali a knowing look and accepts the card, but link looks up at him confused. "you don't have to..." he starts.

"i'll pay for you this time," revali mutters, averting his eyes. "i'm the one who dragged you out here after all." and link stares with those huge blue eyes.

"thank you," he says softly. "you're so kind, revali."

"that's our revali!" amali chuckles, handing revali his card back. "he might seem like all high and mighty, but he's really just a softie inside. why do you think he runs a flower shop?"

"amali!" revali gripes, flushing. "please just get link his food." he glances back at link, who's still gazing at him with an expression that revali doesn't know how to read. he looks at revali so softly, so tenderly, and... fond. revali swallows and adjusts his collar. is it hot in here or is it just him?

god this post is already so long but there is so much potential for so many revalink shenanigans in this au 🥺

link coming to get bouquets every week for his own store and learning how to make bouquets with revali

link showing revali his portfolio of tattoos and offering to give revali a tattoo for a discounted price only for revali to decline and link gets sad, until revali quickly says that he's scared of needles and link is like ohhh (but he's still kind of disappointed because he likes the idea of tattooing revali)

link secretly sketching and designing tattoos in his off-time that he think would look really beautiful and fit revali really well. and fantasizing about touching revali's biceps to tattoo him LOL

what if link had a tramp stamp. link with a tattoos on his ribcage and groin. tattoos behind his ear. he shows revali all of these irl in the shop and revali's face is so red he's just like Um. Yes Those Are All Very Nice. Yes. Please Put Your Clothes Back On.

link coming in to buy a bouquet of lilies for zelda and revali goes all tense and upset and is like. is that your gf. and link is like GOD NO that's my twin sister and lilies are her favorite flower and revali relaxes and is like oh. that's nice of you to get her some (but is secretly pleased that link doesn't have a significant other)

urbosa coming to visit the store at a time when link is there on his lunch break, and they get to introduce themselves to each other properly. revali is sitting there sweating the entire time and when link tells urbosa about how he comes here to spend his lunch breaks, urbosa smirks at revali, who's ready to shit himself

(urbosa texting revali later congratulating him on tapping that ass. revali screams at her that he has NOT done that. and she replies with "yet?". he threatens to block her)

everyone else on tabantha street realizing that link and revali are kind of having a Thing™ going on between them. and they all start planning to try to get them together. there's a reason why i have "i won't say i'm in love" from disney's hercules on my revalink playlist because everyone is getting in on Operation: Revalink trying to push revali into asking link out and he's like no nothing is going on between us i swear except he's spends all his breaks and off-time with link, taking him to cafes and paying for everything link orders, sitting in on tattoo sessions because link invites him over, teaching link how to make bouquets... ok so maybe they have something going on, leave me alone saki, i'm not going to ask him out

THIS WILL BE THE LAST SCENARIO I TALK ABOUT bc this post is so damn long now, but i imagine a scene where link asks revali about the vase of flowers on the counter and what kind of flowers they are. revali looks over at the forget-me-nots he's been carefully tending to and inhales, and tells link.

"those are forget-me-nots," revali says, in a voice that's uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable. it makes link sit up, becoming much more attentive to revali's demeanor. "they're perennial hardy flowers that die in the winter but regrow again during the spring. there's an old story about these little ones, where a knight and his lover were walking alongside a river. the knight reached down to pick the flowers that were growing near the river, but his armor was too heavy and he ended up falling in, only to be swept away by the river's current. if you ask me, it's a foolish way to go; why was he wearing such heavy armor anyway? but as he floated away, he threw the flowers he picked to his lover and shouted, 'forget me not!' and the flower was named as such."

revali reaches over to pull the vase closer and places it in between him and link. the flowers are small and delicate little things, a sweet shade of blue with a yellow center. both he and link touch the flowers as they do, with gentle fingers against the edges of the petals.

"these were the flowers that my father offered when he was courting my mother," revali says, gaze faraway. "as you can see, it worked out." he gestures to himself and link smiles. "they're supposed to represent everlasting love, a love so true and strong that it can't be forgotten." he pauses, rubbing a petal in between his fingers before continuing. "i've always wanted to offer a bouquet of these to someone that i love, in the same way my father did for my mother. as sentimental as it is, it's... romantic and meaningful."

"it is," link agrees softly. "whoever you give these flowers to will be very lucky to have someone like you." and revali makes the mistake of looking up to meet link's gaze, because that's where everything about him changes.

when he looks at link, the sun is shining through the windows of the shop, casting a golden glow over the blond. he gazes at revali with those wide blue eyes, the ones that revali has become increasingly enamored with in the time they've spent together, the same color as the forget-me-nots. beautiful, revali thinks and this time he doesn't shy away from the thought because it's true.

then, he takes a flower from the vase and reaches over the counter to slip it behind link's ear, tucking his hair as he goes. link stills, his eyes growing wider and his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink as revali's fingers touch his skin, gentle and featherlight, and for a moment in time, they're the closest they've ever been to each other since they've met. revali could probably count all of the freckles on spread across link's nose and cheeks. in this moment, revali wouldn't mind if they got closer than this. he'd like it a lot, actually.

but he pulls away and sits back down, admiring the way the flower sits prettily behind his ear, contrasting against link's golden hair and tan skin in the sunlight. link is still wide-eyed and pink-faced and it makes revali smile (just a little!). "yes, they'd be very lucky," he murmurs. "blue is definitely your color, by the way. you should wear it more often."

"th-thanks," link whispers, reaching up to touch the flower in his hair. "i'll keep that in mind."

yes, they could be closer than this. revali hopes that one day they could.

[satoshi-mochida]

Yars Rising launches September 10 - Gematsu

Yars Rising will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Switch, PC via Steam and Epic Games Store), and Atari VCS on September 10, publisher Atari and developer WayForward announced. Physical editions will also be available at retail in both standard and deluxe editions for PlayStation 5 and Switch, with pre-orders available now.

Get the latest details below.

The World of Yars Rising

In Yars Rising, players take control of Emi Kimura, a young hacker who’s been hired by a mysterious entity to infiltrate the shadowy Qotech corporation. Run, jump, sneak, and hack your way through challenges and retro-inspired mini-games to unravel layers of intrigue in this vast sci-fi mystery. Embark on Emi’s journey to decipher the mystery of the corporation’s closely guarded secret and uncover her inexplicable bond to a far-off alien race. In true Metroidvania fashion, Emi grows in power throughout her adventure, allowing her to retrace her steps and reach previously inaccessible and secret areas. Her evolving hacking skills are critical to solving stimulating minigames that reference the innovative gameplay from the Atari 2600 title Yars’ Revenge. Emi will also face challenging boss battles at the end of each level, each with its own unique quirks utilizing all of her diverse skills. The all-new gameplay trailer shows off the vivid world of Yars Rising, punctuated by anime-inspired cyberpunk character designs, an energetic soundtrack, and a look at the game’s stealth mechanics and enemy encounters. What starts off as a simple “get in, get out” mission quickly turns into more than what the young hacker Emi bargains for—from blasting robots to dodging lasers, to hacking complex systems and acquiring bio-hacks that grant unexpected abilities.

Key Features

Otherworldly Abilities – Emi must jump, blast, and sneak her way past waves of robotic and alien enemies. Her latent powers are revealed as she progresses, granting her wild augments and biohacks to reach inaccessible areas.

Stealth Traversal – Emi can’t always shoot or jump her way out of a jam — tense sections of stealth gameplay force her to skillfully duck into the shadows to hide from relentless security bots.

Science-Fiction Intrigue – A seemingly bottomless mystery takes Emi from drab office buildings into underground labs, and even to the farthest reaches of space as she uncovers the dark truth behind the Qotech corporation. A sprawling, interconnected map allows for hours upon hours of gameplay.

Genre Bender – A Metroidvania at its core, Yars Rising progresses the story with a series of hacking minigames paying homage to the original Yars’ Revenge, along with other levels and boss battles that take Emi far and beyond her “normal” adventure, like fight scenes and turn-based battles.

[wolfliving]

Self-driving urban taxis finding a market niche here and there, sort of

https://www.cbinsights.com/research/autonomous-vehicle-resurgence-transportation-mobility-opportunities/

Autonomous vehicles are back in the spotlight.

Equity funding to the AV space has tripled to $7.5B this year thanks to Waymo and Wayve (with a combined ~90% of funding).

Below, we highlight 3 key takeaways on the autonomous vehicle landscape.

1) Developers are targeting multiple autonomous driving use cases, with robotaxis in the spotlight

This year’s largest funding recipients are targeting multiple use cases.

Waymo (Alphabet subsidiary) is focused on robotaxis — where it’s seeing commercial momentum. The company is now considering expanding into the personal car use case by licensing its technology. Notably, one area it is not investing in is autonomous trucking, which it exited in 2023.

Wayve formed early partnerships with UK grocery retailers ASDA and Ocado, focused on home delivery of groceries. The company is now pushing deeper into robotaxis, including via a partnership with Uber. Alphabet CEO Sundar Pichai framed Waymo's approach as “multiple paths to market” on the company’s latest earnings call. Waymo hit 150K paid rides per week in October.

2) OEMs are keeping their loss-making self-driving units afloat with fresh capital injections

Despite challenges like safety and delayed commercialization, GM and Hyundai have injected a combined $1.4B into their self-driving units this year.

Tech-native OEMs such as Tesla and BYD are amping up their efforts as well.

Tesla for example is gunning for a robotaxi, although the timing of the Tesla Cybercab launch remains uncertain.

OEMs keep their loss-making self-driving units afloat

3) In China, autonomous driving players IPO at discounted valuations

Chinese autonomous driving companies are leading an exit wave.

Horizon Robotics and WeRide went public in October, and Pony.ai, Momenta, and Minieye all recently filed to do the same.

An AV funding crunch in China (down 90% since 2021) is pushing many of these companies to go public at a discount to their last private valuations.

More broadly, China is also seeing growing adoption of robotaxis.

Baidu‘s Apollo Go service, for example, averaged 75K fully driverless rides per week in Q2’24 (up 26% YoY).

The bottom line

Autonomous driving has arrived gradually, then suddenly.

Robotaxi adoption is pushing some mobility players (like Uber and Lyft) and OEMs to reassess their strategies and recommit after reducing their exposure to the space.

CB Insights customers can dive into implications for transportation leaders in the full brief here....

[foxnangelseo]

Investment Options in India: Diversify Your Portfolio in 2024

Diversification is a fundamental principle of investing, essential for managing risk and optimizing returns. In 2024, as investors navigate an ever-changing economic landscape, diversifying their portfolios becomes even more critical. India, with its vibrant economy, diverse markets, and growth potential, offers a plethora of investment options for both domestic and international investors. In this comprehensive guide, we explore various investment avenues in India in 2024, from traditional options like stocks and real estate to emerging opportunities in startups and alternative assets.

1. Equities: Investing in the Stock Market

Investing in equities remains one of the most popular ways to participate in India's economic growth story. The Indian stock market, represented by indices such as the Nifty 50 and Sensex, offers ample opportunities for investors to capitalize on the country's booming sectors and emerging companies.

- Blue-Chip Stocks: Invest in established companies with a proven track record of performance and stability.

- Mid and Small-Cap Stocks: Explore growth opportunities by investing in mid and small-cap companies with high growth potential.

- Sectoral Funds: Diversify your portfolio by investing in sector-specific mutual funds or exchange-traded funds (ETFs) targeting industries such as technology, healthcare, and finance.

2. Mutual Funds: Professional Fund Management

Mutual funds provide an excellent avenue for investors to access a diversified portfolio managed by professional fund managers. In India, mutual funds offer a range of options catering to different risk profiles and investment objectives.

- Equity Funds: Invest in a diversified portfolio of stocks, including large-cap, mid-cap, and small-cap companies.

- Debt Funds: Generate stable returns by investing in fixed-income securities such as government bonds, corporate bonds, and treasury bills.

- Hybrid Funds: Combine the benefits of equity and debt investments to achieve a balanced risk-return profile.

- Index Funds and ETFs: Track benchmark indices like the Nifty 50 and Sensex at a lower cost compared to actively managed funds.

3. Real Estate: Tangible Assets for Long-Term Growth

Real estate continues to be a popular investment option in India, offering the dual benefits of capital appreciation and rental income. While traditional residential and commercial properties remain attractive, investors can also explore alternative avenues such as real estate investment trusts (REITs) and real estate crowdfunding platforms.

- Residential Properties: Invest in apartments, villas, or plots of land in prime locations with high demand and potential for appreciation.

- Commercial Properties: Generate rental income by investing in office spaces, retail outlets, warehouses, and industrial properties.

- REITs: Gain exposure to a diversified portfolio of income-generating real estate assets without the hassle of direct ownership.

- Real Estate Crowdfunding: Participate in real estate projects through online platforms, pooling funds with other investors to access lucrative opportunities.

4. Startups and Venture Capital: Betting on Innovation and Entrepreneurship

India's startup ecosystem has witnessed exponential growth in recent years, fueled by a wave of innovation, entrepreneurial talent, and supportive government policies. Investing in startups and venture capital funds allows investors to participate in this dynamic ecosystem and potentially earn high returns.

- Angel Investing: Provide early-stage funding to promising startups in exchange for equity ownership, betting on their growth potential.

- Venture Capital Funds: Invest in professionally managed funds that provide capital to startups and emerging companies in exchange for equity stakes.

- Startup Accelerators and Incubators: Partner with organizations that support early-stage startups through mentorship, networking, and access to resources.

5. Alternative Assets: Diversification Beyond Traditional Investments

In addition to stocks, bonds, and real estate, investors can diversify their portfolios further by allocating capital to alternative assets. These assets offer unique risk-return profiles and can act as a hedge against market volatility.

- Gold and Precious Metals: Hedge against inflation and currency fluctuations by investing in physical gold, gold ETFs, or gold savings funds.

- Commodities: Gain exposure to commodities such as crude oil, natural gas, metals, and agricultural products through commodity futures and exchange-traded funds.

- Cryptocurrencies: Explore the emerging asset class of digital currencies like Bitcoin, Ethereum, and others, which offer the potential for high returns but come with higher volatility and risk.

Conclusion

Diversifying your investment portfolio is essential for mitigating risk, maximizing returns, and achieving long-term financial goals. In 2024, India offers a myriad of investment options across various asset classes, catering to the preferences and risk profiles of different investors.

Whether you prefer the stability of blue-chip stocks, the growth potential of startups, or the tangible assets of real estate, India provides ample opportunities to diversify your portfolio and capitalize on the country's economic growth story. By carefully assessing your investment objectives, risk tolerance, and time horizon, you can construct a well-diversified portfolio that withstands market fluctuations and delivers sustainable returns in the years to come.

This post was originally published on: Foxnangel

[noidacommercial9]

Wave One Noida Sector 18 Office Space at Best Price List

Wave One Noida Sector 18 Office Space at Best Price List

Wave One Noida Sector 18 Commercial project is an excellent mission to invest in. The venture site is simple to commute via street and gives connectivity to the one-of-a-kind elements of Delhi/NCR i.E. Gurgaon, Greater Noida, Delhi, and different sectors in Noida via avenue. Moreover, zone-18 Noida is also prepared with local stores and has a totally industrial surroundings that facilitates…

[fancoloredglasses]

[RERUN] Crisis on Infinite Earths, issue 3: “Oblivion Upon Us” (The Purge: Multiverse Edition)

PREVIOUSLY ON…

The Multiverse is disintegrating at an alarming rate, being heralded by a being known as Pariah. A being known as the Monitor and his assistant Harbinger have gathered 15 super beings from across the multiverse to guard 5 pillars that he says will save what’s left. Meanwhile, he has gathered the last survivor of Earth-3 (Alexander Luthor, who went from infant to adolescent in a matter of hours), making 4 of 6 characters made specifically for the series accounted for.

The fifth we have heard as he shanghai'd one of the Monitor’s champions (Psycho Pirate) and has compromised Harbinger.

Meanwhile, Pariah has appeared on Earth-1 as the wave of white that spelled the doom of so many universes approaches.

Caught up? Good, cuz the cast is about to more than triple in size (and is only going to get bigger as the series progresses). If you would like to read this issue, it (along with the rest of the series) has been collected in graphic novel form and is available (or can be ordered) at your favorite comic shop, bookstore, or online retailer…or on Read Comic Online.

[I want to note that I’m not going to explain who everyone that appears is unless they’re important to the plot. There are just too many and I’d like to finish this before the next DC Cinematic reboot begins]

That all being said, let’s continue…

The Monitor studies Alexander Luthor (still rapidly aging, now a teen) Alex is composed of matter and antimatter (and didn’t explode? Someone tell Mr. Scott that ye can change the laws of physics!)

…no doubt due to his journey from Earth-3 to Earth-1. Harbinger slips away to inform the Big Bad. Psycho-Pirate tells him that Harbinger’s loyalties are conflicted and offers to use his powers to fix that. The Big Bad refuses, saying that Harbinger will eventually do his bidding and kill the Monitor.

We then visit the 30th century, where the Flash has been living after being framed for murder (long story that I’m not telling now). He sees the wall of white that’s threatening the universe and decided to return to his own time to warn everyone (not sure what good that will do)

…but as Batman, the Outsiders, and the Teen Titans witness the Flash’s return, he is enveloped in a strange energy and teleported away.

For whatever reason, we switch to the cybernetic super villain Brainiac, who is in space and sees the wave of white. That’s it. Kinda pointless, actually.

Next we go to Markovia during WW2 (I’m assuming Earth-1, as Sgt. Rock’s Easy Company is among those in attendance) Blue Beetle’s trying to guard the pillar while Dr. Polaris and (Markovian native) Geo-Force are busy fighting Nazis. (Geo-Force because he feels obligated to defend his homeland over 20 years before he was born, and Dr. Polaris because it means he can murder people and no one will care) Easy Company and the Losers (the WW2 strike team, not the guys in the 2010 movie) investigate the pillar…

…but the wave of white comes in and envelops the Losers, disintegrating them! Then come the shadows. They take out Easy Company’s “Flower” (I don’t know his actual name as I never read any Sgt. Rock comics)

…and attempt to do so to Blue Beetle, but Beetle’s mystical scarab (why a tech hero has a mystical artifact, I don’t know) saves him, but his shoulder is trashed.  Monitor sends him home (that’s two down, including Psycho Pirate)

Meanwhile, at the Planet of the Apes Great Disaster, Solovar has been injured enough to be sent home as well (make that three)

We now switch to the fourth pillar in Earth-1′s Old West (why aren’t there pillars on any other Earth?), where we see the heroes from DC’s western titles: Bat Lash (no relation), Jonah Hex, Johnny Thunder, Scalphunter, and Nighthawk. Joining them are Psimon, Cyborg, Green Lantern John Stewart, and Firebrand. The shadows arrive shortly after, and John’s ring dies due to the Central battery going kaboom back in issue 2.

Nighthawk retreats, only to run into the white wave.

Meanwhile, at the Monitor’s satellite, the Monitor is ready to start Phase 2 of his plan.

…just in time for Harbinger to kill him!

WILL the Monitor’s machines save the rest of the multiverse?

WHO is the being behind this multiversal massacre?

WHY are the machines only on Earth-1? ARE the other universes not important to the writers?

These questions and more will be answered in the next issue!

[hierba-picante]

A bit of a vent below heheeee- nothing major just work stuff grrr

Trader Joe's dropped some mini canvas tote bags- which-- don't get me wrong they're cute! I have one cause an employee saved me and my coworkers one each! But... these people stood in line for HOURS to get 4 bags, the limit was 4. For a small 2.99 tote bag. AN ELDERLY WOMAN COULDN'T GET BY- SHE WAS IN ONE OF THOSE MOTORIZED WHEELCHAIRS- SHE HAD TO DO A U TURN AND TRY A DIFFERENT ROUTE!! CAUSE PEOPLE IN LINE WERE BEING DUMBASSES AND NOT MAKING WAY FOR ANYBODY!! OVER A TOTE BAG???? I work right next door to a trader joes- and these people didn't make space for my store or other retailers?? They blocked off all of our doors>:0- The store I work at is a pet store- so some people left with big bags of food! But nope! Had to go all the way around!!! Some workers couldnt even take their lunch in peace cause this stupid bitch ass customers YOINKED the chairs from the outside tables!! To sit in while waiting for the TOTE BAGS!!!!! CAUSE OF A FUCKING TOTE BAG!!!! WE HAD SIGNS UP TO LEAVE A GAP FOR OUR DOORS- SO CUSTOMERS COULD PASS THROUGH- AND MY MANAGER KEPT TELLING THEM TO LEAVE A SPACE FREE FOR THAT REASON- BUT NOBODY FUCKINGNSJAJCNDIZJC LISTEEEENNNEDD :'[

I did grab mine before they released it to the public tho-- and I waved that bag around once I was back inside at the store I work at. I popped open that paper trader joes bag and waved THE TINY ASS TOTE BAG AROUND-- though I'm not that brave and had my back turned-- IT WAS SATISFYING TO WAVE IT AROUND WHILE PEOPLE STOOD IN LINE WAITING FOR THEIR'S- AND TO JUST TURN BACK AND WATCH THEM DO A DEEP HEAVY SIGH BE ALL IRRITATED- AUGH MADE MY DAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!! >:D

[undress-baby]

Exploring the Capabilities of Clothes Remover AI in Modern Fashion

The fashion industry has always been at the forefront of innovation, constantly adapting to new technologies to enhance design, production, and marketing. One of the latest advancements making waves is Clothes Remover AI, a technology that’s transforming the way we interact with fashion digitally. This tool has sparked significant interest, especially in the realms of virtual fitting rooms and digital fashion design.

What is Clothes Remover AI?

Clothes Remover AI is an artificial intelligence-based tool designed to digitally remove clothing from images. While the concept may sound controversial, its applications in the fashion industry are quite practical and forward-thinking. This technology allows designers, retailers, and consumers to visualize clothing fits and styles on digital models without the need for physical prototypes. Essentially, it helps in digitally removing one layer of clothing to visualize another, aiding in mix-and-match scenarios or virtual fittings.

The Role of Clothes Remove Technology in Fashion

The ability to remove clothes digitally has significant implications for the fashion industry. For designers, this technology allows for more efficient prototype creation. Instead of producing multiple physical samples, designers can now create and test their ideas in a digital space. This not only speeds up the design process but also reduces waste, making fashion more sustainable.

Retailers are also leveraging Clothes Remover AI to enhance the online shopping experience. Virtual fitting rooms powered by this technology allow customers to try on clothes digitally before making a purchase. This reduces the number of returns due to incorrect sizing or dissatisfaction with the fit, saving both the retailer and the customer time and money.

Ethical Considerations

Despite its benefits, the use of Clothes Remove AI raises ethical concerns. It’s crucial that this technology is used responsibly, with strict guidelines to ensure it’s not exploited for inappropriate or non-consensual purposes. The fashion industry must lead the way in setting these standards to ensure that technology enhances, rather than harms, the user experience.

Conclusion

Clothes Remover AI is revolutionizing the fashion industry by making design processes more efficient and shopping experiences more immersive. As this technology continues to evolve, it will be exciting to see how it further shapes the future of fashion, provided it is used ethically and responsibly.

[rnoonpie]

For almost a month, I've been working retail for the first time as an electronics department sales assistant in a popular bulk warehouse chain. I was so afraid I was going to hate it, that customers were going to make me lose my faith in humanity, that children were gonna be unbearable.

But I don't. They didn't, they aren't.

I love meeting people and talking to people and I love knowing about the products I help sell. I love helping a customer figure out what's best for their needs, not just directing them to the biggest and flashiest, most expensive phones or laptops.

But most surprising to me, I think, is a reminder that I do really get along with children and love talking to them, even little babies. They're so funny and just make me smile. I love little babies in carriers with stout little fat frog legs dangling in the air, with so much fat on their faces they look like a bulldog when they close their eyes. I love the ones who don't have enough hair to style but they've got one little tuft sticking straight up in a bow anyway. I love waving to the ones who stare very intently while they're figuring out how their eyes work.

But most of all, I think I really love getting to be someone I never had for me in public spaces as a child, and that's treating them like a customer just as much as their parents, asking them what they're looking for, if they have any questions.

The transformation is so complete every time. I see how braced they are for an adult approaching them while they're using the display iPads, expecting to be scolded or told to leave it alone. But when I ask with a smile how they're doing and if they're looking for anything in particular, if they have any questions, they transform into such excited and curious things.

"Um! Um, I was wondering, um, what the difference is between the iPad Pro and the others!" this little girl said nervously, her voice high and thin.

So I told her, in simpler terms, but with the same cadence I would have used with her mother.

"So the Pro line tends to have a better processor, which means it's going to be able to handle a lot more apps at the same time. They're really good for games and I know a lot of artists who like to use this app here — " I tapped the demo Procreate icon and opened it up " — to make art! The Pro also has a very clear and bright screen with a pretty huge amount of colours it can display, which is why a lot of artists like it so much. So the Pro does all these things more efficiently than the other iPads do."

Her eyes were enormous. "That's so cool," she whispered in breathless awe. "That's so cool."

"Isn't it?" I agreed. "This stuff amazes me every day."

Her parents came and collected her not long after that and apologised for the trouble.

"Not at all," I said in deep surprise.

Like her parents were afraid their child's mere presence was annoying or bothersome to employees? Like… nah, man. Kids want to know what the electronics can do, too. They're just people learning how to people.

Adults are the ones who annoy me on a daily basis more than children. You know who love to connect to our demo Bluetooth speakers to blast rude music as loudly as they can? Grown ass men, every single time, without fail.

Children are generally very reserved and polite when they need my help with something, saying "excuse me".

It was another grown ass man who saw me counting inventory, decided it would be hilarious to go "forty-nine, twenty-two, eighty-six…" as he passed by.

The stare that I gave him must have been completely dead-eyed because he immediately flushed and mumbled an apology before hurrying away.

But, as a disclaimer, that's not to say that all the adult men who come into the store are annoying or rude. In fact, the vast majority of them are lively and polite and friendly! Even the ones that fuck around with the speakers haven't given me direct trouble (I deal with the speaker issue by just muting it via the laptop it's actually connected to) and no one has ever been overtly aggressive or abusive to me.

I know it's only been a month. I know that getting a Karen is going to be inevitable — people will always be people, after all — but I know that, broadly, people are good and I love them. I love watching them and talking to them, of all ages, gender, background.

People are fundamentally good.

[autisticsupervillain]

Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, to Stats Equalized!

The show where we equalize strength, speed, and durability to decide who would win a battle of hax, skill, and versatility.

This Month's Fighters...

Isaac Clarke vs Jacob Lee!

Conditions:

No Restrictions.

Jackb has his Final Transmission weapons

Scenario:

The illegal cargo that Jacob was smuggling to Callisto included detailed instructions on how to construct a Necromorph Marker. This results in Isaac tracking him to Black Iron prison to kill him and destroy the Marker's instructions.

Analysis: Isaac

I feel like every job becomes a lot cooler when you do them in Space. Tax Accountant... IN SPACE! Retail Worker... IN SPACE! Maintenance Engineer... IN SPACE! Sure, there's an increased chance that you might get devoured by a bloodthirsty hive mind that's hellbent on devouring all life in the galaxy, but for some unlucky space engineers, that's just an occupational hazard.

Meet Isaac Clarke, a lowly systems engineer employeed by the Concordance Extraction Corporation who gets called in to repair the "planet cracker" USG Ishimura when they send out a distress signal. Rather than, say, a broken antenna or an overloaded reactor core, the Ishimura has come down with a rather more unusual case of man eating space monsters.

Meet the Necromorphs, undead hive mind abominations intent on devouring, assimilating, or just out right killing all life that isn't them. They're none too picky with how they kill you and none too picky with what you do to them. They just don't die no matter what you do to them. Blow their heads off, cut them in half, pump them full of lead, it doesn’t matter. They will rush you down with zero hesitation regardless. And what's worse that they can get humans to do their job for them, using their "Markers" to not only organize the Necromorphs like one organize, but also corrupt the minds of humans into forming an cult around the Necromorphs, serving the Marker's whims.

Luckily for Isaac, he's a bit of a master of improvised weaponry, meaning he has all the tools he needs to clear these Markers out. Firstly, he's decked out head to toe in a fancy RIG suit. This Resource Integration Gear comes equipped with all the tools necessary to help its user survive on the job hazards, even if Space Aliens probably weren't what the makers had in mind for it. His RIG suit can vacuum seal when exposed to suboptimal breathing conditions, be that poisonous gas or the vacuum of space, forcing Isaac to rely on an internal oxygen supply. However, this supply is limited and only lasts for about a minute and a half. Furthermore, his RIG is equipped with thrusters that allow to freely fly around in zero g or low g environments like Iron Man.... IN SPACE! ...Ahem. Sorry. I'll stop.

Furthermore, his suit can come equipped with several Modules that can modify its performance and abilities. The Kinesis Module can allow him to telekinetically lift and throw heavy objects from several meters away with just the wave of his hand, while the Stasis Module temporarily slows down time for whatever object he waves his hand at, allowing him to dodge super fast projectiles, freeze enemies in place, or catch Necromorphs that are glitching through time thanks to their damages Stasis RIGs.

In terms of fire arms, Isaac has fire power to spare. His improvised plasma cutter, original designed to cut up large boulders, is equipped with a rotating blade, allowing for long horizontal and diagonal shots that are just perfect for cutting the limbs off Necromorphs. Even if you can't kill them, they can't chase you down without limbs.

The pulse rifle is a powerful motorized gun with a secondary fire the shoots bullets in a 360 degree radius, while the Disc Ripper shoots out a powerful romote control buzz saw that cuts through anything in its path, with a secondary fire that makes the spinning blades bounce all over the damn place. The torch flame thrower spews out fire that burns at 4000 degrees Celsius with a secondary fire that shoots a big napalm grenade, while the Cutter Line Gun is a more powerful Plasma Cutter that shoots out landmines with its secondary fire.

The contact beam is an energy jackhammer meant to blast apart rock that can create shockwaves across the ground to dispatch swarms. The Javelin Gun fires electric titanium spikes that can explode, the Seeker Rifle is a futuristic sniper rifle, and the Force Gun obliterates everything in front of it by firing pure kinetic energy. Finally, the Hand Cannon is a large foam sports hand that kills everything Isaac points at with it. Without exception.

Isaac in an experienced technological genius, capable of throwing together a good chunk of his weapons by himself on the spot. Hell, he's smart enough to build a Marker on his own... while under a Marker's mind control, granted, but still. You can't really hold that against him. As time gas gone on, Isaac has grown more and more resilient to the influence of Markers, capable of resisting their control and effects through sheer will power alone. This is impressive when you realize the Marker's mind control is collectively powerful to formulate one of the most dominant and wide spread religions in human history, with a mental influence that can span planets or even the entire solar system. Moreover, Isaac's suit is resilient against extreme temperatures, radiation, and acid and can pump him full of stimulants to keep him from being drugged unconscious.

One man, one lowly engineer has done what an entire army could not and, by himself, destroyed three Markers over the course of his life. Hell, those first two might as well have happened the exact same day from his perspective. Isaac Clarke, ladies and gentlemen. The man the dead fear.

Analysis: Jacob

Space. The Final Frontier. A place only fit to be explored when all other options are exhausted. When the Earth has no more life left in it and humanity has no other place to go. It is a hellish, lifeless void incapable of even carrying your screams. It is the graveyard of the universe and in no other world is this fact more apparent than the hellish world.... of PUBG.

....What's that? That got retconned? The Callisto Protocol isn't canon to PUBG anymore? Fuck. Alright, fine. In no other universe is this fact more apparent than the hellish world of The Callisto Protocol.

Humanity is struggling to survive in space after all other options have been extinguished and Earth's resources have been used up. Without the means to leave the solar system, crime and poverty are rampant across human society, forcing down on his luck space trader Jacob Lee to turn to some ethically questionable lines of work. He strikes up a deal with the United Jupiter Company to smuggle some illegal cargo to Jupiter's moon Callisto. This results in him getting hijacked by The Outer Way, a terrorist group fighting against the UJC, which then results in him crash landing on Callisto. This gets him thrown into the supermax prison Black Iron for illegal smuggling.

Thankfully, he isn't there long, as a riot begins not long after he's thrown into his cell. Unfortunately, the riot was caused by a zombie outbreak. The warden had discovered a super virus called the Biophage deep within Callisto and, believing it's adaptive properties would allow humans to better survive in space, unleashed the virus on all the inmates and ordered the security drones to kill everyone as a way of testing it. Now, Jacob must desperately fight for his survival in a prison where everyone and everything wants him dead.

Luckily, he stumbles across quite a few useful gadgets while on his way out. His armored space suit allows him survive the hellish conditions of Callisto's surface, where the temperatures can get as low as -139.2 C°. His prison shiv, crowbar, and electric stun baton allow him to pummel the infected up close, even against monsters strong enough to rip off heads, crush skulls, and rip human beings in half. Final Transmission gives him the Kinetic Hanmer, a massive hammer that can store and charge up kinetic energy to make his swings hit even harder. His Hand Cannon is a nifty side arm with an alt fire that fires explosive rounds, while his tactical pistol comes with a burst fire mode. His skunk gun shotgun fires homing rounds, his riot gun shotgun fires explosive rounds, and his assault rife fires smart bullets, advanced homing rounds that can maneuvers themselves around obstacles while tracking down their targets. And each of these guns is powerful enough to pierce the metal alloy of Black Iron's security drones, who are strong enough to effortlessly rip the titanium doors off spaceships. But Jacob's most advanced weapon is his Gravity Restraint Projector, a drvice on his arm that manipulates gravity to allow Jacob to effortlessly lift heavy objects and even people. He can throw you off a cliff or into a wall of spikes with just a wave of his hand.

His arsenal isn't entire good, though. Jacob suffers from what I like to call Gordon Freeman Syndrome, where his perfectly serviceable space suit and armor doesn't have a helmet. Only Jacob's is worse because he DID have a perfectly good helmet, he just took it off for no reason. And secondly, there's the CORE device strapped into the back of his neck. While it does monitor the health status of all prisoners at Black Iron and make him compatible with their Health Injectors, which Jacob can use to rececitate himself even while his heart is stopping, it also exists to monitor his memories. Meaning Jacob is frequently getting flashbacks and suffering from severe hallucinations as a result of his CORE device fucking with his head.

Despite all of that, Jacob is still a survivor. Even as the Biophage zombies evolved to match his tactics, Jacob powered through. Sneaking past blind zombies who had developed echo location and shooting out the weak spots of Zombies who grew hardened skin to resist his bludgeoning. For better and for worse, he's willing to do whatever he has to ensure his own safety. To the point that the breakout at Black Iron was actually his fault, as the illegal cargo he was carrying for the UJC turned out to be the Biophage pathogen. Realizing that he's indirectly killed thousands in his selfishness, Jacob works to undo the harm he's done, working with The Outer Way to reveal the Warden's corruption and ultimately giving his life to ensure the solar system knows about all that happened at Black Iron.

Throwdown Theme:

Throwdown Breakdown:

What's interesting about the dynamic of this matchup is that their advantages are flipped relative to their gameplay. The gameplay of Dead Space prioritizes keeping your distance and carving Necromorphs to bits before they get you, but here Issac's wide variety of weapons gives him an edge in close quarters combat. Jacob has no counter to something like the flamethrower up close and melee range would make it easier for Isaac to land Stasis on him for an easy win. Meanwhile, the gameplay of Callisto focuses strongly on melee combat, while here Jacob's guns give him an advantage over Clarke at a distance. Especially with homing bullets. And, of course, both have what is essentially sci-fi telekinesis.

However, Issac has a few distinct advantages here that make this his game. While Jacob's weapons are better suited to ranged combat, Issac's wider variety of weapons gives him a lot of answers to Jacob's tricks, leaving Lee struggling to adapt. The Disc Ripper and the Plasma Cutter's give Isaac a control over the environment that Jacob would struggle to adapt to, while the Pulse Rifle's secondary fire makes getting near him a death sentence. And Isaac's just plain and simply smarter and more experienced, with three games of monster killing under his belt to fall back. Jacob is determined, but Isaac's been pushed past the point of madness more than once, and most of his arsenal is stuff he's made himself. Isaac would almost certainly understand how stuff like the Kinetic Hammer works just by seeing Jacob charge it up.

Jacob is a tough bastard to kill, but against someone who's just as tough to out down, but much smarter and more versatile than he is, he can only do so much.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Isaac Clarke!