#dee piping systems
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Sectors Covered by DEE Piping Systems
Piping solutions find extensive applications in various industries. From fertilizer manufacturing plants to marine projects, from petrochemical refineries to oil and gas units, these pipelines form the foundation of all operations. Here is a list of industries that find DEE’s piping solutions extremely useful for critical and sensitive environments as well.
Oil And Gas
Oil and gas piping is one of the most critical piping solutions that undergo several hazards. Much like Power plant piping, these piping solutions also need to withstand high levels of pressure, heat, and friction.
When highly viscous crude petroleum travels through the pipelines of oil and gas plants, the friction it creates remains one of the challenges to the piping system’s structural stability. Additionally, petroleum or gas corrodes the pipe surface. Therefore, DEE manufactures suitable piping solutions for power plants and oil and gas units using ASMEB31. 1 or ASMEB31.3 grades as approved by IBR. Carbon steel, alloy steel, and Stainless steel remain the three most widely used materials for manufacturing critical piping.
Refineries And Petrochemicals
The refinery and petrochemical piping solutions also require pipelines capable of handling high-
pressure and high-heat conditions. Therefore, DEE uses only the best quality alloy steel or carbon steel material of appropriate grade (ASMEB31. 3) for these solutions. Process or jacketed piping remains the most widely chosen piping solution design for these industries. High temperature and high-pressure piping associated with CDU, VDU, DCU, HCU, SRU, PFCC, FCCU, CRU, VGO, DHT, DHDS, MS Block etc. are an essential product feature at DEE.
Bio Refineries
Bio Refineries are places where biomass gets transformed into energy and other useful products. To support sustainability campaigns and to promote balanced industrial development without harming the surroundings, these plants play a critical role. Process Piping in the various grades of Carbon Steel, Alloy Steel, Stainless Steel & Exotic Material with diameter up to 100” (2540 mm) and thickness up to 150 mm. are DEE Piping system forte.
Bio-refineries piping also needs to be corrosion-resistant and heat withstanding. DEE makes sure that every piping solution installed in biorefineries features accurate bends and the best materials so that the process could run smoothly.
Fertilizers And Chemicals
The fertilizer and chemical piping is another variety of piping solution that requires additional attention. Fertilizers are essentially chemicals carrying several elements of varying degrees of Reactivity. Therefore, when these fertilizers pass through a certain pipeline for years, corrosion does take place.
However, replacing these pipes frequently or repairing them every year could be an excessively
expensive endeavor. DEE manufactures the best quality piping solutions that meet the special requirements of fertilizer and chemical manufacturing plants.
Marine and Offshore
Marine and offshore projects also use a lot of marine and offshore piping solutions. DEE keeps the quality standards of these piping solutions in mind while manufacturing them. From maintaining strict quality control to using industry-approved material grades for making these pipelines, DEE’s piping solutions remain the perfect choice for sensitive applications like these.
Subsea Projects
When it comes to subsea piping, the pipelines remain submerged in seawater for years. Saline water exposure may corrode the pipeline surface faster making it weaker and unusable over time. Therefore, DEE manufactures premium quality piping solutions that can withstand extreme
conditions without succumbing to corrosion.
DEE Piping Systems is a renowned name in the field of industrial piping manufacturing and supply, holding a vast global experience in the field for the past 4 decades. Check the exhaustive collection online, including customizable options. You will always find something up to your requirement and budget there.
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DEE piping systems Mass Recruitment of "DET" for our plant/site located at Gujarat,
DEE piping systems is an ISO certified oil & gas pipe, heavy metal fabrication and skid manufacturing company. DEE Piping Systems (DEE), incorporated as DEE Development Engineers Limited was founded by Chairman & Managing Director Mr. K.L. Bansal along with a team of two technocrats in the year 1983. DEE, in the past three decades, driven by leaders with a bold and strong entrepreneurial vision,…
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okay. i said i was gonna do it. may as well get it out of the way on the appropriate day
some weed headcanons for the gang.
i dont think dennis is a fan of pipes and bongs. he prefers joints, or just straight up edibles. pipes and bongs require so much maintenance, and he already smokes tobacco, i dont think this is much of a stretch. best joint roller of the group but he takes forever to do it because he focuses on making it perfect
mac, on the other hand, is a massive fan of bongs. he definitely names them n everything. hes got a couple funny pipes too, some themed ones (hes definitely got a pipe thats themed around the eagles and a usa flag pipe. at least. hes definitely got more). he gets really into the grinding and packing process. cant roll a joint to save his life
dee prefers joints and pipes. i think she tried a volcano once and has begged frank for one every day of her life since. i can see her being a fan of infused drinks, too. she is a woman on the go who needs to put em back after all. she would also probably be big on vapes, she'd be convinced theyre better for her than smoking straight green
frank has giant fucked up bongs and just about every niche/bizarre way of getting weed into your system that you can think of. he doesnt let dee touch the volcano. hes got those 750mg edibles and goes through one of those containers in like a week. hes the best at actually getting joints rolled in any reasonable amount of time
joyce doesnt really get high off weed with frank much i dont think. all the crazy wild shit is fun but not really the experience she goes for. shes good just passing a bong or pipe or joint back and forth between herself and her friends. i feel like she'd be one of those people who puts a lot of emphasis on the experience of smoking weed with people. she can do any ol drug to get high but passing a bong back and forth with your best friend is pretty hard to replicate. this is also because thats how she does smoke breaks with dee
lastly, mac, dee, and frank prefer sativa while dennis and joyce prefer indica. hybrids become a grey area for a lot of them but i dont think their preferences mean they dislike the high of the other. i just imagine theyd each do best with what i said
happy 4/20. peace and love on planet earth
#it's always sunny in philadelphia#its always sunny in philadelphia#mac mcdonald#dennis reynolds#charlie kelly#dee reynolds#frank reynolds#joyce kelly#sweet dee#sweet dee reynolds#iasip
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I really struggle with the idea that any criticism of Dee Devlin is automatically misogynistic. Funny how this grace always seems to be reserved exclusively for white women. White feminism stays undefeated at using “feminism” as a shield to dodge valid criticism.
And let’s be real, as a white woman myself, we have a history—and a present—of throwing people under the bus to preserve our own comfort and privilege. Case in point: Taylor Swift. Silent on Palestinian women, loud as hell when it’s about jokes on a skit comedy show. The priorities are... something else.
I guess it’s no surprise that actual feminist activists get buried under cutesy graphics shouting “Live Deliciously.” Like, excuse me ma’am, but there’s a cost of living crisis and multiple genocides happening—over 100 women have killed themselves in Sudan to avoid sexual violence in the conflict. Maybe pipe the fuck down with the slogans about embracing pink and dancing in your pants as the solution to patriarchy. Or better yet, stop pretending it goes any deeper than self-posturing for white, middle-class women.
And then there’s Conor McGregor. A vile man flourishing in a system that rewards evil, because accountability is practically extinct. £200,000 means nothing to a guy like him. Why would he care? He’s living his best “poundland gangster” life, fueled by cocaine and the knowledge that the mother of his children doesn’t seem to care either. It’s the perfect setup for unchecked awfulness.
Maybe I’m just angry—angry at how women’s safety is sacrificed for this charade of justice, angry at how predators thrive while their enablers look the other way. But I hate every single person who supports rapists. Every. Single. One.
#dee devlin#conor mcgregor#feminism#white feminism#florence given#lmfao no but really#violence against women
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CJ wouldn't think anything of the messy crescent shaped scarring on his arm because he already has so many other scars just from living in the apocalypse, but he would sometimes trace it when Leo isn't looking. Not necessarily because he's upset or the permanent mark is upsetting but because the memories associated with it are... concerning to him. He'd never seen his steadfast and composed teacher react in such a way, and the realization that his confident and level headedness in the heat of disaster wasn't always the case was troubling to him.
Troubled hin enough, he was certain he would have lost the infamous temper he'd inherited from his adopted parents if not for Leo's freakout.
He also can't help but wonder if the reason Master Leonardo had hidden himself away the way he had when Dr. Dee had died had actually been to hide a similar breakdown that his younger self had just from being temporarily separated from his twin.
Yes! I could see that being a thing.
And just imagine Future Leon, trying his best not to breakdown in front of the resistance when Dee dies. He's their leader, one of the few they had left, he couldn't give them reason to doubt him.
But Dee just died. For real this time. He's not coming back. And suddenly he feels like he's four again, watching his twin fall through a glowing hole in the ground. And he cant handle it. So he leaves, gets himself lost in what remains of the sewer systems before anyone can ask him why.
It's three days before Mikey finds him in a broken down section of pipe that had been his old echo chamber. It's unclear if it was broken when he got there or if he had helped it along. Mikey brings him back home, Leon's hand raw and voice little more than a faint scratchy mess. He doesn't ask what happened, just quietly patches the wounds and lets leon be. Because what else can he do? the only thing that would fix this was for Dee to come back, but that would only be possible with time travel, something Draxum had specifically stated that he should not mess with unless it was the end of the line and was willing to sacrifice his own life to accomplish it. And as much as he would be willing to do so, he didn't think Leon would want to get one brother back at the cost of the other.
Thank you!
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Choosing the Right Depth for Installing Underground Warning Tape
When it comes to ensuring the safety of underground utilities, installing underground warning tape correctly is essential. The depth at which the tape is placed plays a crucial role in its effectiveness as a safeguard against accidental digging or excavation that could damage critical infrastructure, such as electrical cables, gas lines, or pipelines. Understanding the correct depth for installing warning tape for underground cable is essential to protect not only the utilities but also the workers and the surrounding environment.
Importance of Warning Tape for Underground
Underground warning tape is a bright, non-adhesive material often made of polyethylene or other durable materials designed to alert excavators to the presence of utilities below. It serves as a visual signal during excavation that they are nearing a hazardous area containing cables or pipes. The Warning tape for underground cable typically includes a printed message such as "Caution: Buried Electric Line Below" or "Warning: Gas Line Below," which provides immediate identification of the utility type and alerts workers to proceed with caution.
This simple yet highly effective safety measure prevents accidental damage to vital systems. However, its effectiveness depends significantly on the depth at which it is installed. If it is too shallow, the tape can be disturbed or eroded over time by natural soil movements or human activities like gardening. Conversely, if placed too deep, it may not serve as an early warning, as excavators could reach utility lines before encountering the tape.
Recommended Depth for Installing Underground Tape
The recommended depth for installing underground warning tape depends largely on the type of utility it is protecting. Underground warning tape manufacturers generally provide guidelines on depth based on the utility’s specific needs. However, certain universal principles can be applied across most situations.
For most utilities, warning tape is installed between 12 to 18 inches below the surface, directly above the utility line. This ensures that the tape is encountered before the actual cable or pipeline, giving workers enough warning to stop excavation and take appropriate precautions. For deeper utilities, such as water mains or gas pipelines, the warning tape may need to be installed as deep as 24 inches to maintain its effectiveness.
Local regulations may also dictate the required depth for installation. Some regions may require the tape to be laid at a specific depth to comply with legal safety standards. Additionally, factors such as the type of soil, climate conditions, and the potential for erosion or landscaping should also be considered when deciding the installation depth. Following these guidelines will help ensure the tape provides adequate protection without risking premature exposure or failure.
Factors That Affect Depth of Underground Warning Tape
Several factors can affect the depth at which underground warning tape is installed, making it crucial to assess each situation individually. These factors include:
Type of Utility: The type of utility being protected will significantly impact the required depth. Electrical cables, telecommunications lines, and gas pipelines all have different safety requirements that must be adhered to during installation.
Soil Composition: The texture and composition of the soil can influence how deep the tape should be placed. In areas with loose or sandy soil, deeper installation may be necessary to prevent erosion from exposing the tape over time. Conversely, in hard or compacted soils, the tape may be installed at a shallower depth.
Climate and Environmental Conditions: In regions that experience freezing and thawing cycles, soil movement can disturb underground materials, making it essential to install warning tape deeper to ensure it remains in place. Wet conditions or areas prone to flooding may also require deeper installation to prevent the tape from being washed away or degraded by moisture.
Landscaping and Future Excavation Risks: In areas where future landscaping or construction projects are likely, it may be wise to install the tape at a depth that considers potential future disturbances. This ensures that the warning tape remains effective even after the terrain changes.
The Role of Manufacturers in Safety
Underground warning tape manufacturers play a vital role in ensuring the safety of utility lines. They are responsible for creating high-quality, durable warning tapes that can withstand various environmental conditions without deteriorating over time. These manufacturers often offer tapes in different colors and with custom printed messages that conform to industry standards for each type of utility.
In addition to the tape itself, some Underground warning tape manufacturers offer consultation services to guide contractors and utility companies in choosing the right materials and installation depths for their specific projects. They may also provide installation best practices to ensure compliance with local regulations and safety standards.
By providing reliable products and services, underground warning tape manufacturers are critical partners in safeguarding infrastructure and preventing accidents that could lead to service disruptions, costly repairs, or even loss of life.
Warning Mats in Pipeline Protection
In addition to underground warning tape, warning mats are often used in pipeline protection to enhance safety further. Warning mats are typically thicker and more durable than warning tapes, providing an added layer of protection against accidental damage. They are placed directly over pipelines to serve as a robust barrier that is not only visible but also provides physical resistance against heavy machinery that might attempt to dig too close to a pipeline.
Warning mats are particularly useful in protecting high-risk utilities, such as gas pipelines, where the consequences of accidental damage can be catastrophic. These mats are designed to absorb impacts and prevent direct contact with the utility, making them an effective measure in areas where heavy construction or excavation equipment is frequently used. Like warning tape, the installation depth of a warning mat in a pipeline system must be carefully considered to ensure maximum protection while remaining practical for excavation projects.
Ensuring Compliance with Local Regulations
When determining the correct depth for installing underground warning tape, it is essential to consider local laws and regulations. Different jurisdictions may have specific requirements based on the type of utility, the expected depth of the utility, and safety considerations unique to the area. Utility companies, contractors, and other professionals must remain in compliance with these regulations to avoid fines, penalties, or worse, dangerous situations that could arise from improper installation.
Consulting with local authorities or underground warning tape manufacturers is highly recommended to ensure compliance. Additionally, referring to guidelines from organizations like OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) or other relevant agencies can provide further insight into best practices for safe installation.
Conclusion
Choosing the correct depth for installing underground Warning mat in pipeline is not a one-size-fits-all solution. It requires a careful assessment of the type of utility, soil conditions, environmental factors, and regulatory requirements. Installing the tape too shallow could result in early exposure and a loss of effectiveness, while placing it too deep may lead to utility lines being damaged before any warning is detected.
By understanding the nuances of depth installation and working closely with underground warning tape manufacturers, contractors and utility workers can ensure that they create a safer, more reliable underground system. Taking the time to assess the needs of each project thoroughly will lead to long-lasting results, protecting both underground utilities and those working near them.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)
Why is warning tape necessary for underground utilities? Warning tape serves as a visual marker to alert excavators and prevent accidental damage to buried utilities such as cables, pipelines, and gas lines, thereby reducing the risk of costly repairs and hazardous situations.
What is the difference between warning tape and warning mats? Warning tape is a thin, brightly colored material placed above utilities as a visual warning, while warning mats are thicker, more durable barriers that protect pipelines from mechanical strikes during excavation.
Can underground warning tape be detected by metal detectors? Yes, some underground warning tapes are designed with detectable materials, such as embedded metal strips, making it possible for them to be detected by metal detectors before excavation begins.
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Dee Development IPO GMP, Price, Allotment, Profit Estimate 2024
Dee Development IPO Description – Dee Development is an engineering company providing specialized process piping solutions for industries such as oil and gas, power (including nuclear), chemicals, and other process industries through engineering, procurement, and manufacturing. It also manufactures and supplies piping products such as high-pressure piping systems, piping spools, high-frequency…
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Piping System and Piping Spools In-Depth Profiling With Key Players and Recent Developments, Forecast Period: 2021-2031
The global piping system and piping spools market size was valued at $4,832.5 million in 2019, and is expected to reach $6,035.0 million by 2027, registering a CAGR of 4.5% from 2020 to 2027. Pipe spool is a fabricated component of a piping system. Pipe spools is a piping system in which a number of raw pipes and pipe fittings (elbows, flanges, and others) are fabricated in fabrication shops or on-site. Roll correction and welding, and durable position fitting and welding, are the two processes used in pipe spooling. Piping spools are generally used in power plants, chemical industries, and oil & gas industries.
Steel pipes, alloy steel, or carbon steel is the material used for pipe spooling. The factors such as growth in exploration and drilling activities for oil around the globe is anticipated to drive the growth of the piping system and piping spools market. For instance, exploration drilling activities increased by nearly 30% from 2017 to 2018. Many oil companies and governments are focusing on new exploration and drilling activities for oil & gas to gain a competitive edge over the other players and fulfil the growing oil demand around the world. For instance, in November 2018, PetroChina, a China-based oil & gas company aimed to raise the oil output in 2021 in Northwestern Xinjiang region. The site is a newly discovered oilfield. However, the fluctuation in raw material prices required for piping spools is anticipated to hamper the growth of the piping system and piping spools market. On the other hand, technological advancement in the piping spools industry is anticipated to provide lucrative opportunities for the market players in the piping spools industry. Moreover, increase in government investment in oil & gas refinery project is projected to cater to the growth of the piping system and piping spools market. For instance, in August 2020, German government invested around $100.8 million on hydrogen project at oil refinery project in Hamburg.
The COVID-19 pandemic has forced many companies in the global piping system and piping spools market to halt their business operations to comply with new government regulations for curbing the spread of COVID-19. This halt in operations directly impacts the revenue flow of the global piping system and piping spools market. In addition, there is a halt in providing raw material to the manufacturers of piping system and piping spools products. However, the demand for piping spools for oil & gas project and chemical projects is expected to increase in the near-term. Hence, halt in manufacturing activities and lockdowns for several months have affected the global piping system and piping spools market, with slow recovery is anticipated during 2021. This is further projected to the re-opening of piping system and piping spools industry at their full-scale capacities, which in turn, would aid the market to recover by the start of 2022.
Competition Analysis
Key companies profiled in the report include Dee Piping System, Metal Forge India, Prosaic Steel and Alloys, U.S. Pipe, Cogbill Construction LLC, ChelPipe Group, CCI Leidingsystemen B.V., Yena Engineering B.V., Cimtas Pipe Fabrication and Trading Co Ltd, Arabian International Co for Steel Structure (AIC), Sung IL Sim Co. Ltd., Seonghwa Industrial Co. Ltd., and Larsen & Toubro Limited.
Full Report With TOC:-https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/piping-system-and-piping-spools-market-A07964
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DEE was incorporated as a modest consultancy firm in the year 1983. The hard-work and commitment of 33 years & 500+ employees made it what it is, a brand name recognized across the world for its quality and client promise, DEE piping systems.
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@chiscribbs @takeabreathandsmile eeehhhhh I don't have words anymore so, here ya go -
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Spin That Record, Babe
Even during breaks, Donatello wouldn’t stop working, and it was starting to get on April’s nerves.
He had always been kinda over-the-top with his tech, but the Shredder episode had taken his obsession to a whole another level. Admittedly, they had all been a little more on edge, training harder, patrolling more often - but Donnie? Damn restless. Yes, the new lair needed a security system, and their last defenses hadn’t been enough to stop their enemy, and all that drill; April knew his excuses by heart. While she was the first to admit he wasn’t wrong, it didn’t change the cold, hard facts: Donnie wasn’t a machine. He needed to relax as much as the next turtle.
His tendency to overwork hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course. At his brothers’ insistence, he had agreed to let them drag him out of his lab once in a while, but not even Splinter had managed to separate him from his gauntlet for long, and he was never really offline.
Case in point: the whole family was chilling in the atrium, allowing themselves to take a breather after a rough couple of days, all content to lie there and do nothing, for once. All, except for a certain stubborn, workaholic turtle.
The gang was sitting in all kinds of absurd poses, humming to an old pop playlist and indulging in small talk, but Donatello was typing away on his tech wrist, not-so-casually leaning against the arm of the couch. April was under the impression he wouldn’t even notice if they all left the room without telling him.
She wouldn’t voice it like that, but she was getting worried.
“Ooh, haven’t heard this one in ages,” Mikey piped as a new song started playing.
“Ah, Just Dance! A classic,” Leo cheered, turning the volume up a few decibels, vibing in his beanbag.
April smiled. “If I weren’t so worn up, I’d probably lift my lazy ass up and wiggle a little,” she said, not moving a toe.
“Yeah, that last session was a bit much,” Raph agreed. “Totally worth it, though! I never saw Mikey do that spinning move before.”
Mikey answered excitedly, but April wasn’t really listening anymore. Her gaze had instinctively flown to where Donnie stood, and she couldn’t help the pang of disappointment at the absence of emotion on his face.
She was about to turn back to the conversation when she heard a faint tap, tap coming from his direction.
Donnie was every bit his distant, focused self, and his body language would give nothing away if it weren’t for his right foot, distractedly tapping along with the song.
A predatory smirk spread on April’s lips and she found herself getting up from her seat without too much effort, soreness suddenly gone.
“Watcha doing there, Dee?” she asked innocently as she approached him.
“Nothing fancy,” he started, and that was all April needed to know. “Running a beta version of this program I’ve been meaning to-”
“So what I’m hearing is, it can wait, right?”
Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed his left arm, effectively interrupting his work. He gave her a suspicious look. “Depends. If this is an impromptu mission -”
“Oh, it’s a mission alright,” April chuckled with just a hint of mischief, dragging him to a less cluttered corner of the room under the intrigued gazes of the brothers.
“Well, what is it?”
“I haven’t bootyshaked in at least 9000 years!” she winked.
“Hell yeah!” Leo laughed, hauling himself out of his beanbag, playing the music even louder.
- Just dance! Gonna be okay, da da doo-doo -
“Pfft, Lady Gaga?” Donnie snorts good-naturedly. “This is so 2008.”
“Your jammy-jamming is so 2008.”
That seemed to do the trick: Donnie’s expression shifted to something definitely amused. “Oh, yeah? You’re on, O’Neil!”
It couldn’t be that long since the family had last danced like this, April thought. They all comfortably slipped into familiar steps, Mikey looking impeccably in control of his movements, Leo copying (read: butchering) Michael Jackson’s style, Raph putting everything on his shoulders’ game. The real pros, though, that was all Donnie and her: they were swinging around in improvised moves, switching back and forth between proper rock-and-roll and graceless nonsense, spinning in open circles one moment and awkwardly bumping their hips the next - tearing the dancefloor like they owned it.
No, it couldn’t be that long since they’d danced like this, but damn if it didn’t feel like it. She had missed having simple, silly fun like this with the boys. There had been a lot going on recently, and she hadn’t realized just how sober they had all gotten. Right now, though, all seriousness had left the lair; all that remained was the resounding sounds of laughter, the unadulterated pleasure of enjoying a perfectly good song, the stinging feeling in her cheeks from smiling too much.
So, yes, she’d almost dropped her glasses at some point, and with how sore her muscles had been before she started dancing, she would probably be feeling this in the morning. But you know what? April only had to throw one look at the boys’ thrilled faces, at Donnie’s unfocused eyes, and she knew she’d do it again no matter how exhausted.
Sometimes, what tired the body could energize the soul.
This is kind of old, but since I posted it to my IG, I figured might as well post it here, too.
Just some fun, dance-y Donnie-and-Aprils. They’re hangin’ out, havin’ a good time, tearin’ up the dance floor together as you do. This doubled as a style study, as it was one of my first attempts to copy the look of the show. I had a much easier time getting the hang of drawing Donnie than I did April, which you can probably tell at some points, lol.
There was originally supposed to be a sequential order to these, buuuuut it pretty much got lost the more I worked on it. So now it’s just a mish-mosh of dance-y doodles, haha. Anyway - enjoy!
#4 am here#it's my own damn fault I know#but I couldn't just go to sleep with all this scene in my head!#anyways this was really fun to think about#really pleasant to write#and YES we need more wholesome donnie & april content in this fandom!#op your art is AMAZING#thanks for indulging me!#writing#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#save rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#reblog
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Advantages Of Dee Piping's Modular Piping Skids And Modules For Industrial Applications
The modular design and customization capabilities of Dee's skids and modules make them a highly versatile and efficient solution for a variety of industrial applications
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Jackson had been watching his charge do nothing but tend to the various machines around his workshop for the last seven hours. Three furnaces were going, loading him up on carbon steel that he would immediately feed into the industrial cutter for more plates. The grinder was mass producing bronze pipes. If he wasn’t babysitting those, he was working on the mess of wires and small items at his Worktable, or he switched to the assembly station.
Llewellyn was good at what he could do. The fix to the Dee Dee transport system had been a stroke of genius, one that came with a few threats as more experienced builders didn’t like a child upstaging them. With more complex projects being guided to him, they got angrier. Several didn’t like that the son of a well known woman builder was doing better than them.
But now, he needed to rest. He was basically running himself down trying to get the main project done while also taking on smaller commissions to build up his savings. His gols ran out faster than most builders. He was paying for his space at a higher rate, paying more for the rights to mine and get wood. He didn’t complain. He should have, but he wasn’t.
Watts didn’t stop when he watched Jackson walk in. He pulled out two more carbon steel bars that were barely cool enough to handle without protection and held onto them while he waited for a third and fourth to come out so have them cut. The older man took the bars and set them on his Worktable. Confused, he watched the older man before he was lifted in the air and over the man’s shoulder. “Jackson?!” he yelped, flailing for three seconds before grabbing on to the back of the man’s shirt.
He was then deposited at the small dining table where there was a plate of Chicken Risotto with Coconut and vegetable salad waiting for him. A basket of fresh bread and butter separated that and well seasoned ribs and his own vegetable salad. The man sat down by his food. “Eat, Watts,” he said, “Before everything goes cold.” The younger man glanced down at his food, hearing and feeling his stomach rumble in response. Jackson smirked when Watts dug into the risotto first, his teenaged appetite returning with a vengeance to devour the bowl. One whole bread loaf was grabbed and torn into with the butter being attack after. “Don’t forget your vegetables.”
That gained a glare in return before a piece of lettuce was speared and regretfully shoved in his mouth. The salad was also ate at a fast pace. The bread disappeared, the chicken stripped.
“Thanks, Jackson.”
The older man smiled. “You’re welcome, Watts. Finish your vegetables.”
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The Place Beyond the Pines [2p! America x reader] 08
08 - Nightcall Wordcount: 3, 393 Rating: M for strong language, mature and ideologically sensitive themes. Chapter synopsis: Alfred witnesses something he wishes he didn’t. Even in tears, it gives him the resolve to call you one last time over the phone. Meanwhile, Allen drives you through the night to get the closure he always wanted. He tells you the truth about himself, his regrets, and everything he would’ve wanted you to know if he were to never see you again. The prospect is right around the corner as you’re forced to choose between the two. To cut one off forever and be with the other. Disclaimer: This is a crossover with the film, “The Place Beyond the Pines.” The reader is referred to as she/her.
The Place Beyond the Pines 08 - Nightcall
A/N: I was inspired by Kavinsky’s song “Nightcall”
Alfred looked for you outside the bathrooms.
When he walked into a clearing, he saw what he needed to see.
As he stood frozen still on the dirt, drowned by the excitement of festivities and laughter of strangers, his chest ached with the sobs he’d yet to cry. The ringing and buzzing of machines in his ears faded. He couldn’t feel Jason’s arms around his neck anymore. All he knew was you and Allen sharing a tearful reunion, then his own crushing betrayal.
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He didn’t like eating out back then. He was a cheapskate. But just for the opportunity to strike up a conversation, he would spare a few bucks for a coffee or a bagel. And just like any other regular customer, the staff eventually came to know him by name—Alfred, the guy who only came in for a single cup of joe. And he’d always sit in the same place.
The counter in front of the kitchen door.
You burst through it with a tray in hand. Alfred glances up. You flash him a smile. Making long, purposed strides to one of the booths, you placed two plates in front of a couple sitting opposite each other. When you returned, Alfred found himself listening eagerly to your footsteps. Any second now.
“The usual?” You appeared behind the counter and picked up a jug of coffee. He nodded with a grin. Bending down to retrieve a cup and saucer, you added this in a strain. “You know, you stay awfully long for someone who just orders rocket fuel.”
His flickered his zealous eyes over you like he couldn’t wait for his turn to speak.
“Why, can’t I do that?”
“No, but you’re giving me the wrong idea.”
He brought his coffee up to his lips and sipped it. His expression and tone were both unreadable when he piped up again. “What kinda idea?”
You scoffed through your nose, struggling to stifle a smile. He was good, but you could do him one better. “Hm... That you don’t have anything better to do?” Alfred laughed airily. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. “Or a social life, for that matter. You come in every afternoon, Alfred. Why do you keep coming back?”
He shrugged, pursing his lips forcefully.
“I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I really like the coffee.”
“Really,” You rose your brows skeptically. You picked up the jug and watched the blackish liquid slosh in the glass. “Nobody likes the coffee.”
Alfred stared at you wordlessly. ‘Oops’ was written all over his face. He was never good at telling whether hot, bitter, bean water was good or not.
“I, uh, I actually have to tell you something.”
His cheeks grew rosy as he cracked like an egg.
“Can you meet me outside in a minute?”
You showed a coy look, having figured him out. It had been two months since you first met him in January. He was a charmer in his own right. Sweet, sensitive, well-spoken, and funny, it wasn’t hard to befriend someone like him. He never beat around the bush to say he wanted to go steady with you either.
“I have something to tell you too,” While you stood with him outside his car, he would dart his eager eyes over your face as you spoke. You quickly broke away from his gaze, unable to handle his scrutiny on top of the rising anxiety in your system. “I...”
“Take your time,” Alfred squeezed your hand. When he felt the light trembling in it, he frowned deeply. You were deathly afraid of something. His reaction, no doubt. And so, he forced this out with hopes of calming your shallow breaths. “Hey.”
You looked up quickly. His ocean blues stared at you with so much understanding, your racing heart slowed until your chest no longer hurt. Something about Alfred made you want to trust him. His kindness, his respect, he always had a way of making people feel welcomed, no matter the circumstance.
“Whatever you tell me, I promise I won’t hold it against you. So don’t be scared, okay?”
Alfred stroked your skin with his thumb.
“You can trust me.”
“I know I can trust you,” You shook your head lightly, causing a few tears to stream down to your chin. “But you won’t be happy either way. And you won’t deserve what you get into.” Reaching up to your face contorted with pain, you rubbed everything away.
“I don’t wanna do this to you.”
It was his turn to shake his head, albeit in dissent.
“Do what?” You turned away. He simply moved to face you again. “What could you do to me to make me unhappy? You have to tell me.”
“I’m pregnant.” You confessed.
His eyes went round from shock.
A suffocating silence ensued. You rubbed away more tears and tore yourself away from him before he could say anything. You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You couldn’t handle it. Just when you felt the first sob rise in your throat, he shot out a hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you abruptly.
“Is that a problem?” Alfred asked almost defiantly. Just like that, he turned your greatest sorrow into your greatest joy. He saw the love in your eyes, fierce and undying. He saw hope, the one thing you’ve been needing in this despairing world. “If you’re not together with them anymore, why is it a problem?”
You were in love with him then.
So why weren’t you still in love with him now?
He sat in the living room with Jason on his lap. All the lights in the house were off, save for a dim lamp on the coffee table. Alfred never cried, but thinking about it had quiet tears running down his face.
He screwed his eyes shut and hugged Jason.
The boy looked just like his father. And he’d always hated it from the bottom of his heart. Sometimes, a mere glimpse of his little face was all it took for his blood to boil. But he couldn’t go on like this forever.
“I’m sorry.” He sobbed into his hair. The child was quiet in his arms, having fallen asleep on the car ride back home. But his small hands never stopped clinging to his shirt, scrunching up the fabric.
“I’m sorry for ever being angry at you.”
I’m giving you a night call to tell you how I feel I want to drive you through the night, down the hills
Allen floored it and sped through the black streets. His eyes darted around every so often as he made sharp turns, swerving across the asphalt in loud screeches. There was no destination. No endpoint. Just the craze to get away from there. And he never knew how much he needed it until he did it.
Taking you far, far away from Alfred.
Far, far away had to settle for ten blocks down, however. Pulling into a quiet road, he parked the car next to the curb and turned to you.
“I know what you’re gonna say,” Allen stared at you warily as he raised his hands in surrender. “I know what you’re gonna say.” He shook his head.
“Do you?”
Your fierce glare on him had been unwavering, but as the pause dragged on, it faded into a look of terror. You turned away and covered your mouth in grief, only now just processing what had just happened. Allen couldn’t stop making mistakes. And you?
You kissed him.
“Yeah. ‘Fuck you, Allen. You’re the worst thing that’s happened to my life. I wished you never fucking came back.” He exclaimed, making you shrink into your neck from his intensity. His chest was rising and falling dramatically as he breathed. “I get it. Okay? I get it. And you know what? You’re right. And I’m sorry. But I just want you to hear me out.”
I’m gonna tell you something you don’t want to hear I’m gonna show you where it’s dark, but have no fear
“What? That you wished things ended differently?” You muttered, the whispered words barely in his earshot. Whipping your head to him, you showed your red face contorted with pain. “Well, guess what, Al? You can’t just, force everything to go your way just because you want to.” Bile had risen in your throat, and the tears returned in quiet streams.
“Come on, that’s not what I—” He winced.
You tried rubbing everything away, but to no avail. The tears just never stopped.
“—but it is. You brought me out here to do that, didn’t you?” Allen covered his eyes for a hot second; a last resort to hide the regret that ran through them. “So you did. But it’s too late for that, now. I’m with someone else, and I just left them by themselves at the fucking fair with Jason!” You choked.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Allen pleaded, earning a furious look from you. As desperate as you were to push him away, to save everything you had without him, your life with Alfred, and all your dreams, what he added melted your anger in an instant.
“But I just wanna tell you something,” He squeezed your hand tightly. “Just hear me out, please.”
“No. I can’t.”
“One last time.” He whispered. “Then you don’t have to listen to me ever again.”
His words spoke of cutting conviction, and his eyes, an endless sadness he could never live down. When you heard it, you had to look to the window to avoid crying even harder, knowing a single glimpse of his face was all it took. His beautiful, ugly face that smiled even in the darkest hours.
Whatever happened between you both, what he was about to say could be the last thing he’d ever say to you. He knew that. You did too.
So you listened with bated breath as he gathered himself in a thick swallow.
While he searched his soul for the exact words, the past, present, and future converged into one.
“You’re right in saying that I wished things ended differently,” He said, his voice no higher than a whisper to hide the cracks. “It’s my biggest regret, leaving you behind. Always was and always will be.” The words were like stones in his heart. As he finally let them out, the weight was lifted, one by one.
It was the one thing he failed to do two years ago, and now that he could, he felt strangely at peace.
“I thought I could make up for everything by giving you money, helping you out, buying that crib, just, being there, you know?” Allen grinned, but joy was hardly the word to describe what he was feeling. You knew that all too well, so you had to cover your head with your arms to contain the trembling.
“And I’m glad I did. But I need you to give it to me straight,” He continued, lifting your face up with a hand on your warm cheek. “So tell me to go, or to stay. I wanna hear it.” He felt you tense up in his fingers, a sure-fire sign he hit the mark.
This was finally it, and you were the one to decide how it ended. “I’ll listen to you this time.”
You never managed an answer. All you knew was that you weren’t ready to see Alfred yet, so going home wasn’t an option. Allen took you to his trailer in the meantime. Ten minutes in, the tense silence was broken by a few knocks on the door.
He went to answer it. Robin had been standing behind it, leaning to one side.
“There’s a phone call for her,” He began.
You sat up.
“It’s some guy called Alfred.”
|
“So, who’s the guy?” He murmured over your head. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean.”
You were laying on Alfred’s chest, feeling every breath go in and out of his body in slow rises. Your sweat-ridden bodies that pressed flush together never once repelled you. Every inch of his skin was another source of unlikely comfort. But upon hearing that question, cold feet settled in out of nowhere.
“Just some guy. Why?”
Alfred inhaled deeply, pausing to rephrase himself.
“Just curious,” You propped yourself up with your arms and loomed over him with a frown. “I promise.” He laughed breathily. “I’m not looking for a reason to be mad at you or anything. I already told you I don’t care about all that.” You sighed, then lowered yourself onto him again, albeit reluctantly.
There was no reason you couldn’t trust Alfred. But that didn’t make it any easier. After nearly a year, one would’ve thought you’d have moved on. But every time you thought about him, about Allen, your chest ached with the same pain on the day he left.
You thought you could hide it, from yourself and him, but Alfred was always more sensitive than he let on.
“It was just a fling, okay? I met him at the fair. He did the motorcycle shows.” While you unearthed old memories you wished to bury, he nodded tiredly.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been to one of those,” Alfred yawned, resting a hand on your back. “They’re pretty cool.”
“Yeah. We weren’t anything, so can we please stop talking about it now?” Your voice was no higher than a quick whisper to mask the hurt inside it.
Reducing what you and Allen had to something so meaningless affected you more than you wanted it to. But it had always been this way. The soft spot for him never went away when he did, and instead, grew at every passing day he wasn’t here.
But you had to ignore it for Alfred’s sake.
Allen wasn’t here for you.
He was.
|
That was one of the few conversations you talked about your past lover. You never mentioned Allen first, so it was always him. As he waited for you to pick up the phone, he lingered on the fact for an epiphany that took him too long to realize.
That night in bed, you were hurting. He’d been too tired to notice. But what he couldn’t excuse himself from was throwing away what Allen gave you for Jason’s first birthday. Alfred convinced himself he did that for your sake, to help you move on, but it was more self-serving than anything.
A dick move to soothe his short burst of jealousy.
And it probably only made you miss Allen more.
You were still in love with the bastard, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“Alfred?” Your voice grounded him faster than a cold splash of water. “It’s me.”
“Hey.” He smiled softly. There were so many things he wanted to say, but everything was lodged in his throat in a convoluted mess. The night was a somber mix of anger and muddled emotions, but what stood out most was a heart-wrenching sadness.
What he forced out only captured it.
“I missed you.”
A long pause followed.
If Alfred knew you like he thought he did, you were trying not to cry. Unbeknownst to him, he was right.
“I missed you too.” You murmured faintly. His lips twitched up some more, but the momentary joy was short-lived. His smile trembled away as he predicted what you would say, word for word. “I’m sorry I left you at the fair by yourself. I don’t have an excuse, so I don’t... I don’t wanna ask for your forgiveness.”
The mood was somber and knowing. You both understood each other’s feelings without having to relay them. The phone call was just a formality.
“I know. I know you’re sorry,” Alfred reiterated, bringing a hand up to his eyes. What he was about to say would break the ice that formed, a phenomenon that happened every single time Allen was involved. “But he probably forced you to leave, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, but I—”
“—you kissed him. I know.” His voice became a little strained, but he forced himself to keep walking down this road he took. “I saw, (F/N). I saw.”
You tried your damnedest to not break apart right then and there. You thought it hit you before, but here you were, reliving one of your biggest regrets that would turn into your salvation or damnation. However Alfred took it was entirely up to him. And you wouldn’t be able to hold it against him.
“I’m really sorry.” You choked, unable to fathom how hurt he must’ve been when he witnessed everything. “I get it if you want to break things off. I’ve been unfair to you for the longest time, not being able to focus on you. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
“Who said it was a waste of time?” Alfred muttered, shedding a few quiet tears himself. You covered your mouth to stifle any noises as you kept listening.
He’d been happy for nearly two years, being with you. Things may have turned a little rocky turn towards the end, but as sure as the sun rose, his love stayed constant. And it would stay that way as long as he breathed. “I don’t think it was a waste of time. I loved what we had. I loved dreaming with you.” Alfred sucked in a sharp breath to hold back a cry.
“And I love you, ‘kay? But I have to ask,” You closed your eyes as you prepared for the dreaded question.
“Did you ever love me?”
You would never forgive yourself to think he needed the reassurance. To think he wasn’t sure of something so true. But then again, what you did tonight, as well as many other nights beforehand, would’ve tested that and poisoned him with doubt.
“I always loved you. I fell in love with you the second you said you wanted to be with me,” You gushed. By then, you’d run out of tears to cry, but the outburst was the most emotional you’ve ever been. “I didn’t think I’d have a chance to be with anybody again. I was all alone when I had Jason. But you... You swept me off my feet. I was crazy about you.”
Blood rushed up to his face for a hot blush, and he was pleased to say it wasn’t because he was about to cry again. Not sad tears, at least.
“But you’re crazier about Allen.”
“Alfred, I mean it.” You huffed sharply. He chuckled on the other side, much to your relief. “I really do, Al. And I still love you, even if I don’t deserve to.”
“Then that’s all I wanted to hear.”
Allen drove you back home. Alfred had been waiting on the front porch. The second you saw the guy, you ran to him like the wind and plowed into his arms. While you both hugged, you both talked some more. As much as it hurt to let you go, he couldn’t force you to be with him when it wasn’t what you wanted.
But you made it pretty explicit it would’ve happened if the circumstances were different. He could be your lover in another life, just not this one. Allen was a little grumpy upon hearing it, but he didn’t have any complaints. What you had with Alfred was special, and he respected that—the guy looked after you in ways he couldn’t, so he ended up shaking on it.
Alfred gripped his hand crazy tight, a final display of his hot frustration with him after tonight, but they cleared a year-long feud nonetheless.
After all, they couldn’t be the only receivers of your love, no matter how fiercely they wished it.
You were at Alfred’s house for another week. Your mother decided to stay, which he was more than happy about. It gave you another reason to write him on top of being Jason’s godfather. Otherwise, you had a clear destination in mind.
Wherever Allen went, you followed.
“You ready to roll?” He asked, gripping your waist with untold affection. His smile on you was unwavering and spoke of endless possibilities. Allen was finally untethered from the past, and he would charge into the future with you, unrestrained and pining for more.
“Always.”
The feeling of his mouth on yours never felt so right.
Whether it was to his trailer or down to New York City courtesy of Mathias’s car, a favor he was doing him for something you had yet to find out, you were always by his side. Allen didn’t have to worry about leaving you behind again, and instead, he could focus on growing with you rather than apart.
#hetalia axis powers#hetalia fanfiction#hetalia fanfic#hetalia x reader#axis powers ヘタリア#axis powers hetalia#alfredosauce50#hetalia#america x reader#aph america#2ptalia#2p!americaxreader#2p america x reader#2p america#2p! america x reader#2p! america#2p!america#hws america#hws denmark#aph denmark#film crossover#movie crossover#the place beyond the pines#fanfiction#hetalia world series
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rogue.
↳ a night out leads you to exactly where you want to be.
◇ yoongi x reader ◇ smut | bit of angst | strangers!au ◇ 3.9k [1/1]
⇢ for danica aka @dee-ehn, as part of ficswithluv’s changeswithluv project for black lives matter ♡
notes: i told danica this was going to be daechwita!yoongi and boy i was not kidding one bit! i took quite a few creative liberties, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. thank you for your donation to such an important cause!
warnings: dom!yoongi, tatted and pierced!yoongi, like he has a tongue piercing whoOPS my hand slipped 🙈, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected sex (stay safe kids!!!), a very vague sense of the time period in which this is all happening bc it’s an au and i’m a dumbass idk!!! 🙈
It’s impossible to miss the man sitting in the corner of the bar.
He’s surrounded by a raucous group of people you can only assume are his friends, dressed in muted green with a silver chain at his throat. Dark eyes peer out from behind dark hair, ever vigilant as they flit around the room, scanning faces and assessing threats. Some would call it caution—others would call it paranoia—but you have to applaud him nonetheless. One can never be too careful, after all. While this bar does serve as an unofficial headquarters for the resistance, you’ve seen time and time again that the government has eyes and ears everywhere. You’ve watched friends and acquaintances alike get dragged off by uniformed guards, the emperor’s insignia on their chests shining bright as a flame and just as dangerous.
You’re seated at the counter on this particular evening. The bar is crowded, but even the other patrons’ chatter cannot drown out the conversation surrounding the man and his friends. It’s almost as if you’re attuned to them—like a radio set to a single station before the dial broke off. Every word comes through as clear as day, and you lean back in your seat to listen, sipping languidly on your drink.
“I’m telling you, we’re ready,” one of the men is saying. In the firelight, his brown hair glows orange, and the scruff of beard on his chin is rust. “One more week, and everything will be set. Taehyung’s already talked his way into the palace. We won’t have a better shot than this.”
“It’s hard to believe he’s already in,” the man across from him says, his wide doe eyes a stark contrast to the hard set of his jaw. “I thought it’d take him a lot longer, to be honest.”
“Tae’s a good liar,” a third man pipes up, shrugging. “Always has been.”
The second man snickers, his nose scrunching with mirth. “Really? You don’t say. You wouldn’t happen to be thinking about the dumpling incident again, would you, Jimin?”
Through all of this, the dark-haired man stays silent, sipping pensively on his drink. His gaze roves past where you’re seated, and though you can’t be certain, you swear it lingers for a split second before moving on.
“Let’s give credit where credit is due, though.” The first speaker is talking again, giving the dark-haired man a hearty clap on the back that nearly sends his tankard flying. “We wouldn’t have gotten half as far in our plan if it wasn’t for Yoongi here. How about a toast?”
“To Yoongi,” the one named Jimin intones immediately, raising his cup. “He’s always fighting the good fight.”
“To our very own Min Yoongi, finally taking out the asshole emperor for good,” the first man adds. “To one asshole killing another—and with the same last name, nonetheless. You sure there’s no relation between you two? We could be planning a patricide, for all we know.”
Yoongi stiffens. “Don’t even joke about that,” he says, his voice deep and lilting with a pleasant rasp that sends a shiver down the length of your spine. “That bastard isn’t my family. And even if he is—well, he won’t be for much longer.”
The threat lacing his words is unmistakable, and when you shiver again, it’s for a wholly different reason. People who want the cruel emperor dead aren’t difficult to come by, but few have the courage to speak of it so openly. But now, with the resistance’s plan finally coming to fruition, people are getting bolder. Tougher. Happier.
It hadn’t felt real, at first. The initial whispers were hesitant and disbelieving, but gained momentum with each passing day. Have you heard? The resistance is finally making a move. They’re going to kill Emperor Min. But despite the growing excitement amongst the townspeople, your heart remains heavy.
Ever since Emperor Min came into power a decade ago, his cruelty and ruthlessness have been unparalleled. His guards patrol the streets at night under the guise of keeping the peace, but you know as well as anyone that they’re searching for dissenters. Every night, you huddle away in your home with the windows shuttered, listening as the guards loot the bars and beat the helpless, all the while trying to root out rumored members of the resistance.
So far, their efforts have seen mixed success. Last you heard, some lower ranking members had been imprisoned. Several were executed two months back, their severed heads hung from the palace walls as an example to those who dared defy the regime. But the topmost members of the resistance, as well as the leader, have all managed to evade capture. They began a series of weekly raids, sneaking into the palace’s kitchens and coming away with stocks of food to feed the hungry. Next they looted the money vaults, filling their bags with bars of gold for distribution. And then they visited the armory.
Needless to say, the rumors swelled—as did the emperor’s desperation to quash the dissenters. You kept a careful ear close to the ground for any news, and listened in disbelief as each subsequent story grew more outlandish.
The leader of the resistance is the old emperor, who faked his death all those years ago.
The leader is Emperor Min’s bastard son, and he’s avenging his mother’s death.
The leader is—
A fresh wave of laughter draws you out of your thoughts, and your attention immediately goes to the source. The group of men surrounding Yoongi has dissolved into mirth, but the dark-haired man isn’t grinning with the rest of them. His dark eyes are trained on you, sharp and steady, and you wonder at what he could possibly be thinking. Is he even staring at you? You turn to check behind you, just to be sure.
And when you turn around again, he’s standing right in front of you.
“Oh!” you squeak, startled by his sudden proximity.
Yoongi blinks lazily at you, unfazed. He catches the bartender’s attention and buys another drink, and you belatedly notice that the tankard in his hand is empty and instantly feel foolish for assuming that he came over for anything else. Still, you can’t help but zero in on the way he leans against the counter as he waits, his body a hair’s breadth from yours, his elbows propped up on the polished wooden surface. This close to him, you can see the beginnings of an intricate serpentine dragon coiled around his right forearm, the inky black tail looping around his wrist before coming to a stop near the silver ring on his thumb. The rest of the tattoo disappears into the rolled up sleeves of his worn green jacket, and you wonder exactly where it begins.
Then you wonder what it would be like to trace those lines of ink with your fingers—and your tongue, if he permits it. Your throat bobs at the thought, your thighs squeezing together unconsciously, and it’s almost as if he can read your mind because he’s suddenly leaning closer, a crooked smirk playing on his lips.
“You seem tense,” he murmurs. “Why’s that, doll?”
A spark ignites the base of your spine at the term of endearment, flaring up through your veins. He’s so close you can count each individual eyelash, fluttering against his pale cheekbones with every blink. Silver earrings dangle from his ears—a combination of thin chains and hoops that glitter in the dim light. You think you spot another flash of silver between his lips, embedded in his tongue.
“Long week,” you manage at last, thanking your lucky stars that your voice comes out steady. “Trouble at work. But you don’t want to hear about that.”
“You’re right,” Yoongi replies, accepting the fresh drink that the bartender hands him with a nod of thanks. He takes a long sip, and you can’t help the way your gaze lingers on the soft curve of his lips around the rim of the glass. Then he nods at your own glass, which is half-full and mostly ice at this point. “Can I get you another? I hear alcohol makes your troubles go away.”
You raise a brow. “Really? I hear it just causes new, different troubles.”
An amused grin pulls at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. “You may be right about that,” he concedes, setting his drink down with a thunk and leaning in close again. “So how exactly do you propose we make your troubles go away?”
Your other brow rises to join the first. “I don’t recall asking for your help.”
That earns you another grin. “And yet, here I am, offering my services nonetheless.”
A beat of silence stretches between you, taut as a tightrope and thick with tension. Yoongi raises his glass to his lips again, but his dark eyes remain fixed on yours over the rim, unblinking and never once wavering. The clamor of the bar fades into the background, slowing until it feels like you’re swimming in molasses. Your heart thuds in your chest, arrhythmic and fluttery as the wings of the butterflies that have made a home in your belly.
You blink first. Your gaze drops to the soft pout of his mouth, and that’s all it takes for the thread to snap—for Yoongi to ditch his drink and grab your hand instead. “You wanna get out of here?” he asks.
And maybe it’s the alcohol swimming in your system, but you nod. Yoongi stands up, tugging you with him, and you relish the way his fingers fit perfectly into the spaces between your own. He leads you through the crowded bar, weaving amongst the scattered tables and their occupants, and you gasp when he suddenly veers to the side and tugs you into a dim corridor. Several closed doors line it, and he doesn’t hesitate to cage you against the nearest one. His mouth descends on yours, slanting fervently across yours in a kiss, and your eyes flutter shut.
Yoongi kisses you with intoxicating ferocity. His palms are hot against the sliver of skin that your shirt has ridden up to reveal, and devious fingers slide beneath the hem to push it up further. You moan into his open mouth, your breaths intermingling, and it turns into a gasp when the doorknob suddenly digs into your back, cool and unyielding.
Your companion pulls back, frowning at the way the knob refuses to give beneath his fingertips. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Locked.”
“What a shame,” you breathe back.
He hums and takes your face in his hands, kissing you until you go weak in the knees. “I’ve got a car out back,” he rasps when he pulls away.
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Not two minutes later, you’re stumbling out into the back alleyway, the low drone of traffic and passersby a welcome change from the din inside the bar. As promised, a beat-up black sedan is parked against the brick wall, and Yoongi wastes no time in pressing you down onto the hood, slotting himself between your spread legs and mouthing insistently at your neck until you’re scrabbling at his back, your breathing labored and shaky.
“Come on, doll.” Yoongi straightens up, raking his dark hair out of his eyes and offering you a crooked smirk. “You can do better than that. Be a good girl for me and let me hear you.”
A pulse of heat spikes through you. His hands come down on either side of your body, twin metallic thunks as the rings on his fingers meet steel. One side of his mouth quirks as he looms above you, but he doesn’t touch you just yet. The silvery chains around his neck glint in the dim glow of the streetlamp at the end of the alley, and Yoongi huffs out an amused chuckle when he notices your diverted attention.
“Eyes on me, doll,” he chides, tapping the side of his nose. “Unless you’re looking for an audience?” Thoughtfully, he glances over his shoulder, where the alley opens up into the main street. Despite the late hour, there are still cars and pedestrians ambling past, completely unaware of the obscene way you’re sprawled atop the hood of Yoongi’s car with the man himself between your legs.
Completely unaware of the way your skirt is now slowly riding up, aided by Yoongi’s warm hand sliding along the soft, delicate skin of your inner thigh.
“I think you might like the idea of an audience too much,” Yoongi breathes, leaning down until his breath is fanning against your cheeks. There’s a tinge of alcohol that lingers on him, the barest hint of sweetness, but it’s neither overbearing nor unpleasant. You’ve been with men like that before—men whose drunkenness made them bold and stupid and immune to your desires. Those men were nothing like Yoongi, who’s staring down at you, ravenous, as if you’re a feast just begging for him to partake. Nothing like Yoongi, whose carnal gaze promises that he knows exactly what you need.
“I think,” he continues, so casually he may as well have been talking about the weather, “it turns you on, knowing that anyone might look this way and see you like this.” His voice is casual but his smile is wicked, and the combination is enough to have your core seizing, untouched.
And then he’s grabbing at the material of your skirt, bunching it up and leaving your bottom half fully exposed. Teasing fingertips skim the lacy edge of your panties, and your eyes widen when he snaps the elastic against your skin. “Yoongi!”
“Much better,” he hums approvingly. Your cheeks flush with warmth.
When he touches you again, it’s with much more fervor, the pad of his index finger tracing your clothed slit and molding the dampened fabric to your folds. Distantly, you think that you should be more embarrassed, being this wet from just some kissing and a few calculated touches, but the rest of your brain is too lost in Yoongi to care. Your gaze traces the dark ink blossoming across the skin of his forearms, following the serpentine coils of the dragon around his wrist. And then it drops to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans, straining against the faded denim.
Yoongi spots your new fixation almost instantaneously, his smirk morphing into something mocking. “What is it, doll? Do you want something?”
“I—” you try, but your voice sticks in your throat. Yoongi clicks his tongue.
“That won’t do,” he says. He cups your mound in one warm hand, his middle finger dipping inside you through the lace of your underwear, and you keen at the foreign texture of the sodden material. “Would you like to try again?”
“Yoongi, please,” you breathe shakily. Your thighs clench together unconsciously, and your companion merely chuckles as he pushes them back apart and settles between them, nosing forward until he’s inches from your dripping core.
“Good girls tell me what they want,” he proclaims softly. “Good girls get rewarded. But bad girls, they get punished. Do you want to guess which one you are, doll?”
He leaves you little room to answer—not that you could’ve mustered up anything coherent even if you tried. In the span of a single breath, Yoongi pulls aside your drenched underwear and sinks his tongue inside your pussy, and you belatedly realize that you’d been correct when you thought you saw a silver piercing embedded in his tongue. The metal ball glides smoothly along your walls, hard and unyielding. Each time he pulls back, or darts up to flick at your clit, or laves at your folds with the enthusiasm of a man starved, you feel it rubbing up against your sensitive flesh, the stimulation unlike any other.
If this is his idea of punishment, you would happily take it any day, night, or afternoon.
There’s something beginning to brew in your belly—something coiling tighter and tighter with each movement of Yoongi’s questing tongue. He’s mouthing languidly at your clit now, winding lazy circles around the little nub while two of his fingers stretch you open, and you’re beyond thankful that he’s chosen to wear smooth rings tonight. The pressure grows as he digs deeper, and he must sense your rapidly approaching high because he doubles his efforts to get you there, sliding in a third finger and sucking harder on your clit. You’re so, so close.
And then it all stops.
Yoongi straightens up and withdraws his fingers, licking his lips. His chin is shiny with your juices and his fingers are likewise coated in your sheen, but he seems otherwise unruffled as he adjusts his sleeves and takes in your gaping visage.
“You—!” you splutter, distraught. “How could… I was so close!”
He pins you in place with a look, the corner of his mouth lifting into a wry smirk. “I told you that bad girls get punished, doll. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now, do I need to repeat myself again, or do you want to tell me what you w—”
“I want your cock,” you blurt. “Please, Yoongi.”
At your shameless declaration, his expression shifts—turning into something dark and positively predatory. “Then turn around for me,” he commands, his voice soft but no less authoritative. “Hands on the hood of the car. I’m not planning on being gentle.”
A shiver dances down your spine as you comply, bracing yourself against the car. It’s a warm night, but the steel is still cool to the touch, smooth and hard beneath your palms. Behind you, you can hear Yoongi shedding his jacket and unbuckling his belt, a muffled grunt of relief escaping him as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans. You want so badly to turn around and look at him—to take in the way his hand grips his cock and memorize every ridge and protruding vein—but you resist the urge. Instead, you wait, your head bowed, for him to make his next move.
Much to your relief, you don’t have to wait long. He’s palming at your hips before you can even draw your next breath, inked arms winding around your body so he can squeeze at your clothed breasts. He takes his time fondling each swell, pinching your nipples until they ache, and you sense the satisfaction radiating off of him when he finally decides to rid you of your shirt entirely.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he rasps, tracing along your spine before splaying a hand at the base so that you’re forced to arch for him. Immediately, you bend to his will, wiggling your hips slightly as you move into position. His sharp intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and neither does the low hum of appreciation that bubbles up from his throat as he smooths a hand along the curve of your ass. You can’t help but preen a bit under his approval, and when Yoongi notices, he chortles and lands a teasing smack on your rear that has you moaning.
“Dirty girl,” he accuses, amusement lacing his tone. “You really want my cock that badly, doll?”
You can only nod, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind. He makes quick work of your soiled panties, hooking two thumbs into the waistband and tugging them down to pool around your ankles. Now completely bare, you can feel every inch of Yoongi’s lean torso as he pulls you close and positions himself at your entrance, parting your walls with near-tortuous deliberation.
“Faster,” you gasp, clenching around him in an effort to goad him into picking up his pace. “Yoongi, I want your cock so bad, please—”
The rest of your sentence ends in a garbled, choked moan. Yoongi thrusts forward with no preamble, filling you up to the very brim, and when he simultaneously finds your clit with his thumb, the jolt of pleasure is enough to steal all the oxygen from your lungs. He circles the sensitive nub between his fingertips with expert precision, and you can only whimper out his name as he starts up a steady rhythm, his mouth finding its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder and lingering there.
The tight coil of pressure is growing in your belly once more, and this time you know that Yoongi has no intention of stopping it. He’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, and you hear rather than see the strain in his jaw as he grits out your name and commands you to come, his thumb rubbing against your clit in just the right way to send you hurtling off the precipice and into white-hot bliss.
By the time you come back down, he’s getting close too. You can tell from the way his pace gets more and more erratic, and you pretend you don’t hear the I love you intermingled with the filth and praise he whispers into your skin. Instead, you let him palm your hips and tug you closer, sighing out his name and encouraging him to yes, come inside me and I love you too.
It isn’t until your combined juices are beginning to drip down your thigh and his cock is slowly softening inside you, that he huffs out a hoarse laugh. “You ruined the immersion,” he murmurs, pulling out and turning you around so he can kiss you properly. “I don’t think you’d tell a complete stranger that you love them, no matter how good the sex may have been.”
You smack his arm weakly, giggling. “Oh, shut up. You told me you loved me first, you know.”
Yoongi hums and presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Whatever you say, doll.”
Still smiling, you nestle closer to him, burying your face into his bare shoulder. Idly, you trace the scars littered across his chest—each one its own individual constellation, telling the story of just how long he’s fought against the tyrannical regime you live under. At the thought, your smile fades.
“I hope you’re not wrong about the plan,” you murmur, stroking the scar that’s just above his heart before moving to the ones that decorate his ribcage, the puckered flesh intermingling with the inky gladiolus blossoms he’s gotten tattooed there. One flower for each member of the resistance who’s lost their life—a permanent in memoriam. You follow the delicate outlines with a fingertip, committing each and every one to memory, and think back to all the rumors that say the leader of the resistance is the zombified old emperor, or Emperor Min’s bastard son.
Yet none of the rumors are as powerful as the one that you know to be the truth—that the leader of the resistance is just a man. A man with a good heart and a kind soul, who grew tired of living under the emperor’s relentless tyranny and decided to take matters into his own hands. A man who remembered his fallen comrades, and always kept his word, no matter how small or trivial a thing it might be.
“Come back to me when it’s all over,” you whisper.
Yoongi tilts your chin up gently, cradling your face in his hands as if you’re made of glass. “I will,” he whispers back. “I promise.”
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Marx: The kingdom is doomed, Meta Knight! I’ve poisoned the water supply!
Meta Knight: Actually because you poisoned the water supply we found out the the kingdom’s pipe infrastructure is really severely outdated, so thank you for bringing our attention to that millions of people couldn’t gotten really sick over the next few years.
Marx: ...
Meta Knight: Secondly because you snuck past the security system so easily, we found out that funds specifically for that security system were being embezzled by Treasure Dee, Armor Doo, and Bonkers, so we busted a major fraud ring.
Marx: [looks over to the side with a regretful expression]
Meta Knight: And lastly while the pathogen you unleashed does give people mild diarrhea, we found that it’s actually a great source of Vitamin C.
Marx: Okay whatever, take this! [throws ball at Meta, which explodes on him]
Meta Knight: [rotates his arm a few times] You fixed my shoulder.
Marx: GODDAMNIT-
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