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#repair café
robpegoraro · 1 year
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Weekly output: IFA's Repair Café, Candela's electric hydrofoil, connected-car privacy, Verizon mobile "NaaS," Senate vote fills out FCC
I know it was literally yesterday when I was writing about flying out of Dulles in a few hours. But having just driven back from Boston earlier tonight with a small cargo of heirloom furniture and decor, tomorrow evening I will once again off to IAD. As I did last September, I’m flying to Copenhagen to speak at the TechBBQ startup conference there. But this time I’m not heading home after that…
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nappilla · 1 year
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Comment organiser une fête sans déchet ?
Les fêtes sont des moments de joie et de célébration, mais elles peuvent également produire une quantité considérable de déchets. Les plastiques à usage unique, les emballages, les décorations jetables et la vaisselle en papier peuvent tous contribuer à l’accumulation de déchets. Heureusement, il existe des moyens simples de réduire la quantité de déchets générés lors d’une fête. Dans cet…
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haarlemupdates · 2 years
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Groot Pop-Up Repair Café in provinciehuis Noord-Holland
Groot Pop-Up Repair Café in provinciehuis Noord-Holland
Is je stofzuiger stuk? Heeft je overhemd een gat? Je speelgoedauto een kapotte band? Of mist je knuffel een oog? Op 15 oktober tijdens International Repair Day, organiseert de provincie Noord-Holland samen met drie lokale Repair Cafés, een groot Pop-up Repair Café in het provinciehuis in Haarlem. Want waarom weggooien als iets ook gerepareerd kan worden? Van 10.00 tot 14.00 uur staan diverse…
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meetlobby · 6 months
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caricature-of-a-witch · 7 months
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someone tell me how to fix the broken soles of my boots and when I say broken I mean "all the fucking way through"
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The glue I got specifically for this didn't hold out for even an hour even after wrapping the whole thing tight in cling wrap any letting it dry for 3+ days but I really really don't want to buy new shoes I hate buying shoes and I want to keep the stuff I have. I also don't want to have them resoled if I can avoid it bc that'll already cost half of what new boots would
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bauerntanz · 10 months
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Umsonst und drinnen
Umsonst und drinnen. Die Veranstaltungen in #Lingen an diesem Wochenende
An diesem Novemberwochenende gibt es in unserer Stadt gleich mehrere Umsonst & Drinnen-Veranstaltungen, auf die ich gern hinweise: “Bilderbücher entdecken” in der Stadtbibliothek Lingen, Karolinenstraße 10, 49808 Lingen (Ems) Heute von 11:00 – 12:00  mit Auszubildenden der Fachschule für Sozialpädagogik St. Franziskus. “Musik, Basteln und viel Spaß und Leichtigkeit sind das Rezept der angehenden…
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reasonsforhope · 3 months
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"The Netherlands is pulling even further ahead of its peers in the shift to a recycling-driven circular economy, new data shows.
According to the European Commission’s statistics office, 27.5% of the material resources used in the country come from recycled waste.
For context, Belgium is a distant second, with a “circularity rate” of 22.2%, while the EU average is 11.5% – a mere 0.8 percentage point increase from 2010.
“We are a frontrunner, but we have a very long way to go still, and we’re fully aware of that,” Martijn Tak, a policy advisor in the Dutch ministry of infrastructure and water management, tells The Progress Playbook. 
The Netherlands aims to halve the use of primary abiotic raw materials by 2030 and run the economy entirely on recycled materials by 2050. Amsterdam, a pioneer of the “doughnut economics” concept, is behind much of the progress.
Why it matters
The world produces some 2 billion tonnes of municipal solid waste each year, and this could rise to 3.4 billion tonnes annually by 2050, according to the World Bank.
Landfills are already a major contributor to planet-heating greenhouse gases, and discarded trash takes a heavy toll on both biodiversity and human health.
“A circular economy is not the goal itself,” Tak says. “It’s a solution for societal issues like climate change, biodiversity loss, environmental pollution, and resource-security for the country.”
A fresh approach
While the Netherlands initially focused primarily on waste management, “we realised years ago that’s not good enough for a circular economy.”
In 2017, the state signed a “raw materials agreement” with municipalities, manufacturers, trade unions and environmental organisations to collaborate more closely on circular economy projects.
It followed that up with a national implementation programme, and in early 2023, published a roadmap to 2030, which includes specific targets for product groups like furniture and textiles. An English version was produced so that policymakers in other markets could learn from the Netherlands’ experiences, Tak says.
The programme is focused on reducing the volume of materials used throughout the economy partly by enhancing efficiencies, substituting raw materials for bio-based and recycled ones, extending the lifetimes of products wherever possible, and recycling.
It also aims to factor environmental damage into product prices, require a certain percentage of second-hand materials in the manufacturing process, and promote design methods that extend the lifetimes of products by making them easier to repair.
There’s also an element of subsidisation, including funding for “circular craft centres and repair cafés”.
This idea is already in play. In Amsterdam, a repair centre run by refugees, and backed by the city and outdoor clothing brand Patagonia, is helping big brands breathe new life into old clothes.
Meanwhile, government ministries aim to aid progress by prioritising the procurement of recycled or recyclable electrical equipment and construction materials, for instance.
State support is critical to levelling the playing field, analysts say...
Long Road Ahead
The government also wants manufacturers – including clothing and beverages companies – to take full responsibility for products discarded by consumers.
“Producer responsibility for textiles is already in place, but it’s work in progress to fully implement it,” Tak says.
And the household waste collection process remains a challenge considering that small city apartments aren’t conducive to having multiple bins, and sparsely populated rural areas are tougher to service.
“Getting the collection system right is a challenge, but again, it’s work in progress.”
...Nevertheless, Tak says wealthy countries should be leading the way towards a fully circular economy as they’re historically the biggest consumers of natural resources."
-via The Progress Playbook, December 13, 2023
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icyminghao · 2 months
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pick me up!
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pairing: jaehyun x gn!reader ft. sungho x gn!oc genre: fluff, crack, established relationship warning(s): mentions of food word count: 1.8k
summary: the three times jaehyun has (unsuccessfully) tried flirting with you through pick-up lines, and the one time you did it back to him.
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ZERO.
“So, how did you win your partner over?”
Jaehyun looks up from his phone to see Sanghyeok raising his eyebrows at Sungho, a genuinely curious expression resting on his face. Jaehyun puts down his phone, ears peeled for his best friend’s reply.
Sungho puts his cup of coffee back onto the saucer, expressionless. “Pick-up lines.”
Sanghyeok suddenly lets out a series of coughs, seemingly having choked on his drink. Jaehyun pats his back repeatedly, sheepishly smiling at patrons from neighbouring tables at the café who had looked over due to the commotion.
“Pick-up lines? I didn’t think you’d be the type to use them to flirt,” Sanghyeok manages after calming down, “To be fair, I didn’t think you were capable of flirting at all.”
“Okay, first of all, that’s offensive,” Sungho clutches his chest dramatically, “Second of all, it works wonders. You can’t say anything, because I’m the one with a partner.”
“Really?” Sanghyeok huffs, turning to Jaehyun, “I don’t trust him. Does it really work?”
Jaehyun blinks.
“I’ve… never tried it before,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and Sungho’s jaw drops a little.
“Dude, you’re actually missing out,” Sungho slaps Jaehyun on the back, “You should try it sometime. I’m sure y/n’s reaction will be gold.”
Jaehyun hums, internally putting his thinking cap on. He’ll try it as soon as he goes home to you.
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ONE.
“Honey, can you pass me your watch, please?” you poke your head through the gap between your bedroom door and the doorframe to see your boyfriend sitting on his side of the bed as he uses his phone.
“My watch?” Jaehyun looks up. He’s about to get up to find it, but he suddenly stops, gears turning in his head as you walk over to stand in front of him, “How about I give you my time instead?”
You chuckle, having not expected such a reply, and reach over to boop his nose. “That was a good one, honey, but I need your watch now. I told the watch repairer I’d be down at his shop like, ten minutes ago,”
Jaehyun smiles at the physical contact, but scrunches his nose in confusion immediately after, his mission of flirting with you through pick-up lines completely forgotten. “Why are you bringing my watch to the repair shop?”
“Honey, you told me you wanted it cleaned last week, didn’t you?” you ruffle his hair, endeared by his forgetfulness.
“Oh, right! I did,” Jaehyun’s eyes light up, recalling his request. He doesn’t know if you noticed, but he’s very sure there’s literal stars in his eyes. You always take care of him so well, and he’s nothing short of grateful. “Thank you, baby.”
You’ve already left for the repair shop quite a while ago when Jaehyun abruptly sits up from his lying-down position, sighing in disappointment.
You didn’t react to his pick-up line.
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TWO.
“Honey, can you pass me the tomato sauce in front of you?” you nudge your boyfriend softly, eyes focused on the long grocery list in your hand.
You’d come to the grocery store with Jaehyun in tow, a result of your puppy-like boyfriend begging you to bring him along.
“It’ll be like a date!” he had whined, though you would have gladly taken him along without him trying his best to persuade you.
Upon hearing no reply for a beat too long, you look up from the list to see Jaehyun looking down at his phone, eyes focused and eyebrows furrowed.
“Honey?” you try, and sure enough, Jaehyun doesn’t respond, completely distracted by whatever is on his phone screen at the moment. You tilt your head in confusion. “Jaehyun…?”
“Yes!?” Jaehyun suddenly flinches, snapping back into reality. He looks between you and the grocery list in your hand and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Sungho texted me.”
You hum, gesturing for him to pass you the tomato sauce you’d requested a few moments ago. “Yeah? What are the both of you up to this time?”
“I was just telling him about the shirt I’m wearing,” your boyfriend replies, placing the tomato sauce into the cart he was pushing around. 
You spare a glance at the shirt in question. It’s a simple white tee that you’re sure Jaehyun bought in bulk a long time ago, and you struggle to pinpoint anything out of the ordinary. 
“What’s wrong with the shirt?” you ask, utterly confused.
Jaehyun’s back straightens, eyes practically sparkling
“It’s the material,” he whines, moving closer to you, “Feel it.”
You raise an eyebrow, but find yourself obliging anyway. You reach forward and pinch your boyfriend’s sleeve with two fingers, feeling the material. 
“There’s… nothing wrong with it?” you reply, contemplating whether or not to add a thermometer to your cart to check if Jaehyun has a fever. 
“There is nothing wrong with it,” Jaehyun grins, “It’s boyfriend material.”
You pause, processing Jaehyun’s words before realising that you really should have seen this coming with all the signs.
“Did Sungho teach you this?” you ruffle your boyfriend’s hair, turning to push the cart down the aisle. 
Jaehyun catches up to you immediately, a small pout on his face as he reaches over to push the cart instead of letting you do it. “He said he won Bailey over with this one.”
You laugh at the mention of Sungho’s partner, nudging Jaehyun with your shoulder. “Really? I’ll have to ask Bailey about that the next time we meet.”
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THREE.
“He told Jaehyun that? That’s definitely not how it went,” Bailey laughs as you recount your conversation with your boyfriend at the grocery store, “He cringed halfway through the line and refused to talk to me for a few hours because I teased him about it.”
You’re on a double date at the amusement park with Sungho and his partner, though with how you haven’t spoken a single word to Sungho and your boyfriend with the way the former pulled the latter aside as soon as all four of you met up and started whispering to each other like schoolgirls with secrets, you could say you’re practically on a date with just Bailey. 
“Sounds like Sungho to me,” you reply, before gesturing at the two men walking in front of you. “Any idea what they’re whispering about? We’ve been here for, like, an hour and haven’t gone on any rides.”
“Probably pick-up lines,” Bailey shrugs, “Sungho’s been telling me all week about wanting to teach Jaehyun some pick-up lines so he can ‘succeed where I failed’, though I really don’t see the point since you’re already dating him. I told him to teach Sanghyeok instead, but he just said Sanghyeok doesn’t ‘see the vision’.” 
This is news to you. You hum in response. “Huh, is that why he’s been using pick-up lines on me lately?”
Before Bailey can answer, the two men in front of you suddenly halt their footsteps and turn around, much to your confusion. 
“Bailey and I are going to get some churros, we’ll catch the both of you later!” Sungho grabs Bailey’s hand and briskly walks away from you and Jaehyun, with Bailey squeaking out a “We are?” as they follow.
“What’s that about?” you turn to look at your boyfriend. Jaehyun looks back at you with a sheepish grin. 
“I don’t know,” he replies in the most nonchalant tone he can muster, praying you don’t catch on to it (you do). “Let’s go ride the carousel!” 
You raise an eyebrow at his behaviour, but oblige anyway, turning to walk towards the attraction. 
“Wait!” Jaehyun suddenly raises his voice. You turn to face him, sheepishly bowing to passers-by who turned to look at the commotion.
“Your hand,” your boyfriend’s voice softens as he looks down at your right hand. “It looks heavy.”
“What–” 
“Let me hold it for you!” In one swift motion, Jaehyun interlocks your right hand with his left, swinging them back and forth as he leads you to the carousel.
You stifle a laugh, turning to look at his reddened cheeks as he continues tugging you along while looking forward, refusing to meet your eyes. 
You think you don’t mind Sungho teaching your boyfriend pick-up lines, if it means getting to see him flustered like this.
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Jaehyun wakes up from his nap to the smell of pasta.
He rolls over to face your side of the bed and reaches over in an attempt to pull you into his chest, only to have his hands find purchase on your pillow instead. Groaning, Jaehyun opens one of his eyes reluctantly, and sure enough, you’re nowhere to be found on the bed.
Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking around the room in search of you before realising that you’re probably in the kitchen judging by the mouthwatering smell of tomato sauce. He scrambles to get up, and starts shuffling towards the kitchen to see you.
“Baby?” Jaehyun’s voice is groggy from the nap, and you turn towards the sound from your spot by the stove to see him trudging into the kitchen. 
You smile. “How was your nap?” 
“Not good. You weren’t there when I woke up,” Jaehyun whines, immediately latching onto your arm. 
“Someone has to prepare dinner, honey, and we both know it’s not you,” you giggle, booping his nose. 
Jaehyun whines a bit more before sniffing. “It smells good.” 
You purse your lips in thought, a mischievous idea surfacing in the forefront of your mind. 
“Really? I smell something burning, actually,” you try your best to sound genuinely concerned, and Jaehyun falls for it immediately. 
“You do?” he straightens in alarm, looking down at the wok in front of the both of you. “It smells and looks fine to me.”
You grin, turning to him. “That’s because it’s not the pasta that’s burning, honey.” 
“Then wha—”
“It’s my heart that’s burning for you!” you mask the embarrassment with a quick peck to your boyfriend’s lips. Pulling away, you find him frozen in his spot, cheeks reddening by the second. 
He touches his lips with a lovesick expression and visibly deflates, throwing himself into your arms. “Baby, you can’t do that!” 
Your chest vibrates with your laughter, and Jaehyun smiles subconsciously, nuzzling further into your neck as you wrap your arms around him. “Do what? Use pick-up lines? You’ve been using them on me all week.”
Your puppy-like boyfriend reluctantly tears himself from your embrace to look at you, eyes widening. “You knew?” 
“Of course I knew, honey,” you pat his head affectionately, “They were horrible.”
Jaehyun huffs, burying his face in your neck once again. “I kept on using those pick-up lines because you wouldn’t react!” 
You chuckle, rubbing your hands up and down his back soothingly. “Well, how do you want me to react, honey? I’m already yours. You don’t have to use cringy pick-up lines to win me over.”
Jaehyun plants a kiss on your neck, then whines. “Stop flirting with me. I’ll fall in love with you.”
“Oh?” you play along, squeezing him tighter around you. 
“I’ll flirt with you every day, then.”
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a/n: bnd writer icyminghao is back??? hello.
masterlist
taglist (send an ask to be tagged!): @onedoornet @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @someonewhowantstobeloved @hrts4hanniehae
@wantmatthew @serejae @000-pawz @0310s
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anna-hawk · 6 months
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Dexterity
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.
Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k
Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk
Always time for Coffee series
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⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️
A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.
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Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.
You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be. 
Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.
The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.
You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.
As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.
Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.
That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.
You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.
He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.
“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.
“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.
You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck. 
“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.
You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.
“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.
“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.
“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.
“Can never refuse your coffee.”
You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”
You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.
“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.
“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.
You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.
“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.
“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.
“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone. 
That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.
“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”
You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.
“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.
You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.
“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.
You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.
“Is that a no?”
Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.
“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.
“‘m not playin', Baby.”
To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.
You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.
“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.
You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.
“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”
You say nothing, you can’t right now.
Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.
“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”
You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.
“You,” you breathe softly.
His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.
“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”
You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.
“Something… like… that…”
“Something?”
“Finger-fucking… me.”
He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.
“Something like that?”
Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.
The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.
Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.
“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.
Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.
“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”
“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.
“Yes!” you hiss, elated.
But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.
“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.
Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.
Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”
“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.
As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.
“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.
You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.
“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.
“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.
Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”
You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.
“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.
Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.
“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”
“But-”
“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.
You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.
“So… coffee?”
You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.
“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”
You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.
You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.
“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.
“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.
You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.
“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.
It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.
“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.
“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.
Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”
He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.
You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.
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nappilla · 1 year
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Comment les "repair cafés" encouragent la durabilité et la communauté ?
Le mouvement du “repair café” est un concept qui est de plus en plus populaire dans le monde entier. L’idée est de fournir un espace où les gens peuvent apporter des objets cassés ou abîmés et apprendre à les réparer avec l’aide de bénévoles. C’est un concept qui vise à encourager la réparation plutôt que le remplacement d’objets, dans le but de réduire les déchets et de promouvoir la…
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Workplace AUs
Different AUs taking place in the characters' workplace.
Office
Law Firm
IT-Department
Coffee Shop/Café
Bookshop
Library
Flower Shop
Music Store
Tattoo Shop
Sex Shop
Art Studio
Music Studio
Convenience Store
Restaurant/Diner
Bar/Pub
Bakery
Pizza Place
School/University
Fire Department
Police Department
Secret Agency
Auto Repair Shop
Hospital
Day Care
School/University
Vet Clinic
Acting
Modeling
Truck Driving
Journalism
Nanny
Wedding Planner
Party Planner
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Who do you want to see featured in the next part of the meet-cute?
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Sources for images: |Ace| |Kid| |Zoro| |Law| |Sanji|
The time has come! While we wait for the epilogue to Ace's Story and I get requests for my 100 followers event, I need you to start voting on who you want to see featured next in this series!
Here's the scenario, let's treat this like a multiverse! As if a different time-line emerges after reader has met all our main characters and we follow a different path. One where Ace has never happened and reader will find love somewhere else. A whole new story 🥰 So, who's next? Under the cut there's the summary and rom/com tropes I will use for each of the stories!
Kid - Kid is good with his hands. He knows how to fix things and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Your heart is completely shattered and broken and - you think - beyond repair. Can Kid help you fix it? He does love a challenge. Trope: Tsundere Kid/Acts of Service. Protective Kid, embarrassed, caring, gruff exterior, soft interior. 
Zoro - You and Zoro quickly fall back into your old friendship routine, with lots of banter and playfulness. Until you are threatened and stalked  - at the same time as your father is in the hospital recovering from his back surgery. Zoro volunteers to stay with you in your house to protect you in case something happens. Trope: Who did this to you? Zoro has very strong protective tendencies. 
Law - You and Law start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend. Tropes: Fake relationship/only one bed. Law with very soft dom tendencies, possessive and protective.
Sanji - You get a job working in Sanji’s café and quickly become very good friends. You feel yourself growing more and more attached to Sanji, all the while fighting against those feelings because he is a Vinsmoke and you wanted to cut ties with them completely. When Ichiji comes back into town to look for you and try to win you over, he’s surprised to find his estranged brother in the middle of nowhere. And being so cosy with you. The question is, when you find out that Sanji is not a distant relative (as he claimed to be) but the brother of your ex, how will you react? Tropes: Forbidden Romance. Sanji is his usual protective, sweet and caring self. 
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idiotcurls · 1 year
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IMAGINE THIS! Eddie is a musician, Steve is studying to become a teacher. Right before Steve's exams, he goes to a cafe to study. The Band arrives to play a gig and Eddie knocks over a glass of water with his guitar case.
Eddie has a up and coming band, they are playing small gigs all around the country. Even though they gathered up quite a following, they still haven't signed to any major label yet. Because they are not posers or whatever. The fans love Corroded Coffin, for the hard sounds with the clever thoughtful lyrics and also due to the fact that Eddie is a very charismatic frontman, who has the allure of an old timey rock star. Steve is sitting in the café, studying for his exams, writing frantically on his laptop, his glasses on the tip of his nose. Since he had a hard time in high school, he still thinks he is less than in the intellectual departmen, which is of course not true. And he has an amazing hand with the kids he is currently teaching, as student teacher. When Eddie and his band arrive at the venue, loud, all dressed in black leather, some instruments carried on their backs, he doesn't even look up. Steve was used to bands playing in the back of the venue. The café and bar area was only separated by a small glass door, so he was usually gone by the time, they got on the stage. But today the weather wasn't exactly on his side, he wasn't going to walk home in the pouring rain, risking a cold. It was too close to exam season. Eddie's hair was dripping wet, some of the droplets are running into his eyes. While Gareth is asking for someone to show them where to set up their stuff, Eddie ventures into the café area, to steal some napkins off a table. When he turns around to leave again, tapping over his eyes, the swing of his guitarcase knocks over a glass of water on a table behind him. Whos table you ask? Why, of course Steve Harrington's. What a terrible coincidence. Steve jumps up, shouting "FUCK" as he gathers up napkins trying to dry up the spilled water on his keypad. Startled by the cussing behind him, Eddie turns around and immediately recognises the damage he had caused. "Oh my god, I'm so fucking sorry, here, I'll get you more napkins, or a towel. Gareth!! Ask the waiter if he has a towel?!" Gareth looks up from his conversation with one of the staff member and just shakes his head in an annoyed fashion. Like Munson was up to some bullshit again and he wasn't going to be part of it.
Eddie is frantically bringing more napkins to the table, furthering Steve's annoyance at him. "Please.. just fucking stop, man." He is wiping his wet hands on his blue jeans looking at the laptop mournfully. "It's already fucking ruined. Shit." Steve sighs and walks around the table, a hand over his mouth, looking at the crime scene, wondering how he could afford another laptop that fast. But that long haired idiot, who knocked over his glass kept on babbling, ignoring the fact that Steve was in the middle of a crisis. "Listen, oh my god, I'm so sorry man. I read, that you shouldn't turn in on for bit after, uh, a spillage. Maybe it will dry? Or maybe we should put some rice on it? Maybe they have rice in the kitchen. Gareth?- My friend Nancy says that is bullshit, but-" "STOP! Please just go away." Steve sounded desprate. Eddie raised his hands in defeat, still holding some Napkins. "Okay. I'm sorry. I'm with the band, who plays tonight. You can message us for a refund, or repair.", he says more calmly and walks away. Steve watches the young man walk back to his band members, he assumed, at least. They all wearing the same sort of clothes. "What are you doing with all those Napkins?", Jeff asks bemused. "Just shut up, man." Steve is close to tears. All of his notes and work he already did ahead of time were on the laptop. He did not safe them anywhere else. He grabs his coat and cigarette and leaves the café to have a smoke. If anyone wants to take any of his other stuff, they were free to do so, everything was ruined anyway. He watches the band carry all their amps and instruments in, from a little distance. There was a quick glance exchanged between him and that long haired idiot. He looks like a beaten puppy with those big sad eyes. Shit, now Steve felt like an asshole. Back inside, Steve waited for a while, to turn on his laptop, like the idiot had said. Meanwhile he was texting his best friend Robin the details of the worst evening in his life. She is sympathetic and hopeful, that the gods were in favour of his laptop. And while she didn't think Steve was the villain of the play, he might have been a bit harsh. They guy with the curls didn't do it on purpose, to ruin his life. After a while Steve breaths in deeply and exhales. He presses the on button. The laptops starts. He types in his password. Loading. All of his open tabs and word documents appear. The laptop was alive. He tries to write some words and all the keys work. A sigh of relieve. The gods had mercy on his computer in the end. After thanking the universe, Steve's eyes wander to the other side of the café. Behind the glass door, the band is setting up and starting to do some sound checking with the technician.
The idiot is holding his guitar, strumming a few chords and signing the thumbs up to the tech girl, who nods, looking bored. Now he is singing along to his chords, his eyes closed, like he is feeling the music or something. Steve finds, the idiot has a very beautiful voice. And a handsome face. He sighs. With that new information the apology is going to become even harder. When the band is done soundchecking and Eddie climbs off the stage, bickering and laughing with his band mates, Steve decides to go for it. "You can do this, dingus." pops up on his phone, before he puts it back into his pocket.
When Steve walks up to Eddie, the others are still rumaging around. Before Steve can open his mouth to say a single word, Eddie raises his hand. "Let me stop you there. I talked to the guys. We have a door-deal with the venue. Depending on how much money we make, you can have some of the money to pay for the repair." Eddie chuckles. "Now we just have to pray some people show up." Steve raises his left eyebrow, listening to him. "It's not like theres no people coming to our gigs, it's just that it's raining, and it's a weekday, people are at work..." Eddie is rambling again.
"Hey, can I say something too?" Steve chimes in, stern but not unkind. "Uh, sure." Eddie answers. "My laptop is fine. Everything works. I wanted to apologize for being a dick." Steve takes down his glasses and puts them on the top of his head. "I was just very stressed. You didn't do it on purpose." Eddie looks down and smiles. He seems shy.
"I'm a bit clumsy.... yeah." Steve finds it almost funny, that a guy like him, who just confidently sang on a stage, becomes shy like that. "Well, don't worry about it. I just thought... It's fine." Eddie looks up at him. "Why dont you stay for the set? Be our guest?" Steve does not answer. "I'll put you on my bar-tab. Stay and listen. Here- have a tape." Steve looks at the tape he got handed. "I don't have anything to play this on..." "Don't worry. I'll make it worth your while. Get a drink. We start in 20 minutes." Everything in Steve says, it's better to go home. Sleep and study. But he does stay for the set, to see the charaismatic idiot in action.
and then they fall in love or something.
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devildomwriter · 2 years
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Obey Me Fun Facts 441-450
• Asmodeus chose Leviathan’s outfit based on a game leviathan liked. Leviathan gave asmodeus a three day lecture so Asmodeus would understand the game better but he escaped many times.
• Satan’s human world outfit was chosen specifically to not be suspicious if he went to a cat café
• When Barbatos got a temporary job at Hell’s Kitchen he was yelled at by a customer for being too polite
• Physical labor makes Asmodeus cry
• The necklace on Solomon’s human world outfit is a magical item
• Mammon and Asmodeus like to go clubbing together after part time jobs
• Diavolo is always worried he’ll bring shame on his ancestors so he visits the mausoleum often to remind himself of his responsibility
• Beelzebub thinks it’s incredible how quickly Solomon repairs magical items.
• Mammon was fired from Ristorante Six after selling all their silverware
• Asmodeus tried feeling up Barbatos on the dance floor so Barbatos pulled Satan to the dance floor and danced with him instead
431-440 • 451-460
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h0rr0rwhor3 · 2 years
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it looks good on you
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masterlist
pairing: connor x short!chubby!female!reader
summary: (keep in mind that this is a wip that i will finish upon request!) after the android revolution and the reuniting of connor and hank, it only became a matter of time before the two were attached by the hip; whether hank was sneaking connor into crime scenes or as connor tagged along with hank while he bar hopped. as connor dealt with his curiosity and self-discovery, his emotions only got more confusing once he met [y/n], well that is, once he laid eyes on her. you would think that he and hank now being regulars at the jazz bar and café she works at would make things easier for him, but it seems to only grow his anxiousness, and even, his frustration.
warnings: size kink, dom!connor, sub!reader, uniform kink(?), sexually frustrated connor
a/n: like i had posted previously, this is a wip that i have not been able to work on due to lacking the energy and creativity to finish it. so i will leave the decision to my fellow readers on whether or not y'all would like a part 2! so if you guys would like a part two please let me know 😁! i hope you enjoy and thank you for the support on my previous smut!
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it took a few months for society to recover at least a little bit after the android revolution.
protests against androids had only increased since then, many saying that the android revolution was the “resurrection of the devil”. cyberlife on the other hand had no choice but to let the deviant cases go, as the number of androids becoming deviant had increased rapidly during and after the revolution. many refunds were made to those who had immediately wanted to return androids, yet cyberlife had even requested to just let them go out, as the junkyard would only become incapable of proper cleaning at that point. cyberlife even started supplying android repair shops with extra parts, thirium, and even the more explicit parts that were originally dedicated towards eden club androids. these explicit parts were of course upon request privately.
ever since the revolution, connor really had nowhere to really go, this goes for many other androids. they had no money, clothing, shelter; so the only place connor thought of going was hank’s, as he didn’t seem to feel himself fit with markus and the others. he does not regret doing so either, as it seemed to boost hank’s mood rapidly. since then they have been inseparable, whether hank educated him on some of the best jazz songs, snuck connor into some crime scenes, or even gone bar hopping. it was a true bond.
recently both males had taken a liking to this place that had doubled as a jazz café and bar. it was android friendly which had definitely eased up connor. the owner ran the shop himself with the help of his niece.
her name was [y/n][l/n]. she was 21 and had been attending a university nearby. at least that was what connor had picked up on her. she had recently been working with her uncle as he had decided that her age was now appropriate enough to be working around alcohol. the legal drinking age was 21 after all. she had been under a few inches more than a woman’s average height and appeared more curvy. her hair framed her face in a way that almost made her appear fragile. her uniform dress reached down to her lower thighs, her short sleeves and collar outlined with a white stripe. the bottom half of her dress was pleated as her apron was tied wonderfully around her waist, defining her curves even more.
connor never identified such features actively before. hell. he’s never even spent as much time taking in the features of someone at all. when he had worked on deviant cases or looked around his surroundings it was usually a quick scan of the face and that's it. something about this woman had brought such a trance upon connor. the way she had gently moved parts of her body was such an intoxicating view. connor had no idea how to deal with these feelings of anticipation. these feelings of sublime.
hank had seemed to notice connor’s slight frustration. he had even picked on connor a few times for his obvious stares, comparing him to a lost puppy. it was hard to not notice the way he had looked at the female, you could almost see the holes his eyes dug into her, and hank wanted to put a stop to it.
-
“connor… look bud. it’s really not that hard. you just gotta talk to her, that’s all; ask her how she's doing, her favorite music/food… anything like that connor. just spark up a goddamn conversation with her for fucks sake. maybe even do your work with those... new fucking parts you got or some shit.” hank had been lecturing connor for the past 30 minutes now, growing frustrated with connor’s questions as he soothed himself with hard alcohol.
“well lieutenant, if it is so easy to speak to a woman, then how come you still have not m-”.
“you better not be going where i think you’re going connor. we’re talking about you here! not me. got it!?” hank immediately grew defensive with the question, causing a small smirk to grow on connor’s face.
“got it.” connor laughed softly, excusing himself to the living room as he left hank’s grumpy rambling to the kitchen.
the android settled himself on the couch comfortably as he closed his eyes, focusing on his thoughts. for once he could not analyze what the best approach would be. he could barely put together one attempt at befriending the woman. it was almost as if he was experiencing nervousness. anxiety. 
no. he was nervous. he could feel his thirium pumping through his body in a way that he felt like his system would drown. it was such an foreign feeling to him, his sensors tingling at the thought of being near her.
how she would look up at him, how she would smile softly as she speaks, how she would feel when she brushes against him, how she would feel in his hands.
he could almost feel his system overheat at the thought of the sensitive sensors in his fingers brushing over the fabric of her apron, of her dress, of her skin. the way goosebumps would grow on her skin with the cold sensation of his fingers. 
would her breath hitch?
would her body tremble at the ticklish feeling?
would she let out a soft sigh once the cold left her skin?
the thought of such vulnerable reactions aroused unknown feelings in connor. even though he didn’t need to breathe he felt his chest rising and falling shakily, the weight heavy on his throat. he could feel a tightening tension grow in his pants, startled by his body’s reaction. 
connor was aware of the effect arousal had on humans, but has yet to experience such a thing with his own after the installation of his new parts. the feeling of restraint caused him to grow frustrated. he glanced into the kitchen, seeing as hank had passed out on the table after a few drinks; it would have been unfortunate for hank to see him in such a state. 
getting up, connor made his way to the bathroom, gently shutting the door as he made his way to the lock, twisting the small knob. he thought of the best approach to handle his tension, shaking his head out of what would seem to be embarrassment. 
reaching his palm to his hardening length, he gently palmed his arousal, hips bucking into his hand. his head was thrown back as he closed his eyes, guttural, soft moans leaving his mouth.
just how would she act?
would she be obedient?
would the softness in her eyes drown with arousal as she was touched?
he unbuttoned his pants.
would she be embarrassed?
muffling her sounds with the back of her palm as she was filled with him. 
fuck.
would she grow a flustered expression at the thought of being with an android?
his pants and boxer briefs were pushed down mid thigh, his hand stroking his length sloppily. the sensors in his leaking cock driving him insane.
how would she sound?
how would she whimper as she's being gripped, as bruises form on her hips?
he could feel himself throb at the thought of easily manhandling her. gripping her plush hips, her thighs. the way her angelic expression would form such lewd expressions. his system stuttered as he neared his release, getting caught up in his own “imagination”.
he could only imagine how she would look wrapped in his coat.
her uniform hiked up her thighs as he towered over her.
the scent of their arousal mixed together.
the way she'd say his name.
fuck.
connor's hips stuttered as white stripes littered his hand, the lube-like substance staining his hand. his thirium pump shakily slowed down as he cleaned himself, washing off his hands. 
he glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in his expression, and gave his head a soft shake.
he really needed to settle himself, and figure out a solution, because this. this is not a solution.
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spicerackofblorbos · 2 months
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click me for the event information and masterlist!
Invisible String - Taylor Swift Levi Ackerman x gen!reader
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And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?
☾ content/warnings ➼ blood, death, canon world, reincarnation au, modern au, college au, soulmate au ☾ wc ➼ ~800 (yes I know I said drabbles I'M SORRY)
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Various earthy colors streak in your vision as you feel yourself catapulting through the trees. The harsh breeze of the cool summer air is the only nice thing about this moment, as you find yourself once again zipping from tree to tree as if your life depended on it – which it very much did.
Heavy stomping from behind you sends chills up your spine as you do your best not to look behind, something you know will be more of a detriment. But not that it mattered, because suddenly you feel your ODM cords snagging on something. Instead of flying to the next tree, you’re pulled up into the air.
With fearful and widened eyes, you are now staring face to face with a 14-meter blonde titan who held you up by the cords like a fish on a line, blue eyes piercing straight through you. As if you were nothing to it.
You whimper, your fingers desperately squeezing on your levers as if that would help your situation – it was obvious that your gear was damaged beyond repair. Your squad mate Eld is yelling your name, telling you to hold on. He was on his way.
Hold on to what, though?
“I’m sorry.” You cry out before you’re flung through the trees, back hitting flat against a tree branch before falling for who knows how long until you impact onto the muddy and leaf-littered forest floor.
You’re unsure of how much time has passed. You’re not dead, but the raspy and shallow breathing told you death was on its way. You couldn’t feel your fingers and toes, nor could you wiggle them. Weirdly, you felt no pain – whether that was from the injuries or shock, you couldn’t say.
You’re staring up at the treetops, sun rays breaking through the upper tree branches that sway in the wind. How pretty.
Someone is calling your name again. It seems so close, yet so distant, and while you wish you could look around to see who it was that needed you, your body fails to respond.
“Hey.” A shadow falls on your face. After a few slow blinks, your numb brain finally registers that it was Levi towering over you. His brows are furrowed, eyes downturned, cheeks red and lips frowning at the corners.
“Why do you look so sad, Captain?” You whisper, your voice hoarse. A few coughs escape you, red spraying all over your face and a little on Levi’s dirt-stained shirt.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here.” He whispers down at you. There’s a tremble in his voice, something you’ve never heard before. You watch him pull out his cravat and dab at your face, all while keeping his gaze on yours.
“No, I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ Another cough. Another spray of red.
“Stop. You did well.” He places a calloused hand on your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the warm tears that had slid down the sides of your face. The cold metal of his wedding band, the one matching yours, serves as a comfort as you feel yourself struggling to breathe.
“I love you.”
“I love you. You’ll see me again, I promise.”
-
Idle chatter surrounds you as you stare hard at the textbook in front of you. Your teeth bite down hard on your bottom lip, irritation evident in your expression. Passersby might think it’s because you’re studying a frustrating topic, but really, it’s because most would think to be quiet in a library.
Clearly college students don’t get the memo.
In a huff, you push yourself away from the desk you had claimed an hour ago and start for the in-library café for a caffeine boost. For once there’s no line and you sigh through your nose as you step up to the register, lips parted as you look at your tea bag options.
“What can I get you?”
The most deadpan tone you’ve ever heard comes from a man about your age, black hair almost covering his stark grey-blue eyes that pierce straight into you. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips in a thin line. He’s wearing a gray button down, the top button open to show a necklace with a single gold ring looped on the chain. Something pulls on your heart, followed by a strange tingling sensation throughout your body.
“Have I met you before?” You ask, dumbfounded. He feels familiar to you.
“No. I just transferred here.” You don’t miss the subtle flash of unknown familiarity in his eyes as well. “What can I get you?” He repeats.
“Uh, hot water please. And an earl grey tea bag.” You can’t stop staring as you pull out your student card.
“Great.”
You both stare awkwardly at each other for another minute after closing the transaction before he finally looks away, clearing his throat.
“Thanks.” You smile softly then turn on your heels in the direction of where you left your things.
After a few steps, a sudden visual of green fabric flapping in the wind makes you stop dead in your tracks. You blink hard and suddenly you’re back in the library. Twisting your head, you look back at the familiar barista, whose eyes were still stuck on you.
You hope you’ll see him again.
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