#today friendly prediction
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hausofwoo · 1 month ago
Text
graphic | mark lee
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pairing: mark lee x afab reader
word count: 6.6K
summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!
author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡
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working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.
you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.
on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.
you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.
the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.
so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.
sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?
you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.
you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.
the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?
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you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.
you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.
after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”
“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.
“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”
“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”
“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”
“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.
mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.
“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.
“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”
“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”
“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”
“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”
“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”
“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.
“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.
“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”
“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”
“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”
“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”
he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”
“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.
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for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?
you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.
you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.
you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.
“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”
you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.
he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”
he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.
“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”
“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”
“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.
“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.
“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.
“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”
you smile and accept it.
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your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.
you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.
like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.
“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.
“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”
“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.
“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”
“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.
“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.
you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”
“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“you didn’t have to do that—”
“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”
you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.
“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.
“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.
“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”
“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”
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you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.
sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin
you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.
sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it
you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.
the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.
“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”
“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”
“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”
“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”
“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”
“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”
“i will.”
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the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.
it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.
he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.
after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.
you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.
you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”
mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”
you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.
he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”
“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.
you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.
after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.
“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.
“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”
“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”
“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.
“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.
“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”
he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”
you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.
there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.
you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.
you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.
you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.
it’s you.
the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.
it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.
“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”
mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.
“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”
“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”
“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”
“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“of course i like it,” you say.
“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.
“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”
mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”
mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.
a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.
“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.
he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.
he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.
his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—
“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.
you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.
“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”
he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”
“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.
suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.
he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.
you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—
“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.
he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.
he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.
he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—
“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—
“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.
his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.
“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.
you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.
“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.
“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.
it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.
“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”
“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”
all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.
his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—
“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”
“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.
with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.
“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”
he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.
he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—
“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.
“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”
he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.
he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.
his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.
he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—
“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.
he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.
and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.
“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.
he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.
“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.
“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.
“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”
“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.
“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.
“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.
“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.
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a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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Imagine max x driver!reader with the whole fia and swearing situation they’d be such a power couple. Manifesting more max fics!! I love all your work esp little bitch and honorary wag💓
okay this is teeeny tiny piece but i just had tooo. max is too iconic
You're sitting beside Max, your boyfriend and teammate, in the press conference room after the qualifying session in Singapore. The air feels thick with humidity and tension, though most of the tension is radiating off Max.
His latest penalty from the FIA—a fine and community service for swearing —has him fuming. He made it very clear on the way in that he wasn’t going to play nice. Today was going to be a day of vague, shady responses, and you were more than happy to back him up.
The moderator starts with the usual question for Max about how he felt securing P2.
“It was fine,” Max replies, voice completely flat. No elaboration, no typical analysis. Just that.
The reporter stares at him, clearly expecting more, but Max leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as if daring anyone to push him further.
To your right, Lando is barely holding it together, his mouth twitching as he watches the whole scene unfold. You catch his eye and he shoots you a look like, Is this real?
The next question is directed at you. Something predictable about how you’re feeling being P3, your thoughts on tomorrow’s race strategy.
“Well,” you start, raising an eyebrow, “I guess the plan is… to go fast and not crash.”
There’s an awkward silence in the room, the journalist blinking at you as if he didn’t hear you correctly. Lando makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a cough, struggling to contain himself as you sit there, completely straight-faced.
“And the tire strategy?” the moderator presses, trying to steer things back into something vaguely professional.
“Use them until they wear out, I suppose.” You lean back in your chair, mimicking Max’s posture, crossing your legs casually as if you’ve just given a perfectly reasonable answer. Max looks at you with a cocky and proud smile, you discretely wink at him.
"Max, can you elaborate on your car's performance today?" another reporter tries.
Max tilts his head, considering for a moment. "It went forward when I pushed the pedal, and stopped when I hit the brakes. Very efficient, really."
You can't help but smirk at his response, and you notice Lando has given up on maintaining composure, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
The moderator, looking increasingly uncomfortable, turns to you again. "YN, how do you feel about potentially challenging your teammate for position tomorrow?"
You lean forward, adopting a serious expression. "Well, I've been told it's important to keep things clean on track. Wouldn't want to use any… inappropriate maneuvers."
"Absolutely. We're all about clean racing now. Very family-friendly." Max adds
The reporters exchange glances, clearly unsure how to handle this united front of sarcasm and vague responses. Lando, meanwhile, has resorted to covering his face with his hands, his shoulders visibly shaking with suppressed laughter.
As the press conference draws to a close, you and Max stand up together, your body language mirroring each other's. Before leaving, you turn to the room with a final statement:
"Just want to thank everyone for their thoughtful questions today. This has been a very enlightening experience. Almost as enlightening as some recent FIA decisions."
As you exit the room, hand in hand with Max, you can hear the burst of chatter from the journalists behind you, no doubt trying to decipher the subtext of your responses. Lando catches up with you in the hallway, finally letting out the laugh he's been holding in.
"You two are unbelievable," he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "I thought I was going to lose it in there!"
Max grins, his earlier tension now replaced with a sense of satisfaction. "Well, we aim to entertain," he says, giving your hand a squeeze.
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writtenbymoonflower · 5 months ago
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hello! I'm not sure if your requests are open, but could I ask for some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders with an autistic reader?
maybe reader has a meltdown because of sensory overload and they help her through it?
thank you so much! I love your writing xxx
thank you so much for requesting! poly!marauders x autistic fem!reader
cw: description of sensory overload, autistic meltdown/panic attack, brief mentions of unsafe stimming
943 words
By the time your building was in sight, you felt every ounce of adrenaline leave your body. You had been holding on by a fraying thread all day, taking every searing feeling of overwhelm in stride. Your hands were raw and scraped from digging your nails into your flesh, and your jaw was tight and aching from being permanently clenched. 
Usually, work wasn’t this stressful for you. There were difficulties for sure, but it was familiar and predictable. Today however, there had been a company mixer involving all of the branches of your company. The building was hot and crowded with bodies, everyone was talking over each other, there were new people constantly trapping you in mundane conversation, and it was all just too much. It felt like every aspect of the event was scheming for your demise. You made it, though. You were as friendly as you could muster and you hoped your simmering discomfort was mostly imperceptible to your coworkers. Unfortunately for you however, the come down was worse than the overwhelm itself. 
You kicked your pinching shoes off the minute you stepped through the door, wanting to rid yourself of all sensation. You rushed to your room to undress. All of your clothes were itching painfully into your skin and it was enough to make you want to scream. You tugged your blouse off, not even bothering to throw it in the hamper. Your hands were so shaky that you pinched your fingers in the zipper of your skirt. You were already close to tears, but when you punctured your stockings while tugging them off, it all caught up to you. You crumpled into a heap on the floor, shivering from the biting cold in the room. You rolled yourself into a ball as small as possible on the floor, shaking as tears rolled down your face. Everything was too much. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed like that, rocking back and forth and shaking your hands, as if you could shake off the crawling on your skin. In your overwhelmed state you didn’t notice the door open, or the footsteps rapidly approaching your room. 
“Baby?” A voice was panicked, rushing over to you and crouching on the floor. You recognized the smell first, Sirius’ woodsy and fruity scent. His hands reached out to grab you before quickly retreating, not wanting to add to your state. “Baby, did you hurt yourself?” You shook your head rapidly, still choking on sobs. You winced as Sirius yelled. “Prongs! Moons!” They appeared in the doorway almost immediately, recognizing the urgency in his voice. 
“James, get the blanket.” Remus ordered. They had seen this happen a few times before but it didn’t make them panic any less. It was difficult for them to see you in pain, especially when there was no visible injury to tend to. You were still shaking, biting your hand compulsively. Remus was firm but kind as he kept you safe from yourself. “Honey, I need you to be gentle, okay?” You didn’t respond but still obeyed. Soon, a warm and heavy blanket was placed over your shoulders, it helped to calm your shaking, but you were still crying. 
“Will a hug help, lovie?” You nodded, craving the pressure. James pulled you onto his lap and squeezed you tight. The compression was wonderfully grounding, as if you could feel all the pain being juiced from your system like a lemon. He released you too soon, but you knew he was just being cautious. You tended to not know when pressure was too much, especially when you were in this state. It wasn’t rare for you to have bruises on your hands from squeezing or sitting on them when you got stressed. Still, you now felt calmer. 
“Remmy, can you turn the lights off please? The buzzing hurts.” You winced. He scrambled up to do so, in a way you knew likely hurt his aching joints. Your brain began to quiet down, your system being cleansed from the unwelcome and intrusive sensations of the day. “Thank you.” You mumbled, playing with your fingers. 
“Don’t thank us, baby.” Sirius wrapped the heavy blanket further around your shoulders. “Did something happen today?” 
You shook your head. “Not really, just a bunch of little things. It was just a lot, I didn’t expect it to affect me so much.” You said the last part with a bit too much shame for the boys liking. 
“Sometimes you don’t know until it’s happening.” James said gently. “I’m sorry it was a hard day, lovie.” 
“Is there anything more we can do?” Sirius said restlessly. He hates that this happens to you, it makes him wish he could wrap you in warm, quiet darkness and hold you to his chest, shutting all the pain out. 
You thought for a second. “I think I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten yet today. I was too distracted.” You knew the boys were still feeling especially tender, since you weren’t scolded. 
“Why don’t we order a takeaway?” Remus suggested. “That way we can just relax for a bit.” He stroked your exposed knee with his fingers.
“I think that Greek place is open.” James said before you could answer. “I’ll get the menu.” 
“Do you wanna move to the settee, sweet girl?” Sirius wrapped an arm around your shoulders. When you nodded he helped you stand up and ushered you to the sofa, wrapping you in more warm blankets when goosebumps rose. James handed you the remote. 
“Pick what you want, lovie.” James sat on your other side, caging you in wonderfully. You were again covered in sensation, but this time it was welcome and comforting.
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kaszuma · 5 months ago
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Certainly Yours | Hoshina Soshiro
Part 1 of "Certainly Yours"
pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader
summary: you and soshiro had been friends for a while now. But sometimes he really tests those boundaries of his
warnings: none. Just light touches but nothing suggestive.
wc: 1,420
--
note: first time writing for Hoshina. Sorry if there are inconsistencies or mistakes.
--
Soshiro Hoshina had always been unreadable. Even in the most dire of circumstances, you were always one step behind at predicting the carefully planned steps he took whenever you had the chance of encountering him.
It was evident in the fact that his smile never seemed to reach the crinkles under his eyes. And that cat-like appearance of his, though slackened. Had always made you feel as if he had been observing things thoroughly from a distance. Watching with keen interest as if he knew more than he let others perceive him to know.
And today was no exception.
The constant proximity between each other had been…frustrating to say the least. Whether that would be brushing his shoulders against your own during official meetings. Or placing a steady hand on the small of your back as he moved across the very open spaces of the hallway. You couldn't help but sneak glances at the way his expression had not changed one bit. In fact, it looked rather bemused. As if ignorant to the little touches he'd stolen from you during work. Let alone the glances you two would share even when Captain Ashiro had been right in front of you. Discussing more important matters that surely the Vice Captain had not been listening to.
But to your surprise, he always did. And was usually the first to provide solutions whenever the captain would ask. Leaving you to be the one flustered as you had not been distracted by his knowing gaze.
Because of this, your mind was instantly on the lookout for his next scheme.
I mean who would blame you?
You couldn't help but think this was all another gimmick of his. Entertainment. Just like how he had taken interest in that new recruit they had gotten recently. His motivations are as sly as they are intriguing it seems. And the more you try to decipher his laid-back facade, the less information you get. Keeping his cards close to his chest, as usual.
The Vice Captain had always been like that. His earnesty was often hidden from prying eyes. Though very few were privy to it, there were only very few who were familiar to him. Even Okonogi; likely the one who stuck around with the two Captains, would just let out a sigh at his jubilant expressions.
It had only been a good few years since you had been deployed to work under the Defense Force. Tasked on maintaining the Combat Suits in the case that they needed upgrades, or maybe a few repairs. And since then, the Vice Captain of the Third Division's force had always hovered behind like a thorn on your side.
Close enough so that it's able to poke and scratch you, but far enough away that it doesn't overstay its welcome. Yet somehow you lingered for those touches to stay just a little longer.
His usual friendly quips and visits had been frequent. But they were always curt, his teasing would always leave you with heated cheeks before he would soon disappear as quickly as he came. Like a storm who came to pass by momentarily. He was sure to make a mess out of you.
But the tension had always been palpable between you and Soshiro. Especially now when he had just so happened to enter the premises of your Lab. Wearing that familiar Tight-fitting Combat Suit of his. Respiratory mask and all.
“Vice Captain.” you had smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having you grace me with your presence.”
“Just a maintenance check.” He replied just as quickly. Making you raise a suspicious brow.
“Oh really?” You had moved away from the desk. Neatly brushing away the stack of blueprints that had been piling up. Likely a courtesy from Izumo Tech who were your previous employers. “What's wrong with the suit?”
Hoshina had not wasted a second to step much closer to you. And though normally you would feel a little giddy from his proximity, you wasted no effort to move closer yourself. Hand against the coarse texture of his Combat Suit that hugged the hard ridges of his body. Willingly searching around for any such deformities in the armor. As even the slightest malfunction can mean life or death for frontliners like him. But alas, no such cracks were found. Leaving you to stare at his unwavering eyes.
“I don't see anything wrong with it. Can you tell me anything specific that I can fix up?”
Soshiro had hummed for a moment. Taking his time as he pretended to be deep in thought.
“I guess there's none that I can think of.” Soshiro had let out a soft chuckle. And although the mask had covered half of his face, you could tell that grin of his was definitely there.
“What? Then why did you even come here?”
There was a beat of silence before he spoke again.
“Aren't I allowed to visit a friend?”
And you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes. The clear faux reasoning of his was amusing at most. But it's definitely making you second guess yourself.
“Friend you say?” You had chuckled, leaning back on your chair whilst facing him. His form had towered over you who had been caged against the chair and his arms.
“First time I've heard of it.” You shrugged. More of a jest in your tone.
“Hey now, and here I thought we had something special.” He chuckled, displaying faux hurt.
And you couldn't help but be frustrated at the way he so meticulously words things.
Something special, huh?
If it were any girl, they'd probably start getting delusional from his words alone. But Soshiro was someone who had no trouble deceiving. Facades and all. And you knew better than to take his words at face value.
But if it were not a joke, then..
“Are we Friends?” You had asked again. Just to make sure that you had not been misunderstanding things.
And there was another moment of silence between both parties.
You didn't know exactly what came over you at the moment. It just blurted out, almost as if you had been so frustrated at the way he tiptoed around you. Any confrontation, any meaningful conversation would always be cut short as soon as it started.
And you wonder if you had made the mistake of mentioning the giant elephant in the room.
His expression is as unreadable as ever. And for a moment, you thought you had made a fool out of yourself. Maybe whatever hint he was playing at had all been in your head. As if you had convinced yourself somehow that his interest in you was something more. Something that could indeed grow special. But second-guessing is part of Soshiro's package. And you can't really trade one without the other.
And for a moment a sinking feeling had placed itself in the pit of your stomach. Like you had made a painfully unwise decision that would leave you embarrassed for the next seven years of your life.
But Hoshina had simply stared. It felt like only mere seconds before he leaned in. Hands gripping the arms of the chair you sat on. Effectively trapping you with his body. With no chance of escaping away from his answer.
And just as you are sandwiched between him and the back of the chair. His face had neared your ear. And you could hear the faint breaths from the mask he wore.
“I'm yours certainly. Whether you are mine is up to you.”
His voice had gone an octave lower. And it made you wonder if you were truly hearing him right.
Yeah, no. Friend was definitely not the right word for this. But the admission of it was harder to coax out of him than when you had internalized the thought. The only way to have him say it straight is if you yourself came in like a bull seeing red.
And you sigh at your own lack of subtlety. “Is that your way of asking me out?”
“Maybe.” The slight hesitation in his answer made you raise your brow at him. And you end up sighing, letting go of a breath you didn't know you were holding.
“Your delivery could use some work.”
“I know.” He spoke with an awkward smile. “Do I take that as a yes?”
You smiled. This time, intent on playing his game of cat and mouse. “Maybe.”
And god will you be the death of him.
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cow-smells · 1 year ago
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Decisions | Vinsmoke Sanji / Roronoa Zoro x reader
Summary: You and Sanji are friends. Just like you're friends with Zoro. When a misunderstanding pushes emotions to a boiling point, you're put on the spot to make a tough decision - who really is the man for you?
Word count: 1100
Warnings: none
A/n: this is going to be a choose-your-destiny type thing, where you can choose who you want to end up with! this first part is the prequel to that ~
you chose: Zoro , Sanji
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Read on AO3
“Here, like this.”
Sanji took to standing behind you, wrapping his arms around you to place his hands on yours, guiding you through the proper motions to chop a carrot as evenly as he did. You couldn’t help but notice how his biceps flexed against your own, how he smelled of the bath he took this morning, the light caress of his breath on your neck. It was nearly overwhelming. You had to hyperfocus on the task in front of you so to not zone out and chop off a finger.
The carrots now chopped, Sanji’s excuse to wrap himself around you was gone. Reluctantly, he took a step back; you weren’t sure if the sudden coldness you were feeling was disappointment at his lack of proximity.
“Okay,” he started, his voice a little shaken; you wondered – was that because of you? “breakfast’s about as good as done. Do you want to call everyone in?”
“Sure,” you agreed, earning yourself one of Sanji’s beautiful, deep-dimpled smiles.
Gathering the crew for breakfast was rarely a hassle; you were often tasked with the mission after helping Sanji prep breakfast, and so, you already knew everyone’s routines and where to find them. Luffy was usually nearby the kitchen somewhere, ready to pounce on breakfast the moment Sanji permitted; Nami could be found on deck, drawing maps of where you’ve been; Usopp was a bit less predictable, but he’d usually find you as you were making the rounds. And then there was Zoro – which, you learned, was not a morning person.
While Sanji was up at the crack of dawn, already dressed to the nines and on his feet working in the kitchen, Zoro would sleep in until forced out of bed. They really were polar opposites.
This morning was no different; you knocked twice on Zoro’s door before letting yourself in. You smiled at the sight of his sleeping form, splayed across the bed, limbs tangled in his sheets – so unlike the proper way he held himself during his waking hours.
Perching yourself on the side of the bed, you lay a hand on Zoro’s shoulder. He opted to sleep on his stomach, and you couldn’t help but be appreciative of the sight of his muscular back, shaped by the hours of training he put in daily. “Zoro,” you called calmly, caressing his upper back in what you believed to be a friendly manner. “Hey, it’s time for breakfast.”
Zoro mumbled incoherently in to his pillow before shifting to throw an arm around you, his eyes still shut peacefully. “Zoro,” you laughed, being tilted on to him. “come on, it’s time to wake up.”
Finally, Zoro responded. “Mm. Sleep better.”
“Better than Sanji’s cooking?”
“Yes,” he deadpanned. You should have seen that coming. After a short pause, Zoro opened an eye, taking you in. “Did you cook?”
“I helped.”
“Fine.” With that, Zoro threw off the sheet that was covering him, hopping out of bed in surprising speed. While he’d usually sleep in trousers, last night was hotter than usual, and he seemed to opt against them today.
“Sorry,” you apologize, seeing Zoro in nothing but his boxers. You stood up to make your way out of the room when Zoro interjected, “What’s the rush? I’ll walk with you,” as he pulled on a pair of pants. He grabbed a button-up and followed you out of his room, threading an arm in to his shirt.
You stopped dead in your tracks as you came face to face with Usopp. You could see from the way he was looking at you two, just what he was thinking. You both were leaving his room quietly early in the morning, Zoro being half undressed. Usopp’s gaze jumped between you and Zoro, his mouth falling slightly open, trying to think of how to express himself.
Zoro, however, didn’t give him the opportunity. “Usopp.” Zoro greeted sternly. Zoro then placed a hand on your lower back, maneuvering you to keep walking, leaving a confused, suspicious Usopp behind.
Usopp was the last to join you all for breakfast. When he had finally arrived, the expression he wore was one of slight terror, or maybe just pure disbelief; a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the crew. Usopp took his place sitting opposite Nami, who wasn’t afraid to just ask – “Usopp. What’s up with your face?”
Usopp, reluctant to vocalize at this place and time, opted for giving Nami a wide-eyed look before raising his brows and shifting his eyeline between you and Zoro.
If that was meant to be a discreet message from himself to Nami, it failed, because even your oblivious captain had picked up on the cue – “What’s going on with y/n and Zoro?”
You could see Sanji tense visibly, his eyes growing wide. Zoro, however, seemed completely unbothered.
You could see the panic rise on Usopp before he blurted out, “Zoro and y/n are sleeping together!”
You, Luffy and Nami all shout – “What?!” to varying degrees of emotion. Strangely, Zoro doesn’t protest.
Then, a chair falls back to the floor. Sanji was on his feet, his hands fisted. You knew him well enough to know how mad he was just from the way he held himself.
“No.” Sanji said, his voice almost a growl. Slowly, he picked up his gaze from the floor to Zoro. “This… This is the one thing, I refuse to lose to you. I won’t let you have her.”
“Sit down, cook. This doesn’t regard you.” How Zoro could be so unbothered right now, you had no idea. Why wasn’t he clearing things up? Was he – was he okay with the others thinking you were together?
You could see Sanji flaring up – there was a fight about to break out, you were certain about it. “Sanji, I literally spent all morning with you.”
Instantly, Sanji’s rage melted away. Sanji made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to him. “That’s right. I shouldn’t be listening to this nonsense when I know I’m the first person you see when you wake up.”
Zoro’s brow twitched at that. “What are you saying, cook?”
Looking more smug than need be, Sanji replied, “What do you think, mosshead?”
“Enough with this already!” Nami yelled, far too tired with the duo’s one-upmanship. “You’re talking about a real person here, not a toy. Ever think to ask her how she feels, what she wants?”
“Yeah, y/n.” Zoro stood, and the look he was giving you could set you ablaze. Sanji’s arms around you tightened. “What do you want?”
you chose: Zoro , Sanji
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oracle-of-dream · 8 months ago
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Favorite Seat
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Minors DNI
Summary: Jay never complained when you’d sit on him, for comfort or pleasure. But sometimes, Jay would almost beg you to sit on his lap.
Warnings: Male Reader, Dry humping, PDA, Inscure Sunoo x Sunghoon, Cumming untouched, Slight Exhibitionism
Word count: 1.9K
“Are you ready, babe?” Jay called from downstairs as he paced the living room. He was already dressed for the day out with you.
Jay agreed to go see his friends today and they all encouraged him to bring you. It would be the first time you’d meet them, and he was more than a little anxious.
You walked down the stairs, “just finished. Relax, Jay,” you assured him.
The look in his eyes was a mix of pride and anxiety. “You won’t be cold or anything? I can bring my jacket,” Jay didn’t wait for a response as he was already moving to the closet to get his jacket.
“Hon, I think you’re overreacting. It’ll all be fine,” you kissed his cheek as he brought the jacket to you. “I know everything will be fine. As long as we’re together, tonight will be great.”
Jay nodded his head, his slicked-back hair softly shaking. “You’re right, I don’t know why it’s bothering me so bad. Maybe I just need to breathe,” Jay pulled you into his embrace by the waist as he breathed in your scent. “Better already,” he chuckled as he let you go. He awkwardly shifted in his pants, pulling them up while also raising one leg.
“Really? Hard from just a hug?” You teased.
Jay’s ears went pink, “You just do something to me… I didn’t mean to.” As you reached down to touch your boyfriend, he caught your hand, “Y/n, we can’t! We’re going to be late…”
“We can be quick,” you lean your body against his. His hands automatically fell onto your hips as he felt you grind against him.
“N-No! We can do that later,” Jay struggled against you.
You backed off, “Okay if you think you can hold on. Then I don’t mind.” Jay is the kind of person who was always honest and true to his ideas, so if he promised something later then he’d keep that promise. But you couldn’t help but feel a little want to pounce on him when he was being so cutely vulnerable.
Jay drove you to the meetup. It was a cool restaurant he picked out, one that the two of you had been to before so he knew there would be something you liked. Jay was a nervous planner, down to even who’d arrive in what order. And he was rarely wrong too.
First was Jungwon. He was a shorter boy, with a thin frame but you could tell he was in shape. He was friendly and smiled often, what stood out to you was his bright red hair and how hard he laughed when telling goofy stories.
Next was Sunoo and Sunghoon. A short king and his tall prince. You didn’t want to assume they were a couple, but Sunghoon’s energy towards Sunoo was extremely different from everyone else. Jay would have to fill you in later.
Heeseung, Jake, and Ni-ki came last. Heeseung was the one who had to pick the other two up, so he’d usually end up being late. Especially because Jake would sleep for too long.
After everyone arrived, the food Jay had ordered when you’d gotten there was just arriving. He’d ordered something you mentioned was good from last time as well as new dishes you wanted to try. The others weren’t too picky so they were fine with everything that was brought out.
You were seated on the patio, there was a heater near your chair in case you got cold. Jay also offered his jacket to you four times, probably trying to predict when you’d eventually ask for it.
Sunoo mentioned needed to go to the bathroom, and you felt the urge to go with him. So the two of you, plus his shadow went to the bathroom. Sunghoon didn’t have to go, so he waited outside next to the door.
While washing your hands, Sunoo spoke to you, “So you can Jay, huh?”
“Yeah! What’s the story with tall, pale, and eyebrows outside?” You pointed at the door but whispered hoping Sunghoon wouldn’t hear you.
“We’re an item too,” Sunoo shyly confessed, “None of the members know directly yet, but I have a feeling that Sunghoon isn’t very subtle…”
You shook your head, “I’m afraid he’s exposing you hella.”
Sunoo shrugged, “Well we’re happy. And I’m glad there’s another couple in the group! It felt sorta awkward being the only couple, so we never tried to show it in front of the others…”
“Don’t be shy! Everyone seems nice, and I’m sure everyone would be cool. If you want, I’ll show some PDA to Jay a little too,” you winked.
Sunoo mulled it over, his fingers pinching at his sleeves, “You’d really do it with us?”
You nodded, “Yeah!”
You knew Jay wasn’t much of a PDA person, but he also wouldn’t deny you if you approached him. “Just be natural and it will come to you, and Sunghoon will pick it up,” Sunoo followed you out of the bathroom and Sunghoon followed the two of you back to the table.
Jay looked up at you expectantly, opening his jacket a little. Offering it again…
You whisper to him, “Let me sit with you.”
Jay didn’t hesitate to scoot back and let you sit on his lap, but you could feel his nerves spiking at you approaching him so suddenly. You gently sat in between Jay’s legs as he laid one hand on your thigh and the other on the arm of his chair.
No one said anything, Jake poked Heeseung and pointed at the two of you which made him look up from his food. The two of them smiled at each other, exchanging looks between each other.
You watched Sunoo as he looked at you. Giving him a wink of confidence, you nodded for him to try being physical with his boyfriend.
Sunoo nodded gently and put his hand on Sunghoon’s leg, near his hand. Sunghoon’s expression moved to surprise as he looked at Sunoo for confirmation. Asking if it was okay to touch him.
They exchanged glances, and Sunghoon took Sunoo’s hand in his. His smile was big and didn’t fade, while Sunoo kept interacting with the others.
It was so cute watching them slowly scoot closer together until their chairs were touching. You even caught a glimpse of Jake leaning on Heeseung, which piqued your interest but you decided you’d meddled enough. Jay was getting more comfortable with everyone in front of you. He let his hand sit on your hip and would rub your side to make sure you’re okay.
After the food came the drinks. It had been a while since Jay had drunk with friends, and you’d never seen him drink with his friends.
Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon drank the most. Jake tried but wasn’t keeping up, with Jungwon swapping his drink for juice when he wasn’t looking. Ni-Ki and Sunoo entertained themselves by messing with their drink buddies while you sipped at your drink. You felt it was probably best you didn’t get yourself drunk in front of everyone on the first time you met them…
It wasn’t until Jay lifted you and placed you closer to him that you felt how hard he was. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was sneaking in friction with your ass as he moved in his chair. Nothing to show the others but you could tell he was going to be a handful. You moved back to your chair, claiming it was so he didn’t spill any alcohol on you, but Jay was saddened by not having you with him.
Sunghoon ended up pulling Sunoo out of their seat and into his lap, sitting him on one of his legs. His arm locked around Sunoo’s waist. Sunoo tried to not think about it, but the pink hue in his ears showed how much he was enjoying it.
Jay leaned over to you, “How come they can sit together and we can’t?”
You smelled the alcohol on him, “it’s so you don’t make a mess, baby.”
Jay huffed, “I wouldn’t make a mess.”
You nodded, “Sure, hon.”
Jay leaned back and started man-spreading, almost displaying his bulge for his friends. He wasn’t usually the needy type but drunk Jay sure was. He was almost begging with his eyes for you to sit on him again.
“You’re not going to let this go are you?”
He shook his head, “No, I’m not.”
You sighed as you moved back to his lap, Jay catching you as you moved down onto him. He pulled you close and held you tight, his hardness poking at you.
You turned, “No funny business.”
Jay giggled at you, “You love funny business,” he pushed you down onto him as he pushed his hips up. He groaned in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s your fault anyway… It hasn’t gone away since earlier.”
He’d been hard since you left the house? You smiled to yourself, prideful at his love for you.
Jay kept himself pleased by occasionally rubbing against you, but his acting was spot on. No one seemed to notice anything, especially with the other two drunk boys at the table.
Sunghoon started bragging about how amazing of a partner Sunoo was. Jay chimed in mentioning you were the perfect partner. Then Heeseung casually mentioned Jake was better than you and Sunoo combined, leaving the group silent while they processed what they’d just heard.
Jake was the first one to react. “What!? Heeseung, why would you say that, we’re not- Guys we’re not a couple, it’s not like that!” Jake tried to defend himself but Heeseung made it pretty clear he wasn’t to take back what he’d said. He sealed his sentence by kissing Jake on the lips. Then Sunghoon kissed Sunoo.
Jay turned to you, “well?”
“Well, nothing. We’re not here to show off we’re a couple, baby.”
Jay’s shoulders slumped, “Not even one?”
With a sigh, you kissed Jay. His hand pulled you into his pelvis, taking advantage of your position, while his other hand held you to his lips.
Over half the table was making out with each other and Jay was tongue fucking you in front of his friends. You were feeling it until you felt Jay tense and shudder.
You pulled away from him, and spoke in a whisper, “Did you?”
Jay nodded, “I’m sorry, it just- happened.”
“How bad is it?”
Jay moved to let you see while using you to block everyone else’s view. There was a dark spot forming in his denim, and getting bigger.
“Are you still going!?”
Jay bit his lip, holding himself together with strands of sanity. He could only look up at you with slight shame.
You checked on his friends. They’d stopped kissing, and Jungwon and Ni-ki sat laughing at everyone. Sunoo was scolding Sunghoon for being embarrassing. Jake was still trying to deny anything while Heeseung looked like he was trying to dive in for a second round.
This would be the best time to leave.
“Hey guys, it was so awesome getting to me you all, but I think Jay’s ready to go home now,” you announced to the table.
There was an overall mumble of agreement and understanding.
The sober people figured out rides for everyone. You stopped drinking early on and didn’t even finish your drink, so you’d take Jay. Ni-ki would take Jake and Heeseung. Sunghoon and Sunno would ride with Jungwon since both seemed a little too distracted to drive safely.
Everyone went their separate ways as you helped Jay to his feet, covering his pants with his jacket and your body.
In the car, Jay kept whispering how much he loved you as he drifted off to sleep.
At least meeting his friends was interesting…
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cepheustarot · 10 months ago
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Your future love relationship: with whom and what will be
Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.
Paid readings
Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.
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Pile 1: This person will look strong, fit, most likely he often does sports and therefore he looks muscular. But in addition, he also has a strong inner core, he endures all stressful situations, solves all problems, he is not of those who give in to emotions, it is important for him to first deal with problems, things. He can also be called a determined man and all his achievements he achieves through hard work, through the efforts he has put in, he does a lot to realize himself, his desires. Self-fulfillment in life is just as important to him! This person is not only able to work well, but also to rest well, he really knows how to unload their head from complex thoughts and enjoy the moment without burdening himself with problems. It can also be called the soul of the company, as it emanates the aura of a friendly person, with whom it is easy to enter into a dialogue and can be discussed anything, it is easy for him to maintain a dialogue with anyone. In addition, he is energetic, active, he can have quick speech and active facial facial expressions, he can walk fast or do something quickly. He has leadership skills, he is able to lead people, he is able to work in a team, he is ready to take responsibility for his actions. 
Your relationship with this person will be very strong and stable, you will trust each other, maintain, together cope with difficulties, you will feel that you have become family to each other, you will have a strong connection between you, You will achieve much together. in addition to that you will have an understanding, your relationship will not be deprived of passion, playfulness, between you will be a lot of romance and flirting. 
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Pile 2: I’d like to point out that maybe your partner will be younger than you! Or he can act like a child at times, be naive at certain points, but these details are not critical and should not prevent your relationship from developing. The person himself is quite lucky, successful, all his beginnings and new cases are accompanied by success. I would also call him unpredictable, his actions and thoughts are difficult to predict, as he has the traits of an adventurer and, figuratively speaking, today he will want to go to the other end of the world, and tomorrow will conquer the mountains. I mean, he’s pretty easy-going and he’s very easy to accept that kind of offer. By virtue of his character, he constantly gets into various stories, from which, of course, he gets out, because fate is on his side. Also this man is not deprived of romance, he quite openly shows his feelings and his love, a lot of flirts, give a lot of gifts, a lot of making nice gestures. The person himself is also emotional, he can quickly change mood. He is quite young and inexperienced, so he does not have enough experience of life, but nevertheless he is open to everything new in his life, in this respect he is quite bold. 
Your relationship with this person at the beginning will be filled with romance, you will be constantly together, as you are deeply in love with each other and without the presence of anyone near you will quickly miss each other. You can even idealize each other during this period! However, over time your sense of obsession will fade away and only love, warmth and affection between you will remain, you will be able to exist together, complementing each other, and separately, continuing to do your business. 
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Pile 3: The person himself can be closed, it is difficult for him to open up to people, he is not inclined to show a lot of emotions and tell about his feelings, just it takes a lot of time to trust another. He has a realistic view of things, he tends to objectively assess the situation, relies on logic and facts, rather than on feelings and intuition, in the dispute it is important to prove his point of view rather than show empathy and look at the situation from the side. He can criticize people, but he is also self-critical, has high demands on himself and people, he is perfectionist, tends not to believe in himself and his powers, so he tries a lot to achieve results. Perhaps he’s still a troubled man, prone to thinking too much. He is also one of those who is willing to help people, extend a helping hand, support, he is happy to share his experience and advice, he is generous, honest with people, he appreciates people close to him. 
Your relationship will develop rapidly with this man, you may have common goals and plans and you will achieve them, you two will succeed! But I see here you may not see much of each other, you may meet from a distance and you may often miss each other. But at the same time you will be sincere in your feelings, you will love each other. 
Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤
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anexperimentallife · 10 months ago
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EDIT: CRISIS AVERTED, THANK YOU!
Interracial US family w/ disabled autistic dad and toddler needs to get to the US for medical treatment
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(New post because the old one was getting LONG with the updates. Details are under the "read more" to save your dash, with updates in the notes.)
TL;DR: If I'm going to live long enough to watch our daughter grow up, we need to get back to the US and get set up in a disability-friendly place where I can use my medical benefits.
Although I was already disabled (autism, adhd, and spine, joint, and head injuries), my health was stable--until four bouts of COVID left me immunocompromised, and utterly destroyed my health (including damage to my heart, blood clots that damaged one eye, neurological and joint issues, etc.), and although we started off fine, we've been hammered with one crisis after another, both medical and financial, that no one could have predicted.
Until we have enough to get back to the US, a chunk of whatever comes in has to go towards medical care that can't be put off, so the sooner we can reach critical mass on that, the better.
If you can help, or reblog, or share the links on other platforms, we'd be grateful!
The "Donate to Little or None" Paypal donation link takes the lowest fees, I think. (Kept the same link from when we were fighting to get our daughter's birth certificate fixed so we could get her citizenship affirmed.)
Then there's Ko-Fi:
And my little sister started a GoFundMe for us!
EDIT: The donation links above still work, but I removed the GoFundMe link.
IF YOU WANT ALL THE DETAILS SEE THE "READ MORE."
(There's more in my "rob gets medical" tag if you want a blow by blow account of how we got to this point over the past few years, but this is the gist.)
HOW IT STARTED:
I moved to the Philippines six years ago, after the deaths of my adult sons, in part to make my disability payments stretch further. Shortly afterwards, I was joined by my now-wife @thesurestthing (also from the US) for what was supposed to be a visit, but which turned into a permanent arrangement.
After I got a contract to license an old story for a mobile game (which tripled our income*), we found out we were having a baby, which was fine, because despite my disabilities (autism, adhd, two spine injuries, traumatic brain injury, a herniated esophagus, joint issues, etc.), my health was stable, and thanks to the contract, we were fine financially as well.
HOW IT STARTED GOING DOWNHILL:
Zoey's pregnancy was complicated, requiring two hospitalizations, and our daughter's birth was complicated, too--requiring a C-Section--which tripled our hospital bill. A few weeks after our daughter was born, the aforementioned contract was canceled without warning. THEN, when we tried to register our daughter's birth with the US embassy, we discovered an error on her birth certificate that left her stateless, and which took nearly two years, all our savings, and a fundraiser (thank you, generous people!) to resolve. Combined with medical expenses, that left us in a lot of debt.
A brief summary of went else wrong (leaving a lot out for brevity's sake):
I got COVID three four times during all this, became immunocompromised, and developed a slew of other medical issues (heart damage, eye damage and temporary facial paralysis from blood clots, persistent infections, a worsening of my joint issues, neurological issues, etc.) as a result of Long Covid.
I've had to be hospitalized a couple of times, undergo surgery, and was on an oxygen machine twice--once for an entire month, while I was bedridden. As of 24 January, 2024, I'm still recovering from my fourth bout of covid, which started at the beginning of October 2023.
There's a lot more, but you get the idea. COVID has completely wrecked my health, including tearing up my immune system.
And yes, I'm as fully vaxxed against COVID as one can be in the Philippines, with all available boosters, but again--I'm immunocompromised, plus they don't have the vax for the newest variant here yet. Zoey is vaxxed, also, and as a result, her bout with covid was extremely mild. El isn't vaxxed yet because they won't give the covid vaccine to kids under five here, but she's been able to share Zoey's antibodies from breast-feeding--which is apparently a thing.
The only way we can see for me to stay alive long enough to watch Eleanor grow up is to get back to where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits**.
WHY SO MUCH MONEY?
First, while we're still here, we need to pay for whatever medical care can't be put off. Plus, since I'm now immunocompromised, we have to get LOTS of vaccinations before we have to spend 24 hours or so in crowded planes and airports.
Second, we're going to be arriving with only what we can carry with us on the plane, and we'll need to get into a place near a VA hospital that I can easily get around in while I'm recovering from surgeries and getting various treatments. We'll need to pick up some secondhand household goods, and some kind of used transportation (because, you know, it's the US, where you kind of need a vehicle to get around).
We'll also need enough on top of my and El's disability payments to get by for a couple of months while Zoey looks for work. And all this is while we're still paying off the debt from the stuff I mentioned above.
So we're figuring that unless we catch some very lucky breaks, it'll probably cost between 20K and 36K altogether.
(We can't simply stay with friends when we get back, because literally every single close friend we have in the US with extra room and who lives close to a VA hospital has cats--to which I have a severe anaphylactic reaction. As in my entire respiratory system shuts down, and I have to be rushed to the ER to keep from dying; this has happened more than once. The only way I can be around cats is if I'm on immunosuppressants, and my immune system is ALREADY compromised, so I CAN'T do that.)
So again, if you can kick in, or reblog, or post our crowdfunding links (or the link to this post) on whatever other platforms you use, we'd appreciate it.
(*When I told social security about it, they said I could keep getting disability, too, because licensing IP rights didn't count as work income, and since it was a Moldavian company, it also fell under a special tax clause for getting paid by a foreign company while living overseas, so no taxes on it, either. )
(**VA benefits--I was a cold warrior in 1980s Germany. It was less than forty years after WWII, there was a lot of sabre-rattling--some of it nuclear--and we were there as a deterrent to prevent in Germany the kind of thing that's happening in Ukraine right now. Disclaimer because I'm tired of people accusing me of "invading" folks in the early 1980s when I was a dumb, heavily propagandized pre-Internet kid fixing generators in Europe. I wouldn't join today even if I could.)
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pin-k-ink · 6 months ago
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glyph // terushima yuuji
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tw ⇢ tattoo artist!yuuji, fingering, dirty talk, biting, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, mild overstimulation, manhandling
wc ⇢ 4.9k
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The doorbell chimed with a cheerful tinkle as you stepped into the cozy tattoo parlor. Despite having made this particular pilgrimage several times before, you still felt a ripple of anxious anticipation as you glanced around the warm, dimly lit space.
Behind a vintage wood-and-glass counter stationed just inside the entrance, stood the compact, heavily tattooed owner giving you a welcoming grin and a lazy two-fingered salute.
"Here for another bit of my world-class ink?" Came the familiar raspy tones, clearly modulated to broadcast over the steady thrum of nu-metal currently filling the studio.
You answered his jovial greeting with an easy grin of your own, sidling up to lean casually against the front counter's lacquered surface. "Damn straight. Though if it ends up being subpar work like last time, you're gonna have to give me a freebie make-good," you shot back with a wink.
Terushima scoffed loudly at the playful dig, rolling his eyes dramatically as he made a show of slinging his forearm across the countertop -- putting his own extensive body art brazenly on display in the process. Colorful renderings of traditional Japanese imagery swirled in mesmerizing patterns from wrist to collar, punctuated by crisp black line work and embellished with strategic flashes of vibrantly stylized shading.
"Listen smartass," he drawled without any real heat. "If you want to keep deluding yourself that you didn't bewitch me into making masterpieces grace that gorgeous skin of yours, be my guest. Just don't come crying when your dumbass blows our next appointment making dopey excuses for a rain check."
You laughed, easily settling into the familiar cadences of your long-running, playful banter with the talented tattoo artist. Truth be told, you relished these brief preludes to each session nearly as much as the actual artistry that followed. Terushima's unfiltered charisma and effortless way of putting you at ease was unmatched...not to mention how you always inexplicably found yourself growing flustered under the sheer magnetism of his piercing stare and toothy grins.
Shoving that disconcerting train of thought aside, you arched a single challenging brow. "Listen blade-stud, if I do end up missing another appointment, you'd best rush right over and tattoo THIS masterpiece yourself." You accompanied the provocative statement with a full-body once over that could only be described as a deliberate ogle. "Not that you'd find that to be such an imposition..."
Terushima's eyes predictably followed your shamelessly appraising perusal of his lean, athletic form -- taking in the molten embers that flared to life in his already smoldering gaze. He momentarily dragged his pierced tongue across those full lips in a move so blatant it made your mouth go dry, clearly chewing over some filthy riposte to lob back in your direction.
Anxiety and something dangerously akin to arousal thrummed through you in equal measure as the heavy tension stretched out between you, thick as river mud. A few abortive throat-clearings from the other occupants of the waiting area finally snapped you out of the heated stalemate.
Flushing dull crimson, you backpedaled with a somewhat sheepish grin. "So uh...y'think we can squeeze in that new side-piece today? I've got the design reference and everything pulled up if you're free."
Terushima eyed you with a distinctly predatory gleam lingering in the depths of those tawny irises for another suspended beat. Then, with the flick of a switch, he was oozing pure professionalism once more -- chasing away the thick undercurrents of provocative energy as a friendly grin stretched across his angular features.
"Course we can, no sweat," he agreed easily, straightening away from the counter and nodding towards the interior corridor leading to the private studio spaces. "Right this way, let's get you set up so I can pour all my creative juices into whatever you had in mind."
You opened your mouth to sling back a rejoinder to that obscenely leading statement...but Terushima had already turned on his heel and was sauntering down the hall without a backward glance. All you could do was stand rooted in place, cheeks burning as you took a fortifying breath and moved to follow.
This was going to be one hell of a long session, you could already tell.
By the time Terushima had you arranged on the padded recliner, he had already helped shuttle any lingering tension over the edge into professionalism. He made quick, efficient work of prepping the arm you indicated for the new ink -- asking concise follow-up questions about placement, size, and the design inspirations you were aiming to channel with this latest addition to your body art.
For his part, you found the artist hyper-focused and in the zone once preparations were underway. He handled your limb with the utmost care, yet also an understated reverence that spoke to how seriously he took his craft. The bold slashes of colorful imagery covering his own sun-kissed skin served as a living portfolio of his talent, only whetting your anticipation more acutely as he pulled up the digital rendering and reference designs on a mounted tablet.
"Lookin' to weave in some of those natural scenery elements we discussed last time?" Terushima asked in a low, effortless rasp as he scrutinized the design mock-up with a critical eye. "Maybe incorporate some structural geometry from that hiking trail you're so in love with as the framing borderwork?"
His fingers danced across the digital sketchpad, making minute adjustments and allowances to the linework right before your eyes. The deft movements were hypnotizing -- much like watching an artistic savant at their most inspired and open. You hummed an affirmative, finding yourself momentarily distracted by the glide of those long, calloused digits working their magic to translate your vague musings into visual reality.
"If you think it will all tie together into one cohesive statement, I trust your interpretation completely," you managed at last. Flicking a glance up towards Terushima's face, you found his piercing stare locked intently on the developing design rather than meeting yours. The ambient glow of the screens threw mesmerizing shadows across the sharp planes of his features, beautifully sculpted as if an artisan themselves had chiseled every line to classical proportions.
You swallowed hard against a sudden surge of longing completely at odds with the benign circumstances. Ever since meeting Terushima through a mutual friend's referral and sitting for your very first piece, you had felt these increasingly intrusive flashes of appreciation towards the talented artist -- inexplicable yearnings to run curious fingertips across the bold strokes of color and crisp linework decorating his taut skin. To taste the bright zing of his sunny, artful essence against your feverish mouth in moments of inspired abandon...
Ruthlessly, you shoved such wayward thoughts aside with a mental shake. Now wasn't the time for thirst-addled daydreams about Terushima's no-doubt impressive assets...and skill set. Besides, the idea of ever acting on those burgeoning compulsions was utterly laughable. You were a client, period -- and one he obviously had strictly platonic vibes towards if his easy, unaffected demeanor around you was any indication. Still, you couldn't resist sneaking one last sidelong look at the mesmerizing picture he made while completely immersed in the creative process.
Terushima wore the consummate aura of an artistic genius so effortlessly. From the mussed tumble of pale blonde hair to the way his broad shoulders rolled subtly with each sweeping movement, he exuded a quiet intensity that was utterly arresting to behold up close. You felt your heart stutter as the muscles in his arms and chest flexed in fascinating undulations with the motions of sketching -- unconsciously etching themselves into your frantic memory for later, more indecent contemplations.
"There it is," he breathed at last after several long minutes of intent focus. Rising to his feet with an easy, athletic roll of lean hips, Terushima pivoted the mounted tablet towards your awaiting scrutiny. "Pretty neat way to incorporate those natural elements you were going for while keeping it all grounded with some unified geometric rendering, yeah? Those lines should flow perfectly into the top-piece you already have planned out once we finish inking."
You startled slightly at the proximity of his voice. Jerking your gaze away from where it had been tracing the crisp vee of Terushima's slender hips, you blinked owlishly before hurrying to study the design mock-up anew. He was right, of course -- the linework and shading additions he had incorporated into the base design were seamless. As if the original rendering you had fallen in love with online had been elevated into a whole new artistic expression without losing its core essence.
"Shit...that's perfect!" You exhaled at last, tipping your chin up to meet Terushima's illuminated stare with a look of naked appreciation. "I swear you make this seem easy!"
Entirely without conscious volition, you reached out to squeeze Terushima's forearm in a gesture of gratitude and friendly affection. The fevered thrum of his pulse against your fingertips was startling, a visceral reminder of the living canvas you were complimenting. When he flashed you one of those signature toothy grins, nothing but authentic warmth and satisfaction radiating from his features, you very nearly pulled your hand back with equal haste -- worried its lingering presence might broadcast the wrong sort of impression.
But then the moment passed as swiftly as it arose. With a subtle throat clearing, Terushima gave a slight nod and moved to finish setting up his workstation. He tossed over one lean shoulder as he moved with easy grace to prep his tattoo gun. "Should be a real nice tie-in with that upper flourish you already have going by the time we're done inking today..."
The next stretch of time passed in a sort of serene, creative fugue as the familiar buzzing of the tattoo gun filled the small studio space. Terushima was all intense focus and quiet competence once more as he went to work etching the permanent design into your proffered skin. You found yourself mesmerized watching the ink take shape beneath his deft hands -- an appreciation of art unlike any other as he coaxed your body into becoming the living canvas.
Of course, it was difficult not to grow steadily more attuned to Terushima's nearness as the minutes ticked by in heated silence. The man was all lean, honed muscle and clean, sharp lines where you lay soft and pliable beneath his careful attention. At one point you found your gaze tracing the corded sinew in his biceps as they flexed and released with each pass of the tattoo gun. Following the darkly appealing trail of inked patterns swirling up towards the solid juncture of his shoulders and--
You bit back a tiny groan of frustration, realizing you were once again allowing your thoughts to drift in an extremely inappropriate direction. Squeezing your eyes shut, you concentrated on the rasping buzz of the needle caressing your skin rather than let your heightened awareness of Terushima's body linger any longer.
Except...even that was a mistake.
The suddenly sharpened awareness of every subtle scrape and tingling kiss of sensation across your overly sensitized skin made you acutely conscious of where, exactly, the current canvas was being shaped on your body. Terushima was leaning over your inner arm, bent at an intense angle as he filled in the gracefully arcing lines spanning from wrist to elbow joint.
The position placed his face scant inches from the slight swell of your breast as he worked -- near enough that you could actually feel the lightest whispers of his exhales ghosting across the thin cotton covering your chest. Your nipples tightened despite yourself, shocking sparks of arousal lancing straight to your core at the proximity.
Desperately you tried to think unsexy thoughts. Rotted vegetation, unpaid bills, awkward family gatherings...but nothing could dampen the traitorous flush of heat steadily creeping across your nerve endings. Particularly not when Terushima shifted his weight closer to get better traction, practically looming over your upper torso at this point with one knee braced alongside your hip.
The male fibrous notes of his earthy body wash saturated the static-laced air blanketing you both. You breathed in deep, stunned at how quickly the atmosphere in the small studio had taken on such thick, charged undercurrents despite Terushima's complete immersion in his artistry. Each subtle inhalation brought a dizzying new swirl of his natural, masculine scent lacing through your senses...until you felt drugged and heavy-lidded simply from the resonant vibrations of his presence so intimately invading your aura.
Sensation after molten sensation lapped at your subconscious like so many retreating tides. Until at last, you couldn't ignore the heated tide pool gathering at your body's core any longer.
The pointed awareness of your insistent arousal made the heavy air around you both feel thick and charged as ionized smoke. You found your gaze drifting helplessly to the sharp vee of Terushima's sculpted collarbones peeking above the open collar of his shirt. Followed the lean cords of his sinewy throat working in subtle rhythm as he remained focused on his artistry flowing across your skin.
When your heated stare lingered on the captivating sight of his silver tongue piercing dashing across his full lower lip in an subconscious display of concentration, a tremulous sigh escaped your parted mouth. The soft exhalation seemed to reverberate in the tense silence surrounding you both, finally shattering whatever tranquil spell had fallen over the studio.
Terushima went still as death, piercing tawny gaze flickering up to find yours -- pupils already blown wide with unveiled desire. You watched with breathless anticipation as he slowly, deliberately dragged the tip of that tantalizingly studded tongue across his lips once more, maintaining searing eye contact all the while.
"Getting a little hot under the collar there?" he rasped after a protracted, loaded moment. His voice was a sandpaper rasp of pure provocation, sending an involuntary shudder cascading through you.
Despite the heated evidence of your body's pronounced interest in your current intimate position, you managed a shaky semblance of your usual unaffected bravado. "What can I say? All these glimpses of your 'artistry' on display have me...appreciating your full skillset," you husked in return, allowing your eyes to drag a deliberate path down the lean, tattooed canvas of his torso in a shameless ogle.
"Pretty sure that kind of appreciation is gonna cost extra though," Terushima growled in response -- low and full of sensual promise. Before you could formulate a rejoinder, he closed the scant distance between you with one smooth, predatory slide of his weight until you were essentially caged between the hard planes of his body and the unforgiving surface beneath.
Your breath caught in your throat as he braced one forearm alongside your ribcage, effectively trapping you while simultaneously allowing you an unobstructed view of every delicious inch of coiled muscle and colorful ink now on display. The heavy musk of him surrounded you utterly, drenching your senses in potent masculinity until your mouth practically watered from proximity alone.
"I distinctly remember someone being warned about behaving during our sessions," Terushima growled against the shell of your ear, lips brushing fire across your sensitized skin until you shuddered violently. "We might need to have a conversation about adding rush fees to your tab...if you keep squirming around while I'm workin' my magic like this..."
The suggestive undercurrent of meaning laced through every word had your core clenching with thrumming desire. You couldn't bite back the shameless whine that spilled free as the delicious heat of Terushima's body seared through your thin layers, pressing against you with tantalizing friction. Blindly, you reached out to anchor yourself by fisting a hand at the nape of his neck -- relishing the silken slide of short hair around your fingers as you tugged impatiently.
"Maybe I want to misbehave," you whispered without a hint of compunction, already shifting restlessly against the unyielding planes pinning you down. "I'm definitely craving some...overtime benefits to go along with your services."
Terushima let out a dark chuckle of sheer sin against your tingling pulse point. The wet heat of his tongue swept across the same electrified path a split-second later, sending lightning jolts of blistering arousal ricocheting down your nerve endings. You cried out in shameless bliss as his wicked mouth latched onto the sensitive juncture, suckling ardently while one broad palm palmed your ribs before skating sinuously lower...
As his calloused fingertips finally drifted beneath the hem of your shirt to brand searing paths across exposed skin, Terushima broke away with heated labored breaths. You watched him chase the mesmerizing glint of his tongue piercing with a lust-darkened stare, utterly entranced by the lurid promise blazing from every chiseled inch of his features.
"Better be sure you can handle this particular bit of artistry sweetheart," he growled at last, the gravelly burr sending fresh sparks of liquid heat pooling at your apex. "I have a feeling my...techniques are about to get pretty fucking intense before we're through..."
With that salacious warning, Terushima bent his shoulders and descended upon your parted lips in a searing kiss of pure possession. Your mouth welcomed the sensual invasion with a broken cry, arching eagerly to deepen the molten exchange.
The kiss was all tongue and teeth and white-hot desperation -- a tangle of need and lust and sheer intoxicating chemistry. Every slide of his talented tongue stud against the sensitive roof of your mouth sent another gush of molten arousal spilling between your thighs, until you were a writhing, pleading mess of raw sensuality beneath his expert touch.
All the while, Terushima kept up his deft assault on the hyper-sensitive nerves dotting your midsection -- skirting the outer edges of your needy sex but never quite making full contact. Each teasing pass only stoked the inferno roiling within your core until you were nearly ready to beg for more.
At last, when the searing heat at your core had become a raging conflagration, Terushima finally dragged his palm upward. The slow, torturous slide across feverish flesh had you keening into his kiss, desperate for the promise of more. Then his clever fingers were tracing the lace banding your ribcage before finally, blissfully sliding the material upwards and over your breasts.
A throaty growl escaped the artist's mouth as his hands cupped your naked flesh, kneading the tender peaks until you were nearly delirious with want. Breaking the kiss with a ragged curse, Terushima's tawny gaze dropped to rake an unabashedly hungry perusal of the bounty on display.
"Fuck me...you're goddamn perfection," he muttered under his breath, thumbing across the puckered peaks until you shuddered with renewed pleasure. Then he was bending to swirl his tongue around one nipple, drawing it deep into the scalding heat of his mouth to suckle mercilessly.
You writhed and sobbed against the delicious onslaught, hips bucking in restless, frantic search for the friction you needed most. Terushima took the movement as his cue to redouble his efforts, laving attention on first one nipple then the other. His wicked tongue stud grazed each sensitive bud with the most delicious pressure, leaving a wet, cooling trail of saliva in its wake that only served to heighten the throbbing ache between your legs.
By the time Terushima slid a calloused palm beneath the waistband of your jeans, you were already a dripping mess of desperate need. He didn't disappoint -- fingers finding your molten core with practiced ease. The artist hummed his appreciation against your collarbone as he traced your soaked slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on dexterous digits.
"Jesus fucking Christ, look at this sweet cunt just begging for my cock," he groaned, nipping sharply at the underside of your jaw before laving the sting with his tongue. "And all mine...just gotta show you a bit more of my craftsmanship before I really get my fill, yeah?"
"Fuck...fuck...please," you whined, barely aware of the words spilling from your mouth as you writhed mindlessly beneath his relentless, expert touch. The blunt pads of Terushima's fingertips continued to circle your aching clit, alternating featherlight caresses with punishing strokes -- never giving you the leverage you needed to chase the impending release fluttering at the edge of your consciousness.
You were a mess of sensual desperation by the time he finally, mercifully slipped a finger inside your throbbing channel. His name was a breathy chant falling from your lips, a prayer for deliverance from the exquisite torment. Then, just as you felt your climax cresting -- a second finger plunged into the tight, slick sheath.
The sudden, delicious stretch was a shock to your system, forcing a startled gasp from your throat. Before you could catch your breath, Terushima was thrusting those thick, calloused digits with a rough, driving rhythm that had you sobbing and arching from the blinding sensations.
"That's it, give me what I need," he rasped against the shell of your ear. The guttural rasp was so full of pure masculine dominance and primal ownership that it nearly tipped you over the edge. But still, he kept his fingers just shy of hitting the right angle -- holding you right on the precipice until you were a wreck of incoherent babbling and shameless pleas for release.
Then, with one final twist and curl, the dam finally shattered. A scream ripped from your lungs as a wave of blinding ecstasy washed through you. Your core clenched violently around the invading digits, riding each crashing wave as Terushima worked you through the orgasm.
"So fucking beautiful...you have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this," he was saying, the words muffled against your sweat-dampened temple. "You coming undone around my fingers, so hot and wet and eager. Fuck, you're gonna feel so perfect around my cock. Just you wait..."
Terushima didn't stop pumping his fingers through the aftershocks, nor the filthy words dripping from his sinful mouth. Instead, he seemed to sense exactly how close you were to another crest and doubled down -- sliding a third finger into the pulsating grip of your channel. The sudden pressure was overwhelming, almost painful.
It was too much. Not enough. You were flying apart at the seams.
You were barely aware of the keening wail that accompanied the second crest -- a violent crescendo of sensations that left you gasping and limp against the padded chair. By the time your vision cleared, Terushima had pulled away to admire his handiwork. His fingers glistened with your release, and his pupils were blown wide with unmistakable hunger.
"I don't think I'm ever gonna get tired of seeing that look," he breathed after a protracted moment, voice raw with need. "Fuck, it's gonna be hard to walk out of this room right now. Pretty sure that was the hottest shit I've ever seen."
You couldn't find the words to respond, instead simply watching with glassy eyes as he dragged his soaked digits across his lower lip. When the tip of his pierced tongue darted out to lick the wetness clean, the blatant carnality of the gesture had another tremor racing through your limbs.
Terushima seemed to realize just how much he was affecting you -- if the sudden flash of pure lust across his chiseled features was any indication. As his eyes darkened impossibly further, his mouth quirked up into a devilish smirk.
"Y'know, there is something else we could do...to really put those creative juices of mine to work." The tone was a sinful rasp, dripping with sensual promise and wicked intent. It took a moment for the implication to sink in, but then your brain was short-circuiting again with a flood of white-hot arousal.
"You can't be serious," you managed in a broken whisper, unable to tear your gaze from the lewd picture his lips painted. "There's no way that will even fit."
Terushima just shrugged, the motion full of fluid grace as he rose smoothly to his feet. "Worth a shot," he rasped. "And who knows, maybe all the extra lubrication from those two orgasms you just gave me will make it easier..."
You swallowed hard, eyes flitting helplessly towards the very obvious tenting in the front of his pants. As if reading your mind, he made quick work of the zipper and shucked the garment entirely -- standing gloriously naked before you in all his chiseled, inked glory.
"Holy shit..." was all you could manage at the sight of him.
His erection was truly a work of art, in all the best possible ways. Thick and heavy, it curved upward with a slight upward tilt -- the tip already flushed an angry red and glistening with pre-cum. It looked impossibly large from your vantage point, though Terushima was already reaching down to fist the base with a lazy pump.
"Well? You wanna give it a try, or am I gonna have to take care of things myself?" The words were a playful rasp, laced with filthy insinuation and a challenge for you to rise to.
You felt the last vestiges of hesitation crumble away beneath the weight of your desire, giving way to the raw, primal urges screaming at you to throw yourself into Terushima's waiting embrace. In the blink of an eye, you were rising to your feet, stripping away the remaining clothing in a haphazard pile and stepping boldly forward to close the distance between you.
When his lean, tattooed torso collided with yours, the feeling was pure euphoria. Your mouths came together in a messy, passionate clash of tongues and teeth and desperation. Terushima's hands were everywhere, sliding over every curve and dip of your naked form like a man possessed.
Your own eager touch was no less frantic. You were consumed by the need to taste every inch of him, to feel the firm planes of his body pressed against you with delicious friction. As the heated slide of your skin against his became more frenzied, a litany of curses tumbled from Terushima's mouth -- a low, sensual stream of praise that had you nearly sobbing with need.
"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, but I have to have you. Now," he growled against the shell of your ear, punctuating the statement by fisting a hand in your hair and tugging hard. "Been dying to have you ride my cock, just like this. Need to feel this tight little cunt squeezing the cum out of me."
Before you could fully process the filthy declaration, you were being lifted off the ground. Then your back hit the padded recliner with a jarring impact that made you squeak in surprise. In a heartbeat, Terushima was bracketing your hips with his thighs and bracing both palms on either side of your head -- caging you in with the intoxicating heat of his body.
You whimpered at the heady sensation of him sliding his thick length between your legs, coating himself in your wetness. Then he was lining up at your entrance and pushing inside in a slow, relentless glide that had you arching and sobbing with the delicious pressure.
Terushima's head hung heavy above yours, jaw clenched tight and sweat-dampened strands of blonde hair sticking to his forehead. The corded muscles of his shoulders and neck stood out in sharp relief as he fought for control.
"Fuck me...so goddamn perfect, sweetheart. Gonna ruin me for any other pussy," he ground out. The gravelly rasp sent a fresh gush of liquid arousal spilling around his thick shaft. "Can't wait to feel you cumming all over my cock, milking me dry while I paint that pretty little cunt."
All you could do was whine incoherently in response, the sensation of being so perfectly stretched and full of him making it impossible to form words. It felt like you were being torn apart in the most glorious way possible, the sweetest ache throbbing between your thighs.
When Terushima finally started to move, you thought you might fly apart from the intensity. He pulled out slowly before slamming home in a powerful thrust that had you crying out and clawing at his shoulders. Each successive movement was more forceful than the last, the tempo building into a brutal rhythm that left you breathless and reeling.
Your entire world shrank down to the single point of contact where your bodies moved as one. Terushima was growling unintelligible filth in your ear, telling you how perfect and tight and wet you were, how he couldn't wait to see you come all over his cock. The filthy words stoked the flames of your pleasure, the mounting pressure reaching an impossible pitch.
Just when you thought you couldn't possibly take anymore, Terushima reached down between your sweat-slickened bodies and found your swollen clit. His expert touch was like an electrical current, sending bolts of sizzling pleasure ricocheting through every nerve ending. You felt the dam inside you breaking, the release coming in a violent torrent that had you screaming his name and shaking beneath him.
Terushima was right behind you, groaning and grinding his pelvis against yours as his cock twitched and pulsed. Then he was cumming inside you in thick, hot spurts. His lips were on yours, devouring you in a kiss full of pure primal passion and need. You clung to him with a ferocity that should have alarmed you, but it was impossible to care.
"Fuuuuck...you are everything I dreamed and more," Terushima rasped against the sweat-slicked column of your throat. The words were barely coherent, but they sent a thrill of pleasure and satisfaction rushing through your veins. "
You hummed in agreement, relishing the warm, heavy weight of his body on top of yours. After a moment, he stirred and pressed a lazy, lingering kiss against your mouth.
"Y'know, we still got time before our next appointment...and I'm sure as hell not finished with you yet," he murmured. There was an undercurrent of suggestion in the graveled tone, and the implication was enough to have your core clenching around him.
"Better not be," you shot back, nipping at his bottom lip. "Because we're definitely adding rush fees to that tab."
"Mmmm...you're gonna pay in the best way possible, baby. Trust me."
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itshype · 2 years ago
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How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)
Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.
Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?
However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.
Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.
First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.
Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.
After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.
There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.
A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.
While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?
Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.
NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.
He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.
He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.
He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.
"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"
"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."
"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"
Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.
It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.
"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."
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mechaknight-98 · 6 months ago
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Game Face (NSFW) FT Hyeju
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Author’s note: something different and kinda gross.
“Picture this: it's the final round of Core-A’s Tatsunoko VS Capcom blast from the past tournament and you are facing off against a new challenger whose gamer tag is Mothra. The set is tied between you and her. She's been wrecking your team of Frank West and Tekkaman so to throw her for a curveball you go Polymer and Morrigan. Hyeju is confused “No one plays Polymer,” she says perplexed at your choice
You respond with, “Well I do!” and trounce her in a flawless victory winning a Wii a copy of the game, and 4 “classic controllers””
“Yah Daizo why don't you go bother someone else,” Hyeju says to me as I recount the story to James, Haseul, Arin, Jinsoo, and Nagyung. I shrug and sit down
I smiled as I sat down next to Arin she nestled in close to my neck as I shot my gaze towards her and she looked up at me her bespeckled eyes gleaming leaving my head dazzled.
“Yah I don't know why you're so cocky you came in third,” Hyeju rolls her eyes as she declares,
I look at her with narrow eyes before re-establishing, “Yeah because I only lost to Bon-wa. I beat everyone else I played against, and I would have beat you.” you laugh as despite my boisterous and arrogant antics I often “walked the walk” I put in way more hours into the game then you did and lobbed way more characters than you but yeah you beat me because you are the better player but you wouldn't have beaten Hyeju if weren't for me because I taught you how to play polymer, and suggested Morrigan as a pocket team to mess with high tier play because you can't accurately predict his next move.
“Oh come on Bon-wa beat you in 3 with one flawless win.”
Knowing I was about to dismantle her entire playstyle and give accurate ways to demolish her you defended me, “Sorry Hye but Daizo would level you. I only beat him because I know how he approaches the game and his patterns,”
Hyeju laughed “Please, and like I couldn't we all play together every Thursday, and he always comes in under us,” you and I look at each other at this point and I decide to point out what we both know,
I raise an eyebrow before striking the killing blow, “Um, Hyeju what two characters are my mains in TVC?”
Hyeju shrugs, “Um Karas and Chun Li?”
I look to you and you break the news to your girlfriend,
“Hye he hates playing Chun Li and Karas. He only does it to you because I ask him to,”
Hyeju was flabbergasted “Why” she asked.
You know you have to break it to her carefully.“Well did you see his last match?”
Hyeju shook her head“No, all I heard from that was screaming while I got us lunch.”
You sigh and respond, “Babe he zero to deathed his opponent after reading their first assist correctly, and he only started playing Joe the Condor today.”
Hyeju looked at you then me confused as did the rest of the group.
“You just learned Joe today,” she inquired while being struck with bewilderment. I nod which causes James to ask me a very legitimate question.
“Wait why risk that at a paid tournament?”
I shrugged before answering with, “Because as soon as was in the same bracket side as Bon I was getting third place no matter what, so why not see how far I could push my limits?”
Hyeju looked at me with disgust, “How arrogant of you to think you can just waltz in a win a tournament on whim picks,”
I laughed and responded, “Hyeju we had to give you an advanced tech crash course when you told us you wanted to participate on a whim, despite only playing occasionally with us. I don't want to hear about me doing anything competition-wise on a whim. I am always competition-ready.” this made Hyeju go quiet. Arin bless her heart sensed the tension in my heart and grabbed my hand. Her touch as always was a soothing wave cooling off the plasmidic heat that I felt. It worked until Hyeju feeling her ego hurt said
“Okay, then Daizo if you're so great how about a friendly exhibition match?” I heard Arin’s sigh and knew that either I or Hyeju was going to revive a lecture later but honestly, she already blooded the water by doubting me and further pushed me with an official challenge. So when we got to y’all place I was nearly delirious with anticipation.
I beat Hyeju 25-1. We could have stopped at 13-0 but the part of me that y'all don't like demanded I beat her more. Thankfully before I could make Hyeju cry Arin and you stopped me.
“Okay, Disaster that's enough. You have proved your supremacy and I don't think Hye can take anymore,” Your sad tone reaches me and I come out of that dark place. Arin and I go back to our shared apartment leaving you to comfort the almost in-tears and shocked Hyeju on your shared couch. You cuddle next to your girlfriend who's a little grumpy that I beat her,
“I can't believe Daizo’s so mean,” she said with an adorable pout you smile and nestle closer.
“Come on babe you went after him and he responded. Be glad we stopped it before you went 1-29,” you say
Hyeju is just revving up though, “It's just…(you shut her up with an impassioned kiss) uh babe no fair.”
You roll deeper into your make-out session with your bombshell of a girlfriend. When you break it, her wolf-like eyes are full of lust. You smile as she lifts her shirt revealing her bountiful bust. You grope her tits as the two and make out
“Oh,” she moans as an errant hand of hers wanders down to your crotch. When she finds her prize you gasp.
“Fuck Hye warn a guy,” you say but Hyeju smiles before stroking you a little bit and falling into another kiss.
“But jagiya I'm so wet for you,” Hyeju says before lining up with your ride and sliding tortuously down your rod. You groaned at her unrelenting tightness. Her folds envelop you as Hyeju moans,
Hyenu smiles as she takes you in, “God I love your massive cock. I could ride it all day,” she says with a selfish smile. She pushes your chest down as she begins to ride you roughly, her folds tearing into your cock like the rabid predator(your words not mine) she was. She looks down at her favorite prey. You. She smiles and then begins her ritual whenever she's on top.
“You love my wolfy pussy don't you Jagiya? The way my flesh craves you. The way my pussy molds itself to your cock. How I ride you till you can't help but cum in my perfect pussy. Come on baby cum for me! I need it right now.” Hyeju’s sultry sex voice always does a number on you and in combination with her pussy when she calls you her “large lion” you cum instantly as she has trained your dick to do so. You moan as cum fills her walls and Hyeju smiles, but she isn't done though. She gets up off of you and her pussy spills your load back onto your crotch. You groan getting ready to get up until Hyeju lies in front of you and begins to use her chest to get another load out of you.
“Why waste all this perfectly good cum,” she says as she wraps her tits around your cock. You scream at the pleasure emanating from your union. Hyeju howls as she continues to rub her lubricated breasts around your cock. Her sensitive tits cause her to be near her release.
“Go on make a mess of me Lionheart. Cum all over my slutty face. paint me! Come on do it. Please cum,” Hyeju yells as she eggs on your orgasm hoping to get hers from being covered in your cum. To coax the biggest load possible she wraps her tongue around your cock as she gives you her messiest tit/blowjob. She slobbers all over your cock watching you squirm and write until
“Hye Im cumming,” you moan as you erupt over her face like a volcano. Your cum flies everywhere on her: her face tits hair lips you name it it's there. Hyeju smiles before standing up and fingering herself to get herself off having gotten her cum kink satisfaction. As your cum rolls down her body and she touches herself to the mess she's made of you and herself she squirts all over you. You lap up what you can and let lay down next to you. A messy (and wet) picture-perfect scene
“You good now babe,” you ask. Hyeju nods and languidly strokes your cock, not to get you off but just because like toying with you.
“I needed that,” she says before kissing you. Her cum drenched lips are oddly pleasant.
“Fuck Hye you put your game face on,” you tease and Hyeju rolls her eyes before you give her another unexpected load.
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rjzimmerman · 7 months ago
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Excerpt from this Op-Ed from the New York Times:
At first glance, Xi Jinping seems to have lost the plot.
China’s president appears to be smothering the entrepreneurial dynamism that allowed his country to crawl out of poverty and become the factory of the world. He has brushed aside Deng Xiaoping’s maxim “To get rich is glorious” in favor of centralized planning and Communist-sounding slogans like “ecological civilization” and “new, quality productive forces,” which have prompted predictions of the end of China’s economic miracle.
But Mr. Xi is, in fact, making a decades-long bet that China can dominate the global transition to green energy, with his one-party state acting as the driving force in a way that free markets cannot or will not. His ultimate goal is not just to address one of humanity’s most urgent problems — climate change — but also to position China as the global savior in the process.
It has already begun. In recent years, the transition away from fossil fuels has become Mr. Xi’s mantra and the common thread in China’s industrial policies. It’s yielding results: China is now the world’s leading manufacturer of climate-friendly technologies, such as solar panels, batteries and electric vehicles. Last year the energy transition was China’s single biggest driver of overall investment and economic growth, making it the first large economy to achieve that.
This raises an important question for the United States and all of humanity: Is Mr. Xi right? Is a state-directed system like China’s better positioned to solve a generational crisis like climate change, or is a decentralized market approach — i.e., the American way — the answer?
How this plays out could have serious implications for American power and influence.
Look at what happened in the early 20th century, when fascism posed a global threat. America entered the fight late, but with its industrial power — the arsenal of democracy — it emerged on top. Whoever unlocks the door inherits the kingdom, and the United States set about building a new architecture of trade and international relations. The era of American dominance began.
Climate change is, similarly, a global problem, one that threatens our species and the world’s biodiversity. Where do Brazil, Pakistan, Indonesia and other large developing nations that are already grappling with the effects of climate change find their solutions? It will be in technologies that offer an affordable path to decarbonization, and so far, it’s China that is providing most of the solar panels, electric cars and more. China’s exports, increasingly led by green technology, are booming, and much of the growth involves exports to developing countries.
From the American neoliberal economic viewpoint, a state-led push like this might seem illegitimate or even unfair. The state, with its subsidies and political directives, is making decisions that are better left to the markets, the thinking goes.
But China’s leaders have their own calculations, which prioritize stability decades from now over shareholder returns today. Chinese history is littered with dynasties that fell because of famines, floods or failures to adapt to new realities. The Chinese Communist Party’s centrally planned system values constant struggle for its own sake, and today’s struggle is against climate change. China received a frightening reminder of this in 2022, when vast areas of the country baked for weeks under a record heat wave that dried up rivers, withered crops and was blamed for several heatstroke deaths.
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youcouldmakealife · 2 months ago
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Masking, YCMAL edition
So, after the general info on masking, here's how it specifically looks like and impacts some of the 'verse's characters.
I think I kind of need to preface this with the fact that a lot of my characters have neurodivergent traits because, well. I do. I don't know how a neurotypical person thinks, the same way a neurotypical person doesn't know how a neurodivergent person thinks. You can read about the experience, and, despite shitty stereotypes to the contrary, you can empathize with it, but the wiring of the brain is literally different.
So when I'm listing characters here as neurodivergent, I either a) set out to write them that way or b) in hindsight can't deny that their experiences are written through a very specifically neurodivergent lens. Someone not being explicitly labelled as ND doesn't necessarily mean they aren't, I just..really don't want to go back through my entire 'verse applying diagnoses the same way I happily slap an MBTI or enneagram or kindergarten teacher/assassin label on them, because that feels wrong.
But if you're neurodivergent and see something in a particular character that makes you feel seen, I'm not going to tell you 'nah man, they're actually neurotypical'. Especially because literally every single one of them was written by someone neurodivergent.
Anyway! Canonically ND characters and their masks:
David: masks extensively. Generally does his best for 'unobtrusive, pay no attention', unsure why it doesn't seem to work (mostly because he's talented and beautiful, so it seems less 'unobtrusive' and more 'I think I'm better than you', which isn't helped by the fact that often when the mask does slip, it's to show frustration, contempt, or disdain -- think at the All-Star Game his rookie year, or several points early on with Jake. Also does not help that he often does think he's better than people.)
Bryce: Still laughing at 'straightsona' used to describe Bryce out with his teammates, because it's perfect. His 'I don't care, I'm hot as shit, bitches love me' dickhead behaviour was him picking up those behaviours from popular peers and teammates over the years, partly mistaking that for the reason they were popular (rather than being seen as boy kings making them callous or arrogant), and partly viewing them as the exemplar of someone no one would predict was gay. Jared's worst enemy.
Speaking of, honourable mention to Raf Sanchez AND Julius Halla here, Jared's going around collecting neurodivergent loved ones all through IJ(aoe).
James: 'unobtrusive, pay no attention', much more successfully than David, partly because he has a mouthpiece in the form of Finn. His crashing after road trips is partly extended overstimulation and change, but it's also having to wear the mask more extensively, because he has much less time to himself, especially when he shared a room. (He's mostly unmasked with Finn, that's why Finn is his exception to a lot of No People things, but he wasn't at the beginning).
Holden: Also kind of 'I don't care, I'm hot as shit, bitches love me', but...ironically? He doesn't mask as much as the others, and because of that, he frequently drives away people who originally seem to like him and wonders why. Has been described as 'a lot'.
Fiona: Literally will not leave the house without a full face of makeup and a pair of heels or she'll feel exposed and vulnerable, and putting her make up on is how she prepares to be Outside Fiona. She's very perky and friendly at work. The second she gets home it's an 'uggggh' moment and straight into the shower to decompress/literally unmask. She's more aware than any of the guys that she's putting on a performance, partly because she grew up with all those 'girls are expected to be...' followed by a list of things she definitively wasn't. Has also been described as 'a lot'.
Finn: And How May I Be of Service To You Today?
Now this is where it gets kind of interesting because like -- people often have facades. That's not a neurodivergent only thing. People can be fake, or posture, or pretend to be something they're not. Mike, for example, will lean into the big macho asshole when he's put on the defensive, Willy is Always Performing, Thomas is sunshine even when he doesn't really feel like being that, Robbie will play the buffoon to make people laugh if he thinks they need it, half of Joey's rants are playing to the cheap seats.
Like, there's a difference between pretending you're somebody else sometimes, or behaving inauthentically, and full on 'yeah, they're masking'.
But Georgie is masking. Georgie is, at all times, evaluating his surroundings, monitoring people's emotions and reactions (especially to him), and behaving in the manner he thinks is most likely to lead to his being liked. And he was already doing that when Robbie met him, but it's intensified significantly since.
I think that's where the biggest difference lies between some of the above ND characters and Georgie? David, for example, doesn't care if he's liked (like, yes he does, but also...no). The mask is for safety/to minimize vulnerability. David's in particular was tweaked to get praise and avoid criticism from his parents (didn't work), teachers, and coaches (worked much better), not so much for his peers.
But Georgie's isn't for safety. Georgie doesn't manage his behaviour to avoid harm, Georgie wants people to like him. And he's discovered that people don't seem to like him when he does certain things, or acts certain ways, or needs things from them, so he just...doesn't do those things.
Finn's interesting because he has both forms. Please like him it'll break his heart if you don't.
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mm-lurking · 7 months ago
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Russian Roulette of Poison - Aventurine
A business deal, lies and a poisoned wine glass is how you find yourself in Aventurine’s arms, crying bitter tears of pain. A/N: I started playing Penacony and met Aventurine. Had some ideas brewing so here you go.
Warnings: Aventurine x fem! reader, angst drama and tension, I made up half of the stuff I say here, its all fanon, there is no logic only feelings
WC: 2356 — It’s another grand night in the magnificent land of dreams, Penacony. The Dreamscape Hotel is bustling with the most renowned guests and exquisite catering befitting for such a place. Everything glimmers and dazzles from the floor to the ceiling, there is a joyous melody playing in the background and the most unique conversations you have heard. But none of that matters to you as you sit at the far end of the lobby anxiously observing Aventurine, your situationship, and that lady next to him. From your position, you can only make out their figures but it is enough to make you nervous.
You massage your temples as you ponder on what is going on between them. Aventurine stands in front of the bar with a hand in his pocket and a wine glass in another with a smug smile on his face as he converses with that lady. Judging from her pose, she seems to be relaxed and friendly almost as if Aventurine was a long-lost friend she had reunited with at Penacony. Judging from her clothes, she seems to be someone of high status and wealth. Your head starts to throb as you dig through your mind and try to figure out where you had seen her before. She looked so familiar but why couldn’t you figure out who she was?
There’s a saying that goes: trust your gut. Trust your intuition for it tells you something is wrong before you even realise so. And right now your gut was sending you signals that something wasn’t right about the conversation between those two. That you had to interfere and see for yourself what was going on. In this land of dreams, even the brightest smiles hold sinister intentions and you knew for yourself you couldn’t trust anyone wholeheartedly here.
So you make up your mind and slowly walk over to them both, the bright lights shining over you as you move from the darkness of your corner back into the dazzling atmosphere of the hotel. Your eyes are fixated on the lady this time as she grabs two wine glasses off the counter and pours sparkling wine into them. Just like everything else in this room, the wine fizzes and reflects the light of the gleaming chandeliers in the room. Your eyes narrow immediately as she pours the wine into his glass; the subtle yet obvious change in the liquid immediately alerts you it's poisoned.
To your surprise, Aventurine casually just takes the glass and swirls it around, smiling at the woman while doing so. Now, you didn’t doubt his abilities -of course not! There is a reason he had earned the notorious reputation he has today. If life was a poker table, he always had a royal flush in his decks. Even if the odds weren’t in his favour he always found a way to turn the tables. Life was a grand gamble and he would always be the final victor, the one with the most chips and most wins at the table. Only a fool would misjudge a mastermind such as Aventurine.
But this was different. You were almost certain he didn’t know his wine was poisoned. To the untrained eye, the wine would appear as normal but to you, an expert in toxicology, it was obvious as hell. Years of forensics and cleaning up murders meant you were often able to predict danger before it unfolded.
“Don’t drink it..!”
Before you register your actions, you are already standing in front of Aventurine and the guest as you tightly grip his wine glass and look at him in panic. He glances at you momentarily with a confused look before shaking his head.
“It is rude to stop me from consuming a drink that was especially poured for me don’t you think?”
“My my, who do we have here? Care to introduce her, Aventurine?”
The woman interrupts your conversation and you turn to look at her, nervously fidgeting with your hands as you think of what to say. She doesn’t look angry but the way her eyes narrow slightly implies she isn’t too happy either.
“Oh her? I coincidentally ran into her at Penacony. She occasionally works with the IPC if contracted.”
Aventurine answers for you and you blink at him before quickly nodding. No, you both being here in Penacony was not a coincidence; he had brought you here with him given your…special relationship with him. The woman smirks and lifts her wine glass higher, swirling it intently before staring right into your eyes.
“And this friend of yours has quite the nerve to interrupt us so rudely don’t you think, Aventurine?”
“The guests on Penacony are always a handful.”
He replies and you sigh quietly. Of course, he wouldn’t really take your side just because you both were into each other. You weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but not exactly just friends either. Friends don’t kiss each other secretively while passing in the corridors. And friends definitely don’t spend the night together every few days. Keeping your complicated relationship status aside, business was business and right now you looked like a fool interrupting their conversation like this.
“The wine is poisoned Aventurine. Don’t drink it.”
You ignore the way they both take jabs at you and glance at Aventurine. You tightly grip his wine glass and try to take it away, but it doesn’t budge. The laugh the woman lets out in disbelief makes you turn your attention to her as she stares at you and scoffs.
“Poisoned? Are you out of your mind?”
“I saw it myself.”
“You saw the wine being poisoned? In this room full of people?”, she stretches her free hand and motions around the room at the bustling atmosphere surrounding you three. There were already eyes on you from the beginning and now more people were starting to look in your direction from the way the guest loudly spoke. Embarrassment creeps in and you feel yourself turning pink from the awkwardness of the situation. Regardless, you stay resolute and repeat your thoughts.
“I remember what I saw very well, madam. My eyes do not lie.”
You look straight into her eyes and she rolls them, clearly outraged by your accusations.
“You have quite the audacity to assume I would poison the wine of my dear guest so publicly.”
Aventurine watches quietly and seeing how neither of you were backing down he tries to calm down the tension.
“Hey, let's not go there now-“
“How about this, friend of Aventurine, since you don’t believe me, why don’t I drink the wine myself to prove to you that the wine isn’t poisoned?”
She cuts Aventurine off and smiles at you slyly as she raises her glass high in the air and takes a large sip of the wine. You nervously gulp as she pushes the glass away from her lips and looks at you.
“See? Nothing happened at all. You are embarrassing yourself.”
“But-”
“Enough. You’re humiliating yourself now. Everyone is looking at us, friend.”
Aventurine hisses into your ears and you feel your heart drop at the lack of his understanding of you. The shame and discomfort causes tears to form in your eyes and you harshly gulp, unwilling to show your weakness. Whispers and chuckles erupt in the air as you hear people talking about you and pointing fingers at you but you shake your head and focus on the situation at hand.
The woman keeps talking, insulting your intelligence and common sense but you’re too focused on your thoughts to fully register anything. You rack your brain as you try to think about how to prove yourself. It doesn’t take too long for you to figure out another path. Right, that must be it. If he wasn’t going to believe you then-
Without a word, you snatch Aventurine’s glass forcefully and take a sip of his wine. He is unable to stop you in time as the sparkling wine runs down your throat and the instant you swallow the liquid a bitter burning sensation sets in your throat.
-you would have to prove yourself in the most extreme way possible. Just as you suspected, it wasn’t the wine but the glass itself that was laced with poison. It was not strong enough to kill you immediately but not weak enough to set in slowly either. You stop momentarily and stare at the glass before gulping down the rest of it completely.
The average person would assume that the bitterness in their throat was the result of the strong wine; continuing to take slow sips throughout the party and allowing the small yet steady dosage of the drug to cause harm. This way the perpetrator wouldn’t be traced back so easily among the various servers, bartenders and guests. Yet you drinking the wine down in one go meant only one thing.
“!!!”
Aventurine stares in horror as the wine glass shatters on the floor and you fall along with it, choking and gasping for air. Loud gasps echo in the room as people watch everything unfold. You feel nauseous and an overwhelming amount of pain in your body from how the poison sets in so rapidly. Blood drips out of your mouth as you cough and tears follow. He quickly drops down to your level and takes you into his arms as he hurriedly observes you. The look of horror soon turns into full-blown anger as he looks back up at the guest, who is now smiling evilly without saying a word.
“You-!”
His voice is laced with frustration and shock; though he wants to say more, nothing comes out of his mouth. You don’t ever remember seeing Aventurine this mad. How his eyebrows knit together and his eyes are illuminated with fury as he stares at the guest makes you mentally chuckle even in such a state.
“A fool should never interfere in the wiseman’s plans.”
The guest completely ignores Aventurine and looks straight at you while speaking before scoffing and walking away. Aventurine wishes to run after her but he reconsiders when you weakly stroke his arm to stop him. He looks back at you with a sad smile as he tries to help you.
“A-Aventurine-“
“Silly girl. What on earth made you do that?”
You foolishly smile back at him and attempt to take a deep breath which makes you cough harshly.
“You never trusted me…even at the moment you didn’t believe in me…” His eyes widen and he exhales slowly. You both had a rocky relationship since the beginning. In between the romance and intimacy, there was a gaping hole regarding the emotional connection and understanding of each other. The trust you had in each other wasn’t firm and he definitely didn’t trust you as much as you trusted him.
“I…”
He doesn’t know what to say. He’s still processing his emotions as his gaze flickers back and forth between you body and the spilled wine. Seeing you like this deeply hurts him but he knows he hasn’t been the best man to you. Had he had faith in you and listened to your intuition, would you still have ended up like this?
“Anything for you Aventurine…anything…even if you don’t love me as much as I-“
“Don't. Please.”
He had never lost a gamble or a bet. Everything and everyone in his eyes was a chip at the table, a token to take a risk with to go big or go home. But tonight, his favourite chip was at the losing end and nothing could turn the bet back into his favour. You can hear his rapid breathing as he calls for backup and help all while trying to keep an eye on you. He couldn’t appear weak, even in such a position, he couldn’t show others how tightly his fist was clenched underneath the table.
He continues to hold onto you tightly, shouting orders and clearing the crowd to get you medical assistance. His panicked voice is all you remember before your eyes shut close and your breathing becomes almost undetectable. – In a quiet corridor, away from the main hall of the hotel, the guest dials her top contact and patiently waits. Once the line connects, she exhales.
“The job is done.”
A small laugh is heard over the guest’s phone after she speaks. She can hear the loud rustling of papers and items on the man’s desk before he replies.
“Good.”
“Despite the memory loss induced in her, it seems she still hasn’t learnt her lesson.”
“Oh?”
“Same foolish woman. Even after such a tragedy her mind still does the same pattern of behaviour that got her in trouble.”
“She didn’t remember you at all, Sapphire?”
“No sir.”
“Good.”
A moment of silence follows. Sapphire inhales slowly, wondering if she should speak her mind. After all, she was the guest Aventurine had been talking too and just like him; another member of the Ten Stonehearts. Regardless of their differences of opinion, he was still a colleague.
“You have something on your mind. Say it.”
“Sir…what about Aventurine?”
“He won’t know a thing. Besides, what happened to that girl is none of his concern.”
“..right.”
The call ends with a click and the man sighs as he places the handset back into the receiver. Besides the telephone, his nameplate glistens on the table glitters like the very gem he is named after, a Diamond. He rubs his temples and frowns as he recalls your case from seven years ago.
“Looks like you have caught on our little trick, infiltrator of the IPC. You were found in the wrong time and the wrong place. Lucky for you, your forensic skills are too excellent to throw away.”
“Can’t answer me? That is fine. Besides, I have no choice but to cause a slight corruption in your memory. Such a shame, Sapphire and you would have made good friends. A little electric shock is all you’re going to need and we will overlook your charges.”
“Oh my, fighting back are we? Don’t worry, there will be nothing left to fight for once we are done with you.” ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.
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tia-shay · 8 months ago
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Solar Return Observations 1.0
Hello, I'm so excited to write this post! Today I will provide an overview of my most recent solar return chart and how the year manifested for me.
For extra background, this was my 12th house profection year (ruled by Jupiter) and it was just as messy as the astro girlies predicted. 0/10 would recommend. Due to this being my 12th house protection year, I assumed it would be pretty low-key. But, my Leo ascendant had other plans. Note: these observations were made using Tropical astrology and Placidus house system!
Leo Ascendant at 24 degrees: talk about being in the spotlight. To an uncomfortable degree, the focus really was on me this year. What I could do, what my talents are, and undivided attention. For an introvert like myself, this was superrr uncomfy!! Idk how y'all do it. But this was a year where my creativity was able to shine. I spent a lot of time with kids and nurturing my own inner child.
Taurus Sun in 9th house (conjunct mercury, NN and MC): I started and stopped college this year. Apparently I needed to go back to be reminded of how much I despise it. Much to my dismay, I did little to no traveling this year. But these planets are all in Taurus so perhaps that can make them stationary? Sun conjunct NN made it to where my entire being was exactly what I needed to be. I just needed to stand tall and confident (Leo ASC) in who God created me to be.
Speaking of God, with this being my 12th house protection year, I started going back to church, volunteering my time and resources, and standing stronger in my spirituality. I would have NEVER made it through this year without this!
Aquarius Pluto in 6th house square Taurus Sun: I thought I was gonna d*e like a thousand times when I seen this aspect/placement. Y'all I was scurred, but still I rise! This year was certainly strange. At times it felt as if I was my own worst enemy. Battling inner battles every moment of the day. I joked that each week I was a new person, but honestly, this was the truth. Pluto doesn't let you stay the same. My routine changed a lot this year and I ended up working in a career I have never even considered! I also started posting on social media a lot more and even made a YouTube channel!
Cancer Moon conjunct Cancer Mars in 11th house: this also frightened me. I'm a natal Cap moon so to give me a Cancer moon?! Baby, idk what to do with this...but we made it work! My energy levels were very much dependent on my mood and emotions so that was icky. My relationship with my mother pretty much carried me through this year. In whole signs, this moon is placed in the 12th house which I found very interesting as my mother suffered some mental health issues and had to go away for a bit. I did partake in more social gatherings this year, although I won't say I necessarily gained more friends. Friendly gatherings felt more purposeful and I felt much less anxiety compared to what I would typically feel.
Scorpio IC: a majority of my transformations took place at home. I would go to sleep and energetically wake up a completely different person.
Taurus Mercury square Leo Ascendant: the way I articulated myself was in direct contrast with the way I presented myself. My appearance was very bold and hard to ignore, but my voice was very soft-spoken, yet straight to the point. I also noticed that people expected me to be one way, but when I opened my mouth and was a straight shooter, it took people aback, Like yeah, you weren't expecting me to be a bad*ss were you? Also Sun conjunct Mercury and Mercury conjunct Uranus so I stood on business!
Aries Chiron at a Leo degree: You know what's worse than being projected into the spotlight? Being in the spotlight, but cringing the entire time because you don't want people to see who you truly are. Flaws and all. This was how this placement manifested for me. I've always struggled with self-acceptance but the universe really said it's time to tackle this head on! Not an easy feat...
7th house Pisces Saturn at a Leo degree: Dang, Leo energy was on me bad this year! Well, I experienced my first committed romantic relationship with a Pisces Rising! It only lasted a few months, but the levels of delusion were insane. Definitely someone I shouldn't have been with to begin with, but you don't know unless you try, right? Saturn sextile my NN and Sun, so it was for character development hahaha.
10th house Gemini Venus at Leo degree: I've had this placement in plenty of my Solar Returns and each time I thank God it's only for a year. But it's a cute lil placement for the time being. With Venus in the 10th house, I found it very easy to charm people and get on their good side. Especially after just one conversation. I didn't have any love triangles cause I don't play that, but I did have quite a few people tryna be my boo...Venus square Neptune added to the delusion I had going and Sextile Chiron helped me to heal relationship issues and my relationships with women! Ooh, Gemini rules the hands and I created a lot of beauty this past year! Especially on the internet. I was also incredibly loved at work. People bringing me gifts and buying me food regularly. I could get used to this lol.
10th house Taurus Uranus conjunct MC: drastic and unexpected changes in my career and reputation. One minute no one knew me and next minute I'm Ms. Popular?? Okay, popular for ME lol. I was nervous in my career because I was doing stuff I had never done before. My job seemed fairly stable and chill. I appreciated this vibe greatly.
These are some of the placements/aspects that stood out to me this last year. Feel free to shed some light on your personal experiences with these placements either natal or solar return. :)
Please do not under any circumstances copy, rewrite, reword, or repost my work without crediting me.
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fauxnotice · 2 months ago
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ALIEN SKINCARE. v! blue lock/male! reader. originally posted on quotev. masterlist.
CHAPTER I. YOU JUST LOVE BEING NOTHING, RIGHT?
Your daily routine is a terribly ordinary, if not a rather dull one. 
That’s fine, however. Its normalcy comes from predictability, and with predictability comes a sense of control. Every and each new possible variant is easily molded to fit into what is already established. 
Days come and go, much like clouds in the sky, and you’re content. You love your painfully droll, boring routine.
Which would be a lie by definition, so to deny your restlessness would be the same as trying to deny that humans need air to survive. Or to deny that the Japanese football team will never win the World Cup. 
But alas, you live. 
One of your classmates, Hamada, you think pensively, since you make a passable effort at remembering names of the people you have to spend considerable hours of the day with, is acting rather friendly today.
You think he wants something from you. That’s probably why he’s asking you to go somewhere with him after school. Sadly, it seems he’s unaware of the few universal truths of life.
That is that you’re never free after classes. 
Everyone in your immediate vicinity is aware of this, so you’re led to believe that Hamada is extraordinarily out of the loop. Or maybe he’s being a contrarian just to appear unique in your eyes. 
Which is not working, by the way.
“Sorry, but I’m busy today.” You say, an apologetical smile creasing your face in a familiar way. 
“Oh.” He recoils, losing confidence at your rejection. “Maybe some other day, then?”
Whatever. He should just steal all of your money and fill your shoes with nails at this point. He should spit at you and kick you until you’re a stain on the floor. Unfortunately, you’re [L/n] [Y/n], so you nod. Kindly. With all the positive hidden implications in the world.
Hamada regains some of his previous enthusiasm. Thankfully, the teacher enters the room before he could take your politeness as an invitation to further communication.
Like a good student, you listen and take notes carefully. This teacher in particular talks very slowly and often loses track of his thoughts, which greatly gets on your nerves. 
That’s okay. You’ll live.
School time passes by comfortably. You demonstrate your gracefulness and virtue at every chance. Some students swoon. Plenty of girls, and curiously, a good chunk of boys as well. Some scoff at your supposed imitation of perfection. Talk about how you’re probably a faker, eager for attention and praise and whatnot. Not that you mind. They must think about you a lot, enough to start making theories on the topic of you and the nuances of your character. 
Not that they'll ever get any confirmation. You let the invested have fun. Do the divine throw bricks at the religious? No. 
Your school’s football team is having a game tomorrow. Obviously, you make your way to practice. Though, ultimately, you believe you’d be making a better use of your time by trying to fold a thousand origami cranes with just your feet and then wishing for a better team. Yet, here you are.
You move across the field like a corpse. Metaphorically, of course. To the other’s untrained eye, it looks like you’re giving it your all. However, in your head, you’re trying to to remember at least the first ten digits of pi (you’re failing), so you switch to creating a satirical retelling of some subpar movie you and Bachira watched at the premiere some time ago (you got reasonably angry at the mediocrity of the so-called social commentary that was flaunted around as “never seen before” and “a heart clenching story that dives into the complexities of our society”, and Bachira got bored, so you both ditched it, wasted money be damned). 
All that, and yet nothing of worth is happening before you. For shame, since you do think your teammates are decent people, in the same way drivers who stop their cars before they hit you are decent people. Except the probably forty something father of two who let you safely cross the street this morning probably had more ball expertise than these frankly appalling clowns throwing themselves around do. 
Of course, you pride yourself on your ever persisting decorum, so you keep your mouth shut as you pass the ball to the guy a bit to your left, since you’re a good teammate and teamwork makes the dreamwork and yadda yadda. Even with your absent minded play, he just needs to push the ball with some semblance of force and boom, it’s a simple and clean goal. 
But as if by some otherworldly intervention, the boy trips. Genuinely gets sent sprawling over the central object of the game. 
It takes you every drop of self control to not lunge at him with the intent of questioning just how does this happen a day! A day! Before the match. Now, keep in mind, this strange specimen is known for his blunders. At least to you, but the rest of the team and the coach seem to hold this guy in some type of high regard. Which is crazy, since you don’t think he’d be able to score a goal without you specifically holding his hand, making the whole predicament even more baffling since you’re the actual ace of the team. 
Now, you think this team could go places, if you had the time to score more, but you have to spend it making sure your companions don’t sabotage the game by playing like it’s their first time seeing a football. You surely have grinded quite a bit of your teeth mass down by pretending to be content with this charade, just so the court jester of a coach wouldn’t call you uncooperative or something similarly humiliating again. God forbid he sends you to meet the bench. 
The comically incapable guy turns to you, after all the shock and laughter has faded from the group. “Ah, I’m sorry for ruining your pass, [L/n]-kun. I guess my nerves have been getting to me, haha.” 
You wish it was “the nerves”. 
“Don’t worry about it.” You respond, channeling every bit of kindness you could find remaining within yourself. “I’m sure you’ll do fine tomorrow.”
Well, he doesn’t do fine, that’s for sure.
The morning of the next day came quickly. As usual, you woke up early, got out of bed, and went through your usual routine with the goal of looking the best you possibly could, which did turn out to be a rather lengthy process, although that was nothing new. You still thought it was an insanely long and dumb.
What meets you next is the sight of your legal guardian, sprawled across the couch, still clad in her work clothes. You conclude that last night was a busy one, so you sneak past her quietly. Making things worse for her is the last thing you want, after all. 
Next is making a nutritious breakfast. As a product of meticulous repetition, you’re quickly done with it, making sure to leave a portion for Sayaka as well, along with a note about your plans for today.
It’s a nice, sunny Saturday. So, like you always do, you set out on a morning jog. Chiba has quite a few pleasing sights, especially when there are no hideous eyesores scrambling around in the form of people. You specifically pick a time when the crowd’s minimal, right after the early workers leave for their job. Beautiful. The fresh air stirs up every fiber of your lungs. 
All this joy and wonder, you almost forgot about the match that’s supposed to be held in the afternoon. In fact, the memory of that shitshow of a football practice from yesterday almost entirely left your mind. From your increasing frustration, you don’t notice how your pleasant jog turned into a full blown sprint. After a good hour or so of this, you notice just how sweaty you were. 
Gross. You’d have to shower again.
Right as you’re about to open the gate of your residence, a weight slams against your back at full force. You remain entirely unbothered, however, as you’re already very well versed in such occurrences. 
Bachira Meguru has his arms wrapped around your back, clinging onto you much like an eccentrically colored koala. It seems like the fabric soggy with your sweat doesn’t bother him at all. He’s always been a bit strange like that. 
“Bachira-kun.” You smile. It comes easier to you. “Good morning.”
“Good morning!” He grins, lips pulling back to reveal the full expanse of teeth. “You didn’t invite me to go jogging! Again!”
Having a conversation in this position, with your posture being as straight as a tree and Bachira acting as some type of a humanoid backpack or a large parasite, would be inconvenient to most, but the two of you have long made this a part of your “normalcy”. 
“That’s because you’re never awake that early.” You retort easily, with a light teasing tone. “I’m surprised you’re even up right now.” 
“My monster got restless, so I wanted to play football.” He says, like that’s a totally normal thing to say. Like pointing out how the weather is nice or such. 
Listen, you genuinely do like Bachira (as far as someone like you is capable of liking), and you suppose he shares the same sentiment to some degree, because his whole “Monster” thing isn’t something that you talk about with just anyone, unless you want to be wheeled off to the nearest institution and shunned forever. You pride yourself on your patience and understanding, so you tend to brush this topic off whenever it comes up in a conversation. Mostly because you have no idea what to say that wouldn’t be extremely harsh. You want to honor Bachira’s companionship and trust in you, which means that him getting upset over something you stupidly spat out without thinking is not on your to-do list.
You do think that seeing a professional sometime in the future would do him some good, though.
Putting that aside, you nod in understanding. “I see. But-” You poke at his leg. “-Can you get off, please? I want to take a shower.”
Bachira hums a long tune, but he makes no move to do what you’ve requested of him. After a passage of silence, he asks a question, even if he knows the answer already. 
“Hey, can we play together? Just for a bit?” 
He can’t see your face, but he can clearly visualize the apologetic expression that graces it. It looks the same, every time he asks. “Sorry, but I need to save energy for later. Maybe next time?” 
There it is again. Despite it being a few years since you two met, both lovers of football and everything football related, you’ve rejected his proposal again and again. You always have an excuse, something about being busy, or not feeling well, or this and that. 
Bachira has been resigned to it. Yet, he still repeats the inquiry, like you’ll change your mind someday. Maybe next time? As if that will ever come.
He lets it go, as he always does.
Finally stepping down, he leans onto your side. He’s rather sweaty too, you notice. “Right! You have a match today! Make sure to score lots of goals, ‘kay? I’ll be there to cheer for you!” 
Bachira thinks you’re not aware of the fondness you let slip into your gaze. It’s for the best, though, since if you knew you’d probably try to mask it with some form of artificial politeness. He likes you the most when you’re honest, in these small tidbits of time, after all.
“Sure.” You say, simply, as some things are.
The tensions are high before the match. For what reason, you don’t know. The match is purely for practice, although you’re curious on how a low tier school such as Kagayaku High managed to schedule a match against some bigshot from Kanagawa. You’d think they’d consider it a waste of time, but you guess not. 
A notification lights up the screen of your phone just as you’re finishing putting your jersey on. 
Sayaka
I’m so sorry that I won’t be able to make it to your game!!!! Work is hell today 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹
But I hope your team does well! Do your best ৻(  •̀ ᗜ •́  ৻)
You snort at the woman’s usage of kaomojis. It was hard to imagine that she was nearly forty years old. Keeping your eye on the clock, you quickly type a response.
You
Please don’t worry about it! 
Take care of yourself!
Sayaka
You’re too nice to me, haha
The breakfast was delicious, by the way! It really made my day O(≧∇≦)O
I’m gonna make us something to eat later, as a celebration and payback! ᕙ(  •̀ ᗜ •́  )ᕗ
You gnawed at your lip worrieldy. While you truly did appreciate the sentiment, Sayaka’s cooking skills … weren’t something you’d write home about. Her message truly left you worried for the safety of the stove. Before you could try to change her mind (and save the neighborhood from a possible fire), one of your teammates gestures for you to move.
Ah. It’s time.
You
The game is starting, ttyl
The match goes just as well as you thought it would. 
The opponent’s defense tears through the clumsy guy like a knife through butter within the first few minutes of the game. They’re not too shabby, you have to admit. But the more you watch them, the more holes ripe for exploatation you notice.
The rush of excitement still evades you, as you circle an opposing player who is attempting to take the ball from you. Your mind is still in its autopilot mode, where you make boring, yet entirely rational plays that have carried your team to where it is now. Move your leg and lean to the right, and when the guy is still thinking of his next move, kick the ball between his legs. A safe and classic nutmeg. After that-
A movement leaves you startled; someone dashes past you with unforseen speed and snatches the football right from your possession. You’re forced to be wide awake, left feeling like a bucket of icy water was thrown over your head.
Huh?
For what seems to be the first time in years, your heartbeat echoes loudly in your ears and shakes your very core.
You gape at the distancing back of the player who had just turned your world around. In bold letters, the name Itoshi acts as a mockery of you. Helpless in your shock, you can do nothing but watch as your newest adversary scores a clean goal into the net, while Kagayaku High’s goalkeeper does nothing.
For once, you don’t blame him.
The clowns of your circus are talking amongst themselves. You think they’re trying to include you as well, but you’re too busy rebooting your brain to care.
You wanted Itoshi gone. An irritation so strong its frightening festers under your skin as you stare, long and hard, at the intruder who had come to ruin everything for you.
But was he truly ruining anything? 
When a teammate of yours moves with the ball, you abandon all uniform strategy. This stupid team could go to hell. Both yours and the enemy’s. This game should be just between you and him. 
Much to the shock of your team, who had probably gotten too comfortable with your usually passive way of playing, you pick up the pace, with the speed and technique built up through many regular torturous sessions of trying to polish yourself to your extremes.
It’s something you had to do, lest you want to be left in the dust when the real threat appears.
Is Itoshi a real threat?
A wispy smile still hangs from your lips. It looks … out of place, possibly, as it’s no longer a carefully planned tool of deceit.
Astonished shouts of your team as you steal the ball from your own comrade is nothing but background noise.
There he comes. His gaze is glacier cold as he weaves between the humanoid obstacles in his path. Surely, he’s wholy confident in his domination of this match. You wait.
Itoshi moves with clear intent of making you crumble under his might. That won’t do. Who does he think he is? Who does he think you are? Does he think you’re a mere bug, a speck of dust on his road to victory? That doesn’t make sense at all.
“Pass to me!” Someone yells at you, as if you weren’t the damned ace, as if you weren’t the one who gave this shitty team the ability to get off the ground in the first place. 
You’re nowhere near the penalty area. The other team’s defense is scattered around, trying to cut off all your routes. Now aware of the possible danger you represent, Itoshi is right by your side, with his eyelash rimmed eyes watching you like he might tear you apart. At least he’s fast on the uptake, you muse, as you almost carelessly roll the ball across the grass.
The angle is terribly narrow, but it’ll do. 
Avoiding Itoshi’s attempt at ridding you of the ball, you raise your leg and deliver a swift kick to it, sending it flying in a rather flimsy arc (your brows furrow slightly at that), which manages to slam into the net at a spot left open.
1-1.
You stop and take a long look at the goal. That was a five out of ten. Hell, maybe even four. But it seemed like it was enough to make your current “rival” appear like he wants to explode you with his mind.
That makes you … giddy? Edges of your lips wobble as you attempt to keep your expression under control. Even if you just single handedly destroyed the foundation of your team as well as the way its members saw you, you still had appearances to keep. From the corner of your eye, you spot Bachira watching, with a grin so manic it bordered on deranged.
In the end, you lose the game. And yet, to you, it feels like a victory, sweeter than any other. You managed to keep Itoshi from scoring another goal (well, you didn’t score another one either, but that was fine), and you got the front seat to the slow unraveling of his stoic disposition.
His team manages to secure a victory with their goal. But their ace, visibly pissed, makes his way to you. His tone is biting, befitting of an untouchable beauty such as himself.
“Next time, I’ll crush you.”
And then he leaves. One for dramatics, that’s for sure. Mommy’s little edgelord. Deciding to play along, you wave at his retreating back, signature smile set in place. “If you say so, Itoshi.”
Pointedly ignoring the troupe of mongrels, you collect your belongings and make a swift departure. Of course, nothing is that simple for you, because Bachira is waiting for you outside. Predictably, he lunges at you, but is considerate enough to take note of your possible exhaustion and not jump on your back like he usually does, instead opting to sling an arm around your shoulders. 
“That was pretty insane, you know.” He begins, although you note the sharpness of his grin that was unknown to you, up until now. “I never knew you could play like that.”
Then, he goes on to speak more, but you’re already ensnared within your own mind. A familiar thing; anger, ire, all-consuming, starts to ignite your entire being. A combination of many factors give way to its rise, both from Bachira’s subtle and probably unintentional downplaying of your perceived capability, and from … well, everything about the game. Especially Itoshi. What, did they all think you were some insignificant ant? A poser, perhaps? Maybe a-
You pause all thought. Suddenly, your legs feel weak. Not from tiredness, of course not. Embarrassingly, the weight of emotions was always a bigger burden than anything of physical kind. 
That was your weakness. A flaw that you needed to demolish. 
“Bachira,” you gasp out, voice small and uneven. “Bachira-”
The boy in question tilts his head. “Huh? What is it?” 
“Hold me.” You say, just before you collapse.
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