operativedameron · 1 year ago
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the titan submersible's experimental 12.3 inch diameter window, 5 inch thick hull, and 17 bolts sealing people inside: yeah, we have failsafes connected to electronics!! totally safe underwater! btw, safety regulations are an anathema to rapid innovation, so sign this waiver 🩵
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common sense when i look into things: and what did we learn from failed spacecraft, as well as submersibles and submarines?? why do we have regulations on these sorts of things???
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the part of me i suppress that really wants to respect & study nature's reclamation of the rms titanic up close:
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prael · 2 months ago
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Currents
Kinktember Day 12: Electrophilia
Aespa Winter x male reader smut
words: 3,194 Kinktember Masterlist
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"Sign here. Here. And here."
"And what's this for, exactly?" Winter asks, pointing a dainty finger at the paperwork.
"Protection. When someone like you enters a place like this, I need you to sign a waiver stating that you're of sound mind and know what you're doing."
"My mind is far from sound," she says with a playful wink.
Winter takes the pen from your hand. Her nails are painted a matte red with glittery bits at the tips. When she scrawls out Kim Minjeong on the dotted lines, it looks akin to an intricate piece of calligraphy. She places the pen on top and slides it back across the desk. "Now. I've signed and paid. Can we get to the fun?"
With a smile and a nod, you wordlessly guide her to the room she paid for. On the way, you take a few glances back at her, there's this keen expression of wonderment as she spots rooms for every type of fetish she might one day indulge in. Little ideas fired around her mind. What she might try next and how it may very well send her to heights of pleasure unforeseen. She must feel your gaze upon her, as a small giggle and coy smile creep on her face, and she asks in a small voice, "What?"
"Nothing," you say as you pull open the door at the end on the right. "You just have this look about you."
"A good look, I hope?"
She walks through the threshold. As the door closes behind you, the neon strips light up the room in a pale violet. Black leather and cushions cover almost every surface and all the other items seem so insignificant around the electrified bed in the middle. "Intrigue and excitement are always a good look in a place like this."
Winter's eyes alight as if someone had set a flame to a blanket of kindling. "This place... it's amazing." The corners of her mouth inch towards her ears as her gaze sweeps every nook and corner of the room, from the hanging metal chains and restraints to the riding crops and collars lined up by size, perfectly uniformed and orderly on their wooden mounts. Her gaze settles on a coil of rubberized cable as the width of her pupil increases, darkening her eyes. "I thought I would be nervous, but..."
Winter steps further into the room, you watch her take delicate steps as she stares at the centre-piece, the bed that will soon become her salvation, her ruin, her desire personified. She takes her jacket off and carelessly drops it on the floor as she spins back towards you, her eyes are wild and yet bright with lust as her tongue runs over her top row of teeth.
"I'm so excited," she confesses. "It's... exhilarating."
She steps close to you, her breath washing against your neck, sending an enticing thrill down the base of your skull.
"How would you like me? And don't go easy on me okay? I might look fragile..." Winter steps back a couple of times, letting you size her up as if you haven't been doing it since the moment she walked it. "but I'm not."
"Let's start by getting you fitted with a little something," you say as you walk to the side, picking out the perfect shock collar to fit Winter. Something thin would be best, is what you decide. Such a slender frame as hers wouldn't suit a big chunky collar.
"Yes, please," Winter says, making an energetic skip up to your side and resting her hand on your shoulder. "Something light is usually my colour."
"I think so too. Something skinny too. Ah, I know just the one."
After a brief scan along the top three rows, you spot the perfect collar to suit her. It's a light pink, it's her size and looks as delicate and attractive as she is.
"Oh my. That's... so cute," she sighs.
You pull it from its hook and open it. "Now, come here winter. Let me put it on you. Make sure it fits."
Obedient and happy to comply, Winter eagerly steps forward, craning her neck back slightly. Her breaths are even and calm as she closes her eyes. "There's something so... vulnerable about being collared. It's intoxicating," she explains.
"Do you want to know why?"
Winter's mouth opens but she stays quiet.
"Because girls like you, get a kick from relinquishing control. Once the collar's around your neck, you become mine. Completely. Whatever I say goes, isn't that so? And if you don't, you get a shock."
The silence grows until she begins to nod her head gently. "That's exactly it... I have a taste for the painful stuff. For the hurt and submission."
You loop the collar around Winter's neck. It fits as though it were made for her. Tightly fitted, enough to lightly choke her, enough to make sure the contacts within it touch her skin. You take the remote in hand and fiddle with the dial. A mild charge hums from the wires as they heat, preparing to punish.
"That's an agreeable buzz," she whispers with closed eyes. "Perfect."
"Perfect indeed. Now, Winter, on your knees for me." You barely give her a chance to process the request before you determine she has taken too long, and hit the button on the control. A low crackle emanates as it pumps voltage into her neck. Enough for the contacts to spark a single charge through her. Just a sharp sting of pain for a split second before she cries out. Her knees buckle, sending her to the floor, one hand grabbing at the collar as the other seeks a stable point in the soft black mats covering the room.
"Agh— f—fuck," she swears quietly as she gasps for air. "That hurt. So good." Her breaths are quick, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her eyes are wide with delight.
"Top, off."
With trembling hands, Winter holds the hem of her black top. This time you give her all the time she needs to take it off, but she doesn't. "Shock me, I'm a bad girl."
Without hesitation you bring a bigger jolt through the collar, causing her whole body to quiver. Winter shouts and winces, but the smile on her face as she takes it, and pulls her top over her head, tells you that everything's going to plan.
With her top now on the floor and no bra ever being underneath it, you observe how gorgeous she looks. With her small breasts, tiny frame and mischievous face. You stand in place and look, taking her body in and enjoying it. Her waist is so slim, and when her breath quickens, it accentuates that little curve of her abdomen, even a hint at the grooves on each side of her lower stomach.
"Again," she pleads, with puppy dog eyes that are part-glazed.
"You do have a taste for being hurt," you respond as you turn the voltage dial on the collar a little more. A click of your thumb later, and this time she yells louder. Tears well up in her eyes, but her smile only widens.
"I do," Winter pants out the two syllables like they're the only words she knows. "I do. I do. I do."
She repeats it over and over until you hit it again. Her knuckles go white as her body tightens. Muscles bunching in her back and in her arms and legs. Her lithe body trembling through another delicious jolt.
You reach down and grab her by the neck, fingers catching her just under the shock collar. A strangled gasp bursts from between her lips as her wide and eager eyes stare right at you, wet with lust. You pull her to her feet. There's no resistance, nor do you expect there to be. Once she's on her feet, she rushes her mouth to yours. A desperate, needy kiss. Hungry and moaning into your lips.
You break her away from you by pushing her back, sending her stumbling towards the bed. "Those shorts. Take them off."
The delighted gleam of hunger and sadism in your eye isn't lost on Winter. She quickly shakes her head, hoping to earn herself another round of pain.
"Think you deserve more? Think you've been a good enough girl?" You ask, taking a step closer. "Shorts first, then I'll treat you."
Winter does as she is told and lets her denim shorts fall. And just like her top, there's nothing beneath. An amused smile appears as her eyebrows bounce once, and she says, "Surprise!" in the most cute manner.
"I have to say, Winter, everything about you is a surprise. Such a cute little thing you are, but so devious too. I'd love to take you apart, bit by bit."
"Take me however you'd like," she chimes in.
"Yeah?" You turn away from her naked, helpless body and to the desk, picking up the prod and flick the switch to make it come alive. "With this?"
You turn and present the long silver rod, where at the end of it, two metal prongs protrude. You push the button and an arc of electricity forms between them. Winter's eyes roll back, and her thighs press tightly together. She squeezes her own chest as she whispers, "Please," over and over.
Slowly, you stalk toward Winter, you can almost see the ache radiating from her like she is a bomb ready to explode. Then suddenly, before she has a chance to register what's happening, you stab the prod forward into her left calf. Winter spasms and convulses, her teeth clench and her hands grasp at nothing but air. She wails in painful, tortured delight and falls to one knee.
Her other leg now too.
"Yes," she squeals, "F... Fuck. Thank you."
You grab a fist full of her blonde locks, twisting them tightly between your fingers as you drag back to her feet. "On the bed. Now," you tell her, your voice as ice cold as the lack of emotion on your face.
She whimpers as you pull her hard until she's flat on her back in the centre of the bed. It's about waist height, and you look down at her lithe, naked frame. Strands of blonde hair stick to her cheeks from perspiration and tears of pleasure. Her limbs tremble in aftershocks from the latest barrage of electricity that was shot through her, and her skin glistens.
"Please... Again. Please," she whimpers, a feeble creature now after the latest shock. "I'm so wet." Winter shifts one leg higher, spreading herself, and tilting her hips. With one hand you reach into her, plunging two fingers into her cunt.
"Fuck." She lets out a deep gasp and turns her head to look up at you, lips trembling, wet with her own spit, and asks again for more.
You withdraw your fingers and push the prod against her abdomen. Without hesitation, you make her body buck and her cry cut through the still air of the room. Winter yells and twists, kicking her feet wildly into the air as she twitches in her spot. When you stop she lies flat, panting and gasping and eyes streaming. She buries her own fingers into her cunt now.
"Please do it again, I'm going to cum." Her voice is croaky and scratchy from yelling but still thick with urgency and desire.
Another shock.
Another twitch of muscles.
Another shock.
Another scream, and then finally, Winter throws her head back as her pussy tightens around her own fingers and spasms and writhes as waves of pleasure and pain hit her simultaneously. She cries out incoherent words. Scratches her nails at her own thighs while rubbing her clit through her orgasm. Winter shakes and trembles before you, her mouth hung agape.
She's still cumming and this time you hit the button for the collar around her neck. The brief, sharp flash makes her shake harder. The pitch of her orgasmic scream pitches higher.
"Again," Winter calls.
One last time.
You jolt her again, and Winter reaches a fevered pitch as she shakes with more ecstasy than any one person could take. Her whole body is trembling as one large, unceasing wave of pleasure sweeps through every part of her body. The lewd expressions of overwhelming satisfaction as she slowly comes back down are almost enough for you to fuck her, and right there and then, you are tempted.
You throw the shock prod, now it's time to make the bed do the work. Winter has no fight in her as you take hold of her wrists and then ankles, fastening them one by one in bindings that hold her spread and vulnerable. There's a strap for her upper arm too, and her thighs, and finally across her slutty little waist. You make them all tight, and they're all wired up.
"What—? What are you doing?" Winter questions, turning her neck to take stock of the restraints.
You simply ignore her question and focus on attaching the last restraint, that sits across her upper chest, just below her collar bones. Then you walk across the room and press a large red button. A thrumming of electricity hums through the metal bars. Every contact point on her body warms up and a chorus of muffled cracks and sparks come to life around Winter.
"This is special," Winter mutters to herself, her tone hinting at awe. She struggles against her bonds and they're secure. Tight and secure. Even with that futile exertion, she has no escape and smiles at that realization. "Looks like you have me trapped. Can you really hurt a pretty little idol like me? Can you go as far as I need you to?"
Winter swallows hard as she watches your mouth twist into a malevolent sneer.
You hit the button.
She starts to shake. The moan from her lips is loud and almost primal, the exhale laced with pain and excitement. She moans out loud, thrashing against her shackles, her small body thrusting back and forth as the lowest setting courses through her.
You stand over her, looking down and watching the way her muscles tense and her fingers clench. Her toes curl and the moans grow louder, and more frequent. More desperate, she can barely get a word out but she still pleads for more, the word yes spewing from her lips amidst an unending list of other slurred sounds.
You leave her there for a moment, struggling, while you slide your hand into a thick rubber glove, working it up your arm.
"Please make me cum," Winter pants through an agony of pleasure.
You walk back to her, pressing your hand against her flat stomach. She trembles under your touch, you can feel the way her body vibrates through the glove. Her eyes go wide with fear and excitement.
"Hurry, it's so good!" Winter squirms against the bonds but can't move an inch. You take your time looking between her thighs, at her soft and bare cunt, a shade of pink between two rosy folds. It's so slick as her pussy begins to trickle with her lust.
The thick rubber of the glove goes into her hole and makes Winter yelp like the pathetic submissive slut that she is. You stretch her pretty little pussy so easily, thanks to how creamy it is. She's so messy. At the same time, you raise a thumb to the control and push it up a notch.
An explosion of lightning and a sensation between her legs and another strangled moan of desperation. Her head whips from side to side. "I can't, oh shit," Winter manages to blurt out, her voice reduced to a pathetic squeak.
With your finger hooking into her sensitive spot, and her body stimulated with an electrical current, Winter doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell. You fuck her hard and rough with your hand until your arm begins to ache. You play with the current of the bed and the collar, sending shocks through her when she least expects it. She climaxes before long, her legs pulling taut at the restraints. She cries, "More!" as she loses herself to the pulses of her orgasm.
And as her back arches as best as it can, she floods over your glove with cum and screams for it. Winter's release is incredible, it gushes all over you, but you just don't let up. She's absolutely out of control and has to suffer more. Winter can't escape any part of her restraints as they don't give up shocking her through her orgasm, one after the other.
Her face twists in the most fucked up combination of pain and pleasure. It's an incredible sight.
You're just pounding her tight little cunt. Stretching it as it gushes out all the cum she has to give. Her body struggles against all the different sensations. She just keeps spilling out onto the bed as her body shakes.
It's only when she starts to choke out her moans that you finally twist the dial down to zero. It takes a few seconds to turn it completely off but the damage was done. Winter is heaving for air and when you slowly withdraw the digit buried inside her, pulling the plug on her cum spilling out.
"Wait a second," she breathes out in between pants, "let me just..." Winter stares up at the ceiling as she works on stabilising her breathing. When the world seems to slow back to an acceptable pace, her lips turn up into a joyous little smile. "Shit," Winter winces as her hips buck, the throb in her core making her moan ever so softly. "I think I made a mess."
You lift your wrist and nod as if to agree. "You made a lot of a mess."
Her pale skin has turned flush and warm with a sheen of sweat from exertion. She takes a deep breath, letting the sensation of the electrocution linger. Winter looks radiant, so beautiful that the urge to do all those things you wanted to come bubbling back. But you stay strong, despite how tempting her glistening little body is as her chest rises and falls.
"No regrets though," Winter comments, stretching against the confines of her restraints. "I've never cum like that before in my life."
"It really suits you, being tied down like this, cumming over and over. Are you sure you don't want another round?"
With a slight chuckle, Winter closes her eyes and gives her head a feeble, exhausted shake. "I do, but I can't." She can't even bear to open her eyes, she's spent and in a state, unable to cope with the aftershocks anymore.
"This is more like the woman I expected, shy and frail and overwhelmed. I guess you're just so easily broken."
"How did I do?" She asks in a raspy voice.
"For a first time? Great. Most people don't make it to the bed. And not many people look that good when they're cumming."
Winter lifts her chin a little higher. "I did that well?"
"You did."
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osleeplessflowero · 11 months ago
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-🎃Scares and a Sudden Friendship🪓-
yes i am aware it is no longer halloween and it is now december. after this oneshot i will exclusively focus on winter themes, but i just HAD to get this idea out. Horror belongs to Sour Apple Studios. Reader goes by They/Them pronouns as always. 🧡 Warning for swearing! Horror goes by Sans here since this is in a Horrortale Post-Pacifist exclusive timeline.
It's a cold Halloween night.
You and your boyfriend decided to go to a Haunted House for the occasion after you finally managed to pester him enough.
"C'mon, c'mon! Hurry up!" You walk hurriedly along the sidewalk in your shark onesie, spotting the closest Haunted House that's covered in decorations, lights, and signs. Your boyfriend following slowly behind.
"I'm coming, jeez. I don't get why you get so excited over all this. We're grown now. This is kid stuff." He looks bored, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn't even dress up for the occasion, just wearing his normal fall clothes to keep warm.
"Hey, Halloween is fun for all ages." You point at him accusingly. "Besides, we can finally have some fun together tonight! You've been so busy doing your own stuff and I've missed you a lot, so this is a perfect chance to-"
"Yeah yeah..let's just get this over with. Maybe if we're lucky we can get some candy little kids dropped." He stomps on some old wrappers. Jeez..such a buzzkill. Oh well, he won't ruin your fun in here! You're sure his mood will turn around once you both get inside.
You both reach the entrance, you practically bouncing with excitement while your boyfriend seems to be distracted by some of the scare actors passing by.
You're both eventually let in after signing a slightly concerning waiver, walking inside. You admire the decorations and care put into the environments, occasionally having little jumps when animatronics pop out at you which just results in laughter afterwards. Your boyfriend on the other hand looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, rolling his eyes at some of the scares and pulling out his phone at one point.
Truth be told, the last few months haven't been..ideal with him. You've hardly had any time together and when you finally do he just ignores you or seems like he doesn't want to be there. You've started to wonder if he even really wants to be your partner anymore..
You shake your head. Now is not the right place to be thinking about that. You should be having fun!
You greet some of the scare actors, having more fun than fear. You assume this is what happens to most people with Bravery souls. There's a large variety of them, some monsters, some humans. All of them doing a very good job!
You both make your way through an escape room section, you doing most of the work. You finally find the key, unlocking the door.
"Here we gooo, next room, woo!" "Yaaay."
The next room you enter is filled with props like mannequins and hanging objects that are meant to look like ghosts.
You cling to your boyfriend's arm, feeling unsettled as you both progress. He actually seems to tense up this time as well, looking around. It's quiet in the room..you feel a chill go down your spine.
You make your way down a small hallway that leads into the next area, jolting when a tall monster jumps out at you both with a fake hatchet. You jump back, your boyfriend screams, pushes you aside and..runs off. Without you.
You stare in the direction he ran off in, eyes wide in disbelief.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" You put your hands on your head, feeling tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes.
He just..left you.
He ran off without you in a scary unfamiliar location.
He abandoned you.
You try to hold back your tears when a bony hand rests on your shoulder. You look up to see the scare actor lifting up his mask, revealing eyelights with one empty and the other having a bright red circle in it, focusing on you.
"...don't waste your tears over that guy. 's okay." His voice is deep, a comforting sound to hear in a way. It's oddly soft despite his sharp appearance. You try not to look at that large cracked hole in his head. He probably appreciates that.
He raises up the other hand, wiping your tears away.
"I am so breaking up with him." "yikes. that guy's your boyfriend? some partner, leaving your datemate in an unfamiliar place alone." "Not anymore. I'm dumping him." "good call." "..Could you maybe..show me where the exit is? I don't really have the drive to go through here all by myself." You hold your arm shyly.
"i'll do you one better." He holds out his prop hatchet, handing it to you.
You look at it then at him, raising a brow.
"let's go scare the shit out of him."
You grin wide, taking the hatchet from him as he goes to pull his mask back down.
The two of you run out of the room and the moment you spot him you start SPRINTING, the skeleton following close behind.
The moment he finds the exit the two of you burst out laughing, taking a few seconds to compose yourselves.
"So..I'm gonna be removing his number from my phone..any chance I could have yours, stranger?" You point finger guns at him.
He seems surprised for a moment, before simply lifting his mask back up and smiling.
"just call me sans. nice to meet'cha." He gives you his number and you make sure to save it. "You too, Sans. Would you like to..I dunno, go get coffee or something? I'd like to get to know you." "i wouldn't mind. how does tomorrow sound?" "Great."
The two of you smile at each other before Sans' boss tells him to get back to work, and you wave goodbye before sending a text to your boyfriend to tell him you want to talk.
Part 2
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juneknight · 1 year ago
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Giving Thanks
Cute little Thanksgiving themed blurb featuring DRM for the girlies in the roleplay discord and A most of all.
About this: Marc spending Thanksgiving alone in the dorms? Not on your watch.
Immersivity: Reader is AFAB though physically undescribed and unnamed. She does attend college and does have a family which celebrates Thanksgiving in typical American fashion.
*
You’re not supposed to be here. 
Using your badge to get into the dorms is easy. Catching Marc when he is in the dorm room is harder. He was prone to melancholy, and his melancholy made him prone to wandering: the university pathways between buildings, the library, the baseball field. Before he had moved into  your dorm room, he was almost never at his own. 
Though you had invited (begged) him to come home with you for Thanksgiving, he had insisted on staying behind at the dorms. You knew his home life was complicated, his emotional connection to the word ‘family’ just as complex, so you hadn’t pushed him, even if leaving him alone during a holiday was painful. 
Staring at the mountains of leftovers your family always left behind after Thanksgiving lunch, you had decided on the spur of the moment that there was no way you were going to let Marc spend this day alone. Taking two disposable muffin tins, you had piled them both full of different foods, creating a classic American Thanksgiving smorgasbord: turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie, fresh whipped cream and more. 
Technically, you weren’t supposed to be in the dorms—not after you had signed your waiver stating you would be away for the holidays–but fuck, it would be worth it to see Marc’s face. It would be worth it to see him, to wrap your arms around him in a hug, to see him light up the way he always seemed to when you were around—
“What are you doing here?” 
You whirl around, nearly upending the muffin tins when Marc’s voice calls out from behind you just outside your dorm room door. He’s wearing his winter coat, the thick boots that keep his feet warm while he stomps his way across the cold pavement. A beanie is tugged low over his head, curls peeking out against his forehead and ears. His cheeks are flushed a little beneath his typical tan skin. 
“Have you been following me?” you ask. 
“Ever since you got out of your car. I was just coming back from the library and I saw you, you little sneak.” 
“Happy Thanksgiving!” you blurt out, holding out the muffin tins. His eyes fall to them, and something in his gaze goes warm. 
“You…brought me lunch,” he says. 
*
You end up as lunch.
The muffin tins and their contents are growing cool while Marc spreads you out on the table with the mismatched chairs (half yours and half his own, like a little blended family that you had joint custody of). He peels off your boots and socks and pulls down your leggings, spreading your thighs out as wide as your body allows, til your pussy is exposed to the cool air of the dorm. 
Then he eats you—and Marc is a messy eater. He eats your pussy without any sense of shame, no embarrassment at the sounds his mouth makes (nor any cruel amusement in the sounds your own body makes) as he works you over with lips, tongue, and teeth. Sweet Marc always starts with his lips: pecks against your thighs and vulva that turn into wet, sucking kisses, his tongue slipping between your folds and pressing in deep against your entrance like you’re leaking honey and not just slick. His smooth jaw works against you, stimulating your sensitive sex while he latches his lips over your clit and sucks, soft and sweet. It is all remarkably rushed for the likes of Marc (who usually drags sex out into a marathon-performance instead of a sprint), but you hardly mind when your muscles tense, thighs shaking from how far apart they are spread as you soak his face and the table with your orgasm. 
“Oh my god,” you slur, trembling like a leaf. You can’t stop shaking as he stands, his hands falling to his belt. The soft clink as he undoes it instills a Pavlovian response in you, and even though you have just cum, you ache with emptiness. 
“Want to fuck you,” he mutters, jaw still wet with your slick. “Can I?” 
“God, yes.” 
“Hold yourself open.” 
You reach down and spread the lips of your pussy open, watching with a watering mouth as he works his pants and underwear down just beneath his cock. Fuck, his boots are still on. Why is that so sexy? 
With his hands on your thighs, he drags you to the edge of the table. Marc leans over you, cock nudging at your entrance when he plants his palms on the oak. He watches your expression as the fat head of him splits you open. He likes to see the way your mouth goes slack, your eyes roll back, your nails scramble for purchase against the smooth wood. 
“So good to me, bringing me food,” he mutters, curls brushing your forehead when he leans down to kiss you. “Bringing me this pretty pussy. How’d you know I was hungry? How’d you know how bad I missed you?”  
“It’s–It’s–Th-Th-Thanksgiv—oh my fucking god, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You dissolve, the subtle height the table provides you pressing him against all your most sensitive spots. At the apex of each thrust, his pubic bone grinds against your clit, still buzzing from his tongue. 
“This is me giving thanks,” Marc says, laughing breathily at his own joke, each word punctuated by a thrust that you feel all the way in your guts.
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cozage · 2 years ago
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Made for Two
A/N: Should there be a part three? Let me know. But also kjdsfshdfh;elihfsd;hfdfdfrukhjdslfh I loved writing this. I almost cried a few times at how disgustingly sweet it is. 
Characters: gn reader x Sanji
Cw: some angst and sadness, reader going through a breakup :(
Total word count: 3.3k Brief Summary: You thought Zoro was the only person for you, but after a bad breakup, a certain cook attempts to cheer you up.
Part One < | > Part Four | Masterlist
Recipe for Two
Your fingers outstretched, seeking the warmth of another body on this chilly morning. You must’ve arrived near a winter island overnight, and the heating system hadn’t kicked on yet. Your hands came back empty, and you resisted the urge to cry. 
You remembered yesterday, Sanji’s kindness and his delectable food he had served up just for you. You remembered how he climbed into bed the night before and you curled into him, falling asleep easily for the first time in days. 
But he was gone now, and his warmth was too. You opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them, trying to shake the disappointment of being alone again. 
You got up and changed into a new, warmer outfit for a new, colder day. It wasn’t until you stood at your door that you realized you couldn’t leave. Leaving meant facing Zoro. And you weren’t ready to see his mossy hair or his tanned skin yet. But leaving also meant seeing Sanji. Your hand rested on the door handle, weighing your options of stepping into the light or hiding in the darkened room. 
A double knock came from the other side of the door, making the decision for you. You swung the door open, meeting the blue eyes of your favorite cook. He looked surprised that you answered so quickly, but a smile quickly spread across his face when he saw you. 
“Morning,” he said, holding up a silver platter. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, but I brought breakfast.”
You smiled at him and stepped aside to let him into your room, but he stayed where he was outside your door. 
“I thought we could eat out on the deck today,” he offered, glancing outside. Your heart pounded in your chest at the thought.
He must’ve seen the panic in your eyes, because you saw his face fall slightly as he watched you waiver. 
“I suppose that would be okay,” you say hesitantly. The last thing you wanted to do was be out in the open for a long period of time, but Sanji made you feel safe. All you had to do was focus on him, and you’d be okay. 
The sun was still low in the sky when you walked onto the deck, and a piece of you breathed a sigh of relief. Zoro would still be sleeping for at least a little while longer. It would be unlikely that you would run into him if you could finish breakfast fast enough. 
Sanji directed you over to a table on the grass that was under the shade of the tree. Freshly squeezed orange juice sat in two glasses, and he pulled the chair out for you to take a seat. He placed the silver tray in front of you, removing its lid, and sat across from you. His own plate had food on it this morning, and you smiled at the change from last night. 
“You set the table for two today,” you say, looking at his plate. 
“You shouldn’t have to eat alone,” he returned your smile and raised his glass. 
You mirrored him, clinking your all’s drinks together, and took a sip before digging into the breakfast he had prepared for you.
“Ah,” Sanji said softly, looking around. “I forgot something in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” He got up quickly and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone. 
You could hear footsteps on the deck above you, and your heart quickened as you heard them descend down the steps. Your eyes stay fixated on the food in front of you, scared at who you might find if you look up. 
“Y/N!” Nami’s voice pierced the air, and you felt your muscles relax at her voice. 
You looked up just in time to see the tangerine haired girl drop into the seat across from you. She casually grabbed a piece of bacon off of Sanji’s plate and began snacking on it. “How are you doing?”
“I’m…” You stop for a moment, trying to think about how to best answer that question. “I’m okay, I think.”
The navigator’s eyes light up at your answer. A smile flickers across her face, and she takes a drink of the orange juice sitting in front of her. 
“Really?” Her eyes slide over to the entrance of the kitchen, but she doesn’t say anything further. 
You laugh slightly and roll your eyes at her implication. “It’s not like that, Nami.”
“Oh, it’s not?” She lets out a loud and piercing laugh. “I heard he didn’t go back to the boys cabin last night. You’ve been around Sanji almost as long as I have, and you really think its-”
You hear a door swing open behind you, and she pauses. 
“It’s not!” You cry out, taking the opportunity to defend yourself. You turn around to find the cook, trying to get someone else on your side. “Sanji, will you please tell Nami that nothing happened last-”
You find moss hair instead of blonde, and you’re stunned into silence. You lock eyes with the swordsman for a few seconds, before he cuts his eyes to the table and food in front of you. 
“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, turning away from you and Nami. You can feel your cheeks pink at the implication of his words. He slinks away, climbing up into the crow's nest.
“Good morning to you too,” Nami huffs at him under her breath, leaning back in the chair. “He’s been like that since…” she trails off, realizing her error.
You stare at your eggs, having suddenly lost your appetite. You hear a door swing open and the familiar click of Sanji’s shoes across the wood of the Sunny, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 
Sanji’s sweet voice comes from behind you as he approaches. “I was thinking we could make macarons today, like we talked about?”
You hear his words, but you don’t respond. You can’t bring yourself to break your gaze away from the eggs on your plate. You hear the hatch slam shut from the crow’s nest above and you flinch at the sharp sound. A moment later, blaring music filled the air. 
“Stupid marimo,” the cook hisses. You can see him and Nami exchange glances with each other. “Do you want-”
“I’m fine,” you snap, blinking away the tears that were misting your eyes. You grab some toast from your plate and shove it into your mouth, painfully aware of Sanji and Nami’s eyes on you while you do it. 
The three of you sat in silence with only Zoro’s music to fill the air. Nami picked at her plate while Sanji lit another cigarette, and you did your best to eat despite the overwhelming urge to throw it up. 
“You don’t have to finish it,” Sanji said, watching you struggle. 
You didn’t respond. You just kept eating. You were thankful for Sanji’s grace, but you knew how much he hated wasting food. Thankfully Luffy saved you. He zoomed by, saw the food, and made a quick u-turn back to the table. 
“Sanjiiiiii,” he whined, looking at the spread laid before you and Nami. 
“You can have it,” you said, pushing the plate away from you and standing to your feet. Luffy didn’t seem to notice your mood as you walked away from the table, and he dug into the food you had abandoned with blissful glee. 
Sanji stepped forward and reached for your arm. “Do you want-“
“I’m not feeling well actually,” you said, dodging his advance to make a beeline for your room. “I’m just gonna go back to bed.” 
You stopped for a moment at the door, and turned around one last time. “Thank you for the meal, Sanji. It really was amazing.”
He smiled at you and nodded. “I’ll call you for lunch.”
You shook your head. “A knock will be fine.” And with that, you left the deck of the Sunny and returned to your darkened room. 
At lunchtime, a double knock came at your door once, and then again. Your eyes flicked over to the door, illuminated by the soft glow of the new fairy lights strewn around your room. But you stayed in your bed, safe under the covers. One more double knock came, but after a moment, you heard the soft click of Sanji's shoes receding away from your room. 
He knocked at tea time, and again at dinner, but you never got out of bed to answer him. Every time you heard him knock, a piece of you begged to get up and meet him halfway. But you could never get your body to move the way your mind wanted you to.
You didn’t cry. Not as much as you thought you would. You had a bit of a meltdown after breakfast, but it seemed like you had run out of tears since then. Now you were stuck in a state of immobility. Incapable of moving, incapable of caring. 
A few hours after dinner, a double knock came again. It came again, and then a third and fourth time. 
“Are you hungry?” a soft voice asked through the door after the fourth knock.
“No.”
He waited a moment before speaking again. “Do you want…company?”
You hesitated. You did want Sanji to stay with you. But you also didn’t. The whole thing was very confusing and entirely too much for you to process right now. 
“Y/N?” The cook called from the other side of the door. 
“No.” 
The reservoir of tears must’ve refilled at some point, because they spilled out onto your pillow as you heard his footsteps retreat from your room.
You tossed and turned for hours, the bed feeling too big to be alone in. You finally gave up on trying to sleep and got up to find something to eat. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and tiptoed out of your room onto the deck. It was still freezing outside, the winter climate lingering.
You were surprised to see the kitchen light on, and you peeked inside the window to see who was up at this late hour. 
Sanji’s back was to you, leaning onto the counter. He was reading the News Coo, an unlit cigarette held in his hand. 
Your hand raised to the door. Your knuckles rapped against the door twice, and you saw him tense at the sound. When he turned, he found your figure peering through the porthole and he smiled at you. 
Your heart soared as he rose from the chair and walked to the door, unbolting the lock he had in place during the night. He opened the door and held it for you as you walked in.
You walked towards the fridge, looking for something to snack on to ease your hunger. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, which was your own stupid fault, but maybe you could find something to hold you over until tomorrow. 
“What are you doing?” Sanji asked. You could hear the snap of his lighter, and the familiar smell of fresh cigarette smoke filled the air. 
“I’m just going to grab a small snack, if that's okay.”
“No, it’s not okay,” he said sharply. You froze at his words, trying to understand. Was he really going to punish you so harshly for not eating any of his cooking today?
“Sit,” he said, walking over to the stove. “I’ll make you something.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I know.” He sighed, pulling out some pots and pans. “But I want to. For you.”
You stood in the middle of the kitchen, dumbfounded at his response. He was being so kind to you, after you had avoided him all day and hadn’t even eaten the food he had worked so hard to make for you. He set the pots and pans down on the prep counter and turned, pausing to look at you. 
You stood there staring at each other for a few moments before he smiled at you. You searched for it, but there was no hostility behind his eyes. Only kindness.
“I need to get to the fridge,” he whispered, still smiling down at you. You blinked, suddenly aware of your position in the room. You shuffled quickly to the side, allowing him access to the refrigerator. 
“Sit down, my love. Please.” Sanji hadn’t called you that pet name since you and Zoro broke up, and it took you by surprise. You couldn’t deny that it sounded nice rolling off his lips. 
You did as instructed, and you silently sat and watched him cook. Sanji worked silently as well, the only sound that filled the air was boiling water and the chopping of ingredients. 
He ladled out two bowls of soup, placing one in front of you and the other in front of himself. 
“Why soup?” 
He smiled and took a drag from his cigarette, deep in thought. You brought a spoon to your lips, blowing gently on it while waiting for an answer.
“My mom used to make it for me,” he finally said. He looked down at his bowl as if he were trying to recall an old memory. “Whenever I wasn’t feeling well.”
It was the first time you had heard him mention anything from his childhood. Sanji talked a lot about the Baratie and Zeff when people asked, but he hadn’t mentioned his life before that much. And he certainly never mentioned his mother. 
“Did she teach you how to cook?” you asked, trying to tread lightly. 
Sanji chuckled softly to himself, as if he were thinking about a joke only he would understand. 
“No, that was Zeff. But she always supported my dream to be a chef. She ate everything I made.” You could hear his voice growing thick, as if he might start crying. “She was amazing.”
She was amazing. You tried to ignore the use of past tense in Sanji’s words, but it was obvious that it was painful for him to think about her. You allow the spoon to pass through your lips and take a taste. Flavor fills your mouth, equally bold as it is comforting. 
“I can see why she made it. It’s delightful.” You grab another spoonful and bring it to your lips, hoping this one will cool faster than the last. 
Sanji smiled, finally looking up from his bowl at you. His mood lightened and his enthusiasm returned to him. 
“Yeah!” He agreed. “It really is delicious, isn’t it? I love to make it, but it never turns out right when you try to make a big pot to share with everyone. It's a smaller, more intimate meal. It’s really just made for two.”
“You and your mom?”
He nods. “And now for me and you.”
You return his smile with one of your own, and you eat the rest of your meal in silence. You can’t help but thank the universe for working out to place this eager blonde cook on the same ship as you on this vast ocean. You didn’t understand how someone like Sanji could exist, but you were thankful for him nonetheless. 
When you finished your bowl, he took it from you and placed it in the sink. He ran water to start the dishes, and began cleaning up the rest of the kitchen. 
“Are you still hungry?” He asked, looking at you.
“No, no,” you say quickly, not wanting him to burden himself further. “That was perfect actually. Your mom knows what she’s doing.”
He smiled at you, but you catch a glimpse of sadness in his eyes as he turns away, and you silently curse yourself for bringing up his mother again. 
“Can I help with anything?” you ask, trying to recover from your slip up. 
“I’ve got it, thank you though. You should get to bed.”
You bite your lip and watch him stack up the dishes in the sink before he turns back to begin wiping down the counters. You really don’t want to go back to your room. And you’ve been alone all day, you’d rather not return to it yet. 
You walk over to the sink, and begin to scrub at the bowls with the sponge.
“You don’t have to-”
“I know,” you say. “But I want to. For you.”
You can see his cheeks redden at your comment, but he says nothing. The two of you silently clean up together, enjoying each other's company while doing your own tasks. 
When you both finish, you walk out onto the deck together. Sanji turns off the kitchen light and locks the door to discourage your captain from sneaking in for a midnight snack, and the two of you are plunged into the inky darkness of the night. Only a few soft lights shine on the deck now, and you can see thousands of stars in the sky above you. 
You gasp in surprise, and softly touch Sanji’s arm to get his attention. 
“It’s beautiful!” you whisper, excitement in your voice. 
“Indeed,” Sanji says, watching you. “Should I turn out the lights so we can see better?”
You nod, and the two of you walk around to extinguish the lights on the deck. You return to the grassy area and lay down next to each other, your eyes to the sky. The cold was already nipping at your nose, but you ignored it.
“Do you think we’ll see a shooting star?” you ask, looking over at the cook. 
He chuckles. “Maybe if you keep your eyes on the sky.”
Your gaze returns to the stars, looking for any sign of movement. After a few minutes of nothing, Sanji sighs in defeat. 
“We should get to bed,” he says sadly. “It’s too cold out here for us to stay much longer.”
“A few more minutes!” you beg in a hushed tone. You scoot closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder, desperate for warmth.
“Alright, alright.” He wraps his arm around you to get comfortable, and you snuggle further into him. Your eyes are still on the sky, but you can feel your cheeks warm from being so close to him again. 
You sit in silence for a few more minutes, waiting for any sign of movement in the sky. Your fingers and toes feel numb, and you can see your breath, but you’re determined to find one shooting star before you have to go inside. 
“There!” you cry out, and you watch a star streak across the sky.
“Make a wish,” Sanji mutters, and you can hear his teeth chattering through his words. 
You wished for warmer weather, for a night where the cold didn’t force you two inside away from each other and the beauty of the sky above you. 
But it didn’t come, and the two of you got up and turned on all of the lights that you had extinguished and quietly tiptoed back into the cabin area. 
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Sanji said, his teeth still chattering. He started to walk towards the boys room. 
“Sanji?” you called, and you saw him pause and turn back to you. 
“Yes?”
“Can I request company? Or is it too late?” You asked. You were thankful for the darkness and the cold. It hid the blush that rushed to your cheeks.
“It’s never too late for that, my love. Let me change and I’ll be over.”
You nod and return to your room, changing into warm pajamas to stay comfortable through the night. Two knocks came at your door, and you opened the door quietly to let him in. 
You crawled into bed, and he followed you. He pulled you into him without remorse, and his freezing fingers sent shivers down your back. 
“Are you as cold as I am?” he whispered to you softly. 
“Freezing.” Your cold feet rubbed against his legs to prove your point, and he stifled a laugh and he pulled his legs away from your assault. 
“Rude!” He whispered back to you, but he pulled you close to him and held you tight. He returned his legs back to their place, intertwined with yours. “Sweet dreams, my love.”
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roe-and-memory · 7 months ago
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the off season can get boring.
lightning hates being bored.
it’s sort of like his own personal hell, and on those chilly winter days when theres not a flake of snow but you can feel it in the air, he wishes he was still able to run late model races like he did before the piston cup. back then, he could still find a track running races in a little bit of chilly weather and he could get out and do some laps, but the piston cup doesnt work like that - they dont run in the winter, FOUR MONTHS of sitting around doing nothing until the fireball 500, and it drives him mad.
he Needs to be moving, and running around isnt what hes talking about. he needs to be in the dirt, driving at 200 mph like his life depends on it, winning something, competing in something…
doc is quick to pick up on this restlessness. you cant just live in the same house as a teenager and not feel the tension in the air when he gets told he needs to take a break. and, because lightning is his kid and he knows him better than anyone, he knows EXACTLY what lightning is longing for.
its cold, the sun is barely above the mountains of cadillac range, and lightning is sitting on the front porch in his rusteze racing jacket playing with that stupid gas station lighter that never seems to run out of fluid. doc steps out onto the porch, car keys in one hand, crutch around his opposite forearm. hes a man with a plan to get this restless kid some racing time.
kingman raceway isnt too far, maybe two hours, and doc is well aware of the schedule that lizzie plasters on her window every winter when the spokesman for the track pops into town to drop off flyers. today is a sprint race, and if hes not gonna sign lightning up to do SOMETHING then he’d be the worst father in the world.
he doesnt have a sprint car, but doc happens to know a guy, and everything is already set up. he gets lightning in the car and theyre on their way to kingman - the 19 year old in his ear the whole way asking him “where are we going?” “please tell me its not an interview, i’ll lose my mind, doc.”
“just wait.” is all he can say.
lightning raced stock and late models, not sprint, and doc can feel the slight disappointment when they pull into the track and the peculiar looking sprint cars are sitting on trailers or parked outside the garage door of the shop.
they get out and stretch before doc leads him to the ticket booth, where they’re greeted by a kind older woman, who seemingly recognizes him and ushers the two to the garage.
lightning is confused. what is even happening right now? doc is striking up conversation with some random guy and lightning is left wandering, looking around, watching the mechanics and tense drivers work away on their cars..
then, a waiver and a pen are shoved into his hands, and doc stands there with a sly grin. “you wanted to race, didnt you?”
“well, yeah. i dont know how to drive a sprint car though.”
“trust me, kiddo, you’ll get it”
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sophie-hatter-jenkins · 1 year ago
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Scarf
Written for @hinnymicrofic November 2023 - Prompt 11
(Warning for a bit of bad language and a brief torture reference)
Winter came early in 1997, and Ginny was glad. Glad of the cold. Glad of any excuse to wrap the scarlet and gold Gryffindor scarf around her neck. 
She wore it to class, as the cold winds whipped down the corridors, or leached in from the old stones of the dungeons. She wore it in the Great Hall, to breakfast, lunch and dinner, eating silently alongside her classmates. She wore it huddled in bed, curtains drawn against prying eyes. She wore it in the Room of Requirement, as she helped to arm the younger ones against their tormentors. She wore it, head held high and eyes defiant, as she headed into the Forbidden Forest, for detention with Hagrid. She wore it curled up and shaking on the floor, for detention with the Carrows, the word Crucio ringing in her ears. She wore it every time she escaped, just for a little while, hurtling around on a broom, high above the Black Lake, lips chapped and knuckles raw with the cold, exposed parts that the scarf could not protect.
She wore it every chance she got, and she wore it because it gave her strength. She wore it because it warmed her soul as much as it warmed her body. But most of all, she wore it as a silent act of defiance, a ‘fuck you’ to Snape, to the Carrows hiding in plain sight around her neck. She wore it because it was Harry’s scarf.
Ginny carried that little bit of Harry with her all through that winter, pilfered from his trunk, left abandoned since June. Whenever she waivered. Whenever she needed comfort. Whenever she needed to call to mind the feel of his arms around her, of his lips on hers, she breathed in the scent of him, clinging to the soft wool; broomstick polish, soap and something sweet. Was it chocolate, or treacle tart? She was never quite sure. His scent must have faded, after a while, but somehow Ginny could still smell him, or perhaps just the memory of him. Either way, it was enough. It had to be.
Winter came early in 1997, just as spring came late, and Ginny carried Harry with her, around her neck, and in her heart.
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howlingday · 8 months ago
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AU idea.
What if jaune went to atlas instead of beacon?
Nother AU fer the pile...
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"General Ironwood, sir!"
"At ease, Lieutenant Schnee." The leading specialist retracted her salute and stood with more relaxed stance. "I need your opinion on something."
"And you couldn't ask anyone else, sir?" The question was not in any manner of defiance, but in curiosity for elaboration.
"No." He shook his head. "Anyone else I ask would simply agree with what I decide."
"Have you made a decision, sir?"
"Not yet, but I have been weighing my options." He slides a tablet across the desk and, once it settles close to the edge, Winter moves to take it. On the screen was a young man, little older than her sister, with unkempt, blond hair and blue eyes of naivety. "I want your opinions on this young man."
"Understood, sir."
She scanned the document, noting quickly the errors made across the screen. Signed, but not stamped. Key blocks unmarked or marked erroneously. This was either a forgery or she was going to have to wring admin by their necks. The latter made her scowl.
"Do you understand?" The general asked.
"Yes, sir." She nodded. "This is a forgery."
"It's no forgery." He shook his head. "I've triple checked."
"Then admin aren't doing their jobs, sir."
"Admin hasn't seen this yet." He shook again. "This transcript was messaged to me directly."
"Directly, sir? But how-"
"I'm not sure, but I intend to find out." He took the tablet back from Winter and set it to the side. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he spoke. "And I also intend to enroll him."
"S-Sir?" This was a first. She'd never been shaken before. "He has no formal education noted, not even self-taught. He could present a danger to Academy!"
"Are you questioning my decision?"
"I'm questioning your reasoning, sir, because you have none!" At this, he rose, crossing his desk to tower over her. "S-Sir?"
"You are aware that I am your commanding officer, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir." She gulped but did not take her eyes off his. "But I am also your deputy, your lieutenant, and if what the other specialists say is true, I am also your 'top fighter,' and I believe I speak on each of those authorities when I say that this decision could prove disastrous."
There was a long, agonizing silence held between them. He stood firm while she quivered ever so slightly. She hadn't been in her position longer than a month, and yet here she was, standing against him in what could be considered an act of treason. As he raised his hand, she resisted the urge to flinch, only doing so when it landed on her shoulder.
"Good." He smiled. "I can't have a second who's afraid to tell me I'm wrong." She gave a sigh. "However, that doesn't change my opinion. I'd like to enroll him into Atlas and mold him into a proud defender of Atlas."
"Sir, you're forgetting a crucial detail." She sighed. "His transcript is... Sir, it's FUBAR."
"Winter," he chuckled, "there's a waiver for that."
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a-moral-orel-blog · 9 months ago
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Hoi! Here is me trying to figure out how to draw Orel and Christiana. I leaned for a wider face for Christiana while I tried more box like proportions for orel. I'm not sure how much I like it, but it's ok.
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Next is a more Gothic outfit for Christiana, or at least an eary stage one. I've heard of the idea of Christiana's Nature episodes being called Nuture. I've not put much thought into it, but it could be a mother daughter trip where Poppit shows her some base things for being a "perfect housewife."
The entire time, Christina is more interested in reading or perhaps doing some schoolwork. Poppit dislikes how Christiana is disinterested in what she is being shown. Yada Yada. At one point, Christiana asks what if she doesn't want to be a housewife, but build a career. Cue rant from Poppit about how men need women to take care of them(parallel to Clays rant)(kinda).
Not sure what happens from here or how I got so off topic. Back to the drawing.
After the events of that trip, she tries to distance herself from what her mom wants her to be. Her outfit, while not colored, is a black dress Christiana had from some event, with a cheap tee shirt over it, a black belt from her father's room, several necklaces she had gathered, and some winter boots she had lying around. Her style will evolve as she grows. But I wanted to make a first outfit.
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And the last image of the day is, of course, of Orel. Like Christiana, he uses the Goth culture as a way to assert control of his life. After season 3, his faith in his parents, the people of Morelton, and God shatters. He loses hope for a while. One day, Stephenie shows introduces him to some of her Goth friends, and he is absolutely interested in learning more. Stephenie and her friend introduce him to the music, the fashion, and the community. Where God was once an escape, now he has Stephenie and her friends to escape.
I still think Orel would believe in God, even if his faith waivers. Perhaps Orel could meet Christians outside of Morelton and see their is a huge multitude of ways to have religion in one's life. However, his Goth phase could help him gain a new community of people to be a part of.
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haloslips · 13 days ago
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tz + weather
It's February when it happens, which is embarrassing, frankly, that the Ducks couldn't hold out until the deadline, just put him on waivers on a balmy Tuesday morning. One last embarrassment to end an embarrassing career with them, Trevor thinks, head tilted against the headrest so he can watch through the plane window as the pilot announces their descent.
"The weather in Seattle has you in for a treat if this is your final destination," she says, "because it's a rare day of winter sunshine. Expect rain tomorrow and after."
Rain, tomorrow and after -- sounds about fucking right.
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plasmasimagination · 1 year ago
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Hi! Congrats on getting 300+ followers!! If it's cool, may I get a matchup for Honkai Star Rail? (Sorry if it's long,,,, I'm just super excited and happy for youu windidbid) (please no sampo)
I'm an INFJ who's pronouns are she/they. My sun in Gemini, my moon is in Ares and my rising is cancer.
I'd describe myself as curious, easily excitable, pretty witty, a bit shy, bubbly, and low-key feral. I'm observant and calculating by nature, but I tend to keep that hidden. At times, I do tend to be depressive and super anxious (due to past bullying). In addition, I have a habit of being really hard on myself and pushing myself to my limits. I'm in a better place now, but sometimes it haunts me.Gaining my trust is pretty hard, but if you do, I'm riding or dying for life.
I like to try new things(, foods, activities, ext.) The issue is I have a weak stomach and get sick easily if I don't get enough sleep 😅 (strong mind, weak body hdudbdj)
I love cozy things!!(soft pastels, blankets, oversized sweaters, big scarves, stuffed animals, fairy lights) But I also have a love for the macabre My favourite outfit on cooler days consist of oversized sweaters, leggings, runners and a giant blanket scarf on top!
My hobbies include reading, writing, singing (in private) drawing, napping, learning new things, and playing video games. In the winter I love to figureskate!!! I know a bunch of tricks on the ice.
People have described me the following:
super self-aware
Constantly nervous (kinda true),
" riddle wrapped in an enigma, locked in a box, then shoved in a beehive" - my sibling
the grandma friend (Specifically the one wanting for their husband to come home from the war idk why tho)
Unhinged at times
Goofy insights
I tend to joke around with my older sister about them buying me something (like a snack or something) but the moment they say "alright bet" and then proceed to buy me the said thing I get flustered and be like "noooooo :(( I was just kidding >_< pls i take it backkkkkk)) because I'm not used to being on the receiving end of this kind of stuff.
I actually like to sing. It's just that I'm shy about it and only sing when I'm either by myself or comforting someone. When people catch me singing, they’re shocked af. I've had an where people from my church group with the priest (like around 30) caught me singing, and we had a staring contest for about 15 seconds before they bombarded me in compliments.
I've eaten a burrito with North Carolina Reaper sauce out of curiosity and ended up getting sick as a result (I even had to sign a waiver when I ordered it ahebej)
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Thank youuu!
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HELLOO HI HI HI HI CUTIEPIEEEEE, absolutely thankful for the amazingly written request *mwah mwah mwah* was very easy for me to write because you let me know everything I needed
And I match you up with
.
.
.
JING YUAN
No words. You two are a match made in heaven
Your calculating nature + his observant nature = absolute power duo
He would absolutely not allow you to push yourself to your limits. He will nicely distract you from something he thinks you're overdoing/ hurting yourself by doing it, he will tell you there's no need for it, and reassure you
YOU LIKE COZY THINGS?? WELL GREAT!! Jing yuan himself is just super cozy to be around, he's like a huge cotton ball, super soft and cuddly!!!
You say you're constantly nervous? Take a Jing yuan, he might not make it dissapear, he's not god obviously, but he will try his best to calm you down, telling you to breath, speaking softly to you, just generally trying his best to make you be comfortable
Enigma....hm not a problem for Jing yuan, as we know he can reach deep into people's hearts and feelings, i assume he would also be like that with you, taking his sweet time over the course of you guys being together to understand you, every small thing about you, even some things you didn't even know yourself about yourself
He always can't help to chuckle at how sweet and cute you are at times, he's the type of man to get you anything you ever dreamed off, and will spoil you in every category, and he finds it even more satisfying seeing your reactions to his small surprises
All in all, I think you two are perfect for each other and when u marry I expect to be invited to the wedding 🥰🗡️
Don't forget to eat and drink babe, take rest, and stay cute
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panda-writes-kpop · 1 year ago
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Sweet Sugar Plum ~ Yoohyeon
A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! We've only got two more slushie fics (both thankful and sad lol) until the normal content continues. 🫶
TW: You and Yooh can't skate, violence mentions, you both nearly take each other out (but not in a fun way)
♡ Masterlist ♡ 》》》 Prompt List
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A Sugar Plum Slushie is a reminder of winter and every sweet surprise it holds. Although the weather can be sour, not everything about the season is negative.
You and Yoohyeon cling to each other as you carefully hold onto the railing of the ice skating rink.
"Why did we ever think this was a good idea when neither of us can skate?" Yoohyeon whines as you carefully pull yourself along the railing.
"I'm not sure, but I think I'm gonna go down if you don't let go of me."
"I'm gonna fall if I don't let go of you!" She argues back, and you sigh as you scoot her and yourself an inch closer to the exit.
"We're still about six feet from the exit, Yooh. We're gonna be here for a while." You say before pushing yourself forward another inch. "Do you wanna go out for hot chocolate after this?"
"Yeah, that sounds great." Her voice waivers as you nearly trip and cause her to tumble. "Ah, watch it! I'm gonna fall!!"
"If we ever make it to the exit, I'm never going to let you live this down." You mutter under your breath.
Yoohyeon sighs before pointing ahead of you.
"Don't worry, I think SuA has that part covered."
You sigh as your eyes land on SuA. She's laughing like a fiend while recording the two of you with her phone.
"I think I'm actually gonna let you swing at her when we get on non-slippery, solid ground." You tell her as you carefully inch yourself towards the exit.
"That might actually make my day." She says as you finally make it out of the rink.
You help her out, and you both sigh in relief as SuA cackles in the background.
"Yah, it's not funny!" Yoohyeon whines as you lead her to a bench.
"Let's get these skates off, and then you can say and do what you want, alright?"
"You better let me."
She quickly takes off her skates, and you grab them so she can chase after SuA.
You laugh as you watch them run around the edge of the rink. It was never a dull moment with Yoohyeon, that was for sure.
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landgraabbed · 6 months ago
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end of year 2 perfection check-in!
planning to take a break from my perfection save to start my joja run (which i've never done but know that sve expands upon), so i wanted to get an overview of where i'm at so i know where to pick up from when i get back to this save.
missing a lot of cooking and especially expanded and east scarp recipes. in fact this is true for the fishing and shipping, since a lot is locked behind specific places i haven't explored yet (or can't, since i haven't unlocked the highlands yet). most vanilla content and npcs i'm done with too!
since i'm planning on skipping the obelisks and probably the gold clock i'll need to amass a crapton of money in year 3 for the waivers. so that means unlocking casks and finalizing the ancient fruit wine production i got going on thanks to a very early ancient seed find. i also am missing crafting recipes locked behind mastery so i need to work on that. that and unlocking the highlands and galdoran badlands from sve so i can get the bulk of what i'm missing. and finally decorating my farm!! i can't believe i usually get that done in year 1 winter but have neglected to do so far
let it be said though that i am not truly challenging myself. somebody who approaches all this more strategically would probably have gotten perfection on this combination of mods by now.
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trivialbob · 1 year ago
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My class picture, school year 1974-1975
This is the combined 3rd and 4th grade class. The K-6 school was small. All students walked to and from the small, red brick building (even in Minnesota winters, but it was only uphill coming home).
There were outdoor ice rinks behind the school. Students brought skates, sticks, and pucks to school in the winter. During recess we could play hockey. Several times a week a rink attendant flooded the ice with a fire hose. We loved watching that.
Playground equipment was firmly anchored in and surrounded by blacktop, the kind with all the rounded, colored rocks mixed in with it. No one graduated without a least one skinned knee or elbow. My glass-walled Thermos broke when I dropped my lunchbox while climbing a jungle gym before class started.
Mothers took turns doing lunch room duty, assisting the regular staff. There was even a high chair in case a mom brought along a toddler for the fun. Les the janitor didn't like us wasting milk. When lunch ended if we tried to pour any into the big galvanized tub he kindly suggested in his deep voice that we sit back down and finish the moo juice. I think he just didn't want to lift a heavy, full tub.
Someone posted this picture on Facebook and included all the names. I was surprised I could name a third of these kids before I saw all the names. Two are now deceased. None are terribly famous. I've only had contact with one of them in the last 20 years, and that was via Facebook.
None of the faces are blurred because I am certain everyone back then signed a waiver allowing the free use of this image on the Internet.
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godzillatalks · 1 month ago
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Shoko hums, smiling at the sound of laughter to her left and an exasperated sigh to her right. two warmths at her sides, one of a bright sunny day and the other of a hearth during winter, lean into her softly.
"—and you should've seen the look on his face when I hit him with the Purple!" the sunny day laughs, brightness chiming in her and the hearth's ears as it continues, "I mean, he looked like the apple logo! Not his face, but you know what I mean—"
"Satoru, calm down." the hearth chuckles from the other side of her, and she can tell it's shaking its head by the way the sound waivers through the air. "We've heard this story before. Many times."
Shoko lifts her head to the sky as the sunny day makes an indignant sound, opening her eyes to stare out at the sea of stars, but not quite looking at the bright lights beside her. they cast no glow, no indication of their warm lights on the surfaces around them.
"Just because you've heard it before doesn't mean I can't tell you both again, Suguru!" the sun argues, leaning forward to glare past Shoko at the flame. the hearth only smiles, not that she can see it; she just has a feeling it does. the sun speaks again, loud and bright, "Besides, it makes you both laugh! And Shoko needs cheering up, so what else can I do?!"
the sunlight wilts slightly, as if a cloud is covering it. the hearth sighs, its flame dying a little with a quiet hiss of its lungs, even as Shoko closes her eyes again, leaning back on her hands.
"I'll be alright, I think." she hums, long hair slipping off her shoulders as she tilts her head back toward the sky. the sunlight grows warm again, and the hearth crackles with flame as they lean back with her.
they stay like that for a few minutes, sunlight and summer to her left and the warmth of a cozy day in winter to her right.
she doesn't have the heart to speak again, but if she doesn't, they'll be stuck like this forever and she doesn't think she can take that.
her heart sinks in her throat as she sighs, then speaks.
"Now, what were you saying, Satoru? Suguru interrupted you, very rudely, I think."
Shoko doesn't get a response as she opens her eyes, tracing the once-trio of faded stars in the sky that she had always come out to watch during these months.
she shakes her head as she stands, dusting off her coat and shoving her hands in her pockets to dig around for a cigarette.
two stars had died, and only one was left. lonely, flashing in the night like a beacon.
the chilly night air wraps around her like an icy set of claws, settling into her bones with a finality that nothing but sunlight and a hearth could chase away.
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anarchy-n-glitter · 7 months ago
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𝕸𝖆𝖉 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊
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SUMMARY: Dr. Heather Winters has her first interviewing session with Jack Dante... things do not go according to plan. WARNINGS: Assault, threats of violence. (Chapter 1 HERE)
𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 2
“I have some concerns.” The room fell silent and suddenly all eyes were on Heather. The meeting was full of mostly men, save for Cale and Heather herself, and most of the time was wasted on everyone talking over each other and arguing. She wasn’t even entirely sure what they were arguing over - it certainly wasn’t over her little project. She looked up from her notebook, where she had been reading the same line from her previous session over and over: let him know he wasn’t alone - it concerned her more than anything else she could present to the board. They weren’t able to read her notes, telling her that any thoughts and feelings she had would be private and would only need to be presented at meetings, which she appreciated greatly and turned down their offers of a work computer to hold them to their word.
“It’s just… I know we’re not on the topic of my project, I apologize.” She murmured, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. Her eyes immediately retreated back to her notebook, and her gaze fell on that same line again. 
“No, Dr. Winters, you’re fine. We should have started the meeting going over your session with Dante, after all, it is time sensitive.” A man with half moon glasses and slicked back dark hair stated. He was seated at the other end of the long conference table and wore the same pressed, black suit as everyone else. In his right breast pocket was a maroon pocket square with the initials C.W. embroidered in navy script. He had cold, dark eyes that seemed intimidating no matter what expression he wore on his face. His name was Clarence Wayne - though his friends called him Clancy - and he was to be Cale’s replacement after Dante had been dealt with. 
“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I have a few concerns regarding some information I received from Mr. Dante yesterday and I just wanted some um… clarification?” Heather glanced around the room, thankful her voice didn’t waiver under the blank and domineering gaze of the board room. She hated how dark it was all the time in that building, it was depressing, and the light that did filter in cast large shadows on the already larger than life figures in the room. A strand of blonde hair escaped her ponytail and covered her right eye, tickling the tip of her nose as she anxiously swept it back behind her ear. 
“When I spoke to Mr. Dante yesterday he seemed to be incredibly run down, he said he was being hunted by something called the War Beast for two days straight. Obviously since we were able to talk it’s since been shut down and he was unaware, but I’m more concerned with him dying of dehydration or hunger in the meantime. We’re on day three, has he had water since he’s been down there?” Another man, larger in stature than Clancy with a balding head, let out a dry chuckle.
“Like he’d drink it if we gave it to him. That man is perpetually dehydrated.” He seemed to stop laughing when Heather shot him a pointed glare. 
“So this is a joke to you all? Well, moving on then, he cooperated with me yesterday and in return I promised him he’d be able to meet me in my office. As I’ve already stated to Ms. Cale-”
“It’s not happening.” Cale cut in as she recalled the conversation she had with the doctor a few days before. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she stared down at the blonde across from her with a look of authority. Heather pressed her lips into a thin line. 
“I understand your reluctance, Ms. Cale, but I believe the best way to get him to cooperate and to help him is through a rewards system. He mentioned wanting to see me yesterday and I told him he would get to if he told me what I wanted to know. As I’m sure most of you know, seeing as you’ve all encountered him at some point, he’s incredibly stunted. I’d assume he takes promises very seriously.” The same balding man let out a chuckle and muttered under his breath. “Unless he’s the one making them.” Heather let out another irritated huff.
“I want to establish trust with my patient to get him to open up more. The goal is getting him to open up to me, right? So I can see if he’s still dangerous? It’s not going to happen unless I promise him something in return, I can already tell. And like I said before, I find better results when I can speak to my patients face to face.” Another silence fell over the room, much to Heather’s dismay. They seemed to argue more over the budget reports from the month before or last night’s hockey game than they do over literal life or death. Heather could safely say she was beginning to despise every person in that room.
Clancy pointed a finger up and nodded, looking around the room and catching a glance at Cale’s less than pleased expression. It was as if she knew he was going to override her last decision. 
“We’ll have someone escort him for today’s session.” He agreed, causing Heather to smile widely, which she quickly had to hide. She wasn’t sure why the idea excited her so much, maybe it was because for the first time since she arrived there seemed to be hope for the person she was trying to save. 
(Deep down there was a feeling - a nagging feeling - that she had felt the moment his image came over the monitor, clear as day)
“Thank you, Mr. Wayne! I really don’t know how to make it up to you.” Heather began, standing up and gathering her notebook. Clancy shook his head. 
“Just get us those results, Dr. Winters, that’s all I ask.” 
“You can’t be serious.” Cale deadpanned. Heather froze in place.“We all agreed to leave him there until Dr. Winters came to a decision, that he was too dangerous to be let out as of right now. It’s been three days and I don’t trust him to have calmed down enough. We could send someone with food and water, but I don’t want him to be let out.” She explained as calmly as she could, but all she could think about was when he had her cornered in his ‘room.’ She thought about the look in his eyes while he held a knife to her throat, and she thought about the way he promised to kill her for leaving him in vault ten. She had to remind herself that none of the people she sat in that room with were there when Dante tried to kill her and Raimi - when he successfully murdered the others. Her own safety was at risk if Dante were to be let out, and she knows the doctor was not considering that. 
Heather was going off of an outdated - yet still relevant - psychological profile and the words of Dante himself, it was no wonder she pressed so hard to get to see him in person. She was just giving him what he wanted without realizing it. Not to mention that she had just graduated med school less than a year ago, and the soon-to-be-former CEO had fought tooth and nail to get an experienced psychologist in there. She even had one in mind, Dr. Conway, the psychologist who had worked with Dante before and helped build his psychological profile for CHAANK. Clancy had shot that idea down and recommended Heather, saying that the case could use a fresh set of eyes with the newest information available in psychology. He disregarded any concerns regarding experience or familiarity, and she had this sinking feeling that he was up to no good. 
Cale knew Heather had the best of intentions, and part of her understood, but she knew Dante was up to no good. She could see it now - Dante was going to manipulate Heather. She was too nice, too trusting, too empathetic, and far too inexperienced. Cale began to realize just how dangerous this situation was becoming. 
“He’ll be allowed out only for his sessions with the doctor.” Clancy stated, hoping to calm Cale’s nerves. He knew what happened to her - though he wasn’t there - and he sympathized the best he could, but he wanted to give Dante one last chance as much as Heather did… even if it was for his own selfish reasons.
Jack Dante was brilliant and helped design some of the most profitable weapons in the history of CHAANK’s existence, and while the man was absolutely insane, Clancy felt it would be a waste to let him die in the basement of the building. He could be doing so much more for the company, thus he was more valuable to the future CEO alive. 
“You’re excused, Dr. Winters. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting here, next time we’ll get right into your project so you can get on with your day.” Heather gathered the rest of her belongings without muttering another word, offering only an anxious, tight-lipped smile in place of a farewell before scurrying out of the board room. She did, after all, have an important appointment to get to.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
He had given up on running ever since his surprise session with Heather. He figured there was no point, especially if they were paying a doctor to come talk to him, which meant they turned the War Beast off somewhere along the way. He doubted they’d be turning it back on when he wasn’t talking to the doctor. 
Jack was seated on the floor against the wall again, in the same position he’d often slept in since getting trapped in the vault. Each time he closed his eyes he got a bit closer to accepting the fact that one day he might not be opening them again. Things changed the moment he heard that sweet voice come over the intercom. 
Ah, Heather. His sweet angel who he had yet to lay eyes on. She asked him several questions the day before like what was it like growing up and how did he end up at CHAANK and if he had any friends before being trapped in the vault; she let him ramble on for hours upon hours. She even laughed at his jokes and cartoony antics! He knew it was her job, but he just loved being able to ramble to an audience. She seemed genuinely invested - again, it was her job - and it was that attitude that made him crave more. He wondered if he could get her to care about what he did and said outside of this whole doctor-patient thing. 
His eyes were fixed on the camera as he stared off in thought. There had to be a reason why Heather was sent to talk to him, and he was determined to find out. Honestly, he couldn’t think of a single reason why they would waste their time… unless it was to let him out of the vault. 
It didn’t take long for him to figure it out, after all, he was incredibly smart. CHAANK really couldn’t afford having another death on their hands, and he was sure being stuck in there was holding up production in some way. Not to mention the amount of shit the company let him get away with on a daily basis because he was just that good - they couldn’t afford to let him go. However, that led him to his next train of thought - that being the situation with his bitch of an ex Hayden Cale. There was no way in hell she would ever greenlight a project like this, after all, she was the one to practically sign off on his death warrant the last time he saw her. This whole doctor thing meant that someone else was gonna be in charge really soon.
Was he really going to get away with it all over again?
He wondered what exactly the criteria was for getting let out. What did he have to prove to Heather to show he deserved to be freed from this literal prison? He wasn’t entirely sure yet, but with a little magic and a few charming words he would hopefully be out of there in no time - he just couldn’t let them know he was onto them just yet. He could have audibly groaned at the thought. It just seemed so time consuming, and now that he knew the War Beast wasn’t after him he was beginning to feel incredibly bored looking at those same repeating grey walls around every corner. Sure, he had some of his toys and tricks lying around, but with no TV or magazines lying around he was on his own. 
Jack missed his room. He missed the TV screens in the back that were each set to something new that could stimulate or titillate. There were numerous projects and gadgets strewn about that he could fidget with while he thought, things that could keep him busy for hours and hours upon end. It wasn’t that there weren’t any random gizmos lying around vault ten he could play with, he knew there were some things here and there in the empty halls, it was that he was still - even if he would never admit it - too afraid to rummage around. He also missed his action figures. They were particularly useful when he just absolutely needed to act out some random impulsive thought that he knew would get him into big trouble if he did it himself. 
He also missed his bag of various drugs he kept stowed away.
The mere idea of sitting around and being bored was like poison to him. It wasn’t so bad when he was running and hiding - staying as calm as he could be while being hunted by his own creation - because that was something he could focus on. Boredom doesn’t exist when you’re in survival mode. 
The suffocating silence of the vault was quickly filled with the booming sound of the vault’s warning alarm, which usually only sounded when the door was being opened. Out of curiosity, Jack stood, still leaning against the wall but now with his eyes glued to the west corridor of the vault. He was unsure of what exactly was going on, and despite his calm exterior he was feeling quite uneasy. He hoped the vault was being opened for a good reason and that CHAANK didn’t decide to finally call the cops on him or worse.
Two men dressed in their black security guard uniforms came down the hallway standing side by side. The one on the right was taller than the one on the left by a few inches, with mousy brown hair and a thin frame. The other man had jet black hair that was clearly growing back in from a buzz cut. He had olive skin and intimidating eyes. On his left forearm was a tattoo, a name in cursive writing that Jack couldn’t make out from where he was standing. They drew closer, and Jack could see they didn’t have firearms, only their black batons secured to their belts. The guard with the black hair produced a pair of handcuffs from his pocket when they got to Jack, and he couldn’t help but glare at them. 
He wasn’t being arrested, was he? He certainly hoped not. Neither guard seemed smart enough to check his pockets and he just so happened to have an extra gun lying around on the inside of his coat. He could easily blow them both away and try to take off before anyone realized and sent his machine after him. 
“Come on, Dante. It’s time for your appointment.” The taller guard said, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. Jack raised an eyebrow. 
This new doctor seemed to deliver on her promises… he liked that. He didn’t actually think she would have enough power to get him out of the vault, when he opened up to her he really just did it to see how she’d react. She passed the test of course, but this was quite the added bonus. He looked to the two guards with wide, child-like eyes. His hair fell in his face.
“They’re lettin’ me see the doctor?” He spoke as if he had no idea what was going on, trying to make himself sound as innocent as possible. These men would not fall for that act. The cuffs were tight around his wrists and cold against his skin. His eyes fell to the dark haired guard’s name tag which read Robert M. The taller guard’s name was Gregory H. Neither one of them spoke as they pushed Jack along the halls. 
He practically jumped back at the sight of the War Beast sitting next to the exit of the vault. It was still and quiet, blood dried brown on its once shining teeth. It was beautiful still, yet now that he had been on the other end of its wrath he understood the fear it could instill in someone. He was glad it was off. 
Even though it had been three days since he saw the world outside the vault he was still as giddy as a kid in a candy store. His eyes took in everything they could - the sight of the elevator and its chrome color scheme, and then the engineering floor and its dark, gritty nature. He smiled snarkily at the engineers who stopped to stare at him, the ones who whispered about him and smeared his name. He was back and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Well, he was back for now at least. He was hoping after a few more of these trips he could move out of vault ten permanently.
They stopped at the doors to his room, still perfectly painted to suit his tastes. He was quite proud of that aspect of his office, despite how others seemed to throw a fit when he did it. He was happy to see no one had touched his stuff in the few days he was gone, it meant they weren’t entirely done with him yet. 
That red door slid open and there she was, standing next to a desk staring at the blank monitors lined up against the wall. Her blonde hair was wild and curly but pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a red blazer that looked like it came from the 80’s and a black pencil skirt with similarly dark pantyhose underneath. She had to be new to this, her vintage coat didn’t seem like it was a choice, it looked like a hand me down. On her feet were black, patent leather pumps with stiletto style heels. His eyes ran down the length of her figure and took in every curve. She had wide, full hips and a decent ass to boot. Just seeing her from behind was enough to get his mind going… he hadn’t even seen her face yet but he knew…
She was hot.
Dr. Winters turned around and greeted everyone with a smile. On her lips was a bright red lipstick. Oh what he would give to see those plump, red lips wrapped around his -
“How’re you doing today, Jack?” She asked, interrupting his obscene thoughts. His intense gaze met her friendly, warm eyes. She seemed thrilled to see him, the exact reason why he wasn’t sure of yet. She waited as the guards uncuffed him.
“I’m doing just fine, doc.” He answered, looking over the shoulder of Robert.The cuffs were off and in their place were two red rings on his wrists, and he couldn’t help but rub over them. She smiled wider and nodded.
“Good, I’m glad.” Robert took the doctor to the side and whispered to her while Gregory stood by.
“We have to get going to our posts now, actually. They wanted us stationed outside but we’re short staffed today.” Robert explained almost regretfully, which Heather seemed to understand. She was actually relieved to not have CHAANK guards right outside her door. She glanced back at Jack, who had visibly perked up. His intense stare was focused solely on her, like a predator silently watching his prey. She froze, unsure of what to do or think. He was a lot more intimidating in person, despite the fact he wasn’t a particularly built man. She could tell he was thin and waif-like under his baggy clothes, yet he had a dangerous energy about him. She gave him another smile, this one more awkward and rushed than the last, before turning back to Robert.
“You’re fine, I actually have someone who’s willing to wait outside. He did that last time.” Heather stated as she practically escorted the men out. Jack’s gaze settled on Heather’s hand as it sat upon Robert’s arm. Her touch was gentle and guiding, almost maternal in nature. Jack liked that about her so far. 
He watched silently as the doctor spoke through the door to the guards and some other man. Only her head was stuck through the crack in the door, allowing him to see just past her where he briefly met with emerald eyes. The man she was talking to was tall and looked like he could hurl just about anyone across a room. He was no doubt the person she was referring to earlier. He vaguely recognized him as one of the engineers on the floor but couldn’t remember his name.
Lee? Leo? Luke?
… Leprosy? Oh yes, he looks like a Leprosy. He fought back the urge to laugh at the absurdity of that one.
It was definitely an L word. 
Heather flashed the man a smile and waved to him before slinking back through the door. However, that jovial look faded away to one more professional and almost somber. There was something behind her eyes that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She gestured to the table behind him where her notepad and a bottle of water sat. 
“Here, have a seat.” She started as she traipsed over to the table. He dragged his feet as he followed her. She turned back to him, the smile back on her lips and the bottle of water now in her hand. She held it out to him. “I got you some water, figured you’d want some after not having it for a couple days.” She remarked almost shyly. He took note of how she could hardly hold his gaze.
Was she afraid of him or was there something more to it? 
He accepted her offer and held the cool plastic bottle in his hands. She even went through the trouble to keep it cool for him! He sat down without hesitation, landing on the metal foldout chair with one leg stretched out and the other positioned under the seat. He kept his eyes trained on the bottle while he opened it. 
“Did you get enough rest last night?” Dr. Winters asked innocuously as she took her seat across from him. His eyes settled on her chest. She wore a black button up shirt under the red blazer with just enough of the buttons undone to give him a peek at her cleavage. He took a sip from his water and the cold liquid burned his throat. 
“Thanks to you.” He croaked as a smirk formed on his lips. “I figured they’d keep the machine off as long as you’re still around to talk to me.” 
“Well, I plan on being around for a little while.” 
He actually met her gaze this time. “Only a little?” He asked. The childlike way he usually spoke was nonexistent suddenly, instead being replaced by a dangerousness that indicated he knew more than he was letting on. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. 
“It’s looking like it’ll be a two month interviewing period.” The blonde answered honestly. That same dangerous look flashed in his eye again as his eyebrows raised. 
“And then what after that?” Jack’s act would not fool her. Heather shrugged. “Cause I have a theory about this whole thing.” 
“And what would that be, Mr. Dante?” She was so formal all the time, it upset him. He wanted to see her embrace the fun things in life, let her hair down a little. He knew there was a wild side to her, he just had to figure out what buttons of hers to push to let it out. He wagged a finger at her and shook his head. 
“So what’re we talking about today, doc?” He hit his palms on the table like he was doing a drum roll. She could say she found some of his antics charming, though she worried at the end of their hour-long session it might get old. She brushed a lock of curly hair that came loose from her ponytail back behind her ear and glanced down at her notes. 
“Well I wanted to expand upon some of the ideas you brought up yesterday.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, half lidded and vixen-like. The way she seemed to switch back and forth from professional to being two seconds from jumping his bones drove him crazy - he hoped it wasn’t all in his head. “You mentioned that you liked your job here because most people left you alone and you could do what you wanted, why is that?”
His piercing eyes were trained on her, and he stayed silent for a moment, as if trying to pick the perfect story to tell her. He watched as she brought the end of her pen to her lips and looked back down at her notebook. The situation already reminded him of one of his favorite movies, but the way she moved and looked at him only solidified that his fantasies may become reality. What could he tell her to get her to swoon? He figured the truth would suffice.
“People don’t like me.” He stated simply. Heather nodded awkwardly. 
“And why do you feel people don’t like you?”
“Cause they tell me. The last guys only kept me around because I was smart.” He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. “The only person in my entire life to make me feel loved was Cale.” Well, maybe not the whole truth. She did pity him, after all she could imagine how lonely his life really was. His office was his home, yet the people there could hardly stand him. 
“So you don’t have any friends?” The way she didn’t seem to take the bait annoyed him a little bit. He clenched his teeth. 
“Nope.” He answered, emphasizing the end of the word. He sat up straight again, looking her directly in her innocent, doe-like eyes. “You?”
Some truth on her own part wouldn’t hurt, she figured. “Not really. I don’t have a lot of friends.” She remarked shyly. His eyes widened. “I mean, I have Lou outside but I just met him yesterday. I moved here about a month ago and got hired here last week.” 
Oh, she was alone. 
“Well, doc,” He began, reaching across the table to take her free hand in his. The leather of his gloves felt odd wrapped around her hand, she could still feel the heat of his palm through the thick material. “You got one now.” 
She felt her heart speed up and her face went red. She was blushing. Why was she blushing? The situation was embarrassing - yes, that was it. It was incredibly embarrassing. This was her patient, any kind of relationship - platonic or not - was inappropriate. She pulled her hand back. 
“Thank you but um… that’s not necessary. I’m happy just being here to help for now.” His expression darkened ever so slightly. She was not being very fun. He leaned back, dipping his hand into his jacket and accidentally brushed against this gun. “Let’s move on. Why don’t we recap everything that happened over the last few days?” Heather suggested.
“What else is there to say? I mean, I told you almost everything yesterday.” There was a harshness in his voice again, it reminded her of a child throwing a fit because they couldn’t get what they wanted. What was it that Jack Dante wanted? She supposed that was one of the many questions she’d have to find the answer to. She held her breath for a moment, almost afraid to press him further. 
“Tell me about Cale.” The way he looked at her made her feel deeply uncomfortable. “You’ve talked about her quite a bit over the last few days, and you said she made you feel cared for. She seems really important to you.” 
“She was in love with me.” He remarked in a snarky tone. Heather tilted her head.
“Was she?” He nodded with wide eyes. 
“Oh yes.” Another unnerving smile made its way to his face as he stood. Heather felt herself tense, but out of sheer curiosity and the need to make him feel comfortable, she let him walk around. He seemed like the type to need to pace, and he had demonstrated that in their previous session. “The bitch was crazy for me. I tried so hard to break it off with her, she won’t tell you this because it looks bad for her, but she tried to fire me over it. She held a gun to my head and that’s when I knew it was too much. I told her, ‘Cale, baby, listen. I like you, but it’s wrong and you know it. You’re my boss and I can’t be with you like that.’” He paused and looked at her. “Power balances and all that.” 
“But still, I held my ground and I broke it off, and she really tried to fire me. Of course, that was after she stole the last chairman’s key card and tried to leak the projects we were working on together - the things she authorized - to the public and the rest of the board so they would… God, I don't even know what she wanted them to do. But she didn’t get too far ‘cause these eco terrorists showed up and held us all at gunpoint to get into the vault and blow this place sky high!” He made a few explosion sounds with his mouth to hammer the point home before laughing to himself. “I kinda wish I got to see that…” He trailed off, almost as if no one else were in the room. “I set the War Beast loose to chase them away, I even told them as long as they stayed calm they would be fine. No one listens to me.” 
“Does it upset you that they didn’t listen? It seems like you didn’t want anyone to get hurt.” Heather interjected. Jack looked back at her with an almost shocked expression, and then he smiled. 
“Yes. Yes! See I knew you got me, doc, I just knew I’d find someone who got it.” He was standing beside her now, looking down at her… inspecting her. Looking for any crack in her facade - any weakness, any vulnerability. She smiled sweetly at him, pink dusting her cheeks ever so slightly. She must have liked that.
“People don’t seem to take you seriously around here, do they Mr. Dante?” The doctor questioned. He nodded curtly. 
“Nope. Not a single one. I do so much for all of them, I make them money, and yet they still don’t listen to me. They don’t listen to my warnings.” He ranted. “I only wanted to scare them away.” He added, this time quieter. His hands slipped into the pockets of his leather trench coat as he began to pace again. 
Heather looked back down at her notebook, glancing over the few sentences she had already written as her mind ran rampant. He seemed misguided - which was the conclusion she had come to after her first session with him - but this didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t a danger. She knew she wasn’t there to counsel him, she couldn’t give him the tools to be better, she was contracted to observe him… but she desperately wanted to help. He could be helped. 
Clancy seemed to like her, she could try appealing to him.
“Jack,” she began, using his first name as opposed to the formalities. His name fell easily from her tongue, despite knowing how wrong it all was. “Why don’t you come back over here for a second.” 
“Do I have to sit down?” Jack asked hesitantly. Heather shook her head, her blonde ringlets bouncing along her shoulder and framing her face. 
“Not if you don’t want to.” He smiled at her and it made her heart flutter ever so slightly. She blamed the feeling on nerves. 
“Can I stand next to you?” His question gave her pause. She wasn’t entirely sure if letting him be so close to her was a good idea, but she wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible, and if that’s what he needed to do then he could. 
She was quiet for a good minute before she finally spoke, simple and airy: “Yes.” 
Jack was already behind her.
His hands were buried in his pockets, balled into fists as he fought the urge to touch her. He wondered what her lips felt like, how soft her skin was, and he wanted to get lost in the rosey scent she wore. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and pull her head back by her ponytail and press his lips to hers before biting along the pale flesh of her slender neck. He wanted to bend her over the table in fifty different positions and fuck her until every intelligent thought in that brilliant brain of hers held was forced out of her. He wanted to corrupt her. 
She was intoxicating. 
The monitor in front of her showed the hallway outside, and he watched silently while people walked by. He wondered if any of them knew what was going on in his little room - he hoped they’d be too scared to check. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve, and if he didn’t have to be on his best behavior he would have shown Dr. Winters just what he was thinking at that moment. He let one of his hands wander to the gun tucked away in the pocket on the inside of his jacket and found the violent thoughts that plagued his mind to be all too irresistible. He slowly moved forward again, his hand wrapping around the grip of his gun.
His eyes were trained on Heather, and he was so focused on her that he missed the movement on the monitor. Lou opened the door to the office. 
“Hey, Dr. Winters, time’s almost up-”
Jack quickly drew his gun and pulled Heather out of her seat by her jacket. His arm wrapped around her neck and he pulled her flush against him, pressing the barrel of the gun to her temple. The metal was cold - so cold she worried he had pulled the trigger and the burn was from that. Jack stared Lou down with a frown chiseled on his features. 
“Get the fuck out.” Jack ordered from behind the doctor. Lou immediately froze, staring wide eyed at the equally wide eyed doctor. She looked terrified. Her hands were clinging to Jack’s arm as she struggled to stay upright amongst his frantic movements. Jack seemed to want to drag her toward the back of the office, and the gun had hardly come away from the side of her head. 
Lou slowly raised his hands, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that gun was meant to intimidate him or Heather. 
“We were having a private moment, don’t you know how to knock?” Jack spat angrily, and his arm tightened around Heather. Her emerald colored eyes widened and flickered between her captor and Lou. Her friend was clearly escalating the situation in ways he couldn’t see just yet, and she knew she had to take matters into her own hands. 
Heather could feel Jack’s warm breath on her cheek and tried not to wince at the smell of it. He hadn’t brushed his teeth in a few days, nor had he bathed, and the smell of his dry mouth and sweat was thick and heavy in the air, and it only made her want to pull away more. She had to power through it. 
“Lou…” She struggled. The older man kept his focus on her. “It’ll be okay, let me talk to him. I didn’t get to finish…” Jack’s grip on her loosened, and in turn so did her own on his arm. He could feel her feather-like touch through his coat. 
“You can go back outside now, we’ll be out in a moment.” She watched Lou wearily as he stood completely still and she was unsure if he would actually listen to her. The larger man slowly lowered his hands and nodded curtly, which did not go unnoticed by her captor. Lou turned on his heel and began walking toward the door at a normal pace - as if everything behind him were completely normal. Heather let out another shaky breath as she felt Jack press himself against her. 
“Oh, and Lou…” She called out, stopping the man in his tracks. He slowly turned around, but despite his careful movements Jack still tightened his grip on Heather. “Not a word of this.” She begged in a voice hardly above a harsh whisper. She watched confusion flash in Lou’s eyes for a moment, as if to say ‘are you insane?’ Heather solemnly thought to herself, By the end of this I may just be. She nodded once more, telling him silently that everything would be OK. 
And with that, the older man was gone. 
“Jack?” Heather whispered. She listened closely as his breath hitched. Her grip on his arm loosened again as she began to gently rub along the material of his sleeve in an attempt to soothe him. “Jack, it’s okay. We can go back to our session now.” 
“You promised it would just be us.” He seethed from behind her, his mouth much closer to her ear than she thought. His lips grazed against the shell of her ear, then they ghosted over her jaw. Jack lowered the gun from the side of her head to just under her arm, pressed harshly against her ribcage. She squirmed uncomfortably, trying her best to get away from the bruising pain of the barrel of his gun and the ever violating feeling of his lips against her skin. His smile was evident as he dragged his lips against her neck - she felt her skin heat up again and her knees felt like they could buckle at any moment. 
Jack finally stopped as he rested his chin on her shoulder. The position Heather found herself in was far too intimate for a doctor and her patient, and she knew if Lou managed to betray her trust and grab a few security guards it would jeopardize her work - and most likely get her killed by the psychopath who was still holding her at gunpoint. 
“And it was… but we only have an hour together Jack. Hours go by fast sometimes.” His arm snaked away from around her neck and his bony hand found its way to her hip. His arm was still draped across her torso as he gripped her hip, still holding her firmly against him as he subtly ground himself against her ass. “The end of the hour really snuck up on us.” She admitted as she fought a surprised gasp. He’s surprisingly strong for someone so thin and sickly looking, she thought as he continued to hold her close. She had to wonder if he was actually strong or if she was just easy to move in her frozen state. She determined she wouldn’t think too hard about what Jack was doing to her. 
“I wanna have more than an hour with you.” He mumbled.
“I don’t know if I can do that.” Her heart was beating so loud in her ears. She was afraid she would pass out. 
And if she did pass out? Oh god, who would help her then? Surely someone would come looking for her when they realized she never left that prison cell of an office -
“You got me outta that vault, I think you can get us a few extra minutes together, doc.” He said through gritted teeth as he pressed the gun harder against her side. Heather let out a gasp of pain and tried to squirm away from him, yet only managed to move herself closer to his face. He readjusted again, using the hand that held her hip in a deathgrip to grab ahold of her face. She quickly tried to fight back, much to his dismay. 
Dr. Heather was proving to be like the others, unfortunately. 
Her emerald eyes searched for anything other than his face to look at while he wrapped his other arm around her, the gun this time was resting on the curve of her ass, not pointed at anything in particular. There was no need to threaten her with it anymore, he had her right where he wanted her. Finally, their eyes met and he saw the pure fear and panic in them. Despite her calm voice, her body betrayed her. 
“I thought you wanted to help me.” Was this another one of his antics? Another tool to get attention and cry for help? It was far from appropriate, and it was doing nothing but negatively affect her judgment, but if he was genuine…
Not to mention she was afraid of what would happen if she told him no again.
“Fine, I’ll see what I can do.” She sighed. A large smile broke out on his face, yet there was something sinister about it. It felt like she had made a deal with the devil. 
Jack leaned in and pressed a hard, chaste kiss to Heather’s lips before letting go of her completely. The doctor dropped onto the floor like a rag doll as she took deep, labored breaths, coming down from the absolute terror that wreaked havoc in her body. The sane, cautious part of her mind kept telling her she was making a mistake, it told her to quit now and never look back… but there was something else. Something deep down told her to keep going, maybe it was because she knew any other doctor would deem him a danger without a second thought, maybe it was because she felt some deep calling to actually use her skills to help someone. All she knew was leaving would mean a death sentence for Jack, even if she wasn’t completely convinced he didn’t deserve it. 
“I knew you cared doc, I always did.” He stated as he held his hand out for her to take. She stared up at him dumbfounded for a moment before accepting his help. 
“Do not ever do that again. You might not like the results if you do.” Heather warned, feeling slightly safer now that she was farther away from him. He smiled at her.
“Okay, I promise I won’t do that again.” He held up a hand with only three fingers up while his other rested over his chest. “Scout’s honor.” 
“Lou! You can come in now!” The sliding door to Jack’s office roared on its track as it flung open and the older engineer rushed in. 
He looked relieved to see Heather was safe and away from the mad man beside her. In his hands were the handcuffs Jack was brought in, this time drawn and ready to go. He wouldn’t wait around for him, he wouldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt. Jack looked at him smugly and held out his hands.
“Take me away, Lou.” Jack looked back at Heather as Lou cuffed him. “I’ve been bad.” He quipped. Heather felt the heat rise to her cheeks again, much to her dismay. 
Next thing she knew she was alone again, staring blankly at the discarded gun on the floor with nothing but doubt weighing heavily on her mind…
And the ghost of Jack’s hands and lips on her body.
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