#sharp copiers

[photocopiers-and-printers]

How Sharp Copiers Improve Office Efficiency

In today’s fast-paced business environment, efficiency is a key factor in maintaining a competitive edge. Offices across the globe are continually seeking ways to streamline their operations and maximize productivity. One significant aspect of achieving this goal is optimizing the use of office equipment, particularly copiers. Among the leading brands, Sharp copiers stand out for their ability to…

[everytechever]

Sharp to take part in major US tech event CES 2023

Sharp Corporation will participate in CES 2023 in Las Vegas, Nevada, United States, to be held from January 5 to 8, 2023. #SHARP #CES2023

Sharp Corporation (Sharp) will participate in CES 2023 (Consumer Electronics Show) in Las Vegas, Nevada, United States, to be held from January 5th to 8th, 2023. CES is one of the largest and most influential tech events in the world. Sharp will exhibit advanced technologies and products that embody the company’s ESG-focused management under the four themes of New Energy, Automotive, AR/VR, and…

[equipmybiz]

PaperCut MF and Sharp MFPs: A Perfect Pair

PaperCut MF is a robust print management solution that seamlessly integrates with a wide range of multifunctional printers (MFPs), including our full Sharp MFP line. In this article, we’ll explore how PaperCut MF enhances the printing experience on Sharp MFPs, providing administrators and users with powerful features and streamlined workflows. 1. Simple Setup and Device Detection Setting up…

[royalprint]

[kakaewpeak]

Sharp copiers houston

SHARP COPIERS HOUSTON FULL

SHARP COPIERS HOUSTON SOFTWARE

SHARP COPIERS HOUSTON PLUS

We also offer several options on our copier sales, such as copier leasing, copier rentals, and copier repairs. Operating in the Houston area, our company has been a long-term partner of small and large enterprises for their copier leasing needs.

SHARP COPIERS HOUSTON SOFTWARE

We’ll be glad to help you find the appropriate office equipment and software solutions that fit your needs. Houston Copier Leasing is proud to offer only the highest quality MFP copiers and printers in the greater Austin area and to be your local authorized reseller of Sharp printers. In addition we will not recharge you each time we come out for the same problem and there are never any hidden charges.

SHARP COPIERS HOUSTON PLUS

Extremely affordable service rates starting as low as 72.50 plus parts with the time starting when we arrive at your location and ending when we leave. By clicking subscribe you are agreeing to receiving email communication from Sharp Electronics regarding Sharp consumer products. Moreover, as a leader in Houston, Texas office equipment sales, service, and supplies, On Demand also helps optimize your organization with easy-to-implement, yet comprehensive document management solutions, Managed Print Services, and IT Services. Sharp Printer Repair and Sharp Copier Repair. For Sharp, this represents more than just an accumulation of accolades. Whether you need office copiers or postage equipment, our technology partners are some of the most recognized names in the industry, including Xerox, Kyocera, Epson, Copystar, and FP Mailing Solutions postage machines. For centuries, Sharp document imaging products and solutions have been earning high praises and prestigious awards from top leading testing organizations for Multi-Functional Printers that test overall reliability, functionality and ease of use. We are located at 5821 Southwest Freeway (59 & Chimney Rock).

SHARP COPIERS HOUSTON FULL

In addition to copier sales, we now offer document management solutions, Managed Print Services, and IT Services to provide a full range of office technology services to our customers. We have also been ranked 1 for customer service year after year. Whether you choose to buy, lease, or rent a copier, everyone’s business model is different. We have over 60 years of sales and service experience in the office equipment arena. Since 1999, On Demand has been Houston’s leading copier source for Xerox, Kyocera, Copystar, and Epson copiers and FP Mailing Solutions mailing equipment. Business Copier Leasing of Houston offers the largest selection of copiers for lease in Houston Our large inventory and high sales enable us to beat all competitor pricing. Platinum Copier Solutions is an authorized provider of Sharp office equipment with offices in Dallas-Fort Worth, Houston, and Beaumont, where we live, work and play.

[nahasdj]

Konica or sharp copiers

#KONICA OR SHARP COPIERS PROFESSIONAL#

Paul, White Bear Lake, Willmar, Woodbury, Wood Lake, Woodland, Woodstock, Wright, Wyoming, Zimmerman. Paul Park, Sauk Rapids, Savage, Scandia, Shafer, Shakopee, Sherburn, Shoreview,Shorewood, Spring Lake Park, Spring Park, Stacy, Stillwater, South Saint Paul, Taylors Falls, Tonka Bay, Vadnais Heights, Victoria, Waite Park, Waseca, Watertown, Watkins, Watson, Wayzata, West Concord, West St. Paul, Norwood Young America, Oakdale, Oak Grove, Oak Park Heights, Orono, Osseo, Otsego, Pine City, Plymouth, Princeton, Prior Lake, Richfield, Robbinsdale, Rockford, Rogers, Sacred Heart, St. Croix, Marshall, Medicine Lake, Medina, Mendota, Mendota Heights, Minneapolis, Minnetonka, Minnetonka Beach, Minnetrista, Monticello, Mora, Mound, Mounds View, New Brighton, New Hope, Newport, New Prague, Nicollet, North Oaks, North St. With affordable rates, great teamwork, speed, quality and professionalism that is what makes JR Copier of Minnesota the better and easier choice for all your printer needs.Īlbert Lea, Albertville, Andover, Annandale, Anoka, Apple Valley, Arden Hills, Becker, Big Lake, Bloomington, Brooklyn Center, Brooklyn Park, Buffalo, Burnsville, Cambridge, Cannon Falls, Center City, Centerville, Champlin, Chanhassen, Chaska, Chisago City, Circle Pines, Columbia Heights, Coon Rapids, Corcoran, Cottage Grove, Crystal, Dakota, Dayton, Deephaven, Delano, Eagan, Eden Prairie, Edina, Elk River, Excelsior, Falcon Heights, Faribault, Farmington, Fergus Falls, Forest Lake, Fridley, Golden Valley, Independence, International Falls, Inver Grove Heights, Isanti, Lakeville, Lindstrom, Lino Lakes, Litchfield, Little Canada, Long Lake, Long Prairie, Loretto, Maple Grove, Maple Plain, Maplewood, Marine on St. I purchased color Konica copier the quality is impeccable and they also service the machine. It was a great experience and we highly recommend Prestige. Sacramento Copiers also services any make or models while providing great pricing on all copiers supplies: toner, trays, wheels. They provided excellent customer service and a great value for our copier purchase. We sell, lease or rent all the major copier brands Sharp copiers, Ricoh copiers, Brother copiers, Xerox copiers and Savin copiers. Printer Repair Center Minneapolis will not be beaten on price for printer service. Sacramento Copiers is the fastest growing copier company in the Sacramento region. We are a preferred service centre in Minneapolis for a number of organisations, thanks to our quick turnaround and competitive rates. Paul MN also offers our customers exceptional regular service with the use of customised service agreements, without the hassle of a contract and monthly fees – providing the customer with priority service and support. Konica Minolta, Canon and most major brands, our talented team have the product knowledge and experience to handle just about any printer or multifunction device. We service many brands of laser printers like Xerox, Hp, Ricoh, Kyocera, Sharp, Brother, Samsung.

#KONICA OR SHARP COPIERS PROFESSIONAL#

We have established ourselves as the industry leaders with providing exceptional repairs and a professional service for all office machines.

[bananafield]

Sharp copiers for sale on supply box

Modualr digital document systemFunctionsCopy, Print,Network Print,Optional Network Scan) Optional Fax)Original Size11"x17"Copy SizeMin: 5 1/2" x 8 1/2"Max. Please don't just give us a negative feedback without giving me a chance to fix the issue! WarrantyĬonsole. Please contact us and we will try our best to resolve your issue. In the unlikely event you are not satisfied with the transaction. And please leave us positive feedback when you receive your item in good condition. About Feedback* We will automatically leave positive feedback to every buyer who completed the transaction. It is easy for us to contact you if any problem happens. we hope you can leave us note with the available shipping address and phone number after you pay for it. We do not responsible for any lost because of incorrect address provided. please confirm you Registered Address in Paypal is up to date and correct. We are only ship to the paypal registered address. We are not responsible for any custom fees. Shipping& Handing* Your item will be dispatched in three working days after the payment is clear, The item is not be shipped on weekend and public holidays. If you want to pay by other ways.Please contact us first. Unpaid item(UPI) complaint will be filed with Ebay upon non-receipt of payment. Payments are expected within 5 days after the. Payment Methods* We prefer PayPal payment.Cause it is more convenient and secure, and allows us to ship your item immediately. Description(please read it carefully) brand: Sharp model NO.part NO.ADF Assembly Sharp AR-M35OU+ Copier work for: Sharp AR-M35OU+ Copier What's in the box*ADF Assembly Sharp AR-M35OU+ Copier* No other accessories. You will receive exactly what is shown in the picture- nothing more and nothing less. If there are parts/accessories that are not pictured. NOTE: WE TESTED THE PART BEFORE SHIPPING but sometimes shipping will change something, if you have any problem.Let us know, and we will take care of it! all printer parts come with a 30 day guarantee ADF Assembly Sharp AR-M35OU+ Copier What you see in the pictures is what you will receive.

[4unnyr0se]

❥ cherry soda | osamu dazai

warnings: semi-public sex, office sex, unprotected sex, fem! reader, dazai is a smug brat, roughness, cunnilingus, making out, dirty talk, friends to lovers, pet names, dazai is a little bit of a pervert, innocent(?) reader, possessive(?) dazai, mentions of other ADA members, asphyxiation if you squint

word count -> 3.4k

MDNI | 18+ content

The sound of rustling papers and feet running in every which way filled the bullpen of the Armed Detective Agency, making quiet the most luxurious thing there was in that small Yokohama office. Kunikida screaming at Ranpo to do his work, Yosano was no doubt cutting open something (or someone), and the rest of them were out on a mission to collect intel on a potential bank robbery.

There was no one else free in the agency except you and a certain suicidal maniac, Osamu Dazai. You two got along fine, probably even better than just fine. Amazingly was the right word. Even though Dazai was probably one of the most annoying people on Earth, the two of you had formed a certain kinship that rivaled the one he previously had in the Port Mafia. Dazai was the first to tell you of his past, making you swear to secrecy. And you did so in a heartbeat of course, how could you not? Those pleading brown eyes were simply just too gorgeous to refuse a request like that.

Dazai knew of the effect he had on you, and he was so fucking smug about it. Copying papers? He would pout his lips at you and cup his cheeks with his bandaged hands, asking you if you would be a darling girl and copy his paperwork while you were still standing up. After all, the copier was just so far away, and it was so much work getting up off his ass.

Or that other time when you gave him your lunch because he forgot to bring his own, which made Kunikida give him a look so sharp it could kill. Kunikida tried to talk you out of it but no, your heart was set on making sure your best friend was happy. And Dazai was ecstatic, the meal being sweetened only by Kunikida’s furiously red face. 

Dazai smiled at you from across the bullpen, frowning when you didn’t catch his friendly glances. Out of the two of you, you just had to be the responsible one. Making sure that due dates were met, cleaning up if anyone made a spill, blah blah blah. It was adorable but infuriating, the way you so carefully looked after the needs of others. So painfully fucking adorable that Dazai couldn’t help but feel himself get hard when you bent over to pick something up that Atsushi dropped, always patting him on his head gingerly. The way you were ever so clumsy with your drinks, spilling them onto your tight little pencil skirts about half of the time. Dazai would hear your sickly sweet voice curse under your breath as you squeezed your legs together to avoid getting the sticky soda on the hardwood below; you were always so careful about respecting the office. It was practically torture for Dazai, like some divine punishment for his misdeeds. How he longed to be the one making those noises roll off your pretty tongue, to relish in your cute sounds that should be caused by him and him alone, not your silly but stupid mistakes. 

“Hey, Dazai, are you there?” Dazai blinked and snapped out of his thoughts, not having noticed that he was still glaring at you whilst he was lost in his perverted thoughts. “You’ve been staring at me for a while and you looked pretty mad, is everything okay?” You asked, ruffling his curly brown hair atop his head.

Dazai relaxed and smiled softly at you, resting his face on his left hand. His right hand reached up to caress your soft face, his bandaged thumb running over your cheekbone. “I’m quite alright, don’t worry about it. Just a little lost in thought is all.” He assured you, crossing one leg over the other to hide his growing erection. “You’re done with your paperwork for now, right?”

“Yeah, it took a while. Why, did you need something?” You ask, taking his cold hand off of your cheek.

“Because everyone else went out for lunch while you were filling out forms, and I wasn’t invited because Kunikida’s mad at me for coming in late.” Dazai stuck his tongue out at the last part, crossing his arms childishly. “He definitely has something up his ass, that’s for sure.”

You giggled and covered your mouth, getting a tiny bit of red lipstick on your palm. “Honestly I can’t blame him, you do have a nasty habit of coming in late. But he’s always had a temper, so don’t think much of it.” You patted him on the shoulder, smiling at him gently. You felt your stomach rumble, winching at the strange noise your body made. “Oh, I guess I’m hungry. I better go see what snacks Ranpo has on his desk. Do you think he’ll notice.?”

“He’s Ranpo. He notices everything.”

“Whatever, I’ll just buy him some more later.” You shrugged and walked over to Ranpo’s desk, opening up one of the many snack-filled drawers to take out a bag of potato chips. The bag opened with a loud crinkle, the chips rubbing against each other as your hand shuffled around in the plastic bag. You snacked on the crunchy treat, admiring how salty it was on your tongue. “Hm, I thought Ranpo was more of a sweets kind of person. Good thing they don’t put me out on many detective missions.” You laughed, walking over to Dazai and shaking the bag in front of his face. “You want?”

Dazai shook his head and leaned back even further into his chair, his arm resting on the back of his head. “You know what I would like, though?” He purred, a smirk covering his handsome face. “A cherry soda from the break room fridge, those things are damn good.”

You nodded, turning on your heels to get him his desired beverage. Dazai admired how your ass looked as you walked away, how the short little skirt you wore hugged your curves perfectly. You had to be wearing those short skirts to get a rise out of him, there wasn’t another explanation. Dazai loved the days where you wore pencil skirts and hated whenever you were more modest, subtly hinting how we liked short skirts more than long skirts. Was it a scumbag move on his part? Absolutely. But did he feel guilty about it? Not one bit. He liked what he liked and there wasn’t any shame in that, at least according to Dazai.

You returned from the breakroom holding two cans of the delicious cherry soda, the intricate artwork on the can being covered by your soft and cold hands. You placed a can down on Dazai’s desk, being careful to use a coaster as to not ruin the wood beneath. Opening the can with your thumb, the cold metal touched your lips as the carbonated drink ran down your throat, hitting your taste buds in just the right way that you couldn’t help but sigh at the immaculate taste.

“I haven’t had this in forever, I think I forgot that we had it. It was in the very back of the fridge by that expired cheese that Atsushi forgot to throw out.” You chuckled, sitting down on the edge of Dazai’s desk. He smirked to himself and opened his own can, nodding in approval as the cherry liquid touched his tongue. 

“As if I’d ever forget about something as delicious as this, darling.” Dazai purred, sitting up in his chair to stare into your eyes. He noticed the way your cheeks took on just the faintest tint of red as he spoke to you, a shade so faint that it would be invisible to the untrained eye. 

You took another sip of the soda, neglecting to notice how the fizzling red liquid dripped off of your chin and onto your white blouse, creating a little pink stain on the delicate fabric. Your lipstick was long ruined, red lip marks adorning the brim of the soda can. Instead, your lips shone with the remnants of the soda. Dazai wondered if the soda’s romantic flavor stuck on your lips, on your tongue. If once the soda ran out, would be still be able to taste it on your adorable mouth?

“Cutie, you got a little something on your shirt.” Dazai pointed to the stain on your left breast, poking it softly. “Right there.” He smirked once more, raising an eyebrow. “Did you seriously not notice? How adorable.”

You blushed and set down the cherry soda on the desk beneath you, looking down at your ruined shirt. “Oh, I guess I did. Maybe I should go home and change while the others are out.”

Dazai shook his head and stood up, grabbing onto your hands with his own. Despite the fact that you were perched on his desk, the detective loomed tall over your form. He rubbed the backs of your hands with his thumb, tutting at you softly. 

“No, no, I won’t have that. You got soda all over your chin, darling.” He spoke, leaning down so hot breath could be felt against your blushing face. “Why don’t you let me get you nice and cleaned up before the others return, yeah? You already do so much for me.” His hands released yours, instead being placed on your waist. “Make a choice cutie, they’ll be back soon.”

Your pupils widened as you felt Dazai’s breath on your face, the sensation of his hands on your wasit only causing the blush on your face to turn into a fiery inferno of pink. “O-okay, you can do it.” You whispered softly, your lips mere centimeters from his own. You had always found Dazai attractive, and now he was painfully close to snapping the tension between the two of you in half.

“Good girl,” Dazai slammed his lips onto your, wasting no time prying open your mouth with his tongue to explore your wet cavern. Your teeth clashes together in a desperate and molten kiss, your hands finding the ends of his chestnut hair. “So good for me.”

Dazai’s hands tugged onto your waist, pulling you against his torso. He lifted up your legs and wrapped them around his own waist, his large and calloused hands supporting your thighs underneath. He groaned into the kiss, feeling your core throb against his clothed and painfully hard cock. “Fuck, God you’re so fucking hot.” He mumbled against your lips, pulling away from the kiss to fill his lungs with air. A string of saliva connected your lips, making you look like the prettiest whore Dazai had ever seen. 

“Been wanting to do that for so long baby,” He moaned, squeezing the plush and supple skin of your thighs. You had neglected to wear your usual black stockings that day, which only drove Dazai when more wild. With your legs wrapped around him, he walked over to Fukuzawa’s office and set you down onto his bosses desk, shoving important papers and other such items off. He kicked the door closed with his foot and then practically pounced on you, his lips meeting yours once more in a wanton display of desire.

“Let’s get this dirty shirt off of you, yeah? Wanna see those gorgeous tits you’re always flaunting in my fucking face.” Dazai muttered against your ear, biting on the shell. His skilled hands undid the buttons of your blouse with ease, tossing it in some random corner that he didn’t care for. He took a second to admire your bra, it was black and lacy, just how he liked his lingerie. “Shit, did you wear this just for me darling?” He smirked, unclipping it from behind with little struggle.

“M-maybe I did, who knows?” You moaned, gasping as the cold air of Fukuzawa’s office made your nipples nice and hard. Dazai groaned at the sight and shoved you down onto the desk, your legs dangling off of the furniture in a beautiful display. His right hand pinched and squeezed your delicate nipple, rolling it in between his thumb and index finger while his mouth became occupied with sucking on your left breast, rolling the brusing skin on his tongue. His teeth were merciless and unforgiving, making absolutely sure to leave bruises once he was done with you.

Wanton moans and whimpers left your mouth as Dazai ravishes your chest, the pool of arousal in your stomach only growing with every pinch and bite and squeeze of your sensitive chest. “D-Dazai!” You cried out, forcibly removing Dazai’s mouth from your breast. “Too much, way too much.”

“Aw, cmon. You’re no fun.” Dazai pouted, his attention shifting to your shaking legs. “Oh, do you just want attention elsewhere darling?” His slender fingers slid down your breasts and under your skirt, teasing the lining of your stockings. He could feel your wetness through the black tights, sighing in pleasue at the sensation of your arousal at his fingertips. “Fuck, you’re so wet. All for me, right? Don’t worry sweetheart, let me take care of you.”

Dazai slid off your skirt and stockings, tossing it into a different corner. He wanted so desperately to rip those clothes off, but he decided to be diligent about making sure that you had something to wear once the others got back. Fuck, Dazai wanted to show off what he did to you so badly. 

“Matching panties baby? Dirty girl, so dirty. And all for me too.” Dazai shoved your soaked panties to the side, taking in how wet and needy you were for him. “God, you’re soaked. You look so damn good, I gotta have a taste. Wonder if you taste as good down here as you do up there, princess.” Dazai lifted up your thighs and rested them on his shoulders, diving in to lap and suck at your sobbing folds. His nose brushed against your throbbing clit, causing your hand to grab onto his chestnut curls tightly. “Fuck! Dazai, fuck!” You whimpered, squeezing his head between your shaking thighs. 

Dazai hummed into your folds, his tongue desperately lapping at them like he was the thirstiest man on Earth, like he hadn’t eaten in days. The way his tongue expertly moved from licking stripes on your labia to sucking relentlessly on your clit made you see stars, the coil in your stomach growing so tight that it could burst at any moment. 

“Dazai, oh fuck, I’m close!” You robbed, your orgasm boudn to approach at any moment. Just as you were about to feel complete euphoria, Dazai stopped eating you out like a starved man. He pulled himself out of your thighs and offered you a teasing smirk, his plush lips coated in your desperate slick.

“Hey, what the fuck! I was so close!” You whined, the momentum of your orgasm fading away. 

Dazai shook his head and wiped his mouth off with the back of his bandaged hand, removing his belt as well as his slacks and boxers. His shirt and trenchcoat were already long gone, just the bolo tie hung around his neck. His cock sprung to life, slapping itself onto his lean yet toned abdomen. “Nuh-uh pretty girl, you only get to cum if it’s on my cock, understand?” He took your mouth in his once more, forcing you to taste your arousal that lingered on his teasing tongue. 

He pushed you down onto the desk gently, lifting your legs so they were spread over his lean shoulders. His cock playfully slapped at your entrance, teasingly slipping in between the soaked folds. 

“Stop fucking teasing me!” You begged, your hands squeezing onto your breasts. Dazai delighted in the show, adoring how you were so desperate for him and only him. “Tch, I don’t think you’re in any positon to make demands here, darling.” Dazai smiled down on you, kissing you forehead chastly. “But I’ll make an exception for once since you look so fucking sexy right now.”

Dazai’s hand pumped his cock a few times, alinging it with your entrance. He slid himself in without a problem, gasping as how tight and wet you were. “S-shit baby, how are you this tight? You don’t let anyone else fuck you, hm? Good fucking girl.” 

His hips snapped against yours in a frenzy, his thick cock hitting every place it needed to make you see stars once more. It slammed against your spongy cervix over and over again, showing you absolutely no mercy. Your pussy clenched around him as your wanton screams and cries of pleasure filled the office, the desk below you being drenched in sweat. The sound of skin clapping against skin echoed against the walls as his balls repeatedly slapped against your ass, both of your orgasms drawing close. 

“God, you’re squeezing me too damn tight darling, looks like you want me to cum quickly yeah?” Dazai growled, leaning down to desperately kiss your already swollen lips. “Is that what you want, hm? Want me to cum so you can get back to your precious work?” He spoke in a mocking tone, his quick thrusts during into powerful slams inside of you to punctuate his sentences. 

“N-no Dazai, that’s not-holy fuck! Right there, right there, right there!” You sobbed as the tip of his cock finally reached your G-spot, your orgasm bound to approach at any seocnd. “Fuck me, please! I’m so fucking close, fuck!”

“So adorably filthy for me darling.” Dazai chuckled darkly, his hand flying down to put pressure on your pretty little neck. “Fucking cum for me baby, cum around my cock while I fuck you like I own you.”

His lewd words were all that you needed to let go around him, the coil in your stomach snapping in half as your orgasm hit you like a runaway train. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, eyes squeezing shut as you felt euphoria for what seemed like the very first time in forever. 

Dazai felt his orgam approach, shifting your legs so only one of them rested on his shoulders. The other leg was being propped up his his hand, giving him a deeper and far better angle. “Shit, gonna fucking cum! Fuck baby, gonna cum inside. Ngh, fuck, fuck!” He groaned, hot and sticky ropes of his release coating the walls of your pussy. You sighed at the warm feeling in your core, looking up to admire Dazai’s gorgeous face that was covered in a post-orgasmic glow.

“Shit…sorry for not using a condom.” Dazai chuckled, pulling his cock out of you. You whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness, sitting up straight and cracking your back. “You’re just too damn irresitable, princess.” He bent down to pick his clothes up off the office floor, throwing your clothes onto your lap as well. His soft lips met the top of your head, treating you so gently, as if you were made of the finest glass in all of Japan.

“Such a gentleman,” you spoke, smirking at Dazai as you put on the rest of your clothes. “Thanks for not ripping these off of me, I hate buying new clothes. They alwasy try to upsell you at the shops.”

“You do realize it’s their job to sell you crap you don’t need, right?”

“Just because your dick was in me a couple minutes ago doesn’t give you the right to sass me, mister.” You rose an eyebrow, standing up. Your legs wobbled a little in your high heels which made Dazai laugh to himself, giving you his bicep for support. “Please, allow me.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, walking out of Fukuzawa’s office. You breathed a sigh of relief as the bullpen remained completely empty. “Oh thank god, for some reason I thought that they had all gotten back and could hear us fucking.” 

Dazai sighed in annoyance at the thought of that, placing a hand on his hip as he walked you to your desk. “I think Kunikida would actually murder us if he knew we fucked on Fukuzawa’s desk. Let’s keep that a secret, alright?” He smirked, kissing you on the forehead once more as you took a seat in your desk chair.

“Alright.”

Just as you finished speaking those words, the door to the bullpen slammed open the rest of the ADA came through, some carrying their leftovers from lunch. As they all got situated, Atsushi sat down next to Dazai with an innocent look on his face. “So, what did you do for lunch? Sorry you couldn’t come, Kunikida is still pissed.” He awkawrdly laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dazai smirked and looked over at you briefly, admiring how happy you looked when chatting with Yosano.

“Not much, just had a cherry soda.”

[cherryrouge]

acquit

lawyer!harry x lawyer!y/n

warnings: profanity, angst, mentions of murder and death

work count: 2.3k

please read action, part I of this fic, before reading this!

“are you still at the office?” y/n speaks into her phone, the gentle whir of the car she sits in acts as white noise.

“it’s ten at night on a friday, where else would i be?” mitch’s grainy voice replies, the sounds of the copier and the flipping of papers indicating that he’s working away in the file room.

“great. i need you to get me a copy of every financial transaction simon bernstein has made in the last twenty years. along with the distract attorney’s office, clifford brown, and mark jensen.” she orders, the car coming to a halt, denoting her arrival at her destination. 

“yeah, no. it’s not like i have a girlfriend to see, a family to call, or a life-“ mitch sarcastically remarks back.

“perfect. and if you could cross reference them and highlight any overlap, that would be amazing.” the sound of the car door shutting seemingly grabs the attention of her associate. 

“where are you anyway?” 

“out with harry.”

“oh? willingly?” she laughs at his response, exiting out of the car after harry opens her door for her.

“we are meeting with harry’s old client.” the old client in question being mark jensen. mitch scoffs from over the phone.

“why hasn’t harry already run a financial screening?”

“i think you could guess.”

“harry won’t let go of the goddamn dna samples.”

“bingo,” the clearing of her company’s throats signals her to wrap up her conversation, “i’ll see you in my office tomorrow morning.”

with that she hangs up the phone and turns her attention to the man beside her.

“finished telling your associate how to do his job?” harry replies with a straight face, snarky in every sense of the word.

“figured i might get us some real, tangible evidence while you continue to have a conniption fit over a goddamn t-shirt that we cannot use.” she offers him a tight-lipped, faux smile before facing in the direction of the bar they were supposed to be able to find mark in.

“what’s your plan with this, anyway?” she asks, earnestly. 

“you’ll see.” as cold and confident as can be, harry starts walking for the door. y/n is quick to hop into motion. 

“to quote your earlier statement: if we are going to work together, you are going to need to understand something about me. i appreciate and expect clear communication of motives before meeting with any client.” she snaps, walking at a faster pace in order to keep up with him as they approach the door. 

“well, isn’t that a shame,” he mockingly retorts, opening the door for her with a fake smile mirroring hers. she narrows her eyes as she steps into the bar. the scene is dim, space filled with music and the chatter of the patrons of the establishment. as far as bars go, this one is quite classy. but she supposes she should expect nothing less from harry or his clients, present or past. 

she feels a hand brush against the small of her back. her head turns toward the culprit, the culprit shockingly being harry. without even sparing a glance in her direction, he beckons her to follow him deeper into the bar with a nod of his head, eyes set on one man. she’s never seen this infamous man, mark jensen. he’s the only name she’s heard for the past couple of days, and she’s excited to finally see the son of a bitches face.

when they are finally met with him at the bar, he turns from his spot flirting with a redhead. he has a slightly horrified look, genuinely not expecting for them to intrude on his night. one she could only imagine he had big plans for. he’s blonde, has blue eyes, a distinct sloped nose and sharp jawline. he’s the perfect all-american man. upon meeting his new, unwanted company’s gaze, a scowl forms on his thin lips.

“what are you-“

“you might want to leave, this guy’s known for killing women. wouldn’t want you to be next.” harry says abruptly towards the woman standing beside mark, who all but runs away from the group after hearing such a worrying accusation.

“what the fuck?” mark says, a hot flush coming to his pale, freckled cheeks.

“i have two questions for you: did grace winfrey reject you? and is that why you killed her?” harry fires back, nonchalant as if he was telling him the weather. y/n’s mouth gapes in shock at her partners words, momentarily wishing he’d quiet down. however, she remembers the case she’s working on and who they are speaking to and quickly regains her composure. 

“you can’t talk to me without my lawyer present.” he retorts.

“oh right, the d.a. you know, i’m shocked he wasn’t with you already. considering you guys are so friendly.” 

“what are you even talking about?” his eyebrows furrow, imitating confusion and anger but his eyes are glazed with worry.

“you and i both know what im talking about.”  harry easily chokes him up, mark gulps down his whiskey and sets his glass on the bar. 

“whatever,” mark rolls his eyes, grabbing his coat from the chair he was sitting in before their arrival, “i’ll see you in court, asshole.”

mark leaves and y/n looks to harry, who’s eyes follow mark as he walks out of the bar and into a car. y/n is shocked, and a little disturbed by harry’s behavior.

“the hell was that?” y/n exclaims in a hushed tone, a bewildered look in her eyes. harry turns his attention to her.

“a means to an end.” he says simply, a smirk on his lips. 

“and how’s that?” she questions incredulously, hands resting on her hips as she looks at harry. 

“because without that,” he points to the door mark just exited out of, “we wouldn’t have that.” he points to mark’s glass of whiskey, absolutely covered in finger prints and spit. y/n’s eyes widen as she realizes his ploy.

“what does that matter if we don’t have the shirt?” she points out as she watches put the cup in a ziplock bag, his hand now gloved as to not tamper with his prized possession.

“who said anything about the shirt? i can still cite the murder weapon.” 

“we,” she corrects, “and the murder weapon has been tested and is covered in our clients fingerprints.” 

“so the district attorney clifford brown, then judge, said.” he states, giving her a pointed look. she processes his words, nodding her head in understanding.

“if your associate can find anything in those bank statements, we have evidence that mark jensen bribed the d.a. to bury and tamper with evidence. then we have a good old fashioned murder trial.” 

y/n walks into the firm with more conviction than usual. confident and hopeful that mitch found something to indicate bribery in the financial records. her heels clack against the hardwood floor and her bag sways with her arm as she walks. she’s happy to see a familiar long-haired man sitting in her office as she gets to her door. 

“find anything?” she says, expectantly as she walks into the space, setting her purse down by her chair and putting her coat on the coat rack.

“good morning to you, too. and yes, actually.” mitch plops the files down onto her desk as y/n takes a seat. 

“great. brief me.” she orders, opening up the top file in her stack. 

“there’s a transaction of fifteen million dollars from jensen’s father to simon bernstein on march sixth, two-thousand four. just two days after the suspects were named and bernstein was employed by the family. they weren’t paying bernstein’s rate as that was done one day before grace winfrey’s body was found. then that fifteen million was deposited and then sent to the district attorney’s office.” mitch states, alluding to what they both knew. mark was a criminal. 

“thank you, mitch.” she says with a smile, happy with the results and excited to show harry exactly what they need to win this case.

setting the files down on his desk, y/n stands tall with a proud smirk on her face. harry looks at the new items place in front of him then to the woman who put them there with a questioning look.

“mr. jensen was protecting his little boy.” she alludes to the evidence of bribery within the stack of papers. harry’s eyes soften with a nod. 

“you got it?” 

“yep.” she replies, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. harry sifts through the papers, finding exactly what evidence she was suggesting. after finding it, he nods his head. 

“you know, a normal response would be a ‘great!’ or a ‘thank you!’” she mentions. harry just rolls his eyes. 

“that should do it.” now it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“our hearing is tomorrow, correct?”

“my hearing.” harry corrects. y/n’s brows furrow and her head tilts to the side, displaying her confusing.

“i’m sorry?”

“i said that should do it, y/n. i’ll be taking the case from here, on my own.” he states, still not making eye contact with her.

“you’re kidding right.” 

“nope.” 

“on who’s authority.” she parrots his question from the beginning of this situation.

“mine.” she laughs, dryly. dumbfounded by his behavior.

“you know, you’re a lot of things but i didn’t think ignorant was one of them.” she crosses her arms as she stands before him. utterly stunned and angry with the man sitting so calmly in-front of her. 

“i’m unsure how i’m being ignorant-“ he begins.

“letting a childish rivalry get in the way of doing your goddamn job, that’s how,” she fires. for the first time since she’s walked in that room, he looks at her and takes in her appearance. her face as she stares sternly at him, eyes narrowed and a frown on her painted lips. if looks could kill, harry would have dropped dead on his desk.

“ever since i started working here, you always had some negative, demeaning thing to say to me. about my work, my accomplishments, anything. and i thought that things were changing, that we were working well together, and that we would start seeing eye to eye but i was incredibly naïve. because if i know one thing about you, it's that the only thing you love more than winning is attention. and you want it all to yourself. so much so that you'd disregard justice."

“this isn’t about us, or you’re ridiculous need for attention, or my need to feel respected. it’s about bringing justice to a girl who was murdered twenty years ago and her family. it’s about freeing a boy who was wrongfully convicted for the murder of a girl he hardly knew.” she barks at him, his eyes set on her’s. he’s hearing everything she has to say but offering no words in return. she scoffs at his non response.

“you know what, maybe you are right. maybe, i’m not ready for the 'big leagues.' because if this is what it’s really about, i don’t want any part of it.” with those final words she storms out of his office.

harry can admit, he has been an asshole. he can also admit that everything y/n said to him was correct. he hadn’t liked y/n in the start. her intelligent quips, her confident personality, the way she held and dressed herself. if you looked at her, you’d just assume she was a lawyer, a good one at that. she had accomplished more in her two years at the firm than harry did in his first five. she was praised, rightfully so. and harry hated it. 

it was indeed very childish for him to be as resentful towards her as he was. she had done nothing to him, except be successful. something he should be happy about because the firm was benefiting from her presence so everyone was. but harry’s ego took a hit. his place at this firm, the most powerful firm in new york, was compromised. each time he made a mistake, he was vulnerable. audrey had made that clear to him. y/n had replaced others in the firm and if he wasn’t careful, she’d replace him. an idea harry loathed. 

he was threatened by her mere presence and she didn’t even have to speak to him. so harry took it upon himself to diminish her, in hopes that she would feel the same way about him. 

all it seemed to do was ruin any chances of them possibly being able to work together in a cohesive and beneficial manner. so when harry went to audrey’s office to persuade her into taking y/n off the case, harry said exactly that.

“i understand it’s disappointing to hear but due to mutual dislike, it would be best if i were the only one on this case.” harry states, calmly. audrey stares into him, face unreadable and mood level.

“bullshit.” 

“what?” 

“‘mutual dislike.’ you can’t stand that someone finally matches your level.”

“that’s far from the truth.” lie.

“she might even be better.”

“i don’t think that is fair to say.” lie. audrey laughs, dismissively. 

“whatever feelings you have about her, drop it.” she says in a stern tone, ”this is a case that requires the focus of two people and i firmly believe that an adult man should be able to see past whatever resentment he has for his colleague to put a clients best interests first.” harry nods.

“you will rectify this misunderstanding, understood?” 

“yep.”

harry styles harrystyles@holmesharrison.com

jensen vs. the state

to: y/ny/l/n@holmesharrison.com

y/n,

the court hearing is tomorrow at 10 am. i expect to see you there.

harry styles 

senior partner 

-

aaaannnddd that's part II. i hope you enjoy!

with love, rory.

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, soft dom Steve, spanking, fingering

A/N: A good spanking sounds more like a reward than a punishment to me.

The toll of too much responsibility weighed heavy on your slouched shoulders. Steve notices it immediately when you traipse into the living room after work. Slipping your heels and blazer off you take the hand he extends out to you, letting him tug you down to the couch to sit you sideways in his lap. He knows that it's too early to ask for the specifics just yet, circling his arms around your waist to hold you close instead. You nuzzle your cheek against the front of his sweater, seeking comfort in his warm embrace and familiar scent. The aroma of freshly printed paper had permeated your office and invaded your senses all day, a smell you now considered pungent. Needing to expunge it from your memory you nuzzle closer to Steve. He's freshly showered, eucalyptus and spearmint lingering on his skin as you readily inhale the scent through the soft cotton, mind going pleasantly foggy.

"Want me to run you a bath?", he offers, kissing you softly on the forehead. HIs voice is mild. Peaceful and full of concern. A dulcet sound that lulled you, completely unlike what had made your head throb for the past 8 hours at your desk. Blaring ringtones, shrill copiers, acid tongued supervisors, colleagues who stapled things too frequently and louder than necessary. You're too fatigued to find your own voice and answer him, shaking your head as the cotton brushes gently against your cheek. "Feeling up to eating something?", he tries again only to receive another weary shake of your head. "Just wanna sit here for a while?", there's a pause from you this time and he thinks he might have landed on the right suggestion when another soft shake of your head tells him otherwise. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, angel. Anything", he cups the side your face, rubbing his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

There was something.

You'd been thinking of it all the while during your commute home. Tilting your head up at him, eyes a little glazed and more than a little dreamy, you spoke.

" 'Want you to spank me".

Steve wasn't shaken by your request. He'd become familiar with how you sometimes liked to release all that tension that had nowhere else to go. He'd done it enough times for it to be another one of those things between the two of you that needed no explanation.

He understood that you needed that bite. That sharp, swift strike. A good kind of hurt. That's how you put it when you asked him for it the very first time on a day that had been just as taxing as today. The kind of hurt that could displace all your thoughts, numbing the sting of your long arduous day and leave imprints of something better behind. You had worried that it made no sense and he told you that it didn't need to. As long a it helped, as long as it was what you needed, he promised to give it to you and he had kept his word.

You laid over his lap, pencil skirt pulled up to your waist to bare your ass, fingers curled around the edges of a cushion he'd handed you to rest your cheek on. He glides his hand over your exposed skin first, tracing the waistband of your thong with his pinky as your eyes slipped shut. You had a safe word tucked and ready at the back of your mind just incase. Another one of the several things the two of you had discussed beforehand. Like where you wanted to be touched and how.

The first hit lands on your left cheek, not the spot and little shy of the amount of pressure you liked best but that's only because he's following what you had asked for.

Start a little high, not too hard- just enough, and when you get lower- just above where my thigh begins, that's when I need you to make it hurt.

You sigh, a contented sound as his hand glides over the impact point. He repeats the processes on the right cheek before returning to the left and then once again on the right- two hits on each cheek. The warm up's over now and the weight of how much you want the real thing is heavy in your belly. You can feel it manifest in the way that your skin had begun to tingle, heating up with all the blood rushing to the surface, leaving you feeling more sensitive to the touch. "Steve", you whimper urgently, an unsaid meaning behind it only he can decipher. "I know, baby. I'm going to start now, okay?", he coos down at you, waiting for to give him the go-ahead. "Please".

Your nails scratch at the plush cushion when his rough palm makes contact with the part you'd specified was your favorite, harder than before and better than the first four hits. Exactly how you liked. You release a shaky breath, toes curling, a hushed, needy sigh leaving your lips. "Yes". The next hit lands on the opposite cheek, sharp and swift with a resounding smack. You cry out this time and he's quick to give you another on the same spot, surprising you. You liked it best when he caught you off guard like this. Another thing you'd mentioned during your talk on do's and don'ts.

"Baby, baby...", he smooths his palm over the hot skin, condescending lilt to his tone and the slightest bit foreboding but it's all part of what you've asked for. Not that he considered any of it to be a chore. "Feeling better already, huh? good. I want that pretty little head empty, understand?". You nod quickly and a little dumbly, going pliant in his lap. The soft lace of your underwear is beginning to feel tacky between your legs and you're sure he's noticed it too, choosing to neglect the need pooling there for the time being. "Forget everything and let me take care of you", he pinches lightly at your abused flesh, the corner of his lips twitching upwards when you moan at the new sensation. "Just keep making those noises for me and I'll treat you right".

You couldn't have held them back if you tried. Mewling and sobbing in his lap, each hit helping you release all that was pent up inside you. Your legs spread wider, a stray slap or two landing on your sticky inner thighs to make you squeal and spasm. "Shit, baby. You need me here too, don't you?", he presses his thumb over your hole through your damp underwear. "Gonna play with your pretty cunt- give my girl something to really cry about". With one hand over your hip to keep you still, he uses the other to snap the waistband of your thong, peeling the ruined garment off your body.

Your ass burns from all the necessary roughness as you rest your cheek on the damp cushion, wet with your tears. "Steve...", another urgent whimper just before he pushes two fingers inside you, hooking them up to drag along your hot, wet walls in quick successive pumps. It's so sudden, so fast, so hard- you're wailing out his name, one of your hands shooting back to squeeze your fingers over his thigh, holding on as your body begins to writhe. "That's it, sweetheart...cry for me baby- want you to let it all out like a good girl". You can feel his cock through his sweatpants, hard and throbbing on your hip as your legs twitch and kick. It feels like you're falling in slow motion, orgasm building with a lazy roll at the base of your spine, travelling higher and higher until he catches on your sweet spot and it bursts into flame and color inside you. The scream you let out is only partially muffled by the damp cushion when you shove your face into it, body bucking and quivering with each wave.

You're so wrapped up in your own climax to notice Steve's pace stutter, still hitting that spot for you, albeit a little messily now. He slows it down when your writhing begins to subside, carefully pulling the soaked digits out of you as he rubs your back with his other hand. "Fuck- you did so well, honey", he heaves a sated sigh and you realize now that the dampness you're sensing on your hip means that he came too. Still feeling a little wobbly and light, you manage to pull yourself up and maneuver yourself back onto his lap. "Thank you, Stevie", wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him gratefully on the cheek. The come down brings a second wash of relief, both of you spent and satisfied in each others arms. "How about I run that bath for us, huh? and call in an order for your favorite if you're hungry?", he gives you a light squeeze to make sure you haven't dozed off before washing up. You meet his adoring gaze as you look up from where you're resting your temple against his shoulder. The answer was 'yes'. You longed for a shower and some food but you smiled back and shared something more important instead. "I love you".

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Given To The Wild [Javi Peña]

three parts, three The Maccabees songs from their Given To The Wild album.

pairing: javi peña x f!reader

word count: 2.4K

summary: "Outside, they navigate around the chaos of the city, alive on Friday night. There are street vendors shouting for attention, and there is music leaking out of every crack and crevice. There’s laughter and there’s singing, and whistling, and yet, the two of them are quiet. "

warnings: reader is she/her, drinking, cursing, overall safe to read

Part 01 - Ayla | Part 02 - Go | Part 03 - Free To Follow | Part 04 - Unknown

Katie looks all but thrilled to see him. And she looks even less impressed with him when she looks at the bottle of red that Javier had pushed into her grasp only moments earlier. 

It’s a good vintage, he’s almost certain, and it had looked sophisticated and expensive enough when he discovered it in one of the less-used cabinets in his office, earlier that day. Why he even owned a bottle of such wine lying around in his office, Javier can’t tell. He reckons that it must have been a gift from some diplomat, back when he first arrived in Bogotá. 

His congratulations are murmured, devoid of any real warmth and barely cutting through the giggles and chatter of Katie’s acquaintances—women whose faces Javier vaguely recognises but struggles to place their names or even the department they hail from. Which is fair. They all look the same to him, anyway. 

Katie’s nod is brief and her glance at the wine label fleeting. “Fancy,” she states, her tone devoid of any real interest. “Can’t say I expected to see you here, Peña.” 

Javier just shrugs, hands buried deep in his pockets. “Didn't have anything better to do,” he replies, his frankness drawing a sharp intake of breath from one of Katie's friends—a clear indicator he's just stepped further into territory he ought to have avoided, his attendance a faux pas in itself.

“Well… thanks , I guess,” Kate answers, her words loaded with sarcasm so thick, one could cut through it with a knife. 

What ensues is silence. Awkward, expected, and so charged that Javier can almost hear and feel the collective anticipation for him to retreat. 

So, he does exactly that. 

Muttering a half-hearted ‘ladies’, Javier tips an invisible hat in their direction before pivoting around, leaving the whispers in his wake to fade into background noise. 

Once at the bar, Javier slouches against it, idly wiping away the condensation on the beer bottle with his thumb as he looks around. Truth to be told, the mental list of places he’d rather be and activities he’d rather be doing, is embarrassingly long and certainly doesn’t include rubbing elbows with people he could care less about. And yet, despite all the racing, grappling, seeking and digging for a solid reason for why he’s here, Javier can’t come up with a single one. 

But, Javier is no fool to his own heart. 

Only, he’s far from being ready to admit to anyone—especially himself—that beneath the indifference and feigned confusion, he’s painfully aware of his actions and motivations. 

He’s painfully aware why he had spent an absurd amount of time, looking for the right shirt and then fretting over whether the damn tie matched; why he nearly stopped to get his hair trimmed on his way to work.  

He’s painfully aware how many times this week he’s had to restrain himself from going to the back of the compound, or how often he’d found himself lingering by the copier just so he could catch a glimpse—or three—of her. 

He’s painfully aware of his pulse quickening when he’d heard Stechner barking out a name—her name—as he ordered her to follow him down the corridor as if he was leading some sort of ceremonial procession. 

Javier nearly gave himself a whiplash after craning his neck to make sure it was her Stechner had addressed. 

Above all, he's painfully aware of the weight and rightness with which her name held on his tongue the first time he dared to utter it, quietly and in his own company.

It’s the same kind of sense or rightness that envelops him when he says it out loud, sensing her presence next to him. As if he had found and tried a key to a cabinet he thought he’d never unlock—unexpected, yet fitting perfectly. 

"I don’t recall ever telling you my name," she points out, having wedged herself between Javier and a colleague he recognises from PAS, craning on her tiptoes to catch the bartender's attention.

“That’s because you didn’t,” Javier admits, taking an unhurried sip of his beer as she places her order. "Guess it’s a DEA thing. We’re pretty adept at... digging stuff up."

She’s smiling now, the rim of her bottle poised against her lower lip, dragging it out slightly. He knows it’s an unconscious action on her part, devoid of any deliberate intent, yet it catches his attention far longer than it is appropriate. Longer than he cares to admit.

"You could've just asked, y’know?" she chides gently—beer in hand—before turning around in order to lean casually against the bar.

She’s wearing the same trousers he’d seen her wear so many times, but the blouse from earlier that day had been replaced by a soft-coloured, long-sleeved tee that sits tucked in her waistline. He notices some dainty jewellery, too; a small brooch in a shape of sun at her collarbone and tiny pearl earrings. 

Before she can catch him staring, Javier decides to shift to mirror her, seeking whatever has caught her attention, and it comes as no surprise that it’s Feistl, attempting to teach Van Ness what can only be described as a dance routine gone wrong. And it’s even less of a surprise that seeing Van Ness fail to mimic Feistl is what coaxes a genuine giggle out of her. 

“So…,’ she draws out—eyes still following his men, making fools out of themselves across the room. “If I were to ask how you're holding up, would you give me an honest answer, or should we save our breaths?”

“ Honestly ,” he begins, a light chuckle escaping him. “Given everything that’s been going on, I’m not even sure I know how to answer that question truthfully. But ask me anyway. Might just surprise you—and myself.”

She gives a nod, and takes a sip of her beer— fingers idly scratching her jawline, right below her ear, in what might be a moment of contemplation or a brief display of vulnerability. Javier can’t tell, so he allows himself to wonder.

“How have you been?”

With the question out in the open, Javier retrieves a cigarette and lights it up—the dimple in his right cheek making an appearance at the absurdity of the interaction they’re about to have. Still, he takes his time before answering. Sifts through the week’s events with calloused hands, deliberately hiding away a detail he wants to keep for himself—not quite ready to confess how many moments he'd caught himself watching her, whether by chance or choice.

At last, Javier is leaning over, tapping the ash into a nearby ashtray as he answers, “I’ve been good.”

"Wow, you really are a man of few words," she notes, a pause in her motion as the bottle hovers near her lips.

"I prefer the term ' mysterious ' but sure," Javier replies, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. "Everything okay on your end? All quiet on Stechner's front?"

She nods, her eyes darting to meet his for what feels like a fraction of a second. “As quiet as it gets. Tough... the other day, I spent hours searching for my flask. Nearly drove myself mad. And then I remembered…”

“Was meaning to return it,” Javier chuckles, “but I didn’t see you around.”

The white lie that falls off of his lips is effortless, and is met with a quiet that lingers for a moment or two before she ventures again. This time, her voice is curious; even hesitant. “I’m surprised that you actually came to this thing. Especially after you and Katie… after everything, y’know?” 

Javier doesn’t answer straight away but simply clicks his tongue and turns around, signalling the bartender for another round. The beer is cold when he wraps his hands around the bottle, and so is his response, “Ah, of course. I should've known you’d bring that up.”

“I’m sorry,” she hurries, busy with nervously peeling the label on her bottle. 

“Don’t be,” he reassures, watching as her shoulders slump with relief. “You’re just saying what’s on everyone’s mind.”

She falls silent, her lips pressed to the damn bottle again, a barrier of sorts. And Javier finds himself fighting the urge to let his gaze linger once again. 

"But, y’know, it didn’t come as a surprise," she ventures once more, her shoulders lifting in a shrug that carries a weight her smile fails to mask. There's a hint of melancholy, a touch of sadness perhaps, as she adds, "Katie's… well, Katie. And I must admit, I do wonder sometimes what it is like to be on everyone’s radar.”

It's a quiet confession, one she punctuates with a glance towards Katie before taking a long drink from her beer, seemingly searching for distraction.

"You're probably on more radars than you realise."

Javier doesn’t expect her to laugh, but she does. And it’s nothing sort of ladylike, but a snort so vigorous and erupting with such a force that it causes her beer to tragically make its escape through her nostrils. She’s mortified, amused and embarrassed at the same time as she brings her sleeve up and against her nose. 

“Javier—,” she attempts once more, clearly amused by his statement. “The only radar I've managed to blip on is Stechner's, especially when I’m lagging behind on typing up his ‘genius’.”

“¡Tonterías!” Javier's grin is involuntary, sparked by her self-deprecating humour. “Bet it’s just your shyness. Throwing off your frequency or something.”

"I'm not shy," she protests, albeit with a smile that suggests she's partly in agreement.

Javier, busy with lighting up another cigarette, looks at her. “Of course you’re not.”

As he rearranges the ashtray around his bottle, sliding it closer, she makes another attempt. “Seriously, I’m not. It’s just—” Her words trail off, and she makes a vague gesture with her hand, as if physically grappling with her thoughts, trying to pluck the right words. “It’s a tactical silence.”

It’s Javier’s turn to chuckle, though it’s more of a gruff laugh, and not nearly as unrestrained as her earlier display. “Tactical silence, huh? Sounds like some fancy term for avoiding trouble. Stechner teach you that?” 

When she laughs, Javier finds himself glancing at her. Lingering. But then, she is answering, and he is looking away yet again. “Occupational hazard, I’d say. Dodging his ego is a full-time job.”

His smile is wry before he’s leaning in slightly. “You know, there ain’t nothing wrong with being shy.”

“Are you saying that just because I shared my whiskey with you, or…,’ she trails off, suddenly crawling back into that place where she is avoiding his gaze. 

"I was going for a compliment, actually.”

A pair of striking eyes is what he focuses on when she gives him a bashful smile. “Really now?”

Javier doesn’t know what to say, so he simply holds her gaze, not really surprised when her own falters, darting away as she murmurs a quiet ‘ thanks ’. 

Not shy —he thinks, bringing his bottle to his lips for a slow sip, stealing a glance at her from the corner of his eye for a reason he can’t quite place. Yeah right.

When he zones back, after he's almost gone through his entire beer, she’s not facing him, but instead setting her bottle down on the bar with a finality that suggests departure. 

“I should probably head home. Don’t like walking when it’s too late.”

“I’ll give you a lift,” he offers impulsively, the words escaping him before he can weigh them.

She pauses, her wallet in hand as she tucks a few bills beneath the now empty bottle. “It’ll take you longer to start your car than for me to walk back home.”

That indescribable feeling, stubborn and persistent, refuses to loosen its grip on him. So, when he speaks again, the resolve in his voice surprises her, but not him. “Let me walk you home then.”

Outside, they navigate around the chaos of the city, alive on Friday night. There are street vendors shouting for attention, and there is music leaking out of every crack and crevice. There’s laughter and there’s singing, and whistling, and yet, the two of them are quiet. 

Javier can't help but try to rationalise what he's doing. He's been down this road of justification more times than he cares to admit, each attempt leaving him questioning his own sanity. Because this fixation on her, this pull he feels whenever she's near—it doesn't make sense. There's something about her that kicks up a storm inside him, a mix of feelings and gut reactions he can't quite name.

He wonders, not for the first time, if putting some distance between them might break the spell. Maybe if he stays away for a while, this obsession will fade, dissipate like the morning fog under the sun. But as he navigates the crowded streets of Bogotá with her by his side, Javier is far from convinced.

The walk to her place messes with Javier's sense of time, stretching and compressing the moments between their synchronised steps and the beating of his heart. Before he knows it, they're standing in front of her apartment building, the night's magic fading as they're confronted by the cold, hard reality of concrete and steel.

And then she’s speaking, asking one question Javier had hoped she wouldn’t. “Do you want to come in?” 

Despite every warning bell in his head, Javier finds the word slipping out, almost against his will. “Yes.”

Her smile is tentative but genuine, and leads the way. 

And there is something both disconcerting as it is compelling to be in her home, Javier thinks. To occupy her place—her sanctuary—feels both entirely right and unsettlingly wrong at the same time. Feels like stepping onto a stage where he's unsure of his role, caught in a script he hasn't read.

"I'll make us some coffee,” she offers, kicking off her shoes and putting her bag away, “make yourself comfortable.”

And he does. He sits down on the couch—his eyes tracking her figure that moves around the small kitchen.

In that quiet moment as he watches her, a realisation tingles at his fingertips and seeps from every pore: his resistance is fading fast. The struggle against his own denial grows weaker with each moment spent in her proximity, with him here and her there.

Perhaps that's why he lets his guard down, and doesn't question the unravelling of his denial. Why he doesn't immediately reach for the mug she offers. Instead, he looks up at her, eyes wide and searching.

“Is something wrong? Do you prefer tea? Whiskey?” she inquires, her smile gentle.

Ignoring every internal warning, Javier wraps his hand around her wrist, pulling himself to his feet. Suddenly, he's there, right in her space, so close that the minute details of her face become a landscape he could navigate—if only he dared. 

There is a moment that puts the world on pause where his gaze drifts to her lips—those soft curves that promise whispers and secrets and everything that he yearns to hear. But as quickly as it comes, the impulse retreats.

This isn't him. Or rather, it's not the him he allows the world—and women like her—to see.

Javier steps back, his hand instinctively going to his hair, a gesture of frustration and confusion. “We shouldn’t—I… I can’t. This isn't—” He struggles, the words as tangled as his thoughts. 

“I understand…” she whispers, the vulnerability in her voice striking a chord he wishes it didn’t. “Silly of me to think I fit the bill, no?”

Javier says nothing. His silence is heavy, laden with words he can't—or won't—speak. Instead, he lets his departure do the talking.

—

tag: @pedroschka, @idontcareihavenoidea, @avastrasposts

[everytechever]

Your All Season Laundry Solution

Sharp remains to be one of the top brands in market share for washing machines in the Philippines with its wide range of high quality and innovative offerings from its Semi-automatic to Top Load products. #SharpPhilippines #SharpBeOriginal

Your all-season laundry essential is here with Sharp providing the best solution to your laundry needs while providing comfort and convenience for all lifestyles. With a lot of challenges arising due to changing weather conditions, especially the occurrence of the rainy season, Sharp is here to provide the best quality of life to its customers, uplifting daily households and providing a life of…

[equipmybiz]

Sharp BP-50C26: Affordable Excellence

Effortless Connectivity The BP-50C26 is designed for the future workplace, where seamless connectivity is crucial. As the entry level model capable of 11 x 17 color printing, it will meet your needs without breaking the bank. Although it is an economical option, it will still meet and exceed your workflow needs. Here’s what makes it stand out: 10.1-inch Color LCD Operation Panel: The intuitive…

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Versus A Printer

[Previously: Cosmere Characters Versus A Toaster]

Once again, Cosmere characters are up against modern technology. In a world where they encountered printers, how would these characters handle it?

Kaladin: Knows that the printer can sense fear. Knows that it will exploit weaknesses. Maintains eye contact with the printer throughout the printing process, sweating nervously. It jams.

Adolin: Chats with his printer every day, of course, but has an in-depth conversation before each and every printing job. It always works slightly faster for him than for anyone else. 

Shallan: Innately senses the printer's passion--and pain. Draws an idealized version of the printer, where it heroically prints sharp images with smooth efficiency. It works much better after that--but only for her.

Yumi: Performs an elaborate ritual before each printing job in order to gain the printer's trust and cooperation. It works...amazingly well.

Painter: Swears that the wrinkled, ink-stained pages he dragged out of the jam are his artistic vision. (It kinda works.)

Elhokar: Is sure that the printer has it out for him, specifically. 

Tress: Must use one of those giant, jam-prone combination printers/copiers/faxes you find in offices. It's large and frightening. Tress is the only person who can consistently diagnose and fix the jams.

Dalinar: Was not aware that printers could jam.

Jasnah: Has an innate understanding of printers due to her Inkspren. I think that's how that works.

Sibling: Is pretty sure that is a spren trapped in that printer and does NOT approve.

Stump: Always claims the printer is faking when it says it's "out of ink."  You just have to shake the cartridges!

Lord Ruler: Was late for a meeting ten thousand years ago when a printer had to do maintenance and has been working to suppress printer technology ever since.

Vasher: Percussive maintenance. 

Renarin: Experimented with printing out ominous, red-ink signs that said things like IT'S COMING. 10 DAYS. But scrawling on the walls was just better somehow.

Nomad: Is constantly living on the edge (prints when he only has exactly the number of sheets of paper required)

Autonomy: Always has two printers facing each other printing at the same time. Whichever one prints slower she smashes with a hammer. She swears this makes them faster. 

Steris: Has actually mastered double-sided printing--knows how to re-feed the pages into the printer so that everything comes out facing the right way up. Even writing this I am filled with intense awe.

Nale: Has one of those printers with proprietary ink where it, like, automatically stops working if you try to use another company's ink. He thinks this is fine. I feel sick writing this. 

Elend: Once said aloud, "Yum yum printer is hungry feed it paper" and now Vin will NOT let him live it down.

Wax: Honestly misses those old dot matrix printers whose pages had sprocket holes on the side and you had to, like, tear them off along the perforated edges

MeLaan: Doesn't use printers. Can eat a stapled, collated report and produce 15 identical copies from her butt. Nobody likes this.

(Well, except for Wayne.)

[n0sewise]

Intern Watch 2k24

(aka posting a first draft snippet of my killugon and leopika The Office AU in the vain hope that it’ll motivate me to finish it)

The office had gotten three interns for the summer. This in and of itself shouldn’t have been notable, but watching the interns had devolved into something of a spectator sport, and Kurapika was not above participating.

It hadn’t started out this way. Kurapika worked in accounting, so he didn’t have much interaction with the interns initially. The first time they spoke, he’d been working on something requiring a great deal of concentration when he heard the distinct sound of someone delivering a sharp, swift kick to the photocopier.

“Come on!”

“Don’t break the copier, Killua!” Gon whispered.

“It’s an ancient piece of junk anyway,” Killua muttered. “Hey, pull up a video on YouTube if you’re not going to help.”

“What kind of video?”

And Kurapika couldn’t help but sigh right along with Killua as he stared at his fellow intern in disbelief.

“How to use a fax machine, genius.”

“Ohhh,” said Gon. “That’s a good idea.”

Eventually Kurapika lost his patience and abandoned his task entirely to show them how.

“That’s dumb,” said Killua. “Why not just send a pdf?”

“I don’t know, just send the fax,” he replied. “And please, do try to keep it down.”

“We will!” Gon called over his shoulder loudly, already trailing after Killua who’d walked away while Kurapika was mid-sentence.

Their third intern was a boy named Zushi, who Kurapika quite liked and was so polite and respectful that he nearly made up for the other two.

Nearly.

“That Zoldyck kid is a menace,” Leorio grumbled to him about a week later. Kurapika had taken to spending his lunch breaks outside on the bench between their office building and the walk in clinic, and more often than not, he ended up sharing the space with Leorio, one of the doctors who worked there.

He looked up from his pasta salad in surprise.

“You’ve met our intern?”

Leorio snorted. “Oh yeah, we’ve met. Multiple times.” He stretched out on the bench and Kurapika found that he didn’t mind when their shoulders brushed for the briefest of moments. Leorio went on, oblivious to the entire thing. “Stupid kids, the both of them. Came into the clinic right when we were about to close because someone watched a parkour compilation and decided to jump off the roof of the building and into some boxes three stories down.”

Kurapika had abandoned his lunch entirely, leaning in with open interest. “And this was Killua?”

“No! It was his batshit crazy friend, the one with the spiky hair, but it might as well have been with the way they were both carrying on. Zoldyck had him hoisted up on his back, and the entire time he’s demanding we shut everything down so that multiple doctors can tend to his friend— meanwhile the kid just has a sprained ankle.”

“Gon’s crutches,” Kurapika murmured absently, connecting the dots.

“Oh right,” said Leorio. “Gon. I’ve been calling them Thing 1 and Thing 2 in my head. Nice kid on his own, but Christ, what a mess. You would’ve thought he’d been shot with the way Zoldyck was losing his mind. Both of them in my office arguing over whose fault it was that he got hurt, and now I have to put in another order for cotton balls because Gon ate so many.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t mention that part, huh?”

Kurapika shook his head emphatically, knowing he was wasting his lunch on nonsense and needing to know the answer anyway.

“Yeah, so they’re both arguing over how it’s their own fault it happened, Freecss is trying to say it’s on him because it was his idea to go onto the roof, Zoldyck’s nearly in tears because he came up with the addition of jumping onto the refrigeration boxes; I stepped out of the room to get some crutches— and let’s be real,” Leorio grinned, “to give them some privacy. When I got back, the little shit was eating my goddamn cotton balls!”

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Kurapika admitted. “Why did Gon eat the cotton balls?”

“To make Killua laugh,” Leorio said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The kid was so upset, convinced he’d gotten the other one nearly killed— and if I’m being honest, with the amount of times I’ve seen them for stupid shit over the past few weeks…” He trailed off, scrubbing a large hand over his face with a groan. “If they were regular people they’d probably both be dead, but the two of them are weirdly indestructible, so it wasn’t a big deal, except now I’m out like half a jar of cotton balls.”

Kurapika blinked. “Are you certain he ate them? That seems...“

“Yes, Kurapika, I’m certain he ate them. I walked back in time to hear, ‘Killua, Killua, don’t be sad! Look how many of these I can fit in my mouth!’ And then the little fucker swallowed them when I tried to stop him.”

“Oh,” said Kurapika. “That’s…that does sound like them,” he sighed.

He didn’t give the interns much thought after that because Leorio wanted to know if Kurapika would like to get dinner sometime, and his brain promptly short circuited at the thought of going out with the hot doctor from next door.