Dancing is a Dangerous Game

(FrankieMorales  x  F!Stripper!Reader)

A/N & Warnings: Sexual Content below - 18+ only, Frankie doing what he do (iykyk), unspecified age gap (anywhere from 10-15 yrs), talk of stripping/dancing as a job that pays the bills. The photos on the Moodboard are just for fun, the female Reader is not specifically physically described so you can imagine her however you want. Thank you to @saradika for the divider.

Did I make this prompt up myself for me and some fellow writers? Yes. Did I set the word count limit? Also Yes. Did I stick anywhere even close to that limit? *laughs hysterically.

PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak).

PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW) 

*1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum

WC: 4749  (I have a problem)

Frankie’s mouth was hanging open. He knew he should close it. He knew he looked like a weirdo. He knew he was about to get a “Catfish, lookin’ like a fish” joke from his friends. But for the life of him he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, or close his gaping jaw.

Not since his babysitter walked on stage and started taking her clothes off.

To be fair, you're not his babysitter anymore. Not since he called you three weeks ago asking if you could babysit for him tonight and you broke the news to him that you'd gotten a new job and couldn't babysit anymore. At least now he understands why you left the not-so-lucrative world of babysitting for an arguably better-paying gig. 

You've only been dancing for two minutes and he already sees more money on the stage than he would've paid you to sit his kid tonight. He’s been watching as you undulate your body across the stage, bending and dipping, stripping down to your underwear. Even though part of him thinks he should, he definitely doesn’t look away when you divest yourself of your lacy little bra.

He always thought you were hot. He was a newly-single dad, interviewing you for a semi-regular babysitting gig. He tried to focus on your resume and your qualifications. He tried to breathe through his mouth so he couldn’t smell your delicate perfume. He tried to ignore the dewy pink lipgloss you had spread across your mouth, which is in stark contrast to the bright red lipstick you are currently sporting.

He was very motivated by the fact that you, as a graduate student in your mid-20’s, seemed more responsible to leave his kid with than the other applicants to his babysitting ad, all of whom were literal teenagers. But truth be told - you were also really fucking hot. Horny dad and the hot babysitter, what a fucking cliche he was.

However, in the eleven months you babysat for him, he never acted on his inappropriate attraction to you. He never treated you as anything other than an employee. You’d show up to his house, hair in a messy bun, wearing comfy clothes, ready to sit on the living room floor all evening playing with his kid. He was polite, and respectful, and was almost positive you never caught him staring at your tits.

Your tits that he’s most definitely staring at right now. Holy shit you have great tits.

“Fuckin’ A Fish, if you’re gonna keep your mouth open, you could at least pour some beer into it.”

“Huh?” Frankie snaps his head back to the table he’s sat at, surrounded by his friends. They all chuckle. 

“We’re about to order the next round and you didn’t even drink any of that one yet,” Benny says as he points to the dripping bottle in Frankie’s hand.

Oh, sorry, Frankie mumbles as he pushes the now-warm bottle to his lips and begins to drink the beer down, his eyes moving back to the stage. The entire club is lit only by colored lights that coordinate with the twirling lights and lasers pointed at the stage, pulsating to the tempo of the music you’ve picked. Fog rolls across the floor of the stage, cascading over the edge. 

There’s a single golden pole at an outcropping of the stage that you’re now gripping with both hands, sticking your ass out towards the audience and giving it a wiggle. You let go of the pole and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. You slowly begin to push them down and just as the crack of your ass comes into view Frankie momentarily forgets that he can’t swallow liquid and breathe at the same time. 

He begins to sputter and cough, choking on the bubbly liquid and spurting it across the table onto the faces of half of his friends. He’s met with groans, curses, and several swats to the back of his head as he attempts to get his wheezing under control, and the fluid out of his trachea.

Santi, who somehow managed to avoid Frankie’s beer-foam projectile, slaps a palm on Frankie’s shoulder and says,

“Guys, Frankie’s real sorry, he’s just never seen a naked woman before.”

The laughter at Frankie’s expense serves as some form of forgiveness, and everyone slowly goes back to flirting with the wandering dancers and ordering their second round. Santi keeps his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and leans into Frankie’s personal space.

“You alright?” Santi asks, squeezing his friend’s shoulder firmly.

Frankie manages to mutter a strangled yeah before several rounds of trying to clear his throat. The lights have dimmed, sinking the club temporarily into a hazy darkness. He briefly registers that the song you were dancing to has ended, so you’ve most likely left the stage.

Santi laughs, shaking his head. He moves his mouth right to Frankie’s ear, almost whispering.

“When I convinced Will to have his bachelor party at this club I thought you’d be the one making your hot babysitter choke, not the other way around,” and he claps Frankie on the back hard, “if you know what I mean.”

Frankie’s eyes go wide as he meets Santi’s crooked grin, but his friend offers nothing more as he moves to the other side of the table, turning his devilish smile on the waitress. He orders two beers and three shots for each man, dismissing the groans of protest from the table. Bachelor Down!, he shouts at Will as everyone does their shots and chases them with cheap beer.

You approach the table full of men with seven other dancers, each of you assigned by the club to give a 20-minute private dance to one of the members of the bachelor party. You’re each in various states of dress, but most are only half-dressed. You’re back in your lacy underwear set - panties and bra - but the sheer nature of the fabric leaves little to the imagination. 

Your previous job as a part-time nanny worked while you were an undergrad. When you started law school it became too much and you had to switch to more infrequent evening babysitting gigs so you had your days free for school and studying. Unable to keep up with school payments you recently had to find something new. Something that only required night and weekend availability, but paid really well.

Enter: Stripping. 

You’ve only been doing this job for a little over a month but you’d quickly gotten very comfortable with being naked in front of strangers. You had your little dance routine and could easily make flirty banter with the club’s customers. Your boss was impressed enough that he’d started assigning you party gigs with some of the other girls, like this bachelor group.

You walk up to the group of strangers, the rest of the girls fan around the table as you’re left standing just behind a broad-shouldered man with a baseball cap on, curls sticking out from under the back strap. You turn to the man with a big smile on your face.

Holy Fuck. 

Not a Stranger.

It’s Francisco Morales. The hot dad you until-recently babysat for.

He looks at you sheepishly. Your hands immediately fly to cover your breasts, suddenly mortified that your nipples are showing through your nearly-transparent choice of outfit. 

“Mr. Morales!”

“Oh I- I already,” he begins to stutter. Is he telling you that he’s already seen your tits? 

You look around at the collection of empty beer bottles and shot glasses on the table and figure that they’ve all been here for much longer than just your dance. So covering your nipples does nothing for your modesty as hot dad has probably already seen everything. You drop your arms to your side, attempting to look relaxed and casual.

“So I-uh. I guess you found a babysitter for tonight.”

He laughs. He actually laughs at your awkward attempt at diffusing the tension. Thank god. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything one of his friends is speaking to the group. He explains that “everyone gets a private dance” and no one can object - and he looks right at Mr. Morales when he says this - because “it’s all been paid for already.”

Following the lead of the other girls you gently grab Mr. Morales’ hand, missing the looks back and forth between him and his friend. You do your best to confidently lead him back to the private rooms with the rest of his group. There are a dozen rooms in the hallway and eight of them have been held in reserve for this bachelor party group. Pulling him inside the last room on the right, you close the door behind you. 

The room is dim, save for the red glow of the lights. The ceiling and floor are both painted black and the three walls without the door are mirrored. Towards the left is a single high-backed black leather chair facing a brass pole that sits in the exact center of the room. On the far side of the room is a curved loveseat against the wall.

This should be easy. Not just because this is your job but because unlike any other man you’ve ever led back here, this is a man you are extremely attracted to. 

This is a man you have fantasized about.

You’ve imagined his curls between your fingers when you’ve grabbed a fistful of a customer's hair, imagined that it’s his stubble scratching between your breasts when you’ve pressed them close. You’ve envisioned his wide chest as you ran your hands down their front, his massive paws in your hands as you’ve taken their sweaty palms and placed them on your rolling hips. 

You’ve wished they were his thighs that you were grinding your ass onto and his erection that you all-too-frequently felt pressing into you. That should make this easy. But instead you’re super fucking nervous. Even more nervous than your first night here, when you dragged your panties down your legs and bent over, exposing your pussy lips to a packed room of strangers. 

What makes you most nervous is probably that the fantasies didn’t stop in the club. It would be one thing if they were just here, serving as a comfort, self-soothing by putting a familiar face in place of a groping stranger’s face. But that’s not the truth. You’ve imagined him at home too. 

In the shower, pretending your hands were his hands as you pinched and plucked at your wet nipples. Daydreaming about his weight on top of you, fucking into you, as you drove one of your toys in and out of your wet cunt. 

And if you’re being perfectly honest, you can admit that it’s been going on for almost a year, since shortly after he hired you to be his babysitter. Remembering the times you’d made yourself come on his couch, hours after his kid had fallen asleep, waiting for him to return home from a night out with his friends. Your hand stuffed down the front of your pants, petting your clit to the thought of him on his knees in front of you.

You never thought you’d actually be naked in front of your fantasy-DILF. This is like being slapped in the face with your own wet dreams. This is kind of a nightmare.

“Listen, you don’t have to-” he begins just as you start to speak as well.

“Mr. Morales I know-” and you both stop and let out breathy, nervous laughs.

“C-Can you please stop calling me Mr. Morales?”

“Oh sorry! Is that weird?”

“It sounds like the start of a bad porno,” he groans, laughing again. “Please just call me Frankie.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry Mist- Frankie. Sorry. Frankie.”

You both break out in laughter again, loudly this time, hoping to finally diffuse some of the tension. A knock sounds at the door and a deep voice - security - asks if everything is alright. You shout back that everything is fine and the room quiets down.

“I should start the music and get going,” you say quietly, motioning for him to sit on the curved red velvet seat against the far wall.

You press a button above his head and music starts up, the first of three songs forming a 10-minute loop that will repeat for this booking. You look into the mirrored wall to your left and notice how nervous you look. Then you meet his eyes in the mirror. Why does he look just as nervous?

You straddle one of his legs and shakily reach back to undo the clasp on your bra. You meet his eyes again. Fuck he can see how your hands are shaking. You look like such a fucking kid. A goddamn amateur. This is going to be the least-sexy lapdance he’s ever been given. 

You can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips when you suddenly feel his hot hands covering yours at your back. 

“You can leave this on if you’d be more comfortable,” he says softly, barely heard over the pumping bass of the music.

“No I’m fine, I’m just…” you don’t know how to explain to him without embarrassing yourself but suddenly you’re making an admission and the word-vomit has left your mouth before you can even do anything to stop it. “I just always thought you were hot.” 

There it is. It’s out there now. 

He opens his mouth to say something and your nerves bubble up and come out as more words and why the fuck are you talking more?

“I know, I know,” you spit out before he can get a word in, “the babysitter thirsting after the hot dad, how prosaic, right? Talk about a bad porno.”

His warm hands still touching you, he slowly moves his fingers around yours, deftly undoing the clasp of your bra for you.

“It’s okay, I kinda… thought you were hot too,” his admission slips out in a whisper.

You really want to kiss him right now. But that would be a very bad idea. Security patrols the hallway and the door has a small window towards the top of it. It allows security to peek inside and see from the shoulders up. Usually if they can see your shoulders, all is good. If they can’t see your shoulders, it gives them an idea if rules are being broken or if the girls need help. 

Kissing - among other things - is against the rules.

You barely turn to look at the windowed door but you’re embarrassed to think that Frankie must know what you’re thinking because it’s like he can read your mind. Or maybe he’s just thinking about kissing you too? Either way he puts his hands back down to his sides and lets you lean into him, allowing your bra to slowly shift down your shoulders until it falls into his lap.

Your tits are right in his face. You’re half naked in front of the hot dad whose child you used to babysit. The hot dad who you’ve pictured doing this exact thing with - and more. But he’s not even looking at your tits. He’s looking you right in your eyes and making you feel more naked than you’ve ever been in your whole life.

He shouldn’t be here, not doing this, not with you. He should ask for a different girl. He should tell the security guy to kick him out. He’s making you so uncomfortable, he can tell by your twitching movements and halting breaths. He can’t stop staring at you like he’s some kind of lonely creep, what a fucking weirdo he’s being.

You position your legs on the outside of his, keeping his legs slightly open and his hands obediently face-down on the couch next to him. You’re straddling him but hovering above his lap, seemingly careful not to touch him. When you put your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself you begin to stiffly roll your body towards and then away from him.

He doesn’t know where to look. He can’t keep looking at your face, he knows the eye-contact is getting very disturbing. Why the hell did he tell you he kinda thought you were hot too? At least he didn’t admit the truth, that he thought you were fucking supernova-hot. He’s had to bite his tongue countless times to stop from asking you out.

He focuses his eyes at the hollow dip that lies at the base of your throat. It has a dance of its own, moving slightly with your pulse and rolling with your shallow breaths, the rise and fall of your chest a baseline rhythm. He tries not to think about your bare breasts just below, breasts that he’s thought about putting his hands on every single time you’ve walked into his house for the last year. 

He can see your deep red lips in his peripheral vision, and immediately the image of those lips on his skin is conjured. He pictures a chaste kiss planted on his cheek followed by a less-chaste thought of his thumb pressed into your mouth, your eyes looking up at him while your lips leave a red ring on his hand. He needs to fucking calm down. This is just a dance. You’re at work doing your literal job.

He suddenly notices you’ve almost completely stopped moving. He looks up at your face and you’re wearing a tight, pained expression. His brows furrow. Oh no. What’s wrong? Is his erection noticable? Is he creeping you out too badly? Do you want him to leave? He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but you silence him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders.

“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t touch me,” you squeak out in a strained whisper.

In the back of his head a part of him thinks that he shouldn’t immediately cave. It shouldn’t be this easy. Part of him thinks he should need more than just you saying that. 

But he doesn’t. At all.

He slowly slides his body down the sofa, pushing his frame between your legs. You move your feet apart to accommodate his wide shoulders once you realize he won’t fit otherwise. He stops when his ass is sitting on the floor and his head is just above the seat of the sofa, you towering over him. He reaches down and begins to take off your platform heels one at a time. 

As your bare feet hit the floor you run your hands up your neck, over your face, and through your hair, your knees knocking at his shoulders. Touching you gently with only two fingers on each hand, he pushes on the backs of your thighs, guiding you even closer to his face. He grabs your feet and holds them in his hands, forcing your legs to fold and pushing your knees past his ears as his head rests back on the seat.

You’re kneeling at the edge of the sofa, shins on the cushion, feet dangling over his shoulders, your toes curled in his massive hands on his chest, and his head between your thighs. Your face still looks uneasy, and he can just make out whining noises over the music. High-pitched and breathy, the way a dog would beg for scraps at the dinner table.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna touch you now,” he growls.

You grab the brim of his hat and twist it off his head, immediately diving your fingers into his locks. He squeezes your toes and you take his cue, lifting your hips and canting them towards his waiting mouth. Latching his mouth onto your underwear, he runs his tongue up and down your covered seam. 

He feels you begin to rock your hips into his face, rolling your body above him. Any security who looked in the window would see your shoulders moving to the beat and assume you were kneeling on the couch and giving a lap dance. He can only barely see you from his angle, sees the lace of your panties, sees your wrists grabbing at his hair.

Letting go of one of your feet, he grabs at your wrist, dragging your hand from his head to the front of your own underwear. You run your fingers down yourself, parting them around his mouth, letting his tongue tangle in them. Then you grab the edge of the gusset and pull it to the side.

Wasting no time, he immediately begins to lick at your folds, tasting the wetness that has gathered there. A lot of wetness. Christ, you’re so fucking wet. His nose touches just below your clit and a string of your arousal attaches him to you when he pulls back slightly.

A slight pause in the music has his heart stop and his stomach in his throat. After a couple seconds - that seem to stretch on forever - the first song begins playing again, restarting what must be a looped set of music. 

That must mean this private dance-time is halfway over. Ten minutes left but since you two probably started after everyone else you might not have the full ten minutes of privacy if his friends decide to burst in the door. Which, if they’re led by Santi, is a real possibility.

Less than ten minutes. No problem.

You must also feel the sense of urgency because you adjust your hand that is holding your panties to the side. You take your thumb and pointer finger and move them over yourself, parting your lips to open yourself more to him and pulling up slightly, exposing your nub. He flattens his tongue in response and drags it over your sensitive bundle, noting the way your body trembles when he does so.

He knows he doesn’t have the time to edge you as he’d like to, but he can’t help himself when he moves his head lower and twists his tongue into your hole, thrusting it into you. You are bouncing yourself slightly up and down, helping him fuck yourself on his tongue. He feels your wetness pouring over his lips and dripping down through his whiskers.

He feels your hand leave your own body and tangle back in his curls along with your other one, grabbing two fistfuls of hair tightly in your grip. Having had enough of his teasing you’re apparently deciding to take matters into your own hands.

Frankie loves eating pussy but this? This might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

He angles his head perfectly, opens his mouth, and sticks his tongue out stiffly as you begin to grind your pussy against his face. You’re using his nose, his tongue, his chin, even the bristles of his facial hair. You’re using whatever you can to get yourself off as you ride his face. It takes everything in his power not to break out in a giant smile.

He doesn’t hear you, you’re still being the quietest you’ve been since you got in this room, but he feels it. Shit, does he ever feel it. He feels your body tense, then your legs quiver, feels the pulsing in your cunt as you press yourself firm into his still-open mouth. He gently laps up your gushing orgasm as you release the grip on his hair and whimper softly above him.

Knowing you’re short on time, he has you climb off him much sooner than he’d like you to. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and then yours go wide. You bend down and grab his hat, plopping it back on his head and attempting to tame his just-fucked-hair back underneath it. You run to the corner of the room and grab a small robe hanging on a hook, skipping back over and roughly wiping his face off with it the way you would a toddler after a meal.

He quickly adjusts himself, tucking his protruding hardness under his belt in an attempt to conceal it as he watches you adjust your askew panties. Still topless, you throw the robe back towards the corner in a panic just as there is a quick knock at the door. Without a signal to enter the door flies open anyways, no less than three of his friends bursting through the doorway drunkenly, shots in hand for Frankie to partake in.

They make Frankie drink the shots before he even leaves the room and then they drag him away from you, hollering obnoxiously. All he can manage is an apologetic look over his shoulder as he hears the final song finally come to an end. Time’s up. Luckily you’re laughing at their antics and don’t seem to be upset. Maybe you were just flirting with him because that’s your job. Maybe you just wanted a good tip.

A tip! Shit.

Being dragged down the hallway Frankie grabs Santi by the arm and asks in his ear how much he should tip you. Santi says he usually tips $200. Frankie is shocked that a 20 minute dance would garner that big of a tip, but then again it’s been a long time since he’s been at a place like this. And to be fair, you - albeit unknowingly - let him fulfill a long-time fantasy of his.

$200 is more than he would have paid you to watch his kid tonight. No wonder you’re not his babysitter anymore. He fishes around in his wallet and takes out all the cash he has, $236. He manages to break off from the group of guys after they do another couple shots and he looks around for you. 

Unable to find you he spots one of the girls you came to the table with and she lets him know you’re on a break but she can get the tip to you. He hands her the folded bills and she thanks him by leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. When she pulls back from him she widens her eyes at him and flashes him a knowing smile.

“I’m sure she’s very appreciative… of the tip,” she winks.

Frankie tries not to blush and resists the urge to high-tail it to the bathroom and wash his face off, opting instead to keep the scent of you on him. He returns to the table of his too-drunk-to-notice friends and finishes out the night of revelry.

.

3:03am

Hey

Hi

3:06am

Sorry

3:09am

You’re probably asleep

3:10am

Hi

I’m just getting home actually

3:11am

Oh cool me too

Sorry to bother 

I just wanted to make sure you got your tip

I left it with your friend

3:14am

I did, yes. Thank you so much.

3:14am

Cool 👍

3:16am

Don’t take this the wrong way…

But how drunk were you tonight?

3:18am

Idk

Why?

What did I do?

I’m so sorry

3:19am

No, don’t be sorry!

I’m not trying to be rude.

I just….

Did you mean to tip me that amount?

3:25am

Oh my god

Was it not enough?

I can give you more

I’m really sorry

Do you have Venmo?

3:27am

No! OMG. It was plenty!

Literally the most I’ve ever been tipped is like 40%

You tipped me 118%

3:30am

Oh

3:31am

Yeah so I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get too drunk

And accidentally just give me everything in your wallet

3:35am

Is that what happened?

3:37am

Because I can Venmo some money back to you

It’s really not a problem

3:40am

Sorry no

I just tipped what my friend told me to

3:41am

Well I checked with the other girls….

NONE of your friends tipped that much

And they were all very generous!

3:44am

But none as generous as you

3:45am

He’s such an asshole

I’m sorry

I didn’t know

I feel like an idiot

3:46am

Again, please don’t be sorry

It was VERY generous of you

And I’m very grateful

3:50am

I was in a giving mood tonight I suppose

3:51am

Mr. Morales, is that you being flirty?

3:53am

Oh we’re back to Mr. Morales now?

3:55am

Can you get a babysitter on Wednesday night?

3:55am

I don’t have custody this week so no babysitter needed

Why?

3:56am

We should go out to dinner

3:57am

Oh we should?

3:59am

Yeah we should

Frankie

4:01am

MY treat

4:01am

LOL I should hope so!

4:02am

Pick me up at 7 😉

4:02am

I will

See you Wednesday

Could I get sum uuuuuuuh bubbglegum with some hints of lemon ice and Neapolitan and bluebell? (Aka Buggy x Reader talking about the rest of the crossguild members but I’ll leave it up to you if they actually include Mihawk and Crocodile as an audience or if Buggy just talks big shit)

Pairing: Cross Guild Buggy x Female Reader (oh and a lil Crocodile and a lil Mihawk hehe)

WC: 2000

Prompt: “You think I don’t care about you? What do you want me to do, push you out there and fuck you in front of them?” 

— — 

*thunk* *plop* 

“Grrrrowwwww…” Richie leaps across the wooden floor to retrieve the red bouncy ball you were casually firing off against the wall of the ship. Richie bats the ball around in his paws a few times before putting it in his mouth and trotting back over to where you were reclining on a velvet sofa. The lion drops the slobbery ball into your hand that was lazily draped over the edge of the couch. 

*thunk* *plop* 

You throw the ball again. Richie repeats his motions. 

*thunk* *plop*

And again. You were bored out of your mind. Your husband had been sitting in the grand meeting room on the other side of the wall for hours now. You knew that with his new alliance with Mihawk and Crocodile he would have less time to dote on you, but you had barely even seen Buggy in days. 

You had tried terrorizing the nearest villages in attempts to keep yourself entertained, but without the warm presence of your captain you still felt unfulfilled. Buggy always made sure he had time to meet your needs, wether that be a hard fucking before he left for his duties or leaving his very own cock detached and in your bed so you could feel him inside you when he wasn’t available. 

But this time, he had left you with nothing. You craved the soft yet playful touch of your older lover. Buggy was a sensitive man and took his time to learn the intricacies of your body and soul after you became intimate partners. You quickly fell in love. You were each other’s perfect compliments. He made you crazy and you brought him back to earth. Sometimes you had to reign him in… but tonight you were letting your crazy slip through. You missed him so much, you missed pleasing him and being his good little girl…

*WOOSH* 

The doors to the meeting chamber were thrown open. You sit up on your elbows and look behind you. Mihawk and Crocodile were leaving the room and the doors were closing behind them. Richie scampered off. 

“Oh I see the clown’s plaything is still sniffing around.” Crocodile remarks as he looks at you. “Don’t worry, little girl, your captain’s in his office safe and sound. We though we’d continue our negotiations tomorrow.” 

Your brow furrows and your eyes darken. 

“Plaything? I am his wife.” You stand up and square your shoulders. 

Mihawk chuckles. 

“A clown’s wife? A pirate’s wife? I’m not sure which is more noble.” Mihawk gives you a once over with his eyes before laughing again. 

Fire burned in your chest. 

“Get out.” You spat at them. You turned tail and threw open the doors to the meeting chamber and let them close behind you. You found your blue haired husband pouring over paperwork at his desk. 

“Buggy…” You begin as you stride towards him. 

“Well if it isn’t my shooting star.” Buggy looks up from his work and smiles at you. You can tell he’s recently taken a blow to the eye. His smile has a crack to it… not the 1000 megawatt spotlight you were used to. 

“I can’t stand them.” You huff out. 

“Doll face…” Buggy coos at you as you approach him in his chair. He swivels it to face you. “I know you do. They aren’t my favorite either, but it’s what we gotta do right now.” 

You sigh. You straddle yourself over Buggy and nuzzle your face into his neck, pushing his soft blue hair out of the way with your nose. You kiss the juncture of his neck and shoulder.  He responds by taking the back of your head in a gloved hand and rakes through your scalp gently. He moves his other hand to grip your hip. 

“And what about me, Bugs? Your girl?” You pull back and look into his green eyes. He continues to stroke the back of your head. 

“What about you then, sweet cheeks? You’re my wife, my lady, my center attraction! I do all of this so we can conquer the seas together!” 

“But those fucking assholes…” You retort while turning your head to the side to escape his comment. You clench your fists. Buggy uses both of his hands to grab your face and turns it to look at him in the eye. 

“What do you want me to do, huh? You think I don’t care about you? What do you want me to do, push you out there and fuck you in front of them? You’re my life, y/n, how many times do I have to get that through your head?” Buggy pleads with you, but he was clearly frustrated. 

“I… I just don’t know Bugs… are we cut out for this?” You question him. You see the sparkle in his eyes fade out, replaced with a burning fire. 

“Y/n…” Buggy lets go of your face, his lips quirking up into a smile. “I am an Emperor of the Sea… and you are my wife… an Empress… if you will…” One of Buggy’s hands cups your cheek while the other cups your ass on his lap. “You will spend no time doubting your authority.”

Buggy quickly closes the distance between your lips and engages you in a heated kiss. You groan at the feeling of finally having your lover’s mouth on your skin again. You instinctively grind your hips down onto Buggy’s growing bulge. 

“My little minx, how long have you been waiting for me? It was just one meeting, doll…” Buggy chuckled as he felt your cunt soak his pants, you having chosen to go without panties under your skirt. “You can’t possibly be this needy…” Buggy says as he lifts your hips to slide his fingers through your wetness. You hum out in satisfaction.

“I’m always like this for you, captain.” You buck your hips into his hand to try and gain more contact on your sensitive bits. 

“Since you’re already so wet… bend over that chair for me.” Buggy punctuates his order with a swift smack to your ass cheek. You happily hop up and shed your clothes before you bend yourself over the leather arm chair in the meeting room. You grab a pillow to rest your arms and head on as you wiggle your naked ass towards your captain. 

“Oh doll face, you’re gonna get it so good…” Buggy strides towards you, unbuckles his pants and shoves them down to his knees. You feel his warm presence behind you and gasp at the sensation of his thick uncut tip pushing through your pussy folds. It comes up to tap at your clit a few times and you whine. Buggy giggles menacingly before slamming his cock into your dripping hole from behind in a single, unforgiving thrust. 

“Ah!” You shriek out. 

Buggy hammers into you at a wild pace, not giving you a moment to adjust. Your legs completely give out and your whole body weight falls forward. You kick your heels up as Buggy manhandles your smaller frame. You couldn’t control your body anymore as you fist the decorative pillows on the chair you were currently bent over. You moaned and squealed as your powerful husband grabbed onto your colorful pigtails and pulled on them, to guide you back onto his cock. 

*WOOSH*

“Clown, we need you to sign a few more papers before we leave.” The doors to the grand meeting hall swing open and Mihawk and Crocodile stride back in. Immediately the duo pauses and looks at your sweaty, fucked-out body poised over the armchair. Crocodile and Mihawk look at each other and then again at you. 

“Gentlemen if you haven’t noticed, my wife needed some extra attention today. My apologies, but she needs some tending to.” Buggy slows his thrusts, but not completely stopping them, making you whine out in need. After being given no response, Buggy resumes his relentless pace inside of you, completely ignoring the two men who had just entered the office. 

Crocodile chortles. He comes around to face you. He raises his hook and brushes your sweaty bangs out of your face. The cool metal provides you a tingling sensation. 

“So you really are crazy for the clown, aren’t you?” Crocodile laughs and watches you try to grind yourself back onto your lover in an attempt to feel more of him. 

In your dick-drunk state you nod your head rapidly, throwing your ass back.  "Yes! Yes I love him! Fuck, so good!" You moan out.

“Crocodile…” You vaguely hear Mihawks velvet voice ring through one of your ears. “I’d be willing to leave our negotiations the way they stand if our colleague can prove himself worthy.” You could hear the mischief in his voice. 

“So you’d like to see the little circus girl cum? I think that might be fun to see… so, sure, why not?” Crocodile grins. Crocodile lifts your head with his hook to look at him. Buggy was still thrusting in and out of your sopping hole from behind. You moan as you feel Buggy graze your sweet spot. “Oh he makes you feel good, huh, little thing?” Crocodile smirks down at you. 

You moan in response. 

“Yes! Yes! Fuck my captain makes me feel so good!” You grin lazily and push your hips back even harder against Buggy’s . “Oh!” You gasp. 

“Mihawk, come look. I think she’s really about to cum, can you believe it?” Crocodiile beckons his cohort over. 

“Of course she is, she’s my baby! Show the boys what you can do!” Buggy smiles wildly and detaches one of his hands to rub at your clit, egging on your release. He presses his other hand down on your stomach. “There it is! Come on baby!” Buggy gives one last thrust inside of you before finishing which triggers your orgasm. You scream as you spray out your pleasure juices all over the office. 

Buggy was allowing the final spurts of his climax to flow into your walls as he pulled out roughly. 

“Now since you have your proof, I’ll be seeing you next week. The deal is settled.” Buggy went back into business mode as he tucked himself back into his pants. He scooped up your nude, lifeless form and seated you on his lap at his desk. “My wife needs some rest, so if you’ll excuse us.” Buggy gestures for the *debatably* more powerful men to leave the room. 

Crocodile and Mihawk look at each other before they silently exit the office, Buggy, hopeful he was done with them for a few days. You stayed in Buggy’s arms for at least 30 minutes as he hummed you silly circus tunes. 

“That’ll buy us a week’s peace. Let’s head to bed, my sweet doll.” Buggy picked you up to carry you back to his captain’s quarters. You nodded your head and let the warm feeling of your husbands arms overtake you. 

xx

Mo

☆Baby,the stars shine bright☆

pt2 ,pt1

inspired by the 'kamikaze girls',♡ always had unconditional love for lolita fashion and nothing else but when she met ellie,an auburn haired girl whos part of a gang with a dad's fashion sense ,her love for clothes begins to compete with her growing feelings for ellie.

strangers to friends to lovers,love-hate friendship,ellie is into reader♡ but reader♡ shows no interest (in the beginning),opposite aesthetics,early 2000s

fluff,wlw

wc: 2k

"Jesus Christ !" the girl exclaimed when you showed her a small room full of neatly piled clothes. White T-shirts, jerseys, tracksuits, jackets, and even shoes were spread out everywhere. The motorcycle girl's eyes lit up brighter than the room.

"all of this, and here I thought I would have leftovers," she said. Her authoritative demeanor instantly vanished when she chuckled, and she felt like she was entering the gates of heaven as she walked into the room.

You let her meticulously inspect the fake clothes one by one, trying to find what she had initially come for.

"Is this all yours?" She noticed your silence and assumed you were used to seeing this type of luxury compared to her.

"of course," you assured, trying not to seem suspicious at all. You didn't even know where your dad got these clothes, and the last thing you wanted was to lose your very first customer.

"bullshit, you stole it, right?" she responded. You couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or genuinely upset. You couldn't see her smirk since her back was turned to you as she shuffled through the fake luxury clothes.

"well, if you don't plan on buy—"

"I'll take this," the motorcycle girl said, holding out a large black jacket that looked awfully similar to the one she was currently wearing, except it didn't have the golden writing of her gang.

But when you wanted to point that out, the auburn-haired girl had already taken 2000 bucks out of her wallet, eager to buy the jacket.

And then suddenly, guilt washed over you again, this time slightly worse than when you'd get money from your dad. "Actually, it only costs a thousand."

You had been pretty unfazed during this entire situation, but her next reaction left you surprised.

"only a thousand? Shut up, it's literally worth much more," the auburn-haired girl retorted, stepping closer to you, summoning her authoritative tone from earlier. You've never seen someone willing to overpay; this girl was truly something.

You looked at the two bills of 1000 bucks in her veiny hands before looking back at her face.

You didn't even know which thing was more questionable: the fact that she was carrying that amount of cash or that she was offended by the "under price."

The look of pure confusion in your eyes made her rethink.

"but if you're being for real..." ,she took back one bill of 1000 bucks before putting it in her pocket.

Though you were bad at reading people, you discovered she was definitely the type to act before thinking. It added to the list of common things she had with your dad.

Your eyes lingered on the 1000 bucks she gave you, and you thanked her gratefully, earning a smirk from the freckled-face girl. You had noticed her beautiful freckles from the moment she approached you; her green eyes perfectly contrasted with them, you secretly thought.

Having accomplished her side quest for the day, the auburn-haired girl shot a last glance at the room filled with clothes before following you to the front door.

The sweet scent of your perfume enveloped her, making her hum quietly. She hoped she didn't smell sweaty during the entire encounter.

Your first customer rode off on her motorcycle after carefully placing the bag carrying her jacket over the handlebar, looking joyful.

It was only when you watched her disappear in the dust as she drove far away that you realized you didn't even know her name.

"you should listen to yourself instead of listening to me."

"I still need your advice grandma."

A decade ago, your mother tried to convince you to live with her, insisting that her misbehavior didn't make her a bad person. With the mentality of a child and the limited free will you had, you decided to stay with your dad and your grandmother, who were rather laid-back. You were certain your closet wouldn't look the way it does now if you had unwillingly lived with your mom.

Thinking about your closet, the guilt you felt earlier was brutally replaced with regret. You wondered what you were thinking when you refused to take the two bills.

You ranted everything to your grandma, and she read you like an open book, from the letter to illegally selling fake luxury clothes. Hoping the wise old lady's words would reassure you, because the feeling of guilt had punished you enough, you were done with the mental anguish.

"you're so tense, sweetheart. Did you even bother drinking tea today?" the old lady asked. You confirmed you had in the morning. It didn't stop her from getting up from the couch to go to the kitchen, preparing for your evening tea time.

Shortly after filling your belly with warm black tea and mentally noting your grandma's words, you easily fell into a dreamless sleep, recharging your social battery.

With no dreams to stimulate your hyperfixation on deciphering hidden meanings, you were left with your grandma's words echoing throughout the morning: "darling, sometimes we make things harder than they need to be. Listen to your heart; it usually knows the way."

You reached the market, following the bright sun shining through the clouds, and quickly left after buying new tea bags. You hated buying things after they ran out. You liked feeling in control, but when you returned home, it was your grandmother who seemed out of control.

"ouch, I'm sorry!" the motorcycle girl kept apologizing in vain as your grandma pulled on her ear mercilessly.

What in the world was happening ?

You put your purse down, rushed to your grandma, and told her to stop hurting the auburn-haired girl.

Though you wondered why she had come back in the first place.

"It's the girl I told you about, my customer" you said, carefully prying your grandma's wrinkled hands away from the girl you hoped was innocent.

You were allergic to dog fur, so your grandma acted as a guardian whenever you left the house, and she took her job seriously.

The girl's ear was dark red!

Your grandmother approached your ear to whisper, "Sweetheart, did you see her jacket? She's part of a gang!" The motorcycle girl could totally hear your grandma's loud whisper; you were squinting your eyes as you felt her blowing so much air in your ear. She wasn't even whispering; she was creating a whole tornado in your eardrums. After convincing the old lady that she meant no harm, your grandma finally apologized.

"It's fine," the gangster lied, but she saw no point in arguing with someone who doesn't have all their head.

You opened your front door again, assuming the girl had come back for clothes. You let the poor girl enter before closing it behind you, leaving your grandma outside to go gardening.

"damn,she almost tore my ear off !"the gangster complained, touching her red ear.

"she's a little bit crazy, my bad," you replied empathetically, feeling bad for the motorcycle girl. "did you try to break in or something?"

You still wondered what happened before you arrived at the scene. The gangster read your expression and explained herself.

"why would I even—" Your assumption made the girl respond defensively. "I just drove here thinking you'd be here, but there was only your grandma, and she started to jump on me like I was a thief or something."

She had a tough appearance, but was it just superficial? You could only look at her like you look at the cover of a closed book; you couldn't read her.

The only thing you could do was apologize, but the motorcycle girl had another idea. She let go of her ear, which had become less red, and looked toward the direction where all your luxury clothes were secretly kept.

Didn't she get everything she wanted yesterday?

"maybe you could, you know... give me a free discount?" She didn't care to be bold; she just wanted to go straight to the point.

Words of apology meant nothing compared to actions.

"Is that what you came here for?" you asked, already imagining yourself going almost bankrupt like your dad.

There was no way she'd come all this way and let your grandma hurt her on purpose just so you could unfairly get her everything she wants, right?

The smirk on her face was full of malice; you already regretted riskily selling her fake luxury clothes.

The motorcycle girl reached into the same plastic bag you'd given her with the jacket she bought yesterday.

She was definitely going to threaten you with a gun or anything menacing!

"actually, no. I just put this in my washing machine, and when it came out, it had shrunk to the size of a kid," she sighed in disappointment, while you sighed in relief.

She took out the black jacket, which had been large before but was now poorly shortened.

Of course, those clothes were fake and too cheap to even withstand a good washing machine.

"maybe you should get shorter."

"my height is perfect, no thanks," she replied, following you behind. She noticed you were wearing a different frilly dress than yesterday, opting for blue and white colors like the weather of today.

Her eyes sparkled when you unlocked the room. It was as if you were unlocking a treasure chest.

She began shuffling through the clothes again, noticing there weren't any new ones, but it didn't stop her from searching through the vintage jackets your dad would wear.

you stood on the doorway hoping she didnt mean it when she wanted to get a free discount when she was literally willing to overpay yesterday

But the proud look on her face when she put on the same jacket over her black wife beater she bought yesterday made you feel hopeless.

"do I look... okay?" You advised her to take a jacket larger than the one she originally considered, so it would shrink to her size after washing.

"my grandma would definitely beat you up like this."

She took it as a 'yes',that comment made her smirk but she didnt smile refusing to break character. That is, until you brought up the letter.

"you know, you kind of write like a child," you said as you folded the extra-large jacket. She chuckled at that, fully aware of her handwriting.

"what do you mean? people say I write like a doctor," she replied, making you wheeze. She didn't appreciate you laughing AT her and quickly looked for a piece of paper nearby.

She spotted one on a piece of furniture, took out a pen from her pocket, scribbled something quickly, and handed it back to you.

"the bill I gave you yesterday is fake," you read, the quirky but neat letters confirming your suspicion that she wrote like an elementary schooler. You lifted your eyes to find her smirking, amused by how easily you'd been fooled.

Did she just scam you ?

After constantly telling her to leave, the gangster assured you she was just kidding and even gave you 2000 bucks for the jacket she had just bought. You were still annoyed by the joke the girl had pulled, but your annoyance turned to panic when you realized something.

When you took the bills the girl gave you, you realized you had lost your purse!

Your blue and white bow purse that you had brought to buy tea bags that morning.

At first, you were in denial. Maybe you just forgot to put it back in its place, in your closet. But then you remembered dropping it outside when you saw your grandma attacking the gangster. Panic set in when you rushed outside and didn't find it.

The worst part was that it didn't disappear alone. Without your grandma in sight to guard the house, it was evident that some wicked person had seized the chance to steal it!

Maybe things would have been different if you had let your grandma tear the girl's ear off...

029. "Bee"-t my dust!

(wc: 0.3k)

You were nervous, to say the least. Yes, you've been in many competitions and won them, but that doesn't lessen your fear of losing.

"You ok?" A familiar voice asks you.

"Oh, hi, Heizou. I'm fine, just nervous, you know?" You say, fidgeting your fingers.

"Ah, a feeling I know all too well, heh." He says, sitting down beside you.

"Huh? Really? You seem so confident though." You state the obvious.

"It's a facade. Who wouldn't be nervous competing with a potential valedictorian?" He confesses, grinning innocently.

"Ah- You flatter me, Heizou. Thank you."

"All participants, please move to the stage to your respective podiums. Again, all participants, please move to the stage to your respective podiums. Thank you." You're cut off by P.A going off.

"Well, Heizou. Good luck." You both stand.

"You as well, [Name]." 

-

"Hello and welcome to the annual spelling bee of the academic year 2022 to 2023! I am your game host, Kamisato Ayaka, and will be hosting tonight's game. I'm sure you all know how the spelling bee works, yes? Alright. Let us first meet the competitors, shall we?" Ayaka introduces herself to the audience and your fellow competitors.

"Ok, what's your name?" She asks.

"Arataki numero-uno Itto!!"

-

"Xingqiu, delighted to meet your acquaintance."

-

"Uh, Layla."

-

"Shikanoin Heizou."

-

"I am Astrologist Mona Megistus."

-

"Albedo Kreindeprinz of the STEM branch."

-

"Raiden Kunikuzushi or Scaramouche."

-

"What's your name?"

"My name is [Name] [Last Name]." You speak into your mic, smiling to the crowd.

"Here are your eight competitors for this spelling bee. Get the most points to win the grand prize!"

Another voice comes into the scene, Keqing's. "Spell controversy."

*Ding!* 

Your podium lights up red.

"[Name]." She calls out your name.

"C-o-n-t-r-o-v-e-r-s-y." 

"Correct." The crowd cheers for you as your points go up 100 points.

"Yes!" 

"Ugh…" Scaramouche groans in annoyance. Is this a challenge of agility now?

"Don't groan, Scara. The competition's only starting."

"Yeah, yeah." 

"Next, spell the word uncopyrightable."

*Ding!* 

Scaramouche's podium lights up.

"Kunikuzushi."

"U-n-c-o-p-y-r-i-g-h-t-a-b-l-e." He says with very little hesitation in his voice.

"Correct." 

Ah, may the battle begin, Raiden.

previous :: MASTERLIST :: next

Of All People… - scaramouche x fem!reader smau

SYNOPSIS When you, a student who finds her best friend admits the terrors of high school. A best friend who’ve you’d hated ever since he left. Of all people, why was he the one to make you swoon, a person you swore to hate?

Fun facts!

let me tell you how hard it was to write that in mobile omfg

Kazuha's list is actually trusted sjhfj

your friend group and scara's friend group are in the audience

2000 dollars for the champion, 1500 dollars for 1st runner up, 1000 dollars for 2nd runner up

Taglist;

@viridescent-ivy @sakiimeo @ttoshiiroz @lxry-chxn @stopandget-help @r0ttenhearts @h-8chi @thenightsflower @killuixz @linn-a-a @vodkistt @raideneiari @yuyan @layla240 @barbatosfavouritenun @plinkuro @taikabae @beriiov @ghostxrism @rifran @elakari @kairxse @belovedxiao @alwaysmentallyill @mellowknightcolorfarm @xingyunclouds @scooofyaei @nambii @scaraapologist @samyayaya @kunikuzushisbeloved @dee-zbignuts @kaekazuha04 @monochromaticelliot @erosdevil @wisteriarain @kaoyamamegami @dazaiswifenicole @phoenix-eclipses @vivinsoul @vuvulia @r4yyyyy @cinnamontimecrunch @whatamidoing89 @aludicpoet @cindywasneverhere @vvasant @st0pthatsgay @kxr0mi @divinechicha @sketcheeee @wonderful-worlds

Clipped Wings

”i could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; i would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. i would know him in death, at the end of the world"

— madeline miller

summary: He was like the fresh breeze on a warm summer day, brushing over your skin with the most delicate of touches.

He knew just the right words to say and how to say them, and lies slipped from his lips easier than wine slid down his throat.

pairing: venti x fem!reader

content warnings: foul language, panic attacks, mentions of alcoholism, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of abuse and trauma, mentions of torture, religious symbolism, and suggestive scenes (including innuendos)

ch.1 wc: 1.9k

author’s notes: earlier chapters are between 1000-2000 words long.

this fic is semi canon divergent. only few canon events will be mentioned, and timeline is around 3.0 when the traveler is just entering sumeru.

cross-posted on ao3 & wp (-FOC4LORS)

CHAPTER I: sowing the seeds of hope

"Oh what pain doth the heart sing

When faced with the churn of old love's sting...

The seeds of hope shall be thrown askew

And a maiden's heart will be turned anew"

The lovely sound of a lyre in the corner of Angel's Share tavern attracted your attention. Setting down the bard's drink on the table and tucking a tray underneath your arm, you sent him a small smile.

"New song?"

"Yep!" he giggled, taking a sip of the drink you placed down. "I think I'll call this one: (name)’s Woes! How's it sound to you?" His ever playful tone rang in your ears; a pleasant change from the recent events.

Just the thought of said events made a bitter taste settle on your tongue and your heart ache in a painful way. It had been hard to get your mind off of things lately.

You sighed, averting your gaze to the floor. "Well, considering you have a knack for picking up on other's emotions, I'd say, yes... it fits the mood quite well." You met his cerulean eyes again, which were now shining with more mischief than before. You could only assume the tricks he was holding up his sleeve, and wondered what kind of tomfoolery he'd pull off just to elicit a smile from you.

"Care to drink with me?" he offered, the question a little quieter than his earlier enlightenments. "You look like you need a break." He gave you a once over. To be fair, you did need a break. A break from everything, even your job at the tavern.

Shaking your head, you clicked your tongue. "Would love to, but I'm technically still on shift. But, you can keep playing— our patrons love your performances." You sent him a warm smile, one that made the tips of his ears turn pink and his heart to start racing.

"You seem to enjoy them more than they do, though," he smirked, sending you a knowing look as he strummed his lyre again.

Of course... there was the teasing. You expected it to come at some point after talking with him.

And he wasn't entirely wrong, either... you loved his songs, always finding your eyes wandering to him when he was performing in the plaza. However, you never thought anyone noticed... much less Venti himself. You had always thought you were being subtle in your intrigue. Nothing got past the bard, you knew that all too well by now.

A little flustered, you grabbed the wine glass from the table before he could take another sip. It was almost empty. "I'll go get you another wine," you turned on your heel, hearing the bard chuckle. Before he could utter a retort, you swiveled back around. "But only if you behave!"

He saluted you, "Yes, ma'am!" he winked, watching as you stormed off behind the counter before thinking up a new song. His eyes drifted to you, watching as you prepared another wine for him.

He frowned. It was no secret that your recent relationship with the chief alchemist had taken an immense swan dive. No one really saw it coming... especially since the two of you were so infatuated with each other. But alas, he made the mistake of tossing you aside and shouting hurtful words at you when you expressed how lonely you felt as of late... and to top it all off, his outburst had happened in a public area, where he freely humiliated you and treated everything as if it had been nothing. As if he had never cared for your feelings at all.

And to think it all started because you were a little upset that he was spending so much time on his research and little time with you.

Usually you didn't mind all that much when he was busy with work, as being an alchemist was his job, and the immense fixation he had on his interests were understandable, but he had been putting off spending time with you for over a month. At first, you didn't say a thing, mainly because you thought you were simply being petty or acting childish— but after trying to talk to him about how you felt, and having your feelings be completely ignored, you realized that no... you weren't being childish.

He was blatantly ignoring how you felt, and he had the audacity to think you'd still stay with him after he yelled at you like he did. After he utterly humiliated you and destroyed every single shred of dignity you had left.

From an outside perspective, everything between you two seemed fine... but maybe that was because you were an expert liar. If it weren't for you dropping the news to your boss last week, then Venti would've never known anything had been going south so fast in the first place.

Diluc had offered you a day off from work to take some time to yourself, but you refused. You knew that if you were left alone, your mental state would deteriorate further. Therefore, you continued to work, seeing as it was a delightful distraction. And indeed, it was... even though the shouts of drunkards weren't particularly any better than the thoughts that roared on like a waterfall in your head.

Maybe you should've taken that time off after all...

Venti could tell the whole ordeal must've taken a toll on you... after all, dating someone for two years and then suddenly breaking up with them had to be hard. He pondered on whether or not he should conjure up a new song for you and play it when it's finished. The one he just played for you was something he merely thought up on the spot and used as a mood lightener. If he were to make you a real song, he'd want to do it right— it would have to be perfect; no teasing or sneaky lyrics.

"Here's your wine," you slammed the glass down onto the table, making him flinch a little as he was brought out of his stupor.

"Aw c'mon now, (name)! Spare an innocent bard, will you?" he teased, batting his eyelashes. "You know, if you intend to attract more patrons, you'll never do it by making that face and acting all violent." He chuckled when your eye twitched, and sent you a knowing smirk. He was definitely looking for trouble tonight, that was for sure.

"Innocent, huh? More like shameless!" you retorted, rolling your eyes as you remembered the countless times he's flirted with you when you were already in a relationship with someone else. Not like you minded the sudden adoration, but it was a bit uncomfortable at the time. Now though...

"Learn to control yourself— especially when in the presence of a taken woman!"

"Not to be insensitive, but you don't classify as a taken woman any longer," Diluc interrupted, joining the two of you at the table. He set down a Dead After Noon on the table before you, nudging it in your direction, and glanced between you and Venti. Was he subtly insisting that you should take a break?

"So, to be frank... anyone could try their chances with you right about now."

You didn't like the way he said that... it sent a shiver down your spine as his crimson eyes bore through you, before they shifted back to Venti with a warning glare. "However, some people need to learn what restraint means. Taken woman or not." Then he was gone, retreating back behind the bar to serve a drunkard.

You hadn't even realized he had been here tonight until now. Had you been that caught up in your thoughts since the start of your shift?

You let out an exasperated sigh and crossed your arms overtop of the table. Venti was back to humming and strumming his lyre, the melodious tune that left his lips beginning to lull you into a calmer state. This was why you loved his songs. They were serene and told tales of love, woe, war, and tragedy. Each one had a meaning, and whether or not you knew those meanings, they were still delightful to hear. Your favorite was the one telling of a young maiden who fell in love with a god.

No matter how much the maiden wished to ascend to the heavens and be with him, she couldn't. She was fated to stay on the surface as a mortal, and her lover was doomed to eternity in the skies. Even though it was a tragic tale, the love portrayed between the two was something you could only ever dream of. You were silly to think you found that everlasting love with your ex.

Then again, you really did think the two of you would have a bond stronger than that in fairytales— one forged in blood and cherished until the end of time. That was your childish dreams speaking... to wish for something that only existed within your wildest daydreams. To think that your first love would be worth salvaging until your dying breath. How naïve you were to believe it all.

"You like that one, don't you?" Venti questioned as the song neared its end, drawing you from your thoughts. He could somehow sense the downward spiral of your emotions, and quickly diverted your attention to something else. You admired his knack for reading others' emotions, and having a high sense of empathy for those around him. He truly was enticing.

You opened your eyes, being met with vibrant crystal blues mixed with verdant greens. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes in the first place, but the sight of Venti gazing at you made you push the thought aside.

His eyes were brisk, like the breeze on a hot summer day, yet warm like a campfire on a chilly night. Though, there was always something off about his eyes; an underlying sadness laid deep beneath his cerulean irises, hazing over his curious stare like a thunderstorm over a raging ocean. You wanted to debunk whatever it was, but you knew that even if you tried, he wouldn't let you.

You smiled sadly, "Yeah... it's definitely my favorite."

He chuckled softly. The beating of your heart seemed especially loud in the corner the two of you sat in, so loud that you swore he could hear it. And unbeknownst to you, he could. He could hear every raced thump inside your ribcage, every shallow breath of air you took in to your lungs— cause what was a bard if not someone who could read the souls of those he wrote ballads about? And he suddenly had an idea for a new one.

"You tend to like the love songs more than the others. Shall I play more of that genre when you're around?"

Maybe he ought to write one for you if you admired them that much. The thought made him want to start on it right away... and he was already coming up with the perfect melody.

"Please," you sighed in relief, resting your head upon the table as Venti chuckled once more and began to play another one of your favorite songs, one shrouded in a blissful tune and depicting the love of two people who lived out the rest of their lives together happily.

"As you wish."

author’s notes: i hope u enjoy this fic as it progresses! the first 3 chapters are a little ehh but that's simply cause i wrote them back when i had no clear plot to go off of. i'll prolly end up rewriting them later on, but for now they'll stay how they are.

chapter 2

The Cursed Slave ch.1

an: I have no idea how long it's gonna be or whether or not I'm gonna ditch it, since I'm already upset with this fic as my proofreader shits on me and took more than 3 weeks and I didn't hear anything from them since. But I'm very invested in this fic. It's supposed to be a slowburn with eventual smut bc its Sukuna and my brain is rotten. wc: 1.6k tw: slavery??

Sukuna has always had a preference for the innocent ones.

It wasn’t because he wanted someone to take care of or because he liked to be gentle, no. It was rather the opposite. Innocence was fun. Fun to break. He delighted himself in how they always crumbled under his touch, succumbing to what they’d sworn their life to always run away from. It was amusing to play with his victims, play with their emotions, and make them addicted to his presence, his mere attention and physical contact. Addicted to the point of madness.

A slave. An empty shell of what formerly was a human. Why did this happen to me, you wondered, as one of them yanked you harshly by the chains connected to the collar around your neck and handcuffs on your wrists, causing you to fall. – "Pathetic maggot" – he scoffed, lifting your body and throwing you over his shoulder – "Can’t even walk, we probably won’t even make any money off selling you." – he said, carrying you over to the bidding area. 

You didn’t care. You didn’t care who is going to buy you or how much they were going to pay for you. It’s not like it matters. You don’t exist. Since that very day when the purge happened in your village, you were dead. They killed you with everyone else. Burned you down with all the houses, crops and memories. Except they didn’t. You and the group of other village girls and young women were spared and took prisoners to be sold. Were you really spared, then? They all were taken with different men, making it impossible to plan any way of escaping as you were completely alone. Where would you go, anyway? Every person you used to know was long gone. 

The room is cold and damp, circle shaped with a pedestal in a middle. Filled almost to the brim with monks buying slaves for their kings, as well as nasty drunkards, wanting a toy for their own sick pleasure. The moment you entered the room, sickening catcalling noises hit your ears and you wanted nothing more than to disappear. Your oppressor dragged you on the pedestal and then spun you around, like a little rag doll causing the group of those disgusting barbarians to whine even louder and the auctioneer hushed them to start his speech. – “Gentlemen, please! This one is our last for today, so calm down and we all can go home. Starting price is 1000 gold pieces!” – You hung your head. Your life was worth just a bit more than a couple loaves of bread now. Stinging tears started forming up in the corners of your eyes, as there was a brief silence in the room. Were you worth even less? Will they kill you, if no one buys you?

- “1500!” – shouted one. Strange relief, followed by terror when he continued – “she will make the cutest housewife for me and my men!” – a loud, repulsive smack of his lips filled your head and your stomach dropped. You’ve never been a religious person, but you found yourself praying to any possible god that was out there. Please, please, please NOT him. – "2000!" – Said another. Your body started shaking involuntarily as the bid went higher but you couldn’t dare to look, at who was going to be your next owner. You prayed for all of this to be just a sickening nightmare.

Your blood ran cold when you heard soft but a firm voice say “two million” and, as shocked as the rest of the attendees, you looked toward its source. It was a monk, dressed in a dark blue robe, with chin-length white hair. Your heart started racing, as maybe, just maybe the person you’ll be sold to, won’t be your death, judging by the stoic look of your bidder. 

Everyone was too shocked to proceed, the auctioneer sold you to the monk right away.

Grabbing your chains, the oppressor from before was about to drag you to the monk only to be stopped by their raised hand. – “Now, now. There’s no need to be this harsh.” – They spoke elegantly. The tiniest flick of fire lit in your heart, giving you a promise, you desperately tried to hold onto. Were you actually saved now?

The monk came up to you and you lowered your head, not daring to look at them. You’re just an object, after all. You’re not worthy to look at anyone without permission. A hand touched your chin lifting it and you yelped softly at a sudden, gentle contact. They looked into your eyes and smiled. – “Come on, we need to make you look appropriate before you can see the Master. My name is Uraume. Let’s go to your new home.” – Home. You wanted to both laugh and cry at that word. Your home. Flashbacks of the purge immediately hit you and you couldn’t hold the tears that rolled freely down your cheeks. 

Your village was your safety. You led a simple life of a young adult woman and helped your parents with daily errands, the farm and the crops. Sometimes you also would help other elderly neighbors as not many of them had kids on their own. The population structure in your village was rather an old one and you didn’t have any plans of changing that. You just weren’t interested in any village man you knew for your entire life. Every single day was the same, but you couldn’t care less. Of course, you longed for some thrill in your life, like from those tales your mom used to tell you. About a young village girl who met a prince and they lived happily ever after. Sometimes you even let yourself fantasize and think about “bad guys” coming to the village and a charming prince appearing out of nowhere, to save everyone and falling in love with you instantly. It certainly was something, that should only be a mere fantasy, right? 

Your village was a safe place, after all. Every full moon a sacrifice in the shape of a cow, pig or calf was taken away to the place you would rather not think about. But it kept your village safe. Something, certain someone was protecting your home and you never wanted to delve into details. 

You’ve heard a lot about neighboring villages being seized by brigands but nonetheless, the villagers weren’t scared. They said the sacrifices they’re giving suffice and so you were calm about your life as well. Until one day your fantasies became true. But partially. 

You woke up to the horrific screams of villagers and the smell of smoke. Looking out through the window you could see the fire, dangerously dancing on the rooftops of the houses you knew so well. You could hear voices you know, screaming, begging for help. Feeling the urge to stand up and do something, help them, fight! Fight? You are a common village girl who can’t even hold a bow properly. Cursing yourself mentally, you opened the window as silently as possible and you slid through. You had to hide, somewhere. But, to your misfortune, the second your feet touched the ground a pair of arms grabbed you, a hand covering your mouth to silence your cries, and you’ve been dragged somewhere. 

All the things they’ve done to you and everyone and everything…

Your prince never showed up…

- “Hello?” – a snap of fingers in front of your face brought you back to reality. Before you stand the same, white-haired monk that just bought you. Their dark-pink eyes looking intently at you – “I’ve asked you a question. What is your name?”

Your name? No one’s asked about it in so long, you almost forgot what it was. Did it even matter anyway? You whispered your name, barely audible though – “But I’ll answer to anything my new Master chooses to” – you add immediately. 

The monk smiled lightly and reached for a key, that the auctioneer must’ve given them when you were lost in your thoughts and unlocked your handcuffs and the collar, and started walking towards the direction of your soon-to-be-home. A hiss left your lips as you grabbed your wrist to massage the bruised skin. How long were you chained for? Weeks? Months? You don’t even know, time lost its meaning long ago. – “Are... Are you not worried that I might escape?” – you asked sheepishly. 

You could hear them chuckle shortly and they looked at you over their shoulder, without stopping – “I know you have nowhere to go, I know what happened to you. Besides, I’m taking you to the safest place you could ever be at. If you’re wanted there.”

The last bit leaves a dreadful chill running down your spine. But… How did they know what happened? You had so many questions forming up in your head and somehow, you felt like you can trust them. Uraume, was it? – “Ummm… U-Uraume…?” – you started, suddenly regretting using their name like this and all you wanted was to crumble into dust. You shut your eyes, waiting for a punishment that didn’t come and only heard a hum in response. Opening your eyes you saw the monk facing you now, their eyes tinted with concern – or so you imagined. – “I… What… Who… Who is going to be my new… New Master?” – you hate how this all sounds on your tongue. you knew you were going to hate them. You just wanted to be free. Not to be someone’s puppet, you wanted to live life again. “I know you have nowhere to go” the echo of Uraume’s words hit you instantly as if to mock your situation. 

They smiled at your question, turned away and started walking again. – “Your new Master? It’s Ryoumen Sukuna.”

Your stomach dropped. 

©tsukiyohanayome 2022 no next chapter date bc I have no idea and I'm just starting my new work, but I'll try my best to upload it next month or so

taglist: @sakuraryomen01 @xxnghtclls @dr-skazkaif you want to be on the taglist drop an ask or comment here

EPERVIER DERIVEUR ACIER

“CONNIVENCE” est un EPERVIER acier à bouchain en dériveur lesté aux volumes intérieurs adaptés à la navigation hauturière. Construction chantier, sur plans Bernard Veys, offrant 3 cabines doubles, Voiles neuves, Moteur Yanmar 30 CV récent (1057h), Dessalinisateur, éolienne, panneaux solaires sur portique, chauffage, radar… régulièrement entretenu par son propriétaire ingénieur technique. Bateau visible à Port Maritima – Martigues. Moteur YANMAR – 3YM30(2013) , 29 CV diesel(1057h), entretenu régulièrement par son propriétaire. Ligne arbre , joint à lèvres,hélice tripale fixe, barre à roue hydraulique L&S Capacité gasoil 300l – réservoir CP Époxy vitesse moyenne 6 nds, conso moyenne 3.3L/H Aménagements : 2 cabines doubles arrière, cabine avant double, carré transformable (8/9 couchages). Salle eau avant avec lavabo, rangement, WC marin + réservoir eaux noires. Bloc cuisine à bâbord comprenant : évier, réchaud, four, réfrigérateur (refroidissement eau de mer), capacité eau : 200l, Dessalinisateur (2016) 40l/h de marque Eco Tec. Coin navigation à tribord de la descente avec tableau électrique entièrement refait + appareillages. Voiles & Accastillage : Grand Voile (Voilerie Phocéenne) 2021 , Génois enrouleur (Voilerie Phocéenne) 2021, Trinquette, Tourmentin, Spi symétrique avec chaussette + tangon. Gréement dormant ACMO (origine), drisses remplacées en 2019, bas étai changé en 2006, enrouleur de Génois Profurl ,hale bas, Frein de bôme Walder, chaussette, écoutes, tangon, renvois au cockpit + pied de mât, winchs Barbarossa 40. Housse de bôme, taud soleil, capote descente. Électronique : Loch speedo sondeur, VHF, Girouette,GPS Furuno, Radar JRC 1000 (2006), Pilote Raymarine SPX 30 (2013), Radio CD, clé USB, Réseau NMEA 2000, Compas sur colonne Plastimo (neuf dans son emballage). Divers : batterie 180A(2021), 220v en conformité, éolienne AIR MARINE, 2 x 50w panneaux solaires, jupe arrière avec échelle bain, pompe de cale manuelle + électrique, chargeur automatique 40A, onduleur 220v/350w, chauffage Dickinson (2014) aucune consommation électrique, Guindeau Goiot manuel + 2 mouillages complet (70m chaine inox), annexe Zodiac (2008) 2.60m. Boitier électrique portatif reprenant les infos (SOG/CDG/SONDEUR/ANEMOMETRE/GIROUETTE/MATERIEL DIY) Outillage fourni (extracteur hélice..), schéma de câblage électrique fourni, toutes les documentations technique de tous les accessoires. Travaux effectués: entretien anti corrosion régulier, remplacement des feux mât/projecteur pont/drisses/remplacement feux de navigation/sablage lest + puits mouillage 2017/capots de coffres en inox… Bateau isolé, coque à bouchain – 10T, pas de taxe douanière, Hauteur sous barrot 185cm. Read the full article

🌲👶 Waisenkind Challenge Sims 4 „Ausgesetzt im Wald“ 👶🌲

Link zum Erklärungsvideo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=56BdSIbFEa0

💔 Story: Mama ist ungeplant schwanger, will Kind aber nicht, setzt es im Wald aus 💔

✨VORBEREITUNGEN✨

➡️ Erstelle zwei Eltern und ihr Kleinkind (das ist der Sim, den ihr dann spielt)

➡️ Erstelle einen verwahrlosten Sim, der im Wald wohnt (Teenager oder junger Erwachsener) der dir hilft, eine neue Familie zu finden (Sim soll sehr seltsam sein)

➡️ Platziere die Familie auf einem Grundstück und entferne dann, wie im Video erklärt, die Eltern.

➡️ Platziere das Grundstück „Ausgesetzt im Wald“ (suche in der Galerie nach: #nesmeraldawaisenkind oder meiner ID: NesmeraldaYT und aktiviere links unter erweitert: Benutzerdefinierte Inhalte einbeziehen - ist aber ohne und nur mit Basegame gebaut) oder bau einen eigenen Wald (dafür gibt es natürlich kein Geld Limit). Auf dem Grundstück ist ein “Keller”. Der wird erst als Kind wichtig, als Kleinkind einfach ignorieren bitte :D

➡️ Wenn ihr fertig seid mit dem Wald: mit STRG + Shift + C-Taste Cheat Konsole öffnen und zuerst „testingcheats true“ und dann „money 20“ eingeben (ohne „“).

✨START✨

➡️ Leben als Kleinkind:

Kleinkind ausgesetzt im Wald mit 20 Simoleons!

Du triffst auf den verwahrlosten Sim, er wohnt auch im Wald.

Du darfst den verwahrlosten Sim steuern ABER dich nicht um die Bedürfnisse des Kleinkindes kümmern

Leben im Wald:

Tag 1: Freunde dich mit dem verwahrlosten Sim an

Tag 2: Ihr sprecht beide mit ganz vielen Fremden, bettelt und versucht Freunde zu finden

Tag 3: Ihr findet raus wo eine bestimmte Familie wohnt und lungert vor ihrem Haus rum (könnt anklopfen aber nicht in das Haus gehen)

Tag 4: Klopft an und geht in das Haus. Freunde dich mit den Familienmitgliedern an. Wenn du mit allen gesprochen hast und dich mit ihnen verstehst, verschwindet der verwahrloste Sim wieder auf eurem Waldgrundstück und du wirst von der Familie adoptiert.

Lerne so viele Skills wie es geht & sammle alles was du finden kannst

Werde zum Kind und verschwinde mit 300 Simoleons + Zelt + Kühlbox

Ändere dein Aussehen komplett

➡️Leben als Kind (zurück auf dem Start Grundstück Cheat: freerealestate on):

Du triffst wieder auf den verwahrlosten Sim auf eurem Grundstück

Geh nicht zur Schule

Baut euren Unterschlupf im Wald weiter aus, auch gerne unterirdisch. Du darfst aber keine Dusche & WC haben

Duschen & auf’s Klo gehen darfst du in öffentlichen Anlagen oder bei Fremden Zuhause

Rede viel mit Fremden und sammle alles was du finden kannst

Bleibe 2 Tage bei dem verwahrlosten Sim

Bau einen Garten an (du darfst alles was du sammelst und anbaust natürlich verkaufen)

Such dir ein neues Haus & eine neue Familie (wie zuvor als Kleinkind)

Werde wieder von einer Familie aufgenommen, wenn du mit allen geredet hast

Schreib dir auf, wieviel Geld zu besitzt, bevor du aufgenommen wirst

Lerne so viele Skills wie es geht

Hilf ganz viel im Haushalt mit

Sammle alles was du findest

Bau dir einen Freundeskreis auf, du verliebst dich in jemanden. Du musst die Person aber zurücklassen, sobald du ein Teenager wirst

Werde zum Teenager, klau der Familie 1000 Simoleons und verschwinde

Ändere dein Aussehen komplett

‼️Zähle das Geld das du davor hattest zu den 1000 Simoleons dazu, das heißt, wenn du als Kind 130 Simoleons hattest, verlässt du das Haus jetzt mit 1130 Simoleons ‼️

➡️ Leben als Teenager (wieder auf Start Grundstück):

Verwahrloster Sim ist weitergezogen (auf anderes Grundstück verschieben)

Geh nicht mehr zu Schule

Bau deinen Unterschlupf weiter aus, mit WC aber immer noch keine Dusche!

Dinge sammeln, anbauen etc.

Du triffst einen jungen, attraktiven Mann mit viel Geld

Verbringe eine Nacht mit ihm, klau ihm 2000 Simoleons und werde ungeplant schwanger

‼️Geld Cheat: mit STRG + Shift + C-Taste Cheatkonsole öffnen und den Betrag mit „money“ eingeben. Beispiel: wenn du 1130 Simleons hattest gibst du ein: money 3130 (weil 1130 + die 2000 die du gerade gestohlen hast)

💚 Spiele so weiter, wenn du Mods benutzt:

Verbringe die Schwangerschaft nur in deinem Unterschlupf (keine Reisen mehr)

Sobald das Kind auf der Welt ist, suche mit deinem Kind eine weitere Familie und tu so, als wäre dein Kind deine Schwester/Bruder. Erfinde eine dramatische Geschichte, warum ihr Hilfe braucht (z.B. Eltern gestorben, böse Stiefmutter, gewalttätige Eltern etc.)

Werde in der Familie aufgenommen und zieh dein Kind in dem Haus groß

Schreib dir davor aber wieder auf, wieviel Geld du hast

Sobald du zur jungen Erwachsenen wirst, verschwinde mit deinem Kind, klau der Familie 1000 Simoleons und verändere euer Aussehen komplett!

Bau deinen Unterschlupf für dich und dein Kind aus, such dir einen Job und versuch dein Leben in den Griff zu bekommen.

💙 Spiele so weiter, wenn du keine Mods benutzt:

Öffne die Cheat Konsole mit STRG + Shift + C-Taste und gib: „testingcheats true“ ein (ohne „“) und drücke enter

Gib in der Cheat Konsole „cas.fulleditmode“ ein

Klicke mit gedrückter Shift-Taste auf deinen Starter Sim und öffne „Erstelle einen Sim“

Füge ein Kleinkind hinzu

Suche mit deinem Kind eine weitere Familie und tu so, als wäre dein Kind deine Schwester/Bruder und erfinde eine dramatische Geschichte, warum ihr Hilfe braucht (z.B. Eltern gestorben, böse Stiefmutter, gewalttätige Eltern etc.)

Werde in der Familie aufgenommen und zieh dein Kind in dem Haus groß

Schreib dir davor aber wieder auf wieviel Geld du hast

Sobald du zur jungen Erwachsenen wirst, verschwinde mit deinem Kind, klau der Familie 5000 Simoleons und verändere euer Aussehen komplett!

Bau deinen Unterschlupf für dich und dein Kind aus, such dir einen Job und versuch dein Leben in den Griff zu bekommen.

Viel Spaß bei der Challenge!

where the girls run

Series: flowers

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Summary: With her twin missing in the Henbane, the second Junior Deputy steps foot back in Faith’s domain.

---------

Warnings: mentioned past child abuse & sexual assault & harassment, nongraphic violence, canon character death, one use of the c word

Other notes: not entirely sure on Faith's voice here tbh lmao 8);;;;; concrit would be welcomed in that area mostly

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Jemima remembers nothing of prayers, only the fear she used to feel when the old man used to rant and rave and the old man’s wife would only sit with indifference (or fear, she doesn’t know, and doesn’t care, anyway). Mom and Dad are agnostic, and raised her and Jason that way, instilling a sense of polite scepticism; at the very least, they were polite with Jerome and Joseph equally -- before they’d left to see Mom’s sister in Indiana for the week. Thinking of them now, as she steps a booted foot into the Henbane River, she hopes they’re still there, and didn’t return early to this hellhole.

The sickly-sweet stench of the Bliss irritates her nose. She sneezes, and does her best to wipe her nose, keeping her eyes beady. Hallucinations are likely, which she knows well, Solomon’s image outlined with hazy and glittering green imprinted on her brain for the foreseeable future, as long as her memory never starts to deteriorate. A baby’s cry hurts worse, of course.

She knows that Jason came here not long after returning from the Mountains, blood having formed patterns on his shirt. The Resistance had trusted him to take care of Faith, after having dispatched the Whitetail region of Jacob (despite the deaths of several Whitetail Militia, and especially their leader, Eli Palmer, staining his shirt and his hands just as much), and Jemima had to focus on John, and getting Hudson out of that rathole bunker. Jemima had finished with John (and would’ve taken the Baptist’s head -- for herself, for Mary May, for Nick, for Kim, for Carmina, for Joey, for the entirety of Holland Valley, for her brother, and God, if there is a God, she’d swear by that cunt’s hypothetical existence that she would’ve taken Jacob’s head, too, if Jason hadn’t told her to stay far away from the mountains), and had immediately set off in search of her brother who no-one had heard from in two days. Complete radio silence conjured up nightmares of Jason as an Angel, and more of him shooting himself in the head.

A Bliss bullet hits her in the leg. Natch!

Faith scares her. Joseph does too, in a way, with his hold and influence, a human epicentre of doom and disaster. John -- oh, John enraged her more than she could be scared of him, but she was, and was scared of Jacob although she never met him. The potential of their power (those that were alive) was something that gave her pause, made her think about wanting and wishing to turn back, redo this arrest business, get the National Guard involved, for fuck’s sake -- but one has to be brave, be very brave, to fight evil things. Oh yes, like a knight in shining armour fights a fearsome dragon. Of course, of course, Jemima is that exact kinda knight, isn’t she? Delusions of grandeur! It was a toss-up between PRIDE or WRATH on her chest -- the latter won out. At least later, if she survives long enough, she can turn it into something cool. Easier to minimise these horrible things rather than to face them with real bravery, she finds.

“Hello, Jemima.”

“Hey, Faith. Girl time?” Just two young women hangin’ out in a bunker, ya know.

“Sure! That’s why you came back, right?”

She doesn’t like the way that’s phrased, but then again, Faith scares her the most out of the Seeds. Ah, your would-be sister. She needs to stop thinking like that, in wistful would-bes and coulda-beens, but it’s difficult with the Bliss starting to take a real hold. The after-effects, the way it still lingers after the initial shot.

“I guess.” Playing along, and slurring just a touch. She’d come here for that? Or to kill Faith? And upset Joseph some more? If he even gives a flying shit about Faith, and not just what she means to the Project. But then the same might come into question about his brothers. Her mind’s going to fast to pin these thoughts down and pump them full of that sweet-ass coherence juice, though. Shame. If she weren’t drugged up to the eyeballs, and drowning under it still with every minute passing, she’d probably be able to outline a neat little essay-style thing about it all. Arguments and counter-arguments and all.

Faith seems to be enjoying this, of course, kicking her legs off the desk. Yeah, of course she’s the kinda girl to sit on desks. Jemima would to, if she weren’t tied to a rather sturdy chair (without wheels!) and starting to slouch in it. Does this Bliss shit just jellify your bones? The fuck?

The sister laughs. Faith (or Rachel?) or Jemima or both (all three), it’s not immediately clear, but Jemima is smiling because she heard it and it sounded good. “Did I say that out loud?” she asks.

“Yes, you did. And you should know already,” Faith says, slipping off the desk and booping Jemima on the nose, which is kinda annoying because now it feels like she has to rub it but she can’t because she’s tied up and wow! that's annoying! But Faith keeps talking, like her brothers: “It doesn’t turn your bones to jelly, but it can do that to your mind if there’s too much.” Angels. Ah. For a moment, she’d forgotten about the real horror of what can happen, having been lost in a good ol’ laugh with Funny Faith.

“Oh yeah,” she says quietly, then asks, suddenly panicking as a spark of memory stabs through green fog: “Where’s Jason? And Sheriff Whitehorse?”

And now Faith looks disappointed. It makes Jemima want to shrink into a ball. Reminding Faith about Whitehorse brings up what he’d said before, and what everyone else had regurgitated before him: that Faith was a liar and a manipulator and nothing she said could be trusted. Tracey, she thinks, is the only person closest to the truth about Faith, but even then, that was more about Rachel Jessop from before. A manipulator and a liar -- Jemima believes that, but it can’t be about everything. Not when she knows about that kinda truth.

Not personally. Or at least, not close enough to count it as such. Or is it? If it were anyone else who's heartrate spiked up when someone had presumed enough familiarity or boldness or confidence to not face consequences of any kind, Jemima would argue so. A hand on the hip -- what is that? Just flirting. It’s only ever “just flirting”. It’s the only most-dangerous thing anyone had dared try with her. College: what circle of Hell is that? Jemima counts herself lucky that she could choose, that she chose Solomon. Sweetest Solomon, too good for her, too kind, too understanding, and he would’ve been all that still if she’d chosen the other choice. She might’ve still had him.

“They’re elsewhere.” Short answer, and she worries more about her twin than about her boss (a girl is a liar only, and a girl is dispensable, it’s only trouble not worth getting into, only lies and manipulation and attention-seeking from a little girl with glaring bruises in a nice house and a nice town and a nice fucking county), but Faith’s recovered with a smile that Jemima will pretend she’s not questioning. “I heard you were coming to see me,” her voice is sickly-sweet, the sound translation of the smell of Bliss, “so I made sure they weren’t in the way so we could have our little girl talk in peace. Boys, you know?” Hands clasp on the arms of the wooden chair, and the stench of Bliss is so strong this close-up it makes Jemima’s eyes water, and she turns her face away to avoid looking the other girl (woman, she’s an adult woman now, she’s older than you for fuck’s sake, barely but still) in the eye. “They take up your time, they waste your time, they want to make your time all. about. them.”

Is this Faith? She is so angry. It’s not very Faith-like to be angry, is it? Not so viscerally.

“They do,” Jemima agrees, finally meeting Faith’s eye again, knowing and remembering several who fit the bill from school and college. Some of the guys at the station, too, come to think of it. Then she blurts out, “I believe you.” It seemed important to say, because Faith knows what everyone else is saying, and has said, and will continue to say about her, from way back then until the day she dies. Faith is not blind nor deaf to this.

It makes Faith lean back, looking more like Rachel might when faced with someone taking her side for once (Tracey did, Tracey tried, you must remember this, you are not unique to knowing Rachel and Faith), before it washes away again under a plaster smile, pearly teeth on display. “I know you do,” sounds like I knew you would, and it sounds like relief, but not quite trust. Forehead-to-forehead, she repeats, “I know you do.” Jemima closes her eyes then, leaning into this physical contact that Faith's allowing, because Faith might need this, something soft even if momentary.

Peace is spoiled by a baby’s crying, and Jemima whips her head away, this way and that, raw panic strangling her as she pulls and rattles at the rope that’s tight around her arms and torso. “Where is she?” she shouts, starting to cry and thrash in her chair.

Faith looks at her with odd fascination, like watching an insect. Then there’s more noise outside -- gunfire -- and Jemima howls because she can’t find her, and then Faith is gone yet again, and Jemima is left with Rhoda’s screeching cries in her ears, and fear for Jason's safety.

                                                                                     ---

Jason couldn’t bring himself to kill again, not even now when he was still wearing the same clothes unwashed. Not even a smart remark would seem to snap him out of his seemingly lasting stupor. It’s the shock, she tells herself. So it’s Jemima who takes to drowning instead. She’s not sure it’s worked, because when she turns to look back at the body, it’s disappeared. She has an hysterical thought: maybe Faith was never real.

She decides it doesn’t matter, since Joseph releases two barrels full of Bliss in front of the church.

thank you for the march flash fiction prompts. i'm not part of the discord but i got into a new show and ship last week, & for the first time in nearly 5 years I've felt like writing again, & the prompts finally got me to start. i'm failing at word count, my 1st was 500 and the next two went over, 2000 and 1000. but considering that 3500 in 2 days is more than the 0 of the last 5 years, & exceeds my total wc from the 4 years before that, it's still a win for me.

That is MANY words (and it’s NOT a fail to write words, no matter how many, especially not if you are having fun) and I am very proud of you! It makes me super happy to know it has helped you out ^_^ Also I hope that your new show and ship bring you MUCH joy!

Commission Info

Pricing:

$5 for 500 words

$10 for 1000 words

$20 for 2000 words (and so on)

Minimum WC: 500. Maximum WC: 5000

Will not write:

Smut/sex of any kind

Extreme/detailed gore

Will write:

Whump

Hurt/comfort

Fluff

Angst/pain

Ships

Will write for:

PJO

Maze Runner

Marvel

OCs, provided I have enough info

Most fandoms, provided I have enough info and/or you are willing to wait a little longer

See my writing here

Rules:

Three slots open at a time. First come, first serve.

DM me here if you'd like a fic. I reserve the right to refuse as I see fit.

Don't spam me asking when it will be done. I will try to be timely (1-3 weeks, 3-6 for longer fics), but I am a busy college student. Please respect that.

Payment:

DM me and we can work out the details!

Let me know if you're interested!

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QUICK NOTE — Thank you for for being here! Please show love to these fics because all of these authors work very hard 😊 And while they're doing it because they love it, seeing feedback is really encouraging!

FANDOM TAGS — Ateez, NCT Dream, Seventeen,

AU TAGS — boyfriend!au, canon setting, character study, cheating!au, college!au, high school!au, paranormal!au, parents!au, royalty!au, space!au, studio ghibli!au

TROPE TAGS — established relationship, friends to lovers, no romance, pre-relationship, strangers to lovers, 

WC TAGS — wc:s (<1000), wc:m (1000-2000), wc:l (>2000), wc:b (bulleted)

BEST FEATURE TAGS — Beautiful prose, spotless composition, brilliant pacing, short and sweet, great characters, punch-me-in-the-gut-lines, hilarious

MEMBER X MEMBER TAGS — ATZ Woosan

INDIVIDUAL IDOL TAGS — ATZ PSH, KHJ, JYH, CS, KYS, JWY, CJH | NCT Dream ML, LDH | SVT KSY, LSM, BSK

MAIN ACCOUNT RECS TAG (only as I move stuff over! ^^)

NOTE TO AUTHORS — I’m aiming to leave more feedback than, “I loved it!” Tbh, I know how much work you put into these fics; hopefully, I can give an ounce back by pointing out things I really liked! I truly appreciate what you do as a reader, and respect you as a writer! // If you would like more constructive criticism, or any notes abt misspellings here or there, I would love to send you a message with those, too! Just send me a message :)

Ha úgy érzed, szar éved volt 2019, olvasd végig, hogy a SoDInak hogyan telt, és jobb kedvre derülsz!

2019.01 Mult karácsonyi hazautazáskor a berlini szauna úgy lefárasztotta, hogy elaludt a vonaton, így lekéste a repülőt. Drága vonat út vezetett újszászra, 2019.01 A blogszférában ismeretlen Meleg Márkkal közös flokkot készített. Az ünnepek alatt a miskolci barlangfürdt látogatták meg, ahol nagy valószínséggel mindkettejük pillantgatott lefelé. "sajnos itt fürdőruhában" 2019.01 "Megvan az új vlog-menetrendem. Gamer vlog kedd reggel. Közéleti vlog csütörtök reggel. A fő vlog visszaköltözik péntek du 4-re." "Szombat vágatlan" 2019.01 A magánéletéről és a devizás haverjáról soha többet nem fog beszélni, de: A devizás haver 60 ezer forintért kiváltotta a nagymamája aranyékszereit (ezért még utoljára küld 250 eurot) 2019.01 Routert fog bérelni, hogy ne kelljen megvenni, és akkor tud majd szakadásmentesen twitchelni, mint a profik. 2019.01 Profi angol és német feliratozást rendel a vekniflokkjaihoz (jövő héten) A forumon Eszter17 néven szólal meg a faszmonológot fordító szerencsétlen. 2019.01 Londonban sörikézett Meleg Márkkal, azonban óránként 3 fidesz megosztás volt. Flokkban csak galambetetés volt jókedvű sodival. 2019.01 A VR-boxolásban úgy elfáradt, hogy kétszer kidőlt, beszélni annyira sem tudott, mint álltalában. 2019.02 A beigért napi 4 flokk és 4 játékteszt nagyrésze elmaradt, ahogy várható volt. 2019.02 Élő játéktesztben egy külföldi nick-et felvevő troll arra kérte, hogy angolul adja a műsort. Parádés makogás ment végig. (SoDI kipróbálja: Jump Force) 2019.02 "Úgy alakulnak az estéim, hogy már fáradt vagyok vlogot vágni." (online masztiparti?) 2019.02 Athénba ment meleg márkkal és más buzikkal. Nagy volt a jókedv. 2019.02 A disznó új flokkjába a perui lima város képét teszi maga mögé háttérnek képmanipulációval. A felmentést várja másodfokon. 2019.02 Magyarázkódó flokk, hogy miért nincs flokk: Elveszi idejét az ötletelés, hogy mi legyen. Nagy valószínséggel Márkék lehúzták, és ez beütött neki. 2019.02 gaming flokk elején nagy durranást igér a Áprilisra. 2019.03 A disznó instagramján Kanadai irodájából tesz ki képeket. A már lefogyott bolgár yeti kommenteli, lájkolja minden posztját. 2019.03 Ezentúl főleg playstationon fog streamelni, de azért vesz egy bika gamer desktopot. "ha már veszek, akkor nyilván nem gyengébb lesz ennél, hanem erősebb, 2000 euros" 2019.03 Az athénos részekben Meleg Márk proli stílusát láthatjuk, és egy alkalommal a sodi vállához dörgöli a nóziját. (2012-ben még arról adott ki közleményt, hogy azonos nemek társaságát nem keresi.) A flokkok alatt Meleg Márk bevédi a sodit. 2019.03 Szabadsága során egy live gaminget közvetített Meleg Márk miskolci hálószobájából éjjel. A mögötte levő CRT TV felett dildó, síkosító, kézkrém és WC papír volt látható a nagyvilág számára, mivel a zöld háttér berlinben maradt. 2019.03 Rövid flokkban Meleg Márkkal halat eszik egy miskolci étteremben 50000 forintért, melyet bevallottan egyedül fizetett ki. Az étterem falán egy álsodi Endi Kiss néven panaszkodik, hogy át lett verve, linkeli a flokkot. Később az igazi sodi helyreigazít. 2019.03 Meleg Márkkal közösen live gamerkedés közben bemutatja a twitchen kommentelő trollokat Márknak. Előszőr veréssel és anyjuk hálószobájában lefényképezésével fenyegeti őket, majd meghívja őket saját csatornájára, mert jól elvan velük. Mivel a forum .org-os domain, kérdezik Márkék, hogy ez valami szervezet? SoDI: Szervezett bűnözés "Érdekérvényesít képességben a tomket a csúcs, de még ő sem talált fogást a trollokon." 2019.03 Stream deck-et vesz. A technikai próba közben közszemlére teszi képernyjét. Pornós könyvjelzők, forum ikon, "nud" könyvtár, melyben férfiak is vannak. A videot törli, de felkerült tanszéki tükörre. 2019.03 "Aroncute" nevű nézővel beszélgetve elmondja: - Hitelkártyáján már minuszban volt. Ezért egy "másik helyről" felvesz még 3000 euro hitelt 3 évig törlesztőre. - Márknak 750 eurot utalt egy közös, titkos projektre. - schrekk lejárt szavatosságú tortával kanapéra döntötte. 2019.03 Márk közös játék közben kezdi felismerni sodi korlátait. 2019.04 Április elsején megigéri, hogy mostantól már tényleg heti 4 flokk és 4 live bénázás lesz. 2019.04 Márk mérgében kilép a játékból, amikor nőnevű trollok belinkelik a buzisra, gecisre retusált képét. 2019.04.04 A disznó azt állítja, hogy menedékjogot kapott Kanadában, miután felfüggesztettre mérsékelik ítéletét. 2019.04.04 Live streamben Márk: Ne a trollokkal foglalkozz, hanem játszál, mert nem fogunk veled többet játszani! Elmondja a buziknak, hogy dokumentáltan nagyon nagy a pitonja, de ez csak egy mellékes körülmény. Márknak azzal magyarázza az adósságát, hogy "évekig Jézuskomplexusa volt". Megint felvillantja desktopját pornós linkekkel. Anyázik, ami márknak nem tetszik. "De minden stream-ben ordítok", erre márk fenyegetőzik. A Consors Finanz látszik az előzmények között. Ez lehet a "másik hely" ahonnan a 3000 eurot veszi fel. Trollnak válaszol, hogy a nud mappában nudista strandos csoport képek vannak, nem pasis képek. Ezután nem jöttek további közös gaming streamek. 2019.04.13 Romániába utazik márkékkal. 2019.04.26 Flokkban csak az anyagi helyzetéről beszél korábbi igérete ellenére. 3500 eurot vett fel, a 3000 után pluszba. Felkészült a nyárra: vízálló fülhallgató, e-book olvasó. A kommentelő aki kitalálja, miért megy a Sodi Budapestre, Paypal-on utal 5000 forint jutalmat. A helyes megfejtő trollt kibannolta. 2019.04.27 Budapestre utazik, hogy megnézze a Bosszúállókat magyar szinkronnal, mert más nyelven nem beszél. 30 ezerért vett egy kis táskát, arra az esetre, ha laptop és "törcsi" nélkül utazik, mert a nagyobb táskájába nem fér kevesebb. 2019.04.29 Wizzair jegyet akart vásárolni, levonták a pénzt, de nem lett jegy. Nagy örjöngést nyomott le a púpfalon. Közben beismerte, hogy ő állja márkék repüljegyeit. 2019.05 Márk berlinbe repült a sodi által vett jegyen, de közös képet nem tett közzé, nem tudni még, hogy sodival találkozott-e. 2019.05 Facebook tiltást vonzott be. Egy darabig nem adott életjelet. 2019.05 Márk autoval látogatott berlin közelébe facebook posztjai szerint. Egyesek szerint ez már a hazamenekítés. 2019.05 Megkegyelmezett a szarmagyar Wizz-air-nek, mégsem teszi tönkre. 2019.05 Flokkigérgető flokk-ot tesz közzé a Barcelonai reptéren. Ide Márknak is vett jegyet. 2019.06.06 Lego live: A londonbuszos legón meglátta a 16+ javasolt életkort ezért vett egy 7+ éveseknek való kisautolegót. 1 óra alatt sem tudta összerakni. Következetesen LIVE 1-nek nevezte, mert tudta elre, hogy sorozat lesz. Úgy néz ki, gyógyszerre vedel. 2019.06.07 Lego LIVE 2: két óra alatt pár lépést haladt előre Márk segítségével. Ezúttal 3 kamera volt, de egyiken sem látszott amit éppen csinál, ezért vesz egy negyediket. Márk ötlete volt, hogy zöld kesztyűt vegyen fel, hogy megkímélje a gyerekeket a pókujjak látványától, igazi troll. Márk ráunt a bénázásra, és elköszönt, de még vetetett egy repüljegyet magának. Bejött a főbérl és a 26 fokos hmérséklet miatt balhézott. 2019.06.15 Szardinából közzétett egy rövid flokkigér flokkot, melyben Márk mellette ült romantikus közelségben. 2019.06 Márk facebook oldalán válaszol haverjának, hogy neki az utazgatás a munkája (nem tagadja, hogy sodilehúzó) 2019.06 Fél napig nem volt letiltva a Facebookról. Flokkigér flokkban magyarázza, hogy a facebook tiltás miatt nincs flokk. Burkoltan utal, hogy a flokkéhes trollokat így fogja büntetni minden tiltásért. 2019.07 Nudista flokk végén trailerezi a második részt, amelyben beszámol egy újabb becsajozásról, aki már nem olcsó szláv lesz. Minden tartozó retard munkát talált, és törleszteni készül. 2019.07 A nemszláv barátnő egy cseh masszőzkurva volt. Két alkalommal verette ki a pitont drezdában. Felárat is fizetett önként, így összesen 430 euro ment, de semmi extra nem volt benne. 2019.07.09 Überkusza live, melyben 6 video látszik egyszerre, egymást eltakarva: néhány szardíniából, néhány pedig legó bénázásról. Zöld kesztyűben átlátszik a háttér. 2019.07 Londoni gyenge flokk végén megköszöni a "rajongóknak" a montázst, melyen márky-t lánynak ábrázolják mellette. 2019.07 Gaming live: Már minusz 23000 euro a vagyona, melyet 3 hitelkártyán, és 3 személyi hitelben tárol. Egy személyi hitellel akarja kiváltani 4 éves futamidvel. Már azzal számol, hogy a retardok nem fizetnek vissza. A miskolci studióba fektetett pénz elúszott, mert márk osztrákba ment dolgozni. Ettől még maradnak barátok, és élnek a közös flokktervek. Leönti magát sörrel, ezzel vége a live-nak. 2019.07 Autos live-ban lábszagkamerát is élesít, melyen előszőr látja a nagyvilág, hogy a lábfeje is deformált, néha buzispiccel. 2019.07 Két órás vekniflokk: Már valószínűsíti, hogy Márk lehúzta. Márk azt igérte, segít olcsobban utazást szervezni, ehelyett minden út kurva drága lett. Márk buzi haverjának erdélyi útját is meghitelezte, mert kardántengelyt kellett cserélni a kocsijában, de ez kintlevőség. Márk berlini hétvégi látogatása 1000 euroba került sodinak. Előzetes az erdélyi flokkból: A két cigó otthagyta az éttermben, mert nem volt jó a pizza. Később "find my phone" funkcióval kereste autojukban hagyott tabletjét, és gyalog ment utánuk. 2019.07 London 2: A hitelezőmanók(bankok) teletömték a közös postaládát hitelreklámmal, mely Shrecknek nem tetszett, ezért lekaparta a nevét a postaládáról. A levelek visszapattantak, ezért a hitelkártyacégek letiltatták sorra minden kártyáját, ezért ideggörcsös telefonálás volt Erdélyben, közben azon izgultak a miskolci buzik, tudják-e még lehúzni, vagy ott lehet hagyni. 2 órán keresztül magyarázta shreknek, hogy kiknek, és miért adott kölcsön, ami a -24000 eurohoz vezet. Még 6000 euro a hitelplafon. Előszőr hall hús-vér embertl olyan okosságot, amit a trolloktól is: blokkolnia kéne az összes retardot, mert nem fognak tejelni. 2019.07.24 Visszatért a forumra, de a sárga nicket nem használja. Semmilyen álsodi nem tud ilyen speciális autifosást. 2019.07 Munkaidben reggeltől estig azon rágódik a forumon, hogy megkapja-e a 25000 euros hitel kiváltó hitelt. Egyes trollok a kitíltását követelik. 2019.08.01 Ráeröltették a sárga nicket, hiába sír: "Nem akarok narancssárga nicket. :( Zsidó vagy." 2019.08 Hetek óta mantrázza a forumon, hogy márk nem húzta le. Munkaidben is megy az auticunami. 2019.08 Megkapta a 25000-es überfütyihitelt. Ezután napi 28 euroból kell gazdálkodnia. De már kiszemelte a Nintendo Switch-et. 2019.08.10 Flokkban beismeri, hogy soha nem volt jogsija, elsodikázta a megszerzést, pedig már előre vettek neki autot, amit csak évek mulva adtak el. 2019.08.10 A márkkal utazgatás, és a studióra küldött pénz összesen 6000 euro eddig. 2019.08 Forum posztja szerint ingyen nyalta a faszát egy kövér. "ha csúnya, legalább szopni tudjon, de nem tudott, ezért csá" 2019.08.20 A főbérlnek 150 eurot fizet, hogy takarítsa ki a szobáját amég Krakkóban flokkol. 2019.08 Flokkban Márk haverja ősrégi mercijével mennek "fürcsibe kétszázzal" A sebességmér csal, talán 170-el mentek. Rendszámát közzétette. 2019.08 Márknak még utoljára utal pénzt, mert ha miskolci uzsorástól kell kérnie, akkor az később elveheti a twitch studió-t. 2019.08.31 Szeptembertől STNII. Még éjfélig nyomott egy auticunamit. 2019.09.06 Buziszaunás flokkban beismeri, hogy netről töltött le rejtett kamerás nudi felvételeket. Csak azért nem csinál maga ilyen felvételeket, mert talál a neten. 2019.09.09 Facebookban fejti ki, hogy a német terrorelhárítás a fidesz TV-ből ismeri a terroristák útvonalát és titkos terveit. 2019.09 A malacz 10 éves kis piros autot vett. Flokkjában elutazik a buzinegyedbe és droidként buzizik le mindenkit. Tolvajkergetőset is játszik de csak lightosan. Erős angol akcentusa lett magyarul. 2019.09.24 Shrekk lehúzta 600 eurora az előszobaszőnyeg miatt. A recskás porszívórobotja ráborította a szobafestéket, majd kimosta és összement. Attól rettegett, hogy Shrekk lecseréli a zárat. Sodi szerint még így is pluszban van, mert ez csak a Nindendo Switch-re félretett pénze volt. Shreck hozzátette, hogy 37 évesen nem Márióval kéne játszani. 2019.09.24 100 euro rezsit kellett ráfizetnie, pedig elvileg a szobabérlés németországban tartalmazza az átalánny rezsit. 2019.09.24 Büszke Márk-ra, aki alapítványi jelleggel telepít napelemeket úgy, hogy zsömlére sincs pénze. Ergó a pénteki raftingolást is sodi állja. 2019.10 - A régóta beharangozott rafting trip-en horgászás volt rafting helyett, pedig előre utalta a rafting jegyet.(de beépítve) - Live videót láthatunk a hulla részeg Márkról. - Azért lehet ilyen részeg, hogy ne kelljen Sodival basznia a közös szálláson. - Sodi borsódi prolinak nevezi Márkot, mire az többször veréssel fenyegeti, amit az autisodi meg sem hall, folytatja a monológot a live-ban. 2019.10 A zártkörű magyar youtube trash csoportban fő téma lett sodi, és ő maga is löki az auticunamit ahogy a forumon szokta. Kifogásolja, hogy miért minden poszt róla szól, pedig ő nem is trash. A snecológia tanszék előadást tart a trash csoportnak a forumon és az FB csoportjukban is. 2019.10 200 euros Logitech Brio webcam-et vesz a Saturnban a beharangozott Lego live-hoz. A tajvani cég egy jobb kamera képével és egy "nénivel" reklámozza a brio kamerát a balekeknek, ezért vette meg a flokkerünk. Sírva ment a kanapéra. Tesztelős live-ban kiderült, semmivel nem jobb, mint a régi Shrekk bejön és lebassza, hogy még mindig világítanak a softboxok, pedig megvan a low light webcam. Sorban megmutatja kütyüjeit. 2019.10 Elköltött többszáz eurot hangulatvilágításra annak ellenére, hogy már előtte kiderült, új kamerája nem is lát sötétben. 2019.10.25 A COD modern warfare-t véletlenül 4K-ban közvetíti a trolloknak úgy, hogy sem a faptopja, sem az ogrétől vett antiq TV nem 4K. Lassú volt, ezért megvette PS4-re. A forumon ezután magyarázták el neki a lassúság okát. Írt egy refund kérelmet kutyában, melyet a forumon is megosztott. 2019.10 Flokkigérő flokkban kitette a következő heti epizódok címeit és dátumait. Január 31: Miskolci twitch studió bemutatása. 2019.10 2400 euros gamer PC-t tervez venni áruhitelre, később 1420 eurora módosítja a tervet. 2019.11 Tavaly Borsódban túrázva márk aggódik, hogy a béna sodi le ne essen a szakadékba, mert ez többmillió forintos veszteség lenne neki. 2019.11 Az akadozó stream miatt 36 percig megállás nélkül káromkodik. Törli a streamet, de van tanszéki tükör. 2019.11 600 euros "keretet" tesz le az Ogrénak miután fogkrémkupakot ejt a lefolyóba. 2019.11 1440 euros előre összerakott gépet rendel az Otto női ruhaboltból. Okosan nem az otthoni összeszerelős de olcsobb szettet választotta. A trollok hamar kivesézték, hogy mit kéne rögtön upgrade-elni benne. 2019.11 Megjött a gamer PC: Geciszerű szépítőmaszkot ken a pofájára, mert a trollok írták, hogy nem szép. Átverés volt, mert a csomagon levő kék helyett csillogó lett a pofája. Az előre összerakott gamer PC-be 20 percig nem tudta bedugni a "220-at", mert a gép hátulja lefelé, a padló felé állt, és az aljába akarta bedugni. Szét is akarta szedni. Nem volt kép, mert dedikált GPU helyett az alaplapi kimenetbe dugta HDMI kábellel az Orion őstévét. Egy balfasz twitchnéző szólt neki fél óra mulva. Pedig már rohant volna a Saturnba monitort venni. A WIN10 beállítással szopott fél órát nyüszítve. Nem tudja mi a telefonszáma, mert soha senkinek nem adta meg. Németül a H-nál és M-nél kereste a magyart. Nem lett meg az Ungarisch, így német windowst használ a sodi. 2019.11.15 Shrekk lekapcsolta az áramot pár percre amég sodi távol volt. Mire a studio okoslámpái felkapcsolódtak. Sodi előre letett a konyhaasztalra 100 eurot az áramdíjkülönbözet fedezeteként. 2019.11.16 Stream-ben moderátor jogot kért Márk, de nem találta a felhasználóját. Kérte, hogy írjon valamit. Erre minden troll beír,hogy "én vagyok márk, és a feleségem is". Megkapja a moderátor jogot, mindenkit kitilt. Angolul beszélő botok lepik el a chat-et, mire sodi angolul kezd hebegni. A nézőszám előri a 250-öt a botokkal együtt. telefonon üzenget Márk élő adásban, hogy a soditrollok miatt kapott fizetésimeghagyást a providenttől és ügyészi idézést Szombaton. Márk megsértődik, nem soderál tovább, sodi egy óráig ismételgeti, hogy miköze neki márk ügyeihez. 2019.11.29 8000 eurot küldött Márk haverjának, hogy kifizesse az alkalmazottait, majd hitelt vegyen fel. (ami csalás) Elvileg ma utalt vissza 5000-et, amit Hétfőn megérkezik, 3000-et küld Decemberben. Azt állítja, soha nem húzták még le őt. Sas tanár úr sem, ő tényleg megadta volna, csak őt húzták le pisztollyal kényszerítve. Úgy jött vissza a mosdóból Anikó elé, hogy le volt hugyozva a nadrága. A twitch-en pillanatra látszott egy pénzügyi Excel. - Confirmed: devizás haver = Hajdú Attila - Zolinak hívják a 8000 euroval tartozó miskolcit. - hitelkártyáit, bankszámláit kiminimumozta. 2019.12.01 A havi 100 eurot fizető magyar munka valójában a Sas tanár úr haverja, Bittner Ferenc nyugdíjából behajtott tartozás. A diákhitel és a nav-hoz bejelentethették a trollok, hogy van végrehajtható jövedelme (Bittnertől) 2019.12.02 Megvette a Just Dance-t és buzitáncot ad elő 200 as nézettséggel. 2019.12 Egy órát idegeskedik azon, hogy a miskolciak összesen 3675 eurot utaltak az 5000 helyett. 2019.12 Megtudtuk, hogy a miskolciak is autistának nevezik, tehát forumos intervencionista IRL trollok. 2019.12 450 eurot utal neki Márk, Sodi pedig 1100-at utal Zolinak. 2019.12 Shrekkel balhézik a szaros WC kefe miatt. Megtudtuk, hogy Shrekk WC papírral ágyaz meg a kulának, hogy tiszta maradjon a kefe. 2019.12.08 Live-ban a drón ölálló életre kelt, sodi jajveszékelve bazmegolt, miközben az fák között majd sodi mellett suhant el. Megszakította a live-ot. Ledarált egy faágat aztán leszállt gellert kapva. 2019.12.08 Youtube-ról eltűnt Just Dance-es live-ja, "mert lehet, hogy copyright-os" 2012.12 Just Dance live közben bepisil, ez látszik, amikor kimegy pisálni. 2019.12.08 Twitchből összevágta a számára legkínosabb, coub-ra való részleteket egy flokkba. Jellegzetes trollnickek és beszólások is feltűnnek. 2019.12 Donétekért feleseket tol Anikóval, 70 dollár is összejön csupa troll nevektől. Szerinte beindult. 2019.12 Reggel magyarország fele indulva rossz hangulatú monológot mond fel arról, hogy Márkék variálnak, majd törli a twitchről. 2019.12.23 Karácsonyra variálást kapott: Nem jött meg az 5600euro. Forumon közölte, hogy januárra teszi át a határidőt. 2019.12 Nyugatiban vonatról átszállás közben Zsery megpróbálja felkérdezni az 50 euro és kamatairól, de csak egy pillanatra tűnik fel a videóban a tömegben. 2019.12 Újszászon drónozott amiért egy troll feljelentette. 2019.12.28 Márkkal közös live-ban Márk elképedt azon, hogy két éve elveszett Sodi apja. Márk végül elmenekült a trollok általi buzizástól. 2019.12.28 Márkkal sétálgatós live után Márk lakehlyét és a twitch istálót a Forgács Antal utcában sejtik a trollok. Márk azonnal soderálja az utca nevét tartalmazó kommentelőket. 2019.12.28 A miskolci twitch istálóba nem lehet bemenni, mert kivették a kaput. 2019.12.31 A trash csoportból kirakták sodit, aki erre lement kutyába szinezett boldozott üzenetekkel az adminoknak. Ők azt követelik a visszaengedésért, hogy a "cickány" Márk álltal kibannolt "nézőket" engedje vissza.

Secondary Care Surgery leader - Pristyn Care grows 5X To open 1000 Surgical Centres in 50 Cities by March ‘22

1.7 million+ patients consulted, now a leader in Secondary Care Surgeries

To facilitate USD 300 million patient financing by FY27

Gurugram, 2021:- Pristyn Care, India’s largest Secondary Care Surgery provider, today announced that it has grown 5 times since January 2021 and aims expansion with 1000+ surgical centres and 50+ cities including doubling the overall employee count by March 2022.

Pristyn Care has emerged as a leading Secondary Care Surgery player in the market in recent times. The company has raised over USD 83 million including USD 53 million in the last round in April 2021, led by Tiger Global and Sequoia among others, and aims to raise the next round at close to USD 100 million.

Commenting on the tremendous growth, Co-Founder Harsimarbir (Harsh) Singh, said “Patient confidence in Pristyn Care has been at an all-time high since the start of the year. Our investment in patient-first processes, onboarding 400+ highly experienced surgeons, expansion to 40 cities & towns, has ensured we are able to serve more patients every year. By March 22, we will reach 1000+ surgical centres and expand to 50+ cities & towns and also double our employee count. Tech being our backbone, 25 percent of the hires will be engineers. Exciting perks and benefits apart from ESOPs are offered to hire the best talent. Our ESOP value has increased 100X since inception and in our last round, we offered a buy-back option for many employees. Future hires will continue to be rewarded above and beyond their salary. More employee-first policies will be announced soon.”

He further added, “Over USD 30 million patient financing has been facilitated since inception and is looking to 10x (USD 300 million) in five years. Getting patients to prioritize their health is our focus and by FY27 we aim to serve 6-8 percent of all the surgery patients in India”

Dr Vaibhav Kapoor, Co-Founder laid out the growth plans till FY27, “In a short time, we have emerged as a leader in Secondary Care Surgeries. We will be the largest Secondary Care Surgery player in the next five years with 2000+ surgical centres and very well-rounded 1500+ experienced surgeons and doctors with an average experience of 15 years and we will operate in 100+ cities & towns. We will continue to invest in the latest medical technology to ensure faster patient recovery. Apart from it, we will build in-house tech to ensure the smoothest surgery experience ever for patients and their families”.

With a 70+ NPS (Net Promoter Score) score, Pristyn Care has differentiated itself by ensuring a 24/7 Personal Care Buddy is allotted to every patient. This coordinator ensures A to Z of surgery - allocating the right doctor to the patient, diagnostics, remote insurance clearance, admission & discharge formalities, patient financing (EMI), and post-surgery doctor consultation - is taken care of. This ensures patients and their family members focus on recovery rather than running around. To encourage preventive healthcare, Pristyn Care is providing free OPD (Doctor Consultation) till December 2021.

Pristyn Care has achieved the title of ‘Centre Of Excellence’ for Laser Piles, Laser Circumcision, Stapler Hemorrhoidectomy, Stapler Circumcision & Cosmetic Laser Gynaecology among others. Supporting the narrative of Indian healthtech, the company has successfully built a network spanning 800+ surgical centers and 400+ experienced surgeons, with an aim to bridge the healthcare accessibility gap in India by offering full-stack surgical healthcare services with patient centricity at the core.

Spotlighted as the top brand advertising on digital in the hospital/clinic category during January to August 2021, Pristyn Care has significantly increased its investment to raise brand awareness. The company recently launched its Surgery Matlab Pristyn Care - TV and Digital Ad campaign with Bollywood actor Hrithik Roshan for the Indian Premier League (IPL) season 2021 and will continue to invest on ICC T20 WC and other channels on TV and digital medium.

About Pristyn Care  

Founded by Harsimarbir (Harsh) Singh, Dr. Vaibhav Kapoor, and Dr. Garima Sawhney in August 2018, Pristyn Care (pristyncare.com) is a leader in Secondary Care Surgeries.

The company has a team of 400+ expert surgeons, performing Surgeries for over 50+ diseases using the latest Advanced Medical technology such as Laser, Laparoscopy, Microdebriders, Lasik, etc. across 800+ Surgical Centres.

It is present in 40 cities and towns viz. Agra, Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Bhopal, Bhubaneswar, Chandigarh, Coimbatore, among others.

Pristyn Care has differentiated itself by ensuring a 24/7 Personal Care Buddy is allotted to every patient. This coordinator ensures A to Z of surgery - allocating the right doctor to patient, diagnostics, remote insurance clearance, admission & discharge formalities, cab pick-up & drop, Free meal for the attendant, Patient Financing (EMI), and Free post-surgery follow-up - is taken care of. This ensures patients & their family members focus on recovery rather than running around.

Q72318T5F Gasket ZJ4110001187038

Q72318T5F Gasket ZJ4110001187038

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276920025 XCMG RP601.01.5-2槽钢 5002693 803164309 XCMG 874-108-7盖板(TZ2T.03.4.1.2) 252103603 XCMG GE22LM22X1.5M22X1.5-M30X2ED接头(删除) 253007874 XCMG 300KN(KJ).12.2-1左门外板 859918235 XCMG YZ20JG.10.3Ⅱ驾驶室线束 08K151 253305337 XCMG LBJ1E.13-2阀罩 860105353 XCMG GB/T982-77组合密封垫圈20 5013383 252116071 XCMG LW188传动轴万向节 705214349 XCMG A1504P液压油防烫伤安全标志(葡萄牙语) 253003528 XCMG 零件图册3YJ21/25(备件) 252100832 XCMG XGT80.09.1-1座圈 954060 276204681 XCMG SDZZ180.1.1.5.1中间挡架一 860101376 XCMG 400K(U).4A-2右前固定架 860116940 XCMG LW180KVIN.21.1.1配重焊接体 859907145 XCMG RP1356.1.1-7折弯板 502002406 281200642 XCMG 扳机 9337858 201306873 XCMG 刀头YT5A220 0Y0091 820101951 XCMG 万能胶(用819943100替代) 705242527 XCMG G146.1126.3.1支座 803411896 XCMG N902-792.8-8撑板 253401890 XCMG 679-92.1.1.3.2压紧支座组件 860153039 XCMG TAGV60.10II.20.6横杆1 OO1210109 400302803 XCMG XL262J.19.3-3右底板 205281 181000119 XCMG 韩国精密手轮，YOUNGCHANG,YC-00000 859970741 XCMG D2000-1111140-179手油泵(备件) 239900454 XCMG YZC12A.8-5管夹 860119984 XCMG 78.001齿尖154-78-31230(TY230)(备件) 840101637 XCMG 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WHAT ARE THE DIFFERENT HITCH CLASS RECEIVERS?

What are the different hitch class receivers?

CLASS I

Class I hitches are weight carrying (WC) hitches rated up to 2000 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 200 lbs.

A Class I hitch usually has a 1-1/4″ square receiver opening.

A higher class drawbar does not increase the towing capacity of the hitch.

Class I hitches usually attach to the bumper, truck pan or vehicle frame.

CLASS II

Class II hitches are weight carrying (WC) hitches rated up to 3500 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 300 lbs.

A Class II hitch usually has a 1-1/4″ square receiver opening.

A higher class drawbar does not increase the towing capacity of the hitch.

Class II hitches usually attach to the bumper or vehicle frame.

CLASS III

Class III hitches are weight carrying (WC) and also are weight distributing (WD) depending on the vehicle and hitch specifications.

Not all Class III hitches are rated to be both. See the specific hitch for that information.

Class III hitches used as weight carrying are rated up to 6000 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 600 lbs.

Class III hitches used for weight distributing are rated up to 10,000 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 1000 lbs.

A Class III hitch usually has a 2″ square receiver opening.

A higher class drawbar does not increase the towing capacity of the hitch. To use this class of hitch for weight distribution requires a weight distribution system.

Class III hitches attach to the vehicle frame only.

CLASS IV

Class IV hitches are weight carrying (WC) and weight distributing (WD) hitches depending on the vehicle and hitch specifications.

Not all Class IV hitches are rated to be both. See the specific hitch for that information.

Class IV hitches used as weight carrying are rated up to 10,000 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 1000 lbs.

Class IV hitches used for weight distributing are rated up to 14,000 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 1400 lbs.

A Class IV hitch usually has a 2″ square receiver opening.

A higher class drawbar does not increase the towing capacity of the hitch. To use this class of hitch for weight distribution requires a weight distribution system.

Class IV hitches attach to the vehicle frame only.

CLASS V

Class V hitches are weight carrying (WC) and weight distributing (WD) hitches depending on the vehicle and hitch specifications.

Class V hitches used as weight carrying are rated up to 12,000 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 1200 lbs.

Class V hitches used for weight distributing are rated up to 17,000 lbs. gross trailer weight (GTW) with a maximum trailer tongue weight (TW) of 1700 lbs.

Your ball mount and hitch ball need to both be rated for Class V to safely tow these weight loads. To use this class of hitch for weight distribution requires a weight distribution system.

A Class V hitch has a 2-1/2″ square receiver opening.

Class V hitches attach to the vehicle frame only.

OTHER RESOURCES FOR HITCH CLASS RECEIVERS

Hitch Class Receiver Sizes FAQ – etrailer.com:

Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkKFTI97j-0

How To Select The Right Hitch Class:

https://www.autoanything.com/towing/how-to-select-the-right-hitch-class.aspx#.W1DKs5ksFfY.facebook