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#i really just have to find something to laugh about in all these legal documents or I'm going to be bored to tears
libertyreads · 7 months
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I've been reading a lot of legal documents lately but this one just made me think of Murderbot.
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saetoru · 2 years
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#TOP OF THE CLASS! — GETO SUGURU.
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「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ geto + virgin killing - your TA is nice, and more importantly, handsome. accidentally sending him nudes makes you realise he's also inexperienced
♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!
♱ pairing ⋮ college TA! geto suguru x student! reader
♱ length ⋮ 5.5k words (she tried okay. she did)
♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, college! au, TA! geto, student! reader, med! student shoko, forging of legal documents (shoko forges you a doctor’s note lol), mentions of drinking + being under the influence, unprofessional relationships, explicit photography (taking + accidentally sending nudes), virgin! + inexperienced! geto, semi-public sex (in a campus office), teasing, humiliation, mentions of male masturbation, handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play, fingering, riding, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation
♱ notes ⋮ here is the first kinktober post i hope you all enjoy and HAPPY OCTOBER ITS MY FAV SEASON
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the first rule of being a college student is having good time management. that should’ve been something you remembered before saving this paper for the last minute—because now you’re beginning to regret overestimating your ability to finish all the research and the required components and hit the word count. and then you have to cite your sources—which is a pain, and the clock isn’t slowing even a little as it ticks away closer and closer to the deadline. 
you’re doomed, finished for the semester before you could’ve even fully begun. you’re counting your moments to failure for a class you absolutely need to graduate. this paper is thirty percent of your grade—how could you have been so careless as to leave it so last minute?
“it’s useless,” you moan woefully into your phone, making shoko snort as you hear her continue to type away on her keyboard. it hits you that if shoko of all people is further along her paper than you—the same shoko that cheats on everything—then you’ve really let yourself go. “i’m never going to finish this on time,” you mutter. 
“i told you to get started earlier,” she says matter of factly, almost with enough i told you so energy in her voice that you’re two seconds from storming over to her apartment and smashing her laptop to bits. but shoko has a point—even if you refuse to acknowledge it since…well, it’s shoko, after all. 
“i’m not on call with you to lecture me,” you grumble, “i’m on call with you to help me find a solution. you think if i offer the TA a blow job, he’ll give me an A?”
shoko snorts, pausing her typing as if she’s actually contemplating the idea. “maybe, honestly. you know he’s our age, and he’s like years ahead of us? probably too busy with school to get any bitches,” she laughs, making you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at your lips no matter how hard you try to fight it. 
“you know what, you might be right,” you chuckle. you almost feel bad for joking at his expense—your TA is nice, he’s young and kind and understanding, he takes time to slowly go over things when people have questions, he answers emails politely and quickly no matter how stupid the reason, he and has sensible rules that aren’t too strict. and, if you’re being honest, he’s rather handsome. “i wouldn’t mind giving him a blow job though,” you hum, “he’s cute.”
“gross,” shoko gags, “geto suguru is not cute.”
“he is too,” you argue, furrowing your brows as you huff, “he’s probably one of the few men i’ve seen who make a man bun work. and i know he’s ripped under that sweater, he has to be. i saw him leave the gym the other day, and his arms were huge.”
“he’s probably just trying to get bitches,” shoko snorts, “i bet he’s a virgin.”
“shut up,” you laugh, and for a moment, your mind wanders to your stupidly handsome TA. 
you shouldn’t be thinking about him this way—fantasizing about anyone who grades your papers is a line you shouldn't really cross, but you can’t help it. your thoughts turn into what hearing his smooth, deep voice would be like if he moaned into your ear, or what his bangs would look like stuck to his sweaty forehead, or what his abs would look like clenching as he cums, or how breathless he’d sound as he whispers your name—
“wait, i just had an idea,” shoko interrupts your thinking with a gasp, making you shake out of your (very dirty) thoughts as you blink.
you clear your throat, trying your best not to sound flustered as you speak. “i’m scared to ask what the idea is—you’re not really known for having good ones,” you say warily. you can practically see her eyes roll without her being there with you—you’ve been friends with shoko long enough to know her like the back of your hand. and if you know her like you think you do, her idea is about to cause you a lot of stress.
“well, looks like i’m never trying to help you again,” she scoffs, “i could’ve written you a doctor’s note with a few of the copies i managed to snatch—but since you don’t want my help—”
“no, wait! you’re a genius,” you gasp happily, grinning wide as shoko huffs through the phone and mutters something faintly similar to ungrateful under her breath, “i could kiss you on the lips right now.”
“no thank you. you suck,” she hisses. you only giggle, relief flooding through your bones that maybe your grade is saved—and all thanks to having a friend who works in a doctor’s office. you silently send the universe your gratitude for having your best friend pursue a career in the medical field—the perks prove to be quite beneficial, it seems. 
“just send me a picture of it and make it seem like i’m too sick to work on the paper, and i’ll tell him i won’t finish in time. a one day extension should be enough.”
“where would you be without me,” she grumbles quietly, “i’ll send it to you in a second. now please let me finish my paper in peace.”
“okay. love you, you’re the best.”
“i hate you.” the line clicks and you giggle, happily celebrating that you most likely have a saved grade and a free night to yourself now that shoko has so kindly offered you a solution. and of course, you’ll take this as a learning curve and appropriately plan to give yourself enough time for the next paper.
it’s not long before your phone dings and shoko’s contact pops up on your screen with, sure enough, a doctor’s note with today’s date and reason for the visit. shoko has even taken the liberty to make you seem contagious—just so you can skip class tomorrow for good measure. beaming, you text a quick thanks bestie <3 in response—too happy to even care that she sends you an emoji flipping you off. 
and it doesn’t take you long to craft the email either, making sure to properly address him with a greeting, adding apologies for the inconvenience—and as the icing on the cake, a promise that it won’t ever happen again in the future. you click the photo to upload the doctor’s note, and without even a second thought, you click send. 
and then within the split second that the email sends, and you realize just which photo you’ve accidentally clicked, your life flashes before your eyes. 
“no,” you mumble, “no no no,” you chant as you quickly open the email you’ve sent, eyes wide and throat dry. 
the photo is not the picture of the doctor’s note shoko sent—instead, it’s the picture right under it in your camera roll. the picture that’s not very suitable for sending your TA. the picture of your tits, just barely covering your nipples with your arm. the picture you took through giggles while changing after getting a little tipsy the night before (you’d felt just a tad bit sexy in your makeup.)
you sit in silent shock as you register that you just sent your TA your nudes—and just to make matters worse, he responds almost instantly, making your heart drop as you stare at his emailed reply with a shaky hand holding up your phone. 
please meet me in my office tomorrow before class so we can discuss the above email. 
suddenly, your worries are a lot more complicated than simply failing a class.
———————————————
you barely slept the night before, if at all, to be completely honest with yourself. the worst-case scenario runs through your head the entire time you toss and turn in bed. geto is probably going to report this, and then you’ll get expelled, and then you’ll never make it with a successful career, and then you’ll never be able to show your face to anyone you know again. 
your feet are as heavy as lead as they drag along the walk to his room, and you contemplate turning back and never showing up to his office, maybe simply even just refusing to ever return to campus at all. maybe you can move countries and start over somewhere else—maybe you can change your name and make a new life for yourself. 
but instead, you take a deep breath and knock on the door, waiting until you hear a soft come in before you enter. geto is seated at the desk, typing away at his laptop before meeting your eyes as you walk in.
“uh…hi,” you start, standing awkwardly by the door.
“hello,” he says, eyeing you slightly before looking back at his screen. if he has any ill feelings about last night, he does a good job of hiding it—you can’t read a single emotion on his face. somehow, that makes things worse. “have a seat,” he gestures at the chair across from him on the other side of the desk, waiting for you to seat yourself nervously in front of him. 
you sit down, watching as he opens his mouth to start—but you begin speaking before he can. “look, i know that email was really inappropriate, and i’m really sorry—it was an accident, i swear! i meant to click on the picture above it, and i didn’t realize—”
“i understand,” he cuts you off as he holds a hand up, offering you a kind smile that makes you tilt your head in confusion, “it’s fine.” fine. fine? he’s…just fine with it? he’s just willing to let you off the hook? “i’m not much older than you,” he chuckles, “i’m not foreign to these things. i’m sure you’re active in…that aspect of your life.”
oh god—why you? why of all people did this have to be you? why is the world so hellbent on making your life miserable in every aspect?
you eye the coiled wires of the phone on his desk, and you contemplate strangling yourself with them before he can say something anymore embarrassing. but, you have to admit—this is far better than being told you’ve been reported to the dean for misconduct.
“i’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you fiddle with your fingers as you avoid his gaze, “i really did mean to send you a doctor’s note. i just didn’t realize i hit the picture under it.”
“like i said, it’s okay,” he reassures. calm. he’s almost too calm about this. too okay with it. almost like…like he didn’t mind at all in the first place.“but i wanted to make sure you’re aware of how fragile photos like that are.”
“huh?” you raise a brow. now, this is not where you expected the conversation to steer. you expected a lecture on how sending an educator your explicit photos is highly unprofessional, that it’s unacceptable and suggests other things—things that are completely against the rules and completely out of question to even consider. 
“i mean, photos like those getting into the wrong hands can lead to really bad predicaments,” geto continues, clearing his throat as he closes his laptop and meets your gaze. he looks you dead in the eye as he speaks his next words, “and i wouldn’t want sensitive content of you circulating around campus.”
“right,” you nod slowly, “it’s not like i send them around, or anything. i was just a bit drunk that night, and i was in my room bored, and my makeup was cute so i was feeling good about myself…and…and…yeah…” you trail off. 
why are you even explaining this to him in such detail? you silently curse yourself in your head, beating yourself up for running your mouth so much. 
“oh, that’s good to know,” he nods, “i’m glad to hear that. no one else has possession of these photos?”
you eye him slowly, “nope,” you confirm. “just you—by accident, of course.”
you’re not sure if you imagine it, or if the situation as a whole is making you overinterpret everything that’s happening—but you’re almost certain you hear his breath hitch a little. he’s no longer looking at you, no longer burning you under his gaze like he was just a minute ago.
“right, by accident,” he repeats. it’s slow, like he’s reminding himself, like he has to speak slowly to process the information. “well, i hope this serves as a lesson for being more careful next time. you don’t want young men to save such pictures of yourself for ulterior motives.”
geto suguru, your teacher’s assistant for intro to literature 1301, seems to be rather invested in your well-being—more than a TA really should be. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost disappointed that you sent him a significantly revealing photo of yourself by accident instead of intentionally. and, if you squint just a little, it almost seems like he doesn’t want anyone else to have the pictures. not because he’s concerned for you—but rather, because he wants to be the only one who’s seen them. 
your thoughts from last night come flooding back, how he’s probably well built under his shirt, how shoko thinks he’s still a virgin, and especially how he probably looks and sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. and geto suguru might think he has you cornered like a cat would a mouse, but what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been the serpent the whole time, fangs ready to sink into him and devour him whole. 
“you know, you seem like you speak from experience,” you can’t help but grin slightly. 
now, logically speaking, this is wrong—this is pushing the kindness he so graciously showed you. by now, you should be fighting back tears as you figure out a way to break the news to everyone you know that you’ve had to receive an expulsion for sending your TA nudes. by now, your life should’ve been at an all time low, so you really shouldn’t be testing your luck. 
but geto has practically seen your tits, so you’re not really sure there’s any point in acting like an angel around him—and he’s so incredibly hot in that button up shirt of his, sleeves rolled halfway up his arm. plus, the thought of him being your inexperienced TA, one who lets you strip him of his innocence as you slowly taint his purity—it excites you a little more than it really should.
he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. this time, yours bore into him through a searing gaze that almost makes him shift uncomfortably. 
“well, like i said, i am around your age, so i know how men’s minds work when it comes to these things—”
“so then tell me,” you raise a brow, smirking slightly as his jaw clenches, “is it because your mind works the same way?”
“now—”
“did you save my tit pics to your phone?” you ask bluntly. he hides the choked cough through a clearing of his throat—bingo, you think. almost instantly, the room shifts to him being nervous under your gaze as you eye him smugly. 
something about sweet, kind, successful geto suguru, young and ambitious with a perfect gpa and a flawless resume, being hot and bothered by your breasts makes you swell with pride—and you think maybe…maybe giving him a blow job might not be such an outlandish thought after all. 
maybe he wants it to be a reality just as badly as you do. 
“w-what are you implying—”
“did they turn you on?” you interrupt, watching as his cheeks heat up a slight flush of pink, “did you wish i’d moved my arm down so you could get the full view?” he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “was that the first nude you’ve ever been sent?”
“i think that’s enough,” he says sternly, but his voice is slightly higher in pitch—which tells you everything you need to know. and you’re enthused. “keep in mind, i could have every intention to notify the dean of these—”
“but suguru,” you pout, rolling his first name off your tongue so sweetly, he can’t help but be hungry for another taste of something so decadent, “if you tattle on me, you’ll never get a chance to actually see my nipples this time,” you giggle, “isn’t that what you want?”
“i—”
“i wonder,” you grin wickedly, “did you act like every other guy our age and jack off to a random girl’s tits?” 
you must hit close to home because he lets out a shaky exhale, jaw tight and fists clenched as his knuckles turn pale. he swallows thickly before finally meeting your eyes, face a deep shade of crimson as you grin at him widely. 
“i…i’m not…immune to things of that nature,” he finally admits, voice strained as your grin widens. almost instantly, you’re standing up, locking the door behind you and making your way over to his side of the desk without hesitation. the cards have been dealt in your hand, all that’s left is to play them—and you’re pleased to say that the game is heavily leaning in your favor. 
“wanna show me?” you ask with a sultry voice, “wanna show me how you fucked your fist last night? i’ll even let you see my nipples this time around,” you murmur as you seat yourself on his lap. 
geto scoots his chair back and makes room for you, breathing heavily as his pants strain with the tent already forming in them. his breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection—and he curses himself for being so pathetic as to let a few words from you let him get riled up like this. but you’re so pretty—always have been. 
you sit in class and chew on the top of your pen, making it hard to avert his attention from your mouth. you tilt your head and furrow your brows so cutely when you’re confused, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he’s teaching. you laugh so sweetly out of glee when you do something correctly, and your voice shoots right through his heart—and sometimes, as ashamed as he is to admit it, straight to his dick too. 
and he’s well aware of how bad of an idea this is, but this is everything he’s ever dreamt about—right here under the palm of his hands. literally. so he grips your hips tightly, bringing you to rub over him through your own pants. the friction makes him throw his head back, moaning quietly as your clothed cunt drags along his length. you chuckle, palms gliding over his chest through his shirt and feeling the firm muscle under your hands. 
“does that feel good?” you ask, making him stifle a whimper as you glide over his nipples through his shirt.
your hands move to unzip his pants—and the best part? he lets you. he sits back and lets you free his aching cock from its confinements, he lets you wrap your fingers around his thick girth and squeeze gently, and he lets you pull the soft, low moans you’ve fantasized of hearing from his lips as you smear his pre cum along his shaft and stroke him slowly. 
“f-fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking into your hand, lips tugging between his teeth as he pants harshly with every squeeze at the base of his cock. and because you really can’t help it, you lean down to kiss along his jaw, making your way to his neck and nibbling at his skin. he groans, whispering your name—it makes your thighs squeeze together as a dull ache forms between your own legs. “feels…feels so good,” he mumbles breathlessly, “so different when you do it.”
you giggle, watching him carefully so as not to miss a single reaction. “oh yeah? you know, shoko said you were probably a virgin,” you purr against his ear, making his hands clutch onto your hips tighter, “you seem to be proving that theory right.”
“d-don’t stop,” he pleads when your hand slows, making his hips thrust sloppily into your fist and try to keep your earlier pace going. but you’re mean—just a tad bit cruel, and you wanna see him ooze with shame. so you squeeze on his cock, stilling the movement and making him rasp as he buries his head into your neck with a whine. 
“are you a virgin, suguru?” you hum, stroking his hair soothingly—but it contradicts the teasing tone of your voice. 
his face burns in your neck, “yes,” he mumbles quietly, like the admission stings. 
“how cute,” you pout, “so no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” he shakes his head slowly into the crook of your neck—but it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s hiding, so you pull his face away despite his initial protesting. “i want to hear it,” you say firmly. 
“fuck—no,” he groans, his face an even deeper shade of red than you thought was possible, “no, no one has ever…you know…”
“sucked your dick?” you grin.
“stop,” he whines. you chuckle quietly before climbing off his lap and sinking down to your knees before him, looking up at his shocked face with a smirk. 
“wanna know something?” you hum, “i’ve thought about sucking your dick.” 
“thinking about you TA like that?” he huffs a chuckle—but whatever semblance of composure he had, he loses as soon as you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his flushed cock, reddened and swollen at the head as beads of pre cum leak from the slit. 
“just like you jack off to your student,” you shoot back, “you want it, suguru? do you want me to make you feel good?”
“god—yes,” he hisses, “get on with it,” he says as he’s throwing you a glare when you snicker up at him from in between his legs. you run your tongue along the tip, humming as you take in the taste of him before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down your throat. 
the reaction is instant—geto slumps back against his chair, gasping as you swallow around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. you loosen your jaw, fucking him with your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein running across the underside of his cock. his hand falls to the top of your head while the other grips the armrest of his chair, skin turning white over his knuckles as he tightens his hold with each time the warmth of your mouth swallows around him. 
“oh—g-god, shit that’s it,” he grunts, hips bucking into your throat as you pick up your pace. “feels fuckin’ amazing—oh, fuck.”
your hand wraps around the base of his member, pumping what won’t fit in your mouth so no part of him is left neglected. and when your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and squeezing gently, he rewards you with a whine, voice lilting off to a high pitched moan as his hips thrust up instinctively. your nose brushes against his pelvis, and with a few more swallows, you feel him twitch in your mouth. 
“fuck, fuck, ‘m c-close,” he pants, chest falling and rising erratically. you look up, watching through teary eyes as spit and pre cum dribble down your chin, taking in the pretty sight of his face flushed and his skin damp, bangs clinging to his forehead just like you imagined them to. “don’t stop—’m gonna cum…gonna…gonna make me cum,” he rasps. 
you moan around him, and the vibrations send him over the edge, hips raising as he groans loudly. hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, seeping past your lips and dripping down your chin as you try your best to swallow what you can. geto sounds better than you expected—voice deep and raspy, but still the same smoothness it always holds even through the cracks as he brokenly calls your name. 
the sound of his voice as he moans your name makes your walls clench around nothing and your clit throb. you let him fuck himself into your mouth through his high, riding out the last waves of his orgasm as pleasure burns through every nerve and every inch of him. when he finally slumps back into his chair, breathing harshly, you pull off of his cock, wiping the mess from your chin on your sleeve. and before you can open your mouth to tease him some more, you’re pulled back onto his lap, his mouth on yours, kissing you deep. 
“this’ll have to be a secret,” he mumbles, “for both of us.” 
for someone who’s never done anything like this before, geto rids you of your clothes almost expertly, lifting your shirt over your arms and sliding your pants off in an instant. he groans when his fingers trace over your clit—which you’re happy to know he can find—and feels the wetness of your slick drooling over the fabric. 
“c’mon, suguru,” you hum, voice edging on a little impatient, “go ahead and touch a pussy for the first time.”
he huffs, yanking the fabric to the side before sinking his ring and middle fingers into you, knuckle deep as this thumb runs circles along your clit. you whine, grinding your hips down on his hand, impatiently waiting for him to move. 
“for someone who’s experienced,” he grins, “you’re awfully impatient.” 
you open your mouth to respond, but as soon as you try to retort, his fingers thrust into you, hitting the sensitive spot of your walls with ease and making you cut yourself off with a moan. he scissors his fingers, stretching you open as your head falls to his shoulder with soft whimpers, feeling him curl his digits deep into you. you whine as your clit hits over his palm, feeling the slow build up of the coil in your belly reach the snapping point.
“keep going,” you encourage, “‘m close, k-keep going—fuck, suguru!” 
“god, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, watching as your head tips back and your mouth parts with a silent sob, watching as you break—all because of him. your walls spasm around his fingers as they bully into you and ride you through your orgasm, and your lips are slightly swollen from biting on them, eyes crinkled as you screw them shut, skin damp and glistening as sweat coats your forehead. 
perfect—you look perfect, and suguru has fantasized about this image in his head for so long, he can hardly believe it’s a reality before him. 
your hands find his long hair, tugging and twisting at the strands that slip between your fingers as the last few waves of your high crash over you. 
the rest is a blur—somewhere through rough and sloppy kisses, through rolled hips and soft groans as you grind against each other, geto has managed to unclasp your bra, letting your tits bounce freely. his hands immediately cup around them, squeezing gently before his lips pull away and his eyes fall to your chest. 
“fuck, they look better in person,” he grunts, rolling his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before pinching them lightly and rolling them between his fingers. you squeal, and your cunt is dripping—smearing your slick along his bare thigh as he teases over the sensitive skin. “feels good?” he mumbles.
“so good—don’t stop,” you moan, making his breath hitch in his throat. grinning, you open your eyes, hazy with lust, meeting his own unfocused gaze, “doing so well, suguru. making me feel so good.”
geto likes praise. you can tell that much alone from his hefty list of accomplishments on his resume. he’s beaming with pride the first day your professor introduces him in class while explaining how capable he is at his young age. he does a good job of staying humble, but you never fail to notice the twinge of excitement in his eyes when he’s praised for his impressive work ethic. 
there’s no exception now either—his eyes search yours for every hint he can find that he’s doing a good job, that he’s doing well and giving you exactly what you want. you swear his cock twitches when you say the word good—and he seems to notice it too because there’s a shaky breath against your neck as he groans. 
“fuck,” he breathes, hands falling to your hips and gripping tightly, desperately, when your hand grabs his throbbing cock, still hard and leaking pre cum from the reddened tip. “want to feel you,” he groans, “please.”
it’s all it takes for you to sink down on him, forehead pressing to his as you both moan against each other’s mouths. he’s big—long and thick, curved at an angle that makes him sink against your sweet spot almost perfectly, almost like he was made for you. it’s a shame he’s your TA, a small part of you almost feels a twinge of disappointment he can’t fully be yours. 
“fuck, suguru,” you gasp, “so big, feels so good.”
he whines, helping lift your hips up and guide you down on his cock, your hips rolling against his, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling up the small office. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear and figure out what’s going on—but it only thrills you more, making you slam down on him faster. 
“so tight,” he grunts, “g-god, so fucking tight, i can’t—” 
his hands are everywhere, they dig into your hips, glide up to cup your tits, and find the back of your neck to pull you close and meet your lips. he’s panting, sweat making strands of hair cling to his forehead as his skin flushes a deep shade of crimson. his hips buck up into you, meeting you halfway with desperate thrusts, trying to feel you deeper. 
your head is spinning—not just from the way his thick girth splits you open, or from the way his tip slams against your spot so perfectly, but from the way his touch seems to light your skin up with every drag of his fingertips. and then he brings one hand down between your bodies, rubbing his thumb against your clit in harsh circles. 
“are you gonna cum, suguru? cause i am,” you moan, “wanna be good and cum with me? fill me up nice and full?”
“sh-shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. he does want to fill you up—wants to cum deep into you so you’re dripping as you walk out of his office. so that when you sit in class and stare at him as he teaches class, you can’t help but think of the way he was buried to the hilt inside you just hours ago. “yeah…yeah, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, “stuff you full of my cum. want it?”
“wan’ it so bad, suguru,” you whine, “look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it again.” 
and with a few more rolls of your hips, the squelching sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you all but drowned out but your pants, you fall off the edge—geto not far behind. you can feel his cock twitch as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deep into your pussy. it’s a mess, your slick mixed with his seed dripping along your thighs and coating your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care. and you also can’t find it in you to care that you’ll have to leave after this and see him again as you sit through his class. and you certainly don’t have it in you to care that you could both get in serious trouble if anyone realized this was happening.
instead, you cup his cheeks with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch in his throat with a strangled whine, and you kiss him, hard and deep. 
“f-fuck, fuck—ngh, shit,” he gasps, against your mouth in labored pants. it’s never felt like this—cumming into his fist is one thing, but cumming into your tight walls, feeling them squeeze around him in sync with his high is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. he thinks you’ve ruined touching himself for him, thinks he’ll never be able to go back to being fine with just his hand to keep him company when he’s aching between his legs.
after this, geto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to just forget this happened—or about you. his hands don’t stop guiding you onto his cock, hips not ceasing to fuck up into you until you’re both whimpering from sensitivity.
it’s too much—but somehow, it’ll never be enough.
you slump over him when he finally slows down to a stop, bodies a sweaty heap against each other on his chair as his arms wrap around you and his lips find your damp forehead for a soft kiss. you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw in return.
“so,” you wriggle your brows, “can this count as extra credit?” you ask cheekily, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he pulls you tighter against his chest.
“sure. i’ll even give you enough extra credit opportunities to be top of the class,” he grins.
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calummss · 9 months
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Do You Get Déjà Vu | Thomas Shelby
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summary: thomas doesn’t come to pick up his daughter. you decide to take her home only to find a man of a table with a bullet in his chest and a lot of deja vu
pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby
words: 1.6k
a/n: just fluff and comedy tbh… not my usual angst i promise also, this takes place in 1919 because season 1 tommy has my heart. helena is around 9/10 years :)
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How you disliked summer. Sweat pearls dripping simply sitting and breathing. Delicate fabric sticking to you like a bee and its honey. It was simply too hot for a woman to be wearing layers of modest clothing but here you were, sitting in front of your desk; no countertop in sight, too many different documents sprawled across the surface, each waiting on your eyes and conscious to scan it and then evaluate whatever category it fell into.
‘Miss Verys?’ Katie’s voice pulled you out of your slump, yet your heart skipped a beat when you saw her come closer with an arm full of newer papers that acquired your attention.
‘Please tell me you are joking…’
‘I fear not, Miss,’ she pressed her lips together as she placed them onto the right corner, the surface area with less than ten documents. ‘But these are all for the week.’ She smiled.
‘Finally some good fucking news,’ you huffed, ‘Sorry,’ you tilted your head when you realised Katie was taken aback by your choice of words.
‘Also I don’t wish to add more to your plate but Helena is still present. It seems Mr. Shelby has yet to pick her up. Do you want me to stay and wait with her?’
‘Katie you are truly an angel, really, I am so grateful but you are being paid to work on from eight to three, I couldn’t let you do that. Legally and from my heart.’ You curled your lips, fingers rubbing against the sheet of paper you were waiting to flip. ‘Just tell Helena to pack her things and to come to my office. Since I will be busy reading through all of these I might end up staying for quite a while.’
‘Of course. And thank you, Miss Verys, have a good day.’
‘You too.’
Katie left and you were stuck in front of an ocean of paper. If you had known that directing a school was so strenuous you might’ve thought about inaugurating a school twice. But it was a lovely institute. A school for girls with the most brightest and innovative minds, no runner up to men but competition with finest ideas.
Momentarily Helena came through the door and patiently stood at the door frame, her bag in her grip.
‘Hello Helena,’ you smiled at her. ‘Your father is not here yet?’
‘No.’
‘That’s okay, just wait here with me. I have much work and since we’re the only ones here I thought company would be nice, no? Sit,’ you pointed to the chair, Helena still standing at the entrance barely having moved.
Helena hummed in response.
‘So,’ you grabbed one of your quills to start signing documents that needed your signature. ‘What do you like to do when you’re not at school or doing homework? I am pretty sure you like horse riding?’
‘I do.’
‘Something else perhaps?’
‘Recently we bought a family car,’ Helena had sat down in the chair, laying her bag beside her as she relaxed into the seat. ‘When we got it we drove through the countryside…it was so thrilling. The wind on my face felt different to when I am riding. Daddy looked so happy too. I like cars.’
‘My my, what a riveting experience.’ You glanced at her from your work. ‘I remember my first time in a car. Felt exactly like how you described it.’
Helena beamed back you, her bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘My uncle Finn liked the car ride at first too but we had to stop because he got sick,’
‘And did you?’
‘No, I felt great. I love cars.’
‘I too think cars are the greatest innovation since the marvellous idea to roast and ferment cocoa beans to make chocolate.’ You let out a lighthearted laugh, infecting Helena with the same giggle.
‘I like chocolate.’
‘You do?’ Your lips curled. ‘Do you want one? I might have a bit stashed somewhere between all this energy-consuming work,’
‘I’ve only had it twice,’ Helena began another story, ‘It is very expensive and my father says it is bad for your teeth and that you mustn’t eat too much of it. He said that when he was visiting London he met a man outside of the sweet shop who became so round, simply for eating a lot of chocolate.’
‘Well best you have only one piece then,’ you put a piece into your mouth before giving her her piece. ‘This is my favourite. Got it from Cornwall. They make the best sweets.’
Taking the piece you handed her, she started eating it, her eyes in awe.
‘What about your father, Helena?’
‘What about him?’
‘What does he do for work?’ You asked, amusingly raising your eyebrows before taking the second heap of documents before you.
Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t think I can say.’
‘Why not?’
‘Family business…’
‘Family business?’ You looked up, Helena nodding her head in response. ‘I’m just curious that’s all. When you speak of him, you speak endearingly. You seem to have a very good relationship.’
‘We do.’ She ate the last bite, looking around the room. ‘If he wasn’t my father he would be my best friend.’
‘How sweet.’
With an easy lead conversation, time passed quicker than expected. But an hour later and Mr. Shelby still hadn’t come to pick up Helena.
With minutes passing you realised that Mr. Shelby wouldn’t show up anytime soon. It was also way past closing time so you had to start locking up the building. You thought it best to walk Helena home to see if anyone was there and if not you’d take her back to yours so she would have a safe place to stay until anyone got in touch.
‘Hello?’ You knocked against the door, the hard wooden door aching your knuckles as you repeatedly hit against it. ‘This is Miss Verys from Small Heath Institute for Girls. I have your daughter Helena with me as she has not been picked up yet.’ Your breath ricocheted off the door.
Seconds later you could hear the lock turning and were greeted by an older woman, her hair all over the place as her dark eyes burned into yours. Feeling as if she were about to take a jape at you, you quickly jumped back into your sentence. ‘I’m so sorry to intrude but I grew worried when Helena still hadn’t been picked up yet. I hope that all is well.’
Your eyes left her frame, seeing figures surrounding a table where there seemed to be a man laying down upon, quick huffs and puffs echoing from behind.
‘Arthur, shut up and just get this out of me.’
‘Drink this, Tommy. It’ll help with the pain.’
The unravelling scene before you had your full attention, completely forgetting the woman at the door.
‘I—oh no don’t do that!’ You raised your voice, pushing past her, now standing in the living room with three men staring at you. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I was a nurse at the front and seeing you just stick your fingers inside his wound just rang my bells.’
The man on the table had blue eyes that protruded from the dim light within the room, his chest covered in dry and fresh blood, sweat dampening his skin and clothes. You overheard that his name was Thomas Shelby, Helena’s father.
You stepped closer and examined his wound. A bullet wound. Minimal surface damage and easily removed.
‘If someone could get me some bandages, an unopened bottle of alcohol and some tweezers with a bowl of warm water.’
‘I’ll get it.’ Helena walked past you to what seemed to be the kitchen.
‘The cheap one, Hallie,’ the light haired one yelled after her, his toothpick sitting between his lips. ‘If you open that rum from the Caribbean, I swear to you that I won’t give you any more sweets.’
‘You give her sweets?’ Thomas lifted his head.
‘Sometimes.’
‘Mr. Shelby if you could just relax for a short time longer. I will get that bullet out of you as swiftly as possible.’
Further taking in his naked chest you noticed his tattoo. Similar to sun rays just above his right chest. You had seen this tattoo before…
‘Mr. Shelby, can I ask you something?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you perhaps have a scar on your lower back? On your right just above your glutes?’
‘How do you know that?’ He stared up at you, holding your gaze as Helena came back with the supplies you needed.
‘Given it was a back injury you were transported to the tent on your stomach,’ you grabbed the alcohol to clean the wound, a hiss escaping him as you grabbed the tweezers, ready to pull out the metal embedded in his flesh. ‘I was the nurse that treated you. I was covered in ugly drapes and bloods, can’t say you could recognise me,’
Thomas winced as the ends of the tweezers dug around to grab the piece of metal, a small smirk on his lips. ‘You don’t say eh?’
‘I’m sure you’ll be having a déjà vu when I pull it out,’ you grabbed it and pulled it out, a loud growl escaping his lips as air pushed past his lips.
‘Thank you again.’
‘No problem, Mr. Shelby.’ You disposed of the bullet in a dish Arthur held out to you. ‘Next time Helena is not picked up I’ll bring her home and bring my first aid kit with me.’
‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he pulled himself up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. ‘Small Heath is starting you feel like a battlefield,’
‘Then I’ll be your nurse ready to care you to health.’
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m00nsbaby · 9 months
Text
Already over.
Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)
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Part 2. Sleepwalking.
Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.
Word count. 3.4k
Summary.
We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.
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It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.
You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.
Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.
The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.
You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.
It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.
The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.
"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.
"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.
You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.
Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.
Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.
"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.
You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.
The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.
"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.
He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.
You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.
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"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.
"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.
"It's a fraud."
"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.
"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."
Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.
"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."
Ah. That.
That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.
"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.
How much longer could you go on like this?
After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.
"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.
"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.
You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.
The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.
"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.
"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.
"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you, Steven."
"I love you, sweetheart."
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Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.
The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.
Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.
"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.
He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.
The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.
Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.
"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.
"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."
You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.
"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.
"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.
He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.
He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.
You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.
"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.
Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.
You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.
When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.
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"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"
"Huh?"
"You seem distracted today."
"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.
"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.
Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.
"Can we talk?"
"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.
Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.
"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."
Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.
"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.
"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.
"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.
Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.
"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.
You were all he had, and he was all you had.
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Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.
"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.
"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"
"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.
"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.
You gasped.
"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.
There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.
"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.
He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.
Love at first sight.
"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."
You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.
You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.
After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.
"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.
The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.
"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."
"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."
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"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.
"She knows."
Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Ah?"
"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.
"Knows what?"
"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.
Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.
You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.
"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"
"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."
You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.
"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.
"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."
Ouch.
"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.
And maybe, not lose Marc either.
"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.
"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.
He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.
"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.
"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"
A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.
"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."
And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.
His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.
"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?
You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.
This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.
You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.
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sorry, i got tired of happy endings
Part 2. Sleepwalking.
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Note
now there's a Prompt: (miscellaneous Princess quest ending AU where Gregory lives with Vanessa)
Vanessa turns up to work one day with Gregory, only to find a note taped to the front door telling Vanessa she's the one in charge of the pizzaplex now. Gregory starts babbling about all the changes they can make to the pizzaplex, while Vanessa mentally reboots over the fact she is now the one in charge despite having never put her name forward.
This is both silly and wholesome! As per a follow-up request, this ficlet is part of the MVP!Vanessa AU. Also, I’m not a business-y person by any means, so ignore any blatant inaccuracies, lol.
Promotion
Vanessa reread the note a third time, ignoring the way Gregory was laughing so hard he could barely breathe in the background. Beside her, Freddy scanned over the paperwork that had been left with the note. 
“Tell me it’s a joke,” Vanessa begged him. 
“These are legitimate transfer of ownership forms,” he replied apologetically. “All they require is your signature for them to be legally binding. My records are in accordance with this change, suggesting it is not a joke. The recognition software designated you the owner of this particular pizzaplex.” 
Gregory wheezed, nearly toppling over to the floor of the security office. 
“But why me?” Vanessa asked. 
Freddy shrugged helplessly, and she spared a moment to marvel at how different the animatronics were at night. Chica had mentioned once, offhandedly, that some people got freaked out if they acted too alive. That they felt comfortable enough to drop their programmed personalities around her and Gregory… it felt good, welcoming, to be trusted like that.
“So if I don’t sign, these are useless?”
“Can I sign them?” Gregory piped up. “Can I be the boss of the pizzaplex?” 
Vanessa went to shoot back a firm refusal, only to pause. That… now that was an idea. Her brother loved the pizzaplex, loved the animatronics. This building was maybe the first place he had ever truly considered a home. 
She picked up a pen without a word and signed the forms on each line that demanded her name. He groaned theatrically, but even her silent answer wasn’t enough to dampen his mood and stop him from giggling over her predicament. 
“Not yet,” Vanessa said once she finished. “But once you’re an adult… it’s all yours.” 
He paused, mirth battling with confusion. “Really?” he asked after a moment, serious. 
“Really. So, do good in school or whatever so you actually know how to run this place once I give it to you.” Sweeping the documents into a pile, she returned them to the folder they’d been tucked inside. “In fact, you’re officially the unofficial manager or—something. Idea guy. Quality control. Just, tell me what you want to do or change, and we’ll work on that. Like practice.” 
Gregory was quiet for a minute, examining her. Probably looking for a trap or a catch. Freddy was silent, but she’d felt him startle when she made the offer. A quick glance at him showed eyes just slightly brighter than normal. 
“Deal,” Gregory decided. “We’ll do it together.” 
“Business partners. Until you’re old enough and buy me out for, like, a donut.” 
“Maybe even two donuts,” he said, his amusement returning. 
Vanessa tuned him out as he started rambling about rock climbing walls and bungee trampolines and how cool it would be if there was an outdoor area, especially with the great big open field behind the pizzaplex literally just sitting there doing nothing. She turned instead to Freddy. 
“Any objections?” she asked quietly. 
His eyes flicked from her to Gregory, who had migrated to the office chair and was spinning around in circles and talking up at the ceiling. 
“Not at all,” he answered softly. “And I am certain the others will feel the same as I do.” 
“And how do you feel?”
He looked back at her, and it was at times like these that Vanessa was suddenly reminded that for all of Freddy’s sweet, teddy bear personality, he wasn’t an idiot. He was the leader of the band—of all the animatronics, if you knew them as well as she did—and while it was thanks to the luck of the draw, he lived up to the role he’d been assigned. 
“It will be a… welcome change, to be owned by someone who does not look at us and see only ‘dumb robots.’” 
“I bet.” She blew out a heavy breath. Turning around so Gregory would hear, she announced, “I think my first order of business is to give the hardworking night guard the day off.” 
Freddy chuckled, and Gregory’s sneakers-turned-brakes squeaked as he stopped the chair. He grinned. 
“Nap time for the night guard?” he asked. 
“Such a poor, overworked college student who’s frequently tossed into the path of rampaging murderous animatronics deserves a break,” she agreed. “And that means a nap. My second order of business will be to actually try and figure out the rampaging murderous animatronic issue, because I’m not convinced the higher ups were actually putting effort into that.” 
Freddy’s hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed gently, gratefully. “And you, superstar?” he asked. “What will be your first order of business?” 
Vanessa expected to be bombarded with pleas for Dippin’ Dots stands or better arcade prizes or a rollercoaster. 
Instead, Gregory popped to his feet, beaming as he bounced over to them. “I think it’s high time we got Bonnie fixed up and back on stage.” 
She heard the hitch in Freddy’s chest behind her, the stutter of his mechanical heart. His grip spasmed and tightened again, briefly, like he hadn’t meant to.
“Y’know what,” Vanessa said, feeling stupidly proud of her little brother, “first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll call the technicians and see what we can do.” 
“Yes!” Gregory fist-pumped. “C’mon, Freddy, we need to make sure his room looks okay for when he comes back!” He took Freddy’s hand and tugged, and Freddy followed after him without protest. “Do you think he’d like it if we got people to make get-well cards for him so he knows how much he was missed?”
Vanessa shook her head as they left, ready to track down a couch for herself. She needed some peace and quiet to process her… promotion. 
“Hell of a promotion,” she grumbled to herself, undoing her tie. New dress code rule, effective immediately: night guards could wear whatever they wanted. And would get a raise. And a new crowbar on the company’s dime. 
All right, so maybe she could get used to this.
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jule1122 · 2 years
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Malex Fic - All I Want is You
How much fluff can I shove into 1100 words?  The answer is a lot.  I am over the moon about Alex Guerin being canon, and wanted to write something about that.  Michael also has a lot of feelings about being married so this fic is nothing but them continuing to be madly in love.
All I Want is You on AO3
Title from U2's "All I Want is You" because that song fits their marriage perfectly. 
Summary: When they get back from their honeymoon, Michael has a husband and Alex has a new name.  Neither of those things will ever change. 
“Hi honey, I’m home,” Michael yells as he opens the door.
“In here,”  Alex answers back.
Michael follows the sound of his voice and finds his husband at the table, laptop open, working his way through a stack of papers.
“I thought you weren’t back at Deep Sky until Monday?”  Michael asks with a slight frown.  They returned from their honeymoon a few days ago, but both had cleared their schedules for the rest of the week.  Michael had spent the afternoon catching up with Isobel, but otherwise neither of them had left the house.
“Oh, this isn’t work,” Alex reassures him.  He gestures to the papers next to the computer, “Just getting started on the name change.  I’ve got Social Security, VA, MVD, the bank, the mortgage company, utilities, passport.  Once that’s all done I can update my will and other legal documents.”
Just listening to Alex list all the forms overwhelms Michael.  “Can’t you just hack into something and have it all done at once?  Or get someone at Deep Sky to handle it?”
“I could,” Alex says with a laugh and a shrug, “but I want to do it this way.”
“Why?” Michael asks as he sits in the chair next to Alex.
“I don’t want it to just happen.  I want someone to read this form and know my name is changing because I want it to, that this is a choice.  I want them to look at our marriage license and think ‘he must really love his husband a lot if he wants to share his name.’ I want everyone who has to change my name to know how lucky I am.”
Michael leans back in his chair and lets out a breath.  Sometimes he still can’t believe all this is real, then Alex says something like that, and it hits him all over again.  He’s quiet long enough that Alex starts to look uncomfortable.
“I know it doesn’t really matter,” he starts.
“No,” Michael takes his hand, rubbing his thumb along Alex’s ring.  “I get it.”  And he does.  It’s the same reason he can’t stop calling Alex his husband.  He’s said it so much, Isobel had hung up on him twice.  But he can’t imagine not saying it, not telling every person he talks to that he has a husband, not taking every chance he can to remember that they finally got here.  If Alex needs fifty bureaucrats to look at their marriage license, Michael will help him stuff the envelopes.
“Maybe you should send a picture too,” he teases.  “Make sure they know exactly how lucky we both are.”
“I don’t think we need to go that far,” Alex squeezes his hand before pulling away and picking up his pen.
Michael gets up and stands behind him, watching as he finishes the form to update his driver’s license.  He sets it aside and reaches for another stack of papers, but Michael can’t stop staring at “Alexander Manes” written in Alex’s neat, block handwriting.  He looks at the bottom of the page, and Alex’s new signature.  There’s a scrawled “A” followed by a scribble that leads into a large, fancy printed “G.”  The rest of “Guerin” is written in a slanted hybrid of cursive and print, each letter easy to recognize.  Michael traces it with his eyes and wonders what it will look like in a year, five years then fifty.  He wonders when it will be second nature for Alex to sign with “Guerin,” when he won’t have to think about it.
“Hey, can you grab the stapler for me?” Alex asks without looking up from where he’s adding a copy of their marriage license to the MVD form.
“Sure,” Michael clears his throat and heads to Alex’s desk.  As he walks away, he sees Alex turn to look at him, a soft smile on his face.  He looks back because he’ll always look back to Alex.  It’s hard to believe there was a time he looked at Alex and saw nothing but pain and regret for the life they didn’t have.  Now he looks at Alex and sees forever stretching out in front of them.
When he brings back the stapler, Alex takes it with a distracted, “Thanks, babe.”
Michael kisses the top of his head and goes to start dinner, leaving Alex to finish his stack of paperwork.  He sneaks glances at Alex as he cooks, smiling at his complete concentration at the task in front of him.  He probably won’t even notice Michael’s started dinner until Michael puts a plate in front of him.
But Alex surprises him by coming into the kitchen just as Michael turns the heat on the sauce down to simmer.
“Smells good,” Alex compliments him as he passes Michael on the way to the cupboard.  “Paperwork’s all done so I’ll set the table while you finish up.”
When Alex reaches up to get the plates, Michael wraps his arms around his waist.  “No hurry,” he stops Alex before he opens the cabinet door.  “We have time.”
“Oh, do we?”  Alex turns in his arms, smiling into Michael’s kiss.
“Mhmm,” Michael confirms, without breaking the kiss. He presses Alex up against the counter, kisses him soft and slow because they do have time.
He can’t help but wonder if it will always feel like this, like there’s nothing in the world but this. Maybe one day his breath won’t catch when he sees the wedding pictures Isobel framed and placed on their mantel and dresser while they were on their honeymoon.  Maybe one day he won’t find Alex staring at the shadow box Maria made them, filled with the boutonnieres, his mother’s handkerchief, Mimi’s bracelet and the original wedding invitation Rosa drew for them. 
Alex shifts in his arms, trailing kisses along Michael’s jaw and down his neck.  Michael spares a quick thought to turn the stove off completely and slides his hands down to rest on Alex’s ass, giving it a quick squeeze. Laughing when Alex nips his collarbone in return.
Maybe one day all of this will feel ordinary.  They won’t take the time to linger in memories of their wedding day or take the extra time to make sure everyone knows they have a husband and name chosen for love. Maybe one day he won’t fall asleep silently humming the song Alex wrote for them and his last kiss of the day won’t be Alex’s lips against his wedding ring.
Michael doesn’t think that day will ever come because he intends to spend every day just like this one.  Interrupting dinner to kiss his husband in the kitchen and loving Alex with everything that he has.
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the-andromeda-effect · 7 months
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5
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Adira’s cheeks flamed bright pink at his flattery, especially because the look in his eye said that he meant it.  When was the last time Mircea had complimented her?  Kissed her hand?  Cheek?  ANYWHERE?  It had been so long since there had been one singular drop of affection from him that she could not remember.  It caused a lump in her throat that was hard to swallow around.  “You are too sweet, Caliban.”  Her eyes dropped for just a beat as she smiled before looking back up at him.
Theron wondered what exactly had happened at the house Adira had been held at and in the car to bring about this little scene that he was witnessing.  That Caliban hadn’t killed her after finding out that she had been abused had intrigued him, but this was something more.  It was nice to see his old friend relaxed and he could swear those were honest smiles.  Maybe making that joke was a better idea than he thought. Only the night would tell as it went on.
"So, Mr. and Mrs. Andros," Theron wore a shit eating grin, "I will assume a prenuptial is not needed.   I will have all legal identification here in two days.  Wedding was a week ago, before the late Mrs. Kalavati was kidnapped.   You really should take her on a proper honeymoon, Caliban.  All work and no play makes the compound get testy." He was having way too much fun with this now.  It was rare that he was there on anything but heavy business, so it would be enjoyed while it could be.
"Theron, you're ruining all my surprises." Caliban said with a wink in his direction. Once his friend had mentioned taking a honeymoon, Caliban thought it would be the perfect time to actually get to know Adira away from the mansion where there were prying eyes and ears at times.
"Oh, that isn't necessary." Adira forgot Theron's warning from earlier. "I'm sure that Caliban has a lot of work plus the expense of it. There is no…"
Once more Caliban cut her off with a finger and a smirk.  He had a feeling he might have fun doing that for a while.  She really was rather adorable with pink cheeks.  "I don't know a vacation away from the stress of work to get to know one another after how quickly our relationship progressed might be better than biting one another’s heads off in frustration or my hurting your feelings.  I'll even let you pick the location.  And please, when has money ever been a concern for me?” He scoffed then leaned forward so he could just whisper next to her ear. “It also will give you some time to relax after all you've been through, my dear."  Theron was definitely getting a bonus, this idea might be genius.  As soon as he'd joked about it, the logic had hit Caliban of why a trip away would be perfect.
"Okay, you two are ganging up on me.” She laughed, her eyes lighting up.  “Tropics?"  He had a point, a good one.  If they were going to pretend the part of being a married couple to give her a cover for suddenly appearing in his life and to help her restart her life, actually having some clue who the other person was would definitely help with that. Learning about one another in a beautiful tropical location was just a bonus.
"In that case, I will make sure to have all of your documents back as quickly as possible." Theron replied.  "I said it should only be two days, and I’ll make sure it is no more than that. Then the happy couple should be able to take off to whatever wonderful location you will be enjoying.  If you need me to fill out any paperwork to make it happen, do not hesitate, Caliban.  I do not want to be the one to hold you up from enjoying away time with your lovely bride." He looked over to Amira and winked, he already adored her.  
Adira looked at Caliban, feeling a little uncertain. It all seemed to have been happening so fast since this morning, but she was glad to be out of the basement. There was something about the way that Caliban was interacting with Theron that told her that she was far safer with these two men than she had been before, possibly even dating back to when she got married to Mircea.  He was offering her a job, he was offering a new name, and he was offering her a start in life. If part of that life was having to pretend to be married to him for a while until they could figure something else out, that seemed like a small trade.
Once the teasing over the honeymoon had ended, the three of them got down to talking about what her role in the company would be, and how she would work with Theron. It would be a lot with him that she would be working. That they got along with great ease did make Caliban feel very relaxed. While he got along with Theron well, not everybody took the lawyer's sense of humor the way he did.
After the trip, she would work in Caliban's office, and Theron would visit as needed for contracts and to accompany her to any negotiation meetings. Until they were sure that she would save from her ex-husband's reach, she would go nowhere alone or be unaccompanied even within their offices. There was very tight security within the offices for their company and even within the mansion, neither of the men were so naive as to believe that they did not have those who might be giving information to people who had competing interests.
Hours passed as they discussed the different details of things that would take place.  Caliban started to notice a slowing in Adira’s responses, and watched.  It had been a while since food had been delivered to her.  Picking up his phone he texted the head of the house staff to ask for dinner to be prepared for the three of them and also for tea to be brought for Adira.  The doctor had said no coffee for a few days, but that tea and water would be good for her.  They may not be actually be married, but that did not mean that Caliban was not concerned for the woman he had just taken into his care.
A few short minutes later, the tea was delivered, much to Adira’s surprise.  She looked over at Caliban, who gave her a warm smile and nodded, causing a bright pink to flush her cheeks once more.  Theron watched the interaction with amusement.  His old friend was not even aware of his own actions, he didn’t think.  Only time would tell.
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shadowmaat · 3 months
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A llama for drama
I've been thinking about why I tend to get really interested in drama/scandals that have nothing at all to do with me.
Part of it is, of course, escapism. The world is so full of horrors right now that being able to focus on something less dire but still fully dramatic is, I guess, a bit of a relief. "Haha, the world is on fire, but this tiktokker is trying to sue people for hurting her feelings!"
I think another part of it is just that controversies sometimes provide a fascinating glimpse into the lives of other people and how organizations operate. I'll never have a book eligible for a Hugo, but reading about the wild amounts of incompetence and failures at the most basic levels from the award admins highlights some pretty serious issues with the way they operate.
It can also be a little reassuring. My life is nowhere near what I hoped it'd be, but at least I can say that I never tried to discredit a professional safety engineer by implying he was a pervert for having examples of his work in his home. I never submitted official documentation full of personal insults, speculation, and irrelevant material. And I never ridiculed anyone or accused them of not understanding "basic English" just because they wanted clarification from me about a questionable judgement I made.
That said, the "larger" effects can be interesting, too. The Hugo Awards have been rife with controversy for years and have made some pretty idiotic choices (Raytheon as a sponsor? Really?), but the Chengdu situation is calling into question the very validity of the selection process. The deeper you dig into how the thing is organized, the more WTF you find. Will this be what finally breaks the Hugos in half and sinks their ship? Probably not, but I know a lot of people who will no longer take them seriously. Not without a lot of overhaul and some honest Q&A.
The Lauren the Mortician thing is more of a gift that keeps on giving. LOL! One aspect is the weaponization of frivolous copyright claims. That's a known and ongoing problem in the modern world, but it's clear this is something Lauren does whenever anyone criticizes her, but now it's very likely to backfire on her because she's decided to bring her grievances to the attention of the court.
Another aspect is how she and her lawyer SWATted one of the people she's trying to sue. That is every bit as horrifying as you think it is. I think they thought they could fly it under the radar except their victim paid to have the transcripts made available, so the malice is pretty clear.
Then there's the lawyer. I assume that she does, in fact, hold an actual degree that allows her to practice law, but boy howdy does it strip away the idea that you need to be smart to be a lawyer. She tries to use "The Law" as a shield, but it's clear she has no idea how the laws she's trying to weaponize actually work. A judge actually had to explain it to her. She also doesn't use a spellcheck on legally submitted documents, makes vague accusations rather than providing concrete examples, and writes Cease & Desist letters so massively unprofessional (and badly spelled) that other lawyers are left clutching their heads and laughing in horror.
And, well, I could go on and on about every piece of trash in this particular dumpster fire, but we'd be here all day and I have better things to do. lol! Grab some popcorn and look it up yourself. For legal analysis I recommend Runcle of the Bailey, a Canadian lawyer who's been following this out of morbid fascination (thanks for pointing me to him, bluemaskedkarma).
Oddly enough the "Emmy snub" drama that's cropped up isn't as interesting to me. Probably because, unlike the Hugos, which at least had a smidge of respectability, the Emmies are more widely known to be corrupt and meaningless.
Anyway, I have a feeling we're never going to get any real answers from the Hugo admins, so unless someone actually speaks up and admits to wrongdoing I think they're just gonna try and wait this one out and plan for the next big shindig.
Lauren's case is still evolving. If no one talks any sense into her (if that's even possible) then there's a good chance this will not only go to court, but do so in California, which has anti-SLAPP laws so aggressive there may be nothing left of her when it's over. We can only hope.
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bazzpop · 2 years
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An Angel and Demon’s Guide to Adopting Other Wayward Angels
Also posted to Ao3 here
Adoption is generally seen as a good thing for society. It helps orphaned children find loving new families and gives couples the chance to experience parenthood even if they cannot bare their own young. Sure, the process has its ups and downs but many adoptive parents agree that it is one of the best decisions they’ve made in their short lifetimes.
Those parents, of course, have thought extensively enough about adoption to have gone through with finalizing the legal documents in order to take in a child— Aziraphale and Crowley, have not.
They just show up all on their own, really.
Crowley sniffs the air, another one, he thinks, with a resigned sigh.
This is the fourth time this month that they’ve been bothered by heaven’s attempt at supervision. Not that it’s really a bother anymore, he’s more amused than coiled up to strike now, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys having the constant interruptions. Especially during the last few times when he and Aziraphale had been rather occupied, snogging while he sat on the angel’s desk as said angel held him in place. Crowley smirks at the memory of the last new angel— Damuel… Tamuel… something like that, he really didn’t care, but the look on their face was absolutely priceless.
It’s been a peaceful week so far— he’s taken the angel out for lunches and dinners at both old and new favorites, caused a bit of mischief by selling and trading old CDs that have been left in the Bentley for over a fortnight, picked up a vintage Buddy Holly record from a new shop for his angel, brought a few more of his plants over from his flat, and they’ve had no visitors to ruin their plans for around a week.
“New one, Angel,” Crowley calls over Everyday as it croons from the old gramophone, “should be coming off the zebra crossing in a mo.”
“I’ll put the kettle on,” Aziraphale wiggles excitedly, rising from his desk. He’d been getting a head start on his taxes and could use a break,“It’s a good thing I popped out to the shops earlier!”
“Had to restock your nibble supply so soon?” The demon teases fondly, Aziraphale hums in agreement.
“Anything for you, my dear?”
“Besides you?” Crowley purrs, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh hush, you insatiable serpent!” Aziraphale turns a fetching shade of pink, giggling as he makes his way to the kitchenette. “You know what I meant.”
“Could do with a couple of Jaffa cakes and coffee.”
“Of course, love.”
The angel has made it across the street and is currently fidgeting in front of the bookshop, Crowley knows since he’s been tracking their nervous movements for the past few minutes now, by the time Aziraphale comes back with a tray laden with one of his Wedgwood tea sets, a single sleek black coffee mug, and an impressive assortment of petits fours. The demon steals four of the mini chocolate covered cakes, stacking them like casino tokens, before Aziraphale has the chance to swat his hand away from the pile of treats until the newcomer arrives.
“Taking them a while, innit?”
“I suppose.” Aziraphale hums, handing Crowley his mug, “Do you think they’ll make it to the door before the tea grows cold this time?”
“They’ll come angel,” Crowley answers, adding wistfully, “they always do nowadays.”
He shifts over to make room for Aziraphale, the armchair expanding to accommodate both entities as the angel takes a seat, snuggling up against Crowley’s side, who in turn wraps an arm around the angel’s shoulders. When no comments or complaints are made by the demon, Aziraphale reverts the armchair back to its original size in order to get even closer. Crowley grunts softly as he repositions himself to be more comfortable while wedged between his angel and the arm of the chair.
“Hi, angel.”
“Hello, dear—“
A knock on the window, of all things, get their attention. Finally.
They sit dumbstruck for a second, the shared moment between two beings ruined, before Crowley snorts so hard into a laugh that it must hurt, prompting Aziraphale to laugh full-bellied at the truly ridiculousness of the situation. Heaven must be running out of new and competent angels to send if this is the best they can do at this point.
“The window, really?!” Crowley guffaws, trying to smother it into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Oh, this should be good!”
“Behave, dearest,” Aziraphale swats at him on the arm, trying to get the demon to compose himself, knowing he’ll never stop laughing either if Crowley keeps going.
Crowley relents, but keeps snickering. A quick miracle reheats the tea and refills his coffee— a silent apology of sort— but one that is well worth it a thousand times over with the way Aziraphale beams at him. Each and every single thing Crowley’s ever done in his life to earn that smile has always been worth it, from the easiest things to the most risky. Aziraphale’s happiness is always worth it.
Even if that means adopting every hopeless angel that shows up on their stoop.
“Would you like to do the honors,” the poor armchair creaks in protest as Aziraphale moves to stand, tugging down waistcoat as he goes, “or should I?”
“Nah angel, don’t feel like initiating a possible smiting, you know how well that went last time I answered it first.”
Crowley had only answered the door for one of those naïve surveillance angels only once— and once is probably enough anyway considering how well it had gone. He’d only done it for a lark, not even expecting a fight to break out based on their experience with the previous lot, why would this one be much different? Well, even he admitted that it wasn’t his brightest idea as an unknown, though thankfully low rank, angel panicked after being confronted with their very first demon— and a decently powerful one at that if the rumors were true. The angel, being caught in fight or flight mode, inevitably choose fight, and gracelessly tackled Crowley to the ground— only to have the tables almost instantly turned on them by another higher ranking and seemingly vengeful angel. Crowley permits Aziraphale to do the talking in this situation, opting to remain sprawled out in the doorway like a welcome mat. He’s in the middle of contemplating his own idiocy— why did he even think that could have gone well? Though, granted it could have gone so much worse— when Aziraphale hauls his ass up and over to the couch. The conversation afterwards had been painfully awkward, but they still took that angel under their wings.
Aziraphale hurries over to the door as another knock rattles against the ancient windows.
“Ah! Just a minute!” Aziraphale clears his throat and smooths down his waistcoat again, getting rid of any wrinkles with a thought. He also notices Crowley reach into the inner pocket of his jacket for a pair of sunglasses and slips them on in one smooth motion.
The angel, Sabel, doesn’t even pretend to be human. It’s like Gabriel and the other heavenly twats didn’t even try to explain their mission and what they were supposed to be looking out for down here. Sabel even explains that they went to the wrong bookshop at first, “somewhere called Waterstones! Except there was no water or stones! There was just humans surrounded by books, which I thought was odd, but then I remembered that I was looking for a bookshop!”
Aziraphale and Crowley listen, each highly amused, while the celestial equivalent of a toddler hopped up on sugar recounts everything that’s happened to them from the time they stepped off of heaven’s lift. Aziraphale worries that adding actual sugar to the mix might cause an overload, but is too late as Sabel accepts a cup of tea and a small raspberry thumbprint shortbread. They’re so fond of the sweetness that they add eight more sugar cubes to their already sweetened tea when they find pleasure in the way it melts on their tongue. It’s quite impressive, or so Crowley thinks, that they don’t choke while gulping down more sugar than tea. Aziraphale tries not to let the offense of a long-time tea snob show too much on his face.
Two (retired) Earth agents look on in growing horror, they’ve created a monster in a record breaking eleven and a half minutes. Normally it took a lot more tempting for the angels to even consider partaking in any kind of ‘gross matter’, as they say.
“Thank you for the hospitality!” Sabel beams, adding meekly, “I’m not exactly sure what I should be supervising. I’m afraid I’m very new to this whole business.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay here for a while, until you acclimate to living on Earth, that is.” Aziraphale says, taking another sip of tea.
Crowley barely holds back a long-suffering groan. This is basically heaven’s version of what hell does with that disposal demon, Eric, he remembers distantly. The main difference being that hell just kills them as a form of crowd control and heaven seems to abandon these angels down on earth. Sure, he feels kind of bad for the poor beings, maybe feels a smidge of kinship due to heaven’s abandonment after these angels have been labeled as ‘corrupted’, in this case by experiencing Earth’s simple pleasures, but the responsibility of basically raising these angels for a life on Earth shouldn’t fall on him and Aziraphale. He guesses it’s just the Almighty’s form of a joke punishment and reward all wrapped into one package for averting Armageddon, but as long as Aziraphale’s willing to put up with it— so is he.
“Really?” Sabel’s eyes sparkle with excitement, “You mean I can stay in this place? On Earth? And I can keep enjoying these, what did you call them, bee sticks? I’ve never had a bee stick before, they must not be big up in heaven, but they’re so good!”
“Those are called biscuits, dear, and of course you can stay!” Aziraphale says, absolutely enthused to have found another angel who seems to delight in tasty baked goods like himself, “There’s a room upstairs that you—“
Crowley swiftly cuts him off, “A word with you, angel. In private.”
Aziraphale hesitates for a moment, “Ah yes, of course, my dear, um, we’ll be right back in a moment. You should try the pink lady apple tarts next, let me know what you think!” Aziraphale smiles warmly at the other angel before following the demon. Crowley’s already out of the back room and is holding the bedroom door open— impatient but dear as he waits for Aziraphale to enter first and following after.
“We can’t keep doing this.” Crowley says, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off an impending headache.
“Oh come now, dearest, what’s the harm in one more?” Aziraphale pouts, turning pleading doe eyes towards his beloved demon.
They both know that Aziraphale’s playing dirty.
Crowley scowls, leaning back against the door in what he thinks is an uncaring gesture. He resists for as long as he can, which isn’t very long, before Aziraphale turns up the dial. The bastard even makes his eyes shine with I shed tears and let’s his lip wobble. He knew he never stood a chance against The Look, but at least he didn’t fold like a house of cards as easily this time. Aziraphale, however, smugly thinks otherwise.
“Fine.”
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whorrorgrl · 10 months
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What I Watched in June
So, this month really wasn't horror heavy. I had a lot of shit to do work-wise and when I did have time of leisure they were mostly filled with non-horror content. Currently I'm stuck on American Housewife (2016) and just finished The Bear (2022); even finished Pretty Smart (2021) and still looking for colorful, corny, laugh-track filled sitcoms that'll give me the impression that my life isn't completely dull at the moment. Any recommendations?
I recently watched a PossessedbyHorror video and realized the many 2000's horror I missed. Felt completely disgusted with myself and made a list I plan to whizz through for the month of July. Sadly soap2day got shut down because people still frown on gatekeeping, so I have to find another way to watch my movies. Any recommendations? They have to be legal! *wink, wink.*
Anyway since it's the summer I want to watch as many camp-related, cabin booking, road trip taking movies I can get my hands on while I die in this German heat. I've overlooked a lot of underrated gems, and hopefully I can make a post about the for those who want some inspiration for the summer.
Anyway, this is what I watched in the month of June.
Night Teeth (2023)
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Benny is a college student that moonlights as a chauffeur under his brother's name to make some extra money. He picks up two mysterious women for a night of party-hopping around LA. Seems easy enough. However, he uncovers a dark underworld filled with blood, death, and generations-old rivalry. He has to fight to stay alive before daybreak.
I actually watched this one in May, but I limit my posts to only ten movies and shows since I can only post ten pictures a post, but whatever. June entry.
I'm really glad to see Debby Ryan employed after the god-awful Insatiable (Lauren Gussis, 2018). Something always annoyed me about her that I couldn't put my finger on. It might be that no matter how hard I try, I always see her as that annoying babysitter of that rich family with multiracial kids running around a penthouse with a random lizard. I try to separate the art from the artist, I do. She was pretty good in this movie as the soft-hearted Blaire, a vampire turned in the 70's by Zoe (played by Lucy Fry). Alfie Allen is once again playing some backstabbing asshole, only he goes by Victor this time. The entire movie is politics between humans and vampires when a treaty-like understanding between the races is disrupted. Because of his relation to his brother, Benny is in the middle of it all. I liked the story of vampires and humans - Ryan's narration is perfect for it; she has such a nice voice. The world-building was fine. All the characters are nice. It's a fun movie to watch. Seeing Megan Fox and Sydney Sweeney was a decent treat; it reminds me of all the years we missed to see Fox be the ultimate horror girl so I get a little sad. Fry just has that look of playing some supernatural creature, which is why I guess she's type-casted in movies like Bright (David Ayer, 2017) and Vampire Academy (Mark Waters, 2014). I'd recommend as a drunken, fun watch with some friends. Nothing to write home about. 6/10
2. The Pope's Exorcist (2023)
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Starring 2020 Unhinged's Russell Crowe, The Pope's Exorcist is inspired by the real life Gabriele Armorth, an Italian priest, who partook in 100,000 exorcism in his lifetime. Crowe depicts Armorth in the late 1980's who investigates a possession of a young boy in Spain, revealing centuries old conspiracies hidden by the Vatican.
This isn't a classic, but it feels like one. Some of the imagery are inspired by 1973's The Exorcist. It had a solid story, horrific scenes, and a good-enough child actor to play the possessed. It reminds me of what The Nun (Corin Hardy, 2018) could've been. Considering this Italian priest Armorth is a real living being with endless documentations of his exorcisms, this could be a start of a new Ed and Lorraine-like franchise like The Conjuring. I no longer have cable and I live in Europe for the time being, so I'm not sure how this movie's being received in the states. I hope it's well. If the following movies are as good as this one, then I'll keep it on my radar. I liked Russell Crowe in this movie. I know him from Unhinged and thought he was John Goodman in 10 Cloverfield, but he's not, so..
I'd highly recommend this movie for anyone that wants that Conjuring feel. It's not a throwaway exorcist movie. You can tell the storyline was probably thought of for more than a session between coffee breaks. 8/10.
3. The Birds (1963)
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Directed by Alfred Hitchcock, Melanie, a rich socialist follows Mitch, a lawyer, to his weekend home in Bodega Bay to play a practical joke on him. Things take a bizarre turn when the birds of the area begin to attack the people.
This is an actual classic and one of Hitchcock’s revered works next to Psycho (1960), which I did watch, and Vertigo (1958). It’s also known for its brutality against actress Tippi Hedren, who plays Melanie Daniels, by the director himself. Melanie is a socialite with nothing better to do than to stalk a man she had an encounter with over the weekend to continue a pun. The movie’s theme from the get-go is birds. Melanie meets Mitch in a bird shop where she impersonates a worker. Mitch knows who she is but plays along as she embarrassingly looks for a species of birds she doesn’t know - or any, for that matter. He leaves and she uses her father’s connection in some position to find out where he lives.
Older movies like this do not give a damn about logistics or how much a character gets away with. It’s very manic pixie but with cigarette holders and 50's transition soundtracks. Everyone and their actions feel like a fever dream, like I’m witnessing another dimension interact in ways that are similar to mine but not quite. How do they say and do these things?
But Melanie is charming and beautiful, so maybe that’s why she’s able to run around town being ridiculous. I can see why it’s well loved. Will I watch it again? Probably not. I think I’d need nostalgia to find this rewatchable and I’m three generations too late to the party. It’s good for a one and done just to say you did, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. I loved the banter between Mitch and Melanie. I liked the ending where a traumatized Melanie clutches onto the once abrasive Lydia Brenner who found it hard to like any of her son's love interest. It brings you back to the beginning of the movie when Melanie says, “Doesn’t she know she gets a daughter?” Something like that. Sometimes I wonder what kind of charm, what kind of placement, a man can have to influence one woman to move from the big city to a seaport to be a teacher and have another not rush back home at the first sign of a bird attack. Venusian for sure.
Overall, I give it a good 7/10. Pretty standard for me.
4. iZombie (2015)
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Up and coming cardiologist Olivia "Liv" Moore's life is changed when she's turned into a zombie in a massacre. Now undead, she takes on a job at the morgue to get access to brains, only to find out that she's triggered by the memories of their brains. With this knowledge, she helps Clive Babeneaux, ostracized detective, solve crimes.
I've technically been lying on all these "What I watch..." lists because iZombie should be on them all, including the ones I didn't get to do. Do you know how many times I've rewatched this show? Countless. Every time I do, there's always something new to discover. I am a whore for a good murder of the week/monster of the week, etc. It's exciting and fun, which is why I like Supernatural or Ghost Whisperer. Sure, there's a canonical B plot that happens, but the A plot changing every episode allows you to not get tired of the show. Unlike many shows now-a-days, iZombie doesn't spoon feed you information. It treats its viewers respectfully by not insulting your intelligence. There are always high stakes, the acting is phenomenal, and they don't waste your time. In the later seasons, they become more creative with each episode, dabbling in different types of storytelling. I can't gush about this show enough - I know for a fact I will be making a long, nauseatingly drawn out post on iZombie. Not to mention it has one of the best villain I've watched. They aren't afraid to be ugly, and you don't realize it because it's the kind of show that goes down smoothly. But when you really stop to think about all the topics covered, it's gruesome. The tongue in cheek jokes, the beautifully fleshed out characters, the thick chemistry between the characters - ugh everything.
Almost.
One issue I had with this show was its ending. During its last season, CW had a couple shows that were "big dogs." Legacies, The 100, Jane the Virgin, etc., so iZombie that wasn't ranking in as many views and writers seem to have wanted to wrap it up to clear for space. You could steadily feel the decline in attraction when it came to certain plots that I skip on my countless rewatches. The ending just seemed...there. It was a happy one, sure, but happened off screen and felt like the climax wasn't big enough for the final payoff. It's kind of like building up an entire seven seasons of white walkers and the impending war against them, only for then said war to entail unearned final blows and zero investments when it came to lighting. IYKYK.
I don't know how to better explain it. If you watched it, you know. If you're going to, you'll see. It just felt as if CW was just hurrying up to end the show so that they could free up some time slots. Other than that, 9/10.
5. The Boogeyman (2023)
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Directed by Rob Savage, who also did Dashcam (2021) and Host (2020), The Boogeyman follows the Harper family who are still reeling from the recent death of the mother. Sadie and her younger sister Sawyer are alone in their grief, as their father refuses to acknowledge his own pain. He's a therapist who runs his business out of his home. When an troubled, unscheduled patient shows up, he brings with him something dark and dangerous.
I'm so surprised. This was actually good. I went in blind, no trailer viewing, but the name alone already puts thoughts in your head that this might be one of those throw-away movies running off of a fad. Polaroid (Lars Klevberg, 2019), Slenderman (Sylvain White, 2018), Truth or Dare (Jeff Wadlow, 2018), etc. Movies that weed out of a childhood game, folklore, trend, electronic, etc. They're usually decent, nothing that warrants any awards; just fun to watch. Despite the name, The Boogeyman is more than meets the eye. I liked what they did with the use of lighting: fridges, game plays, Christmas lights, a moon ball, the light in the therapist's office. The 'lore of the creature is okay, the horror elements are nice, the camera angles fun and familiar. It'll always confuse me how therapists run their practice out of their home, especially if they have kids. It's similar to Smile (Parker Finn, 2022) to where the entity feeds on the broken and latches on. The creature reveal was also good too and unique, especially that one face grabbing scene. The hint of ghostly entity was a cute addition. I'd recommend giving it a try. They say boogeyman, like, once so you're still grounded in the world without it feeling so cartoonish. 8/10
6. Terrifier (2016)
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This slasher film was written and directed by Damien Leone. The movie features sisters Tara and Victoria and friend Dawn who are targeted by a serial killing clown known as "Art the Clown" on Halloween night. The girls try to outrun the mysterious clown who seem to not back down.
So, the second movie was a big deal on my dashboard, timeline, and home page across my social medias. I'm not familiar with anything Leone, but I wanted to watch it to see what all the fuss was about before beginning the second movie. Admittedly, I fell asleep halfway through - but I finished it later on. Some scenes seemed familiar, and I wondered if I'd watched it before, but I doubt it. Aside from the acting, it was pretty decent. Not as amazing as I thought it would be but still decent. I'm not sure what that creature is, but I knew he was unbeatable. There's like two more movies after, so I figured as much. The characters were ridiculous in the choices they made, the deaths were camp (which mean it's just a socially acceptable bad) and the setting was okay. That one lady with the "baby" was a conflicting inclusion, but I still overall liked it. Would I rewatch it again? Maybe not. 6/10.
7. Evil Dead Rise (2023)
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Directed by Lee Cronin, this is the fifth installment of the Evil Dead series. Two estranged sisters meet up on a night that all goes wrong. When the children discover a buried book under the slabs of their apartment, it awakens an ancient creature that will wreck havoc on their night.
This was the star of my month. I wanted to watch it the minute it came out, but waited for my boyfriend to visit to start it a month later. I'm not sure why, but this month was very tiring for me and I also slept through half of the movie and had to rewatch it at a later time. The anticipation around it was big, as far as I saw. The opening sequence of the girl rising out of the water in the title sequence was amazing. However....everything else felt lackluster.
The 2013 remake was my introduction to the franchise. I have yet to watch the 1981 or the following movies in '87 and '92. However, the 2013 one was an experience. After going through everything the main character endured in that damn cabin, you, too, just like her, left that movie exhausted. The bathroom scene, the brother scene, the raining blood where everything on that set was red and grimy. That demon did not care what it said; it was going to get a rise out of you. You heard the most vile, deplorable things come out of that girl's mouth and it left a horrific effect on you as a viewer. It was so good. I expected that from 2023's. But they played it so safe. There's this one scene of the eldest daughter chewing on glass and the ridiculous line of "I gotta kill the creepy-crawlies that got inside my tummy."
Okay?
"Open this door like you open your legs, you group slut." A little better, but nothing's topping, "Why don't you come down here, so I can suck your cock, pretty boy."
I just felt like they could've been mean with it. I liked 2013 because of how much of a potty mouth that damn demon was, sent straight from the deepest bowels of hell. This one just didn't do it for me. However, Alyssa Sutherland's cheekbones? That has to earn some points. 7/10
8. Mirrors (2008)
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Starring Kierfer Sutherland, surprisingly Paula Patton and even the late Cameron Boyce, Mirrors is a supernatural horror film about Ben, recently suspended detective, who takes on a job as a nightly security guard overseeing a gutted department store after the recent disappearance of the previous guard.
Is this some underrated gem? No. I liked it though, especially the ending. They scored big points on the ending alone. I'm not a pessimist, but I do love an ending where the entity wins. Spoiler. Paula Patton was a surprising actress for me since I'm not really big on her acting. She was decent in this movie, but still an odd surprise. I don't know, it's just something about her face and her reaction to things.
This deals with an alcoholic main character, so there's a plot of him being an unreliable character when he tries to prove the supernatural happenings to his wife, who he has a rocky relationship with already. This plot line always stresses me out; Woman in the Window (the book) made me sad for her.
Honestly, I'll never understand white people in movies. I'm surprised there aren't riots about stereotypes of white people's idiotic curiosity in movies. Why Ben went into that building in the first place is beyond you or my's understanding. Why he touched that mirror in the first place is another. Most of the issues these characters have in all these movies could be chalked up to their curiosity. Not minding their business. But I'm partially grateful for that curiosity anyhow because it moves the plot forward. Just could never be me. The fact that he convinced Anna to go back to that place just to save a bunch of people she did not know? Bizarre. Granted, she didn't have much choice with a gun to her head, but it pissed me off completely because, dude, who told you to explore a destroyed building and go touching shit?
Would I rewatch this again? Probably not. I honestly just watched it because it was on my boyfriend's external hard drive and we'd just finished Evil Dead Rise. It was decent enough but, eh. 6/10
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starry-hughes · 10 months
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feel free to share the work drama. it is very entertaining
so yesterday i shared how there were rumors started that i’m sleeping with one of the attorneys and my trainer is sleeping with a cop. and there were no whispers today of it but it’s been going around the office. and my trainer and i spent 30 minutes in the nice attorneys office shittalking and he’s like ready to fight everyone about it
anyway so i just did my work la la la all day, asked for help when needed. took my 20 minute break to starbucks and whatnot.
so then i went to lunch and my trainer went home for the day and i come back and start doing work. and i slowly begin to realize that my name is not listed as the legal assistant on these cases and i keep on having to manually change it in the system. it’s showing the other trainee. and that she made that change.
she fucking went in (accidentally allegedly) and changed all the cases in the division and made herself the assistant on monday. so she’s been getting all my important emails that i haven’t been getting for things i was supposed to handle from monday to today. so i just laugh and shake my head in disbelief. and i handle almost 300 cases and she fucking changed all of them and i can’t go hunt down all of these and manually change them. so i literally gave up and was like i can’t do this.
so i was covering the lobby and getting training from another coworker and then my supervisor calls my personal phone. and so i answer and she’s like “i need you find the cases from the other trainee that are going to trial. she never sent something that is really really fucking important.”
I cant find the fucking physical files but luckily i was tied into the email with the names on the files. so i am able to pull it into the system. and then i run to our investigator and she’s on the phone with a deputy i need to speak with. and i am like “hey bestie deputy zach. uh we need you in court next week.” and he’s like “i’m working nights, can you find out what day?” and im like uhhh so then we have to call the bitch attorney and she tells me
so the investigator is discussing things with the deputy, i run back and type up these TWO documents that need to be sent, i’m supposed to be out of the building, my 8 hours are up, i’m rushing this shit, mind you i barely know how to do this. and so i send it, call the office investigator and she’s like “great i’ll get those to deputy.”
and then it’s all taken care of, papers sent, crisis averted. and then the bitch trainee emails back in the chain for the work that i did and thanks the investigator and is like “thanks for helping to handle my stuff!” like she did the fucking work. and i’m like fuck you. and then my supervisor calls me again and she’s like “you seein this shit?!” and i’m like “i’m seeing it.”
and then my supervisor was like “thank you thank you thank you. you can leave early tomorrow since you stayed late.” and the investigator comes to find me and thanks me too.
but it was so fucking pathetic i laughed. and now i’m home and packing go spend the weekend at my grandparents
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lunarsands · 2 years
Text
Flower Husbands Week 2022: Day 1
Prompt: Vows
Setting: 3rd Life SMP
Characters: Scott Smajor, Jimmy Solidarity, GoodTimesWithScar, TangoTek, Grian
Tags: Fluff
 (Also available on Ao3!)
---
“You live with me, that makes us married,” Scott proclaimed blithely as they travelled through the forest.
“Technically I live across from you,” Jimmy pointed out.
“But the whole valley is mine. So, it’s ours. You married into that.”
Jimmy laughed. “Um, so, you just get to decide that? I didn’t have to say any of that ‘for better or for worst’ stuff or even ‘I do’? You say that, and it’s true?”
Scott paused, resting his hand on a tree as he looked back at the blond-haired man. “Do you want to?”
“Do I – what?”
“Say the vows to each other? There isn’t anyone to officiate, obviously, and we haven’t got rings, but we could give each other a piece of gold later when we mine some.”
Jimmy looked to the side, inexplicably nervous all of a sudden. “Is, ah, now the right time? I mean, we could wait until we do have the gold—”
“Are you getting cold feet on me already?” Scott laughed, but somewhere in the pit of his stomach he regretted making the joke in the first place.
“No, I just – ah—”
A third voice, full of all the charm in the world and then some, called out, “Did I hear someone say something about a wedding?”
“Scar—??” they both cried.
“Where did you come from?” Scott asked, then when he was greeted by the sight of red eyes and a grey complexion, he blurted, “Oh my god, you look terrifying.”
“What? Oh, yeah, I had a little accident. Well, a second accident, but I’m fine! Anyway, I overheard that you crazy kids want to get married! That’s so wonderful for you!”
Jimmy slid in hastily, “Oh, we’re already married—”
Meanwhile, Scott talked over him, “How did you even hear that, we weren’t anywhere close yet?”
“Oh, I have spies everywhere around here. We can’t be too careful with how everyone keeps coming for a piece of our desert.” Scar smiled for a brief, silent moment, then cracked under Scott’s frank stare. “Okay, no, I was behind you this whole time. I wanted to talk to you guys, but you were already leaving and you looked like you were headed this way anyway so I just followed you. I can officiate, by the way! I have those powers.”
Jimmy couldn’t hold in a laugh. “You have the blessing of the Minecraft gods? Learn something new about you all the time, Scar.”
“Technically I have the powers of an old wizard, but personally I think that counts. Do you guys want to be married by a wizard-turned-adventurer who happens to be down on his luck right now? I have a special rate for weddings at this very moment.”
Scott raised an eyebrow, barely able to contain a smirk. “How convenient for us. What would that special rate be? Let me guess, it involves diamonds.”
Scar turned a brilliant smile on him. “You’re very good at guessing games! For the bargain deal of only two diamonds – one for each of you – I will perform this service. Normally I would charge six diamonds, but the wedding business is a little slow lately.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Scott commented with amusement. “I think I might have two diamonds somewhere—”
“Wait wait wait,” Jimmy interrupted. He beckoned the cyan-haired man over closer and spoke quietly, “Are we really going to do this? I mean – Scar? Of all people? Can we expect this to be, like, legally binding, or whatever it is?”
Scar loomed behind him, butting in, “I can have Tango draw up a contract if you want! He’s good with that fine print kind of stuff. I’m good with documents, too, but if you want something in particular in writing from me, that could be a conflict of interests, so we should have a third party involved. Plus, we need a signature from a witness!”
“That— That’s not what I meant,” Jimmy stammered.
“Tango’s fine,” Scott agreed, non-plussed by whatever his blond-haired compatriot was concerned about. “I thought you would suggest Grian for that.”
“Well, Grian is my direct associate so that might also count as a conflict. I’ll go find Tango, and you can get your diamonds, and we’ll meet back here! Oh, you might want to include a tip for Tango, he probably charges for those document services, too.”
“How considerate of you to think of that ahead of time.” Scott then nodded. “All right, sounds fair. See you soon!” He turned and started back the way they had come while Scar trounced off in the direction of the Crastle.
“Scott?” Jimmy called after the cyan-haired man, not moving yet. “Scott?”
“Come on, Jimmy. You’ll need to get out your own diamond, since I’ll have to pay Tango.” He kept walking.
“Scott, I – I don’t know if I’m ready to – to…”
“To what? Commit it to writing? Settle down? You already gave me that poppy.”
Forced to follow before he got out of range, Jimmy jogged after him. “No, I just… Oh, I don’t know. It’s kind of like we just are together, we don’t need anything official.”
“How about just for the fun of it?” Secretly Scott was trying to think of other casual remarks to make that wouldn’t sound like he was trying to guilt Jimmy into agreeing; or give away that he was worried at all.
“Well, I guess so…” He caught up to Scott and when the cyan-haired man abruptly took his hand and squeezed it, he smiled.
~*~
Upon returning home they scrounged up three diamonds as well as two gold ingots, then returned to the spot where Scar had announced his presence. They found Tango waiting for them instead with a lectern beside him and several pieces of paper in his hands, a grin on his face and a gleam in his naturally-red eyes. “Gentlemen, thank you for this excellent business opportunity. You don’t often find people looking for legal services during a death game (although you would think that would make sense for transferring property and weapons after a point). Anyway, I just need you both to sign here and here before we go to the venue.” He held out a quill, which Scott practically snatched out of his hand.
“Hmm,” Tango ruminated, “I suppose this negates a groom seeing his partner until the ceremony, but we’re all running on a tight schedule right now anyway.”
Scott handed the quill to Jimmy. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tango glanced over his shoulder. “Well, let’s just say Dogwarts isn’t invited to the party, and if they did catch wind of it, they might try to crash it. I’ve got someone running interference, though, so I think it’ll be fine.”  He took the papers once Jimmy was done and looked them over, nodding his head several times. “Mm-hm, mm-hm, everything looks in order. I’ll add my signature as witness after the ceremony (which is when I expect payment) and you’ll be all set! This way, gentlemen.”
This time Jimmy went for the initiative and took Scott’s hand to squeeze, his expression a little sheepish as they followed Tango, but Scott grinned.
Directly opposite the trees at the beginning of the desert, Grian was putting the finishing touches on a sandstone archway, a makeshift fence-post lattice across the middle and flowerboxes full of white tulips around the bottom of each side. A tall table sat in the center with a vase of poppies in it. Jimmy could swear Scott’s eyes began to sparkle as he said, “Oh my gosh. This is perfect! Thank you, Grian.”
“No problem.” Grian smiled and waved off the compliment. Then he leaned in and whispered, “I can’t believe he only settled for two diamonds. I would have thought he would take you for twenty.”
Jimmy cast a horrified look around, hoping Scar wasn’t nearby to overhear and take up the suggestion. “Shh, not so loudly! He might change his mind!”
Grian laughed. “No, I wouldn’t worry. He’s been giddy about this the whole time. I think you made his day.”
It was then that Tango started waving his arms at Grian, hissing out, “Oop! Places, places everyone!” He grabbed Jimmy by the shoulders and directed him to one side of the table, while Scott took the hint and stood on the other. Grian stifled a giggle and stepped to the side behind Scott.
Scar appeared, dressed in a gold-trimmed purple robe over his torn adventurer’s outfit, carrying a book that shimmered with some enchantment. Jimmy also had to hold in a laugh, muttering, “Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, Scar, no, Scar, please. Why.”
Tango elbowed him in the back to get him to be quiet.
“Friends!” Scar began as he placed the book on the table. “Thank you all for coming here – or thank you to everyone who would be here, if it wasn’t for the strings of fate pitting us all against each other and forming rivalries that can’t be avoided for even ten minutes! We are gathered here to join these two lovely people in wonderous matrimony, for those very strings have brought them together so that they may share in the magic and adventure that comes with being alive, while it lasts.”
He gestured to toward the table. “If you would hold each other’s hands over this book for a moment, I have a poem to share, then we will continue the ceremony.”
Jimmy tried to get a glance at the enchantment as he held his hands out but all he saw was a series of asterisks before Scott clasped his hands between his own. The cyan-haired man was smiling softly, and so Jimmy presented a matching grin.
Scar theatrically cleared his throat then nodded at Grian, who took something from his pocketspace then dutifully stood in wait as Scar recited:
“A day in spring
An offering
Of flowers that the showers bring
I couldn’t ask for anything more
 The moon is new
The sky is blue
A quiet table set for two
I couldn’t ask for anything more
 A quiet night
The stars are bright
And I am here with you tonight
I couldn’t ask for anything more.
 I can’t think of anything I’d rather do
Than think of the times that I spend with you
In the morning when the sun starts to rise
Throughout the day and under silent evening skies
 I couldn’t ask for anything more
Than to spend the rest of my lives with you.”
 Grian stepped forward and placed a flower crown on Scott’s head, then one on Jimmy’s, and then stepped back again. Scar nodded and placed his hands over the book as well. “And now I ask of you: do you promise to look after the flower fields, and tend the sheep, and forge your weapons for battle, standing together for as long as you can?”
“I do.”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to bandage each other’s wounds and help each other stand back up if one of you falls?”
“I do.”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to have fun together and share every moment of happiness, or even sadness, that chances to happen?”
“I do.”
“I do.”
“Then by the power invested in me as a wizard who, among other things, can invoke the unbreakable bonds of love, I now pronounce you: flower husbands! You may now kiss each other – but maybe make it quick because I think I see uninvited guests on their way.” Scar grabbed the book and tossed it to Grian, then, as Tango grabbed the vase of flowers, Scar picked up the table and ran to the border of the desert, pitching it into the trees and yelling about rude wedding crashers.
Scott and Jimmy ignored the shenanigans for a moment and shared a quick kiss. They forgot about the gold, but taking up a bow, arrows, sword, and shields seemed like the better idea.
 ~End~
 [Post A/N: The poem Scar recites is a version of a song written by my uncle who unexpectedly passed away in Feb 2022. I found several songs in a box of his college papers while cleaning his house, and I hadn’t known he was an aspiring songwriter back then. The lyrics of this one stood out to me and I decided to use it here in his honor, with my own addition of the last line.]
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purlturtle · 2 years
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Hello, lovely human.
Fanfic Writer Emoji ask!
How about you pick 15 emojis you want to answer, and go wild?... :)
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oh god. oh you wonderful human you.
FIFTEEEEEEEN!!!!!
*clears throat*
okay. oh god. hnggnnnh. here we go. (I'm being all calm and normal, as promised.)
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels? (1)
Helena realizing that she is allowed to want, and to have, happiness. Myka realizing that she is allowed to want, and to have, happiness! They've both been dealt really harsh cards by life, and I love to give them love and care and support, not just from each other, but from a wider circle of found family as well. And whenever I get to describe a scene that shows them realizing that, 🥺
🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? (2)
I'm very proud of this line I put in Helena's mouth: “Well, it’s not as if they hadn’t imagined our bedroom activities long before there ever were any.”
😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers? (3)
I love cliffhangers, both at chapter endings and at fic endings when it's a series! And then wait a week (or, in And Now You, till the events of the next chapter, because I posted that fic in "real time", as it were) until the next chapter goes up. I'm glad my readers are still bearing with me ☺
✍ Do you have a beta reader? (4)
Several! And one of them I even married! 😁 No, but seriously - I find the feedback of beta readers invaluable, not just because English is my second language but because I get too close to the prose (oh wow, unintentional rhyme, nice of you to drop by!), and need an outside eye to tell me if I'm still going in the right direction.
🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write? (5)
I use good ol' MS Word. With a chapter index, and the new(ish) function of "jump back to where you left off last time", it really works for me. I write pretty much entirely linear, and use a different document for ideas and outline, and a third document for outtakes that might still turn out to be useful down the line, and all of that is straightforward enough to work in Word. I've tried Scrivener, but for me it didn't have enough advantages over what I was already used to in order to really (want to) dive into it and make it mine. With my betas, I use Google Docs and comments, but especially for multichapter fic, that is SO SLOW! And sometimes I write short fic right here on Tumblr, in the app.
🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic? (6)
Well, I met my wife through my fics, so yes 😁 but even beyond that, a few of my family and friends know. However, none of them (AFAIK) read a lot of fic in general, nor my fic in particular; most of them aren't English readers, OR geeks.
🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic? (7)
Y'know, I just checked, and my ratings ranking is "Teen and up" 20 works, "General" 19, "Explicit" 17!, and "Mature" 4. 😂 so yeah, I do write the spicy stuff! Both as parts of the larger narrative (the most popular of which is And Now You), and as PWP (here the most popular is 24th century t...echnology, a Beverly/Kathryn fic). I gotta say I do love me some good smut. And I hope mine meets the bill!
💲 Would you ever open commissions? (8)
I only write fan fic, not original, so no. I am fiercely protective of AO3, and I will protect their integrity one hundred percent. I don't seek to monetize my writing, anyway - it's a pastime, it is fun, and I want it to stay that way. I am lucky in that I don't need any side hustles, and hey, no shade to those who do find (legal, non-harmful-for-the-larger-fanfic-community) ways to make money from writing, but I also hate hate hate that capitalism has come to the point where some people think you gotta derive money from something somehow for it to be worthwhile, or where people see no other choice than to try, in order to make their ends meet. I write for fun. I am privileged to be able to write for fun. So no, no commissions. But hey, sometimes I do prompts, and I love taking part in gift exchanges! So if you ever wanna get something written by me, just let me know and if it tickles my muse, you might get it!
🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic? (9)
Yes, I really like doing that! I have a winter holidays fic, a Halloween fic, a Pride fic, and I have another idea on the backburner for another winter holidays fic; no clue when I'll ever get to writing it, but I'll get there some day! As for favorites, the Halloween fic really kicked my ass, so it won't make that list, and the other two are tied!
🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants? (10)
So I never really "learned" how to write? In that I never had any kind of instruction in creative writing, I mean. I didn't even know there was such a thing as outlining, or what different writing processes looked like. I would just open a new Word doc and go forth! So yes, I started out a pantser - but lately I'm working with a writing coach, and have looked into writing styles and strategies in other ways too, and I'm realizing that outlining fits me a little better. I'm in a weird in-between phase right now where I have, like, half a dozen WIPs that were started pantser fashion but where I'm trying to outline how the rest of the fic might go; it's fascinating! (and talking with other writers has been immeasurably helpful for those!)
🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success? (11)
If I am happy with it. Sure, I like kudos, and hits, and comments (especially comments! When someone says "this fic is like a warm comfy blanket" or "I've read this four times at least"? Priceless!) but those are the icing, not the cake. I am immensely proud of Angel, Sinner, Dragonslayer, for example, both for the story itself and for the craft of it, but that one isn't even in the Top 15 by kudos or the Top 20 by hits. And for me to love a fic or to consider it good, those benchmarks don't matter. They make me happy, don't get me wrong - I love hearing if my fics reverberate with people, if they make them happy, if they make them feel all the feels, if people think the smut is hot, etc. etc. - but on my opinion of my fic, they have no impact.
⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter? (12)
When the muse hits me, when that holy trifecta of inspiration, motivation and time comes together, I can easily write 10,000 words in a day. It's not that I struggle to get words on the page; it's more that the days when that trifecta hits are rare. At the beginning of the pandemic, I was extremely prolific even by my own standards; writing was my way of coping. That has dropped a little bit, alas. Writing is still my happy place, my way of escaping the current hellscape and hang out with my favorite characters, but my energy has definitely been sapped by *gestures at everything*. Add to that that I only ever publish a fic when it's done, and not as I go (god, that idea scares me) (yes even when I publish it week by week; it's all written and done, I just enjoy torturing you by drawing it out), and you see why there's sometimes a long time between fic drops from me.
💥 How do you feel about criticism? 💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback? (13)
Ah! Feedback is a passion of mine. I can take something from almost any kind of comment - even if it is "this commenter has no idea and isn't engaging in good faith". And I always seek to improve my craft, and for that a comment like "this is a bit weak on plot, innit?" is really helpful! Especially if on top of "bit weak" I get given ideas how it could be stronger. Like I said, I never had any training in creative writing, so I am in many ways still learning and will continue to learn for the rest of my life, and I can only do that when I know where I still have room to grow. A bit of background here: I'm a social worker by training, and work in quality management now. I literally thrive in trying to improve things along any number of axes, and that is simply not possible without criticism. So hey, if you have always wanted to point out to me all the ways in which my stuff could be better, by all means reach out and let me know!
❌ What's a trope you will never write? (14)
Grimdark. Or even tragedy. I might take my characters to very dark places, but there will always be light at the end; there will always be a happy ending. Also, man-hating lesbians. Also, mlm. Yes, I'm a woman and yes, I write fanfic, but I write femslash, not slash. 🤷‍♀️ There might be a mlm couple somewhere in the background, sure, because I love including all kinds of queer people in my fics, but my muse just isn't tickled by mlm. As a matter of fact, my muse has pointed due Bering and Wells for the last five years or so? So yeah.
👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please! (15)
Man, I need to revive the posts in which I talk about my WIPs! Okay, here goes: I'm still working on Strata Part 2 with my beta, and also on Mind Over Matter Part 2. The Pirate fic is a bit on the back burner right now, because I have more inspiration for MOM2 at the moment. I finally have an idea for how to bring it to a good end (thanks, @anandabrat!), and that is the kind of iron you have to hit while it's hot! It'll be from Helena's POV, and show her journey towards a relationship. It's funny how an actual A/B/O fic, that started out with Bering and Wells having, like, the hottest sex ever (offpage though), has turned into one of the slowest burns I've ever written! 😅
Okay, that was a lot!!! And I loved every moment of it!
My wonderful friend, thank you for this opportunity to gush. Mwah mwah mwah!!!
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imagine-silk · 1 year
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Days Recovering: Day Four; manipulate, mansplain, malewife
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Unfortunately, Daylen being conscious still didn’t mean he was ready to leave as much as he wanted to. And he made every waking moment difficult. Sten counted himself lucky he was finally able to convince him not to get up and try to find something to do for the rest of the day. He was never one to sit still, even more so when he knew there was someone to help nearby. Him being in a hospital was a nightmare for all parties. 
He gave the nurses a heart attack, popping a stitch and bleeding on the floor trying to walk around. He passes out during conversations because he was forcing himself to stay awake during the day. And his need to stick his tongue out at every templar who walked by made Sten wonder how he ever survived in the circle. The most relief he’s had was the paper that arrived in the mail.
What’s that?
“It’s my leave approval. A job change on my visa so I can stay here.”
The mage blinked at him before breaking out in a huge smile, stretching the red split on his lip. “Really.”
“Don’t speak.”
Sorry. His chuckle piped down as he wrote more. What is your new assignment?
“Painting.” Such a simple word received the exact reaction he thought it would. “It is a subject I am familiar with. It can be done at home as well. Even sketches can be sold. It’s practical and a good way to make money. Can you stop looking at me like that?”
This was the side of him Daylen always wanted to keep to himself. When he was embarrassed over something small he started explaining himself. As far as he knew he did keep it to himself, the only reason no one else had seen this was because he didn’t care about their perception of him. That fact always buzzed in his head and made him dizzy.
Like what?
“Like you’re going to laugh.” There was a silent ‘at me’.
I’m not laughing. Sten's face didn’t change. I think it’s very thoughtful and I know you like art so I hope you like making it.
The qunari’s shoulders fell, ever so slightly.  “Thank you.”
------------------------------------------
When he first entered the country Sten always thought the pale skin the people of Ferelden had was strange. They looked like a sheet of paper was baked and smoothed onto a small soft creature. Being surrounded by these paper people was something he’d learned to get used to. He wondered when he started to care about the blue spots on this paper person, the red lines and the inside tears. But before he could stop it they were already family, brothers in arms. So he would sit in the chair he asked for because the last one was too small and sit next to the bed of the man he finally got to fall asleep, looking up from his book every so often to watch his chest rise and fall. Watching the splotches of blue turn into purple.
“Mr. Sten, could I speak to you for a moment?” Dr. Mullins beckoned him into the hall with his clipboard. Sten followed the doctor into the hall, careful not to make noise. “Something came up regarding the document you signed.” 
“The procedure is finished. I hardly see this as relevant.” Sten’s face did not betray him like his beating heart did.
The good doctor’s lips formed a tight line as his eyes narrowed. “Okay, I’m not going to beat around the bush. You are not married to that man so going forward I can’t legally allow you to sign off on surgeries.”
“I see.” Since he told the lie he knew he’d have to make a cover story, he just didn’t think it would be so soon. “I did not mean to be dishonest. In truth, we never had a moment to get married. Our duties always call us away and I did not understand what marriage was, we do not have it under the Qun.”
“I understand but I cannot allow life-threatening procedures to be done under uncertain authority. You have no authority-”
“Would you let the man you love die?”
The doctor stopped in his tracks and stared. And Sten counted every heartbeat as he waited for the response. “What the hell. Look, I have a lot of patients to get to and not a lot of time. But I can’t know the validity of all of the signatures I get. Understand?” He leaned in and raised his eyebrows. Oh.
Sten let out a breath. “I understand.”
“Good.”
------------------------------------------
The hospital was quiet all things considered. And in that quiet Daylen slept as Sten grabbed his things to head home for the night.  And before he left Daylen started to turn in his sleep searching for something to grab. Without much thought Sten puts his bag down, goes back to his chair, and holds his hand. The turning stops. Everything is quiet, the air is freezing against his skin, and Sten fights the urge to trace the calluses on the small human hand. A minute passes, two minutes pass, twenty minutes pass before he leaves the room. No one but them were in the room, no one to pose in front of, everyone was out in the hall. It was for them.
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lovethewayyoudoso · 16 days
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One of Rosaires biggest flaws is that he doesn't really understand the concept of doing something good or nice for the sake of it. He's certain everything has a cost, whether it's money, time, effort. Everything has always come at a cost for him afterall. Every relationship petered out because they grew bored of him or they just wanted something (usually monetary or otherwise tangible), or they got bored of what else he had to offer (sex! He was never very affectionate early on, why would he be?). When people got bored of you, they were done with you, that's how everything works.
And not just relationships. You donate to a charity and now they want more. You give them your time in terms of volunteerism and now you need to head up an event. You toss a fiver in a beggars cup and they ask for a ten when you walk by the next time. Let a friend use your private jet and it seems like they've made it their own service now.
You don't live up to expectations and now you're useless, you're never good enough.
On the surface level of this mentality of why Rosaire has become generally selfish, Toshiya has to scratch his head. So, ditch the boyfriends that use you. Tell the charities you're happy to spread the word about their efforts. Buy the beggar a sandwich next time or just have a humanizing chat with him. Set a boundary with your belongings. Didn't doing all these things pay off initially with feeling good? Even the relationships: just because you've had bad luck doesn't mean you should stop trying. Doesn't being nice and kind and helpful and trying your best feel good? These things pay for themselves.
Rosaire doesn't get it. Toshiya doesn't get that he doesn't get it. They come from different worlds in so many ways. "There are people who love you for being you, Rosaire, I promise. You don't think so but I bet if you just look for friends you will find them." Or: "Just do something nice to be nice. Don't look back, don't try to justify, just do something nice or fun or frivolous."
Rosaire ponders the conversation. He mostly thinks about the surface level implications and messages (because the deeper ones... Well, that's something for his therapist). Do something nice just to be nice and see how it makes you feel. The feeling is the reward and if your mind and your heart keep asking for more? Then do more: do another nice thing and another kind thing but don't let yourself feel obligated. Seek out those who appreciate you and your actions and don't dwell on those who abuse it.
He asks Fabienne for the rundown on the mail he's received today. She opens the overwhelming majority of it, filtering out the junk and the scams and whatnot. Legal business and official documents of course go straight to him or the appropriate entity (lawyer, accountant...).
"This one looks like a personal letter, but I don't recognize the name... Do you know an H. Gonzalez in the United States?" Fabienne flipped the rather decorative envelope over before cutting it open.
"No idea." He gave her little attention as he thumbed through the few pieces of mail from the week that actually interested him. A catalogue, a business journal...
The woman laughed as she read the floral decorated card that was inside. It was a noise of sweet amusement and surprise, "Mon dou dou, you've been invited to a wedding."
"Ah...pardon?" Blue eyes looked up over his magazine, one brow quirked.
"Apparently... Mademoiselle Hannah Juanita Gonzalez is marrying her long time girlfriend, Mademoiselle Casey Leigh Smith, in Des Moines," she said the name in a distinctly French way, "Ee-oh-wa? United States."
"Hmm," he tapped his chin, "Never heard of them, or Ee-oh-wa, United States. Isn't Toshiya's sister-in-law a Smith? Isn't that their surname?"
"Maybe they're related?"
"But why would she invite me and not him? Let me see that."
"Is Smith a common name? What are the odds?" Fabienne handed the card over and went back to sorting the mail, though her ears were certainly trained on what Rosaire thought of the card. The man hummed as he read the text himself, checking the back in case he missed something, then grabbed his phone to do a little investigating.
It took a while, but: "I found her on social media and it looks like she's an employee of CMR, a driver." He looked up at his friend with a cheeky grin, "She wants her boss at her wedding?"
"Her boss's boss's boss's boss's boss, maybe. How did she get your address?"
"Why is she inviting me? Maybe this is some kind of... You know, like a stunt or a trend?" Rosaire poured over the card again and had a little laugh. "I've never received anything like this before." He paused to think about the flowers on the cover of the card and the nicely printed details on the RSVP card inside. "Maybe I'll send in toward her charity, for a laugh. It says here 'no gifts, please send a check or digital donation to' some organization. I'll send a little card too!"
"A card to who?" Both Fabienne and Rosaire looked over as Toshiya entered the office, straightening his overshirt and offering a curious smile as he often did.
-
As soon as that RSVP card landed at the return address the bride-to-be blew up her social media circle with the news. It seemed like a joke response, or someone intercepted the letter and replied with a 'yes, plus one, both meals pasta but one must be dairy-free'. A new friend on her social confirmed it was no hoax; the username RosaireRouSo wasn't a spoof account at all. (He ended up posting a selfie with his username, real name, and date and time written on paper and stuck to a current-dated magazine [since he didn't have a newspaper!]) And when an agent on Rosaires behalf contacted the brides to inform them of his security needs and to confirm other details...
Well.
Needless to say the donation to the charity was quite large and it was presented in person. Rosaire's agent had expressed his clients desire to *not* take attention away and that he was adamant to be treated as any other guest. No photos save for private ones with the brides. He was strongly encouraged to attend, just for fun and out of the kindness of his heart, by his boyfriend. Toshiya saw the best in everyone and he knew Rosaire had that kindness in there somewhere. Plus, they got to play dress up! And see a new part of the world! (Where they learned exactly what Des Moines, Iowa was all about... and Rosaire cut another check to a local LGBT group.)
The pair took the brides out for lunch the day before their honeymoon; the women were happy to accept! It was an all-expenses paid meeting with the owner of one of the world's largest logistics companies! (And his precious boyfriend, of course.) The women spoke about their lives and what they envisioned their life together to be, and it made Toshiya's heart melt.
By the time the pair returned to Japan... well, the women had an IOU for a new house, their honeymoon was paid for, and a word was going to be put in with the supervisor for the gal who worked for Rosaire's company.
And by the time the pair went to bed that first night in Japan, Rosaire phone was absolutely blowing up from the positive PR and the hate messages alike.
"It still cost you a mindblowing amount of money-- well, mindblowing to most people. I thought you were trying to find ways to do good and lift your spirits without it costing you money?" Toshiya pondered.
"Well, aren't we supposed to offer our best skills and assets to our friends in times of need? And what am I better at than making money..."
Toshiya sighed, "Well, I think you mostly got the message."
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spideykaiparker · 3 years
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Not Your Average Field trip
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Peter Parker x Stark!reader
Field trip trope
warning(s) : slight smut, fluff
summary : peter's decathlon team are going on a field trip to Stark Industries, but peter wasn't allowed to go, long story short, they bumped into peter in the hallway, catching peter in a slight compromising situation.
author's note : okay, so this is my second peter parker fanfic, this is your typical peter parker field trip trope but with a slight twist, i had this idea for a while, so i hope you like it! it's okay if you don't, cause i just wrote this for my own entertainment, hehe. english is not my first language, so sorry if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes.
I'm really sorry if it's bad, but i promise it gets better along the way!
anyways, happy reading! ^_^
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it was noisy in the decathlon room, Mr. Harrington was in the principal's office because apparently there's some big news for the team.
about 45 minutes later, Mr. Harrington came back to the room with a bunch of papers, wearing an excited face. immediately all of the noise stopped and the focus was on Mr. Harrington.
"okay everyone, i have some exciting news here" Mr. Harrington said, practically shaking because he couldn't contain his excitement. "we're going to Stark Industries on Friday!" he continued with a huge grin.
"what?!"
"how?"
"we're going where?"
all of peter's decathlon teammates were freaking out, excited by the news, but peter, he was freaking out because of the fact that they were going to his work place.
but then again, his teammates except ned and mj doesn't even believe that peter got an internship at Stark Industries, they think that he's lying about his internship, hell, even some of his teachers doesn't believe him, even if he already gave them the legal documents, they still won't believe him, saying that he's forging the documents. where in reality, he really got an internship. Mr. Stark has gave him a real internship seeing as he's really intelligent, some might even say he's on par with Tony Stark himself. Mr. Stark made him his personal intern, but he could still work with the other interns.
"okay calm down everybody, I'm going to hand out these forms for your parents or guardians to sign, make sure to hand it in to me on thursday" Mr. Harrington explained while handing out the forms, still a bit excited himself.
"okay you may go now"
just as peter was heading out, Mr. Harrington called him over. "pete can you come here for a second" he said while gesturing with his hand for peter to come over.
"yes Mr. Harrington? is anything wrong?"
"ah yes, unfortunately, because some of the teachers don't believe that you really have an internship at Starks Industries, they decided to not let you go, they said that your lying has gone too far, and should be punished for it, therefore you can't come on the field trip"
"what? but I'm not lying, Mr. Harrington" peter questioned, a bit hurt that his teachers don't even believe him, but also a bit relieved, because he wouldn't have to go on a field trip to his own work place.
"i know you're not pete, but unfortunately the other teachers don't think so, but you can just stay at home instead of going to school" Mr. Harrington explained, feeling sorry for peter.
"okay, Mr. Harrington, thanks for informing me" peter said while walking outside.
peter went straight to Stark Industries after that, because May finally agreed for them to stay at Stark Industries after a lot of provoking from Mr. Stark.
once he arrived at Stark Industries, he went straight up to the living quarters, more specifically to Y/N stark's room, without needing to scan his badge because the employees there already knows him.
when he reached the top he went straight to Y/N's room, only to see her sleeping in front of her desk with a bunch of unfinished projects that she's working on.
smiling at the sight, peter slowly made his way to Y/N, picking her up gently, and carrying her to her bed, then getting inside under the covers himself. Y/N automatically snuggled closer to peter, feeling his warmth, inhaling his familiar scent.
"mm.. you're back" Y/N said while rubbing her face in peter's sweatshirt like a cat.
"yeah i just got back, baby" peter replied while stroking the back of her head, smiling down at her.
"what time is it?" Y/N questioned whilst rubbing her eyes.
"uhh, i think it's a little past four pm"
"let's head to the kitchen, I'm hungryy" Y/N suggested while slowly getting up from the bed, still gaining consciousness.
~
once they reached the kitchen, Y/N sat down on the counter, while peter made a sandwich for both of them.
Y/N, who was still a bit drowsy from sleep, noticed the sad look on peter's face while he was making a sandwich. she made her way to peter, hugging him from the back, resting her chin on his shoulder, but can't quite reach it because of the slight height difference. so she opted to just snuggle her face on the back of his right shoulder.
"is everything okay?" she questioned, tightening her grip around his waist.
"yeah.. it's just- i was supposed to go on a field trip here on friday, but the teachers wouldn't let me go because they think I'm lying about my internship" peter answered with a frown.
"what? how could they, they can't just do that, you gave them the documents, proof that you're really an intern here" Y/N said with anger clear in her voice, hugging peter a bit tighter.
"i know, but they think that I'm forging the documents" peter answered with a defeated look on his face.
"let's go talk to my dad, I'm sure he'll do something about it"
"no, it's okay, i don't care if they don't believe me, it's fine if i don't go on the field trip, i literally live here, why would i want to go on a field trip to my own home" peter retaliated
"but still—" she got cut off by peter turning around in her hold, hugging her back, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"it's fine, Y/N, I'm okay" he said with a small smile.
still a bit mad, Y/N just nodded her head with a small pout, resting her head on his chest, hugging him tighter.
peter laughed at her cuteness, resting his head on top of her's in return, rubbing the back of her head lovingly.
they spent the rest of the day watching netflix, talking about random stuff, just enjoying each others company.
~
thursday, they were supposed to hand in their forms to Mr. Harrington, and while his teammates excitedly talked about going to Stark Industries, peter was just resting his head on the table, waiting for the day to go by. ned offered to not go on the field trip and just hang out with peter, but peter couldn't do that to ned, so he insisted for ned to go the field trip.
peter just couldn't wait to go home, flash has been taunting him every second about his internship, saying that he couldn't wait to prove to the whole school that penis parker is lying about his internship.
"why the sour face, parker? scared that your fake internship would be exposed?" flash taunted.
peter didn't reply, instead he just buried his head in his arms, wishing for this to all be over so he could head home and cuddle with Y/N.
"not answering, are we? afraid that I'm right?" flash continued taunting peter with a smirk.
"just leave me alone, flash" peter answered, with a tired look.
"tch, fine, I'm going to prove everyone I'm right tommorow anyways"
"whatever you say, flash" peter said while rolling his eyes.
when it was time to go home, peter practically sprinted out of the room, can't wait any longer to go home and spend time with Y/N.
~
when he reached the tower, he went straight to Y/N's room, finding her working on a project she's been working on for weeks.
"oh peter, you're here" Y/N said, getting up from her desk and immediately hugging peter.
peter hugged her back tightly, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her comforting scent, immediately forgetting about today's events.
~
when nighttime came, they laid on the bed, talking about each other's days. but peter got distracted by the way her lips move, thinking about how her lips wrapped around him, taking in his entire length in her mouth, teasingly playing with the head with her tongue.
"—pete? are you listening?" she asked with a slight smirk. she knows that peter has been staring at her lips for a quite while, she could practically see what he was imagining in his mind.
"huh? y-yeah? what?" peter breaks out of his trance, looking into her eyes that held a mishchievious glint.
"i said, were you listening?" she asked with an innocent look.
"y-yeah, i was" peter stuttered back.
"really? i could've sworn you've been looking at my lips for a while then" she climbed onto his lap "probably imagining how it would look wrapped around your pretty cock, aren't you? how i would lick the head like a lollipop, or how i would take you whole, slowly rubbing your thighs.." she trailed off, kissing his neck, running one of her hand down his chest, resting it on his growing bulge.
peter gulped, looking up at her with doe eyes, gripping her waist tightly.
"i know you said that you're fine about the field trip peter, but i could see the look on your face everytime someone mentions it, so, let me take care of you, okay?" Y/N said, slowly rubbing his growing erection through the material of his pants. she tugged on his shirt signaling him to take of his shirt, he did it almost immediately.
she got off him, only to go down in front of his erection, slowly unbuttoning his pants, sliding it down his legs, leaving his boxer briefs behind.
she kissed the insides of his thighs, leaving bite marks on her way, slowly making her way to his clothed erection.
she rubbed him through the material of his briefs, teasing him while kissing his stomach and hips continuing to leave marks.
peter couldn't contain his moans, he threw his head back moaning loudly not caring if anybody hears, gripping the bed sheets, he couldn't wait for Y/N to finally wrap her lips around him.
Y/N went up in fornt of his face, kissing him roughly, still rubbing her hand up and down his shaft. then slowly making her way down, kissing his neck, leaving marks, going down to his chest.
she wrapped her lips around one of his nipples, swirling her tongue around it, slightly biting it, while her free hand went to his other nipple, pinching it slightly with her index and thumb, occasionally switching to rolling it with her thumb.
peter was absolutely losing it, the feeling of her lips around his nipples, combined with her hand slowly rubbing his hard on. he feels as if he's going to explode if she doesn't put him in her mouth immediately.
she then continued her way down, hooking her fingers around the waistband of his briefs, finally letting it out of its confinement. his member sprung up hitting his lower abdomen, precum leaking out of the pink tip, twitching when she wrapped her hand around it.
she slowly moved her hand up and down his hard shaft, her thumb gently pressing down on the head, immediately getting a loud moan out of him.
she leaned a bit, giving small kitten licks on the head, then finally wrapping her lips around the head first, swirling her tongue around it, then slowly went down further, until her nose brushed against the base. one of her hand playing with his balls, kneading it.
peter moaned loudly, throwing his head back, one of his hand making its way to her hair gripping it tightly, guiding her head to move up and down. peter couldn't hold his hips back from thrusting into her mouth roughly, hitting the back of her throat.
this slightly surprised Y/N, choking her slightly, but doing her best to keep up with his pace.
his thrusts becoming sloppy, his member twitching inside her mouth, indicating her that he was about to cum.
"i-i'm cumming" peter said, eyes closed, his thrusts becoming even more sloppy.
with a few more thrusts, he came inside her mouth, she removed herself from him, swallowing his load, helping him with his high, running her hand up and down his shaft, with some of the cum going onto her face.
when he was done, they were both panting, looking into each others eyes with blush coating both of their faces.
he leaned down and kissed her, slightly tasting himself on her tongue. the kiss was slow, and passionate, opposite of their kiss earlier.
they pulled back and smiled at each other, until peter remember something.
"wait, i didn't get to return the favor"
"it's fine peter, i told you i was the one who's taking care of you today, you can make it up to me some other time, okay?" she said, cupping his cheeks with her hands, kissing his lips one more time.
"okay..."
"okay, I'm going to wash my face now, then we can go to sleep" she said once again, while getting up from the bed heading to the bathroom. peter just wore his briefs, too tired to do anything else.
once she was done, they cuddled the rest of the night, with her head on his chest, her arm wrapped around his neck, and one of her leg was thrown over his thighs, while his arms wrapped themselves around her waist, burying his head in her hair.
~
the next morning, they woke up around 10.30 a.m, because of last nights... events. after they woke up, they decided to stay a little longer in bed, just talking, maybe sneaking in some kisses in between. they were both too distracted by each other that they forgot it was friday, a.k.a the day when peter's decathlon team have a field trip to Stark Industries.
~
the decathlon team arrived not too long ago. usually, Stark Industries doesn't allow school field trips to go higher than the general labs. but, their tour guide, harley keener, was specifically instructed by Tony Stark himself to allow them to go to the higher levels, where tony's and bruce's labs were at. but not only that, that's also where the avengers living quarters, common rooms, and training room/gym were at. just so he can prove everyone that peter is not lying.
"okay, so just a reminder, you are not allowed to touch or take anything from here" harley informed the team while walking down the hallway after going out of the elevator.
"so as you can see, these are some of the avenger's rooms, each of their names are labeled on the door"
the team was in awe with everything, they couldn't believe that they were allowed to go to the higher levels.
"woah is that Y/N stark's room?!" one of the kid's exclaimed.
just as they were about to pass Y/N's room, the door suddenly opened, and out comes peter, only wearing some gray sweatpants, his neck and bare chest littered with hickeys, and Y/N with an oversized t-shirt —probably peter's, with some short's that almost covered by the t-shirt. "yeah i was thinking about pancakes—"
"—peter?"
"—Y/N Stark?"
the decathlon team's mouths hang wide open shocked by the scene infront of them, even ned, mj was slightly surprised but didn't showed it. they couldn't believe that penis parker the nerd was coming out of Y/N Stark's room, shirtless, with hickeys littered around his torso, and has abs.
"huh?" they —peter and Y/N, turned their heads, and when they saw who made the noise, their eyes widened.
"harley! what are they doing here!, they aren't supposed to be here!" peter exclaimed, covering his chest, standing behind Y/N.
"i don't know man, Tony told me they were allowed to go here" harley answered with a shrug.
"but i see you had some fun last night" he continued with a huge smirk on his face.
peter blushed, wanting to just bury himself in the ground and forget this ever happened.
"peter! you really work here?" one of his teammates asked.
"well yeah, i did already told you guys, didn't i? you guys just didn't want to believe me"
"i believed you since the beginning, peter!" ned exclaimed happily.
"and thank you for that" peter smiled, still can't grasp the fact that this is actually happening, his teammates caught him coming out of Y/N's room, with him looking like that.
"peter! are you really dating Y/N stark?" one of his teammates asked again, wanting to know as much as possible about the situation right now.
"umm.." he paused, looking at Y/N, silently asking her if he should tell them, when Y/N nodded with a comforting smile, he continued, "yeah.."
hearing his answer, his teammates were once again shocked by the fact that peter was really dating Y/N.
"why?" a voice asked from the back, they all looked behind them, making way for the person to come forward. the person walked forwards confidently, with smug look on his face.
"why penis parker?" it was flash. once again not wanting for peter to have such a nice life.
"what did you just called him?" Y/N asked, daring him to call peter that again, her smile immediately turning into a scowl, eyes practically boring in flash's skull.
"penis parker, why him? out of all the people you could have, for example me" flash answered, still looking smug, but a slight fear crossed his eyes. his teammates were silently watching the scene unfold infront of them, slightly scared for flash, but also knowing that he deserves it.
"why, you ask? why not? he's smart, kind, selfless, caring, got a body to die for, a face that's cute and hot on the same time, i mean how is that even possible? he's perfect, he's everything you're not ever going to be.' Y/N answered, venom practically lacing every word she utters.
before flash can utter a word, she continued, "—you think you're perfect for me? have you looked at yourself? you think you're all that, flaunting all that money, but in reality, that's just your daddy's money" she said with a mocking pout, "but after this, are you sure you're still going to have money?, you better be scared for your dad, because after the stunt you just pulled here, I'm sure dad's going to take action about it. and before you say anything about me being a daddy's girl, having her dad take care of her problems, using all of her dad's money, no. unlike you, i actually help here, i actually earn the money that's been given to me, infact, most of the avengers gears were designed with the help of me." she ended, arms crossing infront of her chest, looking intimidatingly at flash, daring him to argue.
but flash couldn't even utter a single word, mouth opening and closing like a fish, embarrassed, not looking so confident now.
peter's teammates who were just observing, was also shocked by the words uttered by the Stark girl, feeling embarrassed for flash, and admiring her intimidating aura. peter looking at her with heart eyes, practically falling in love all over again with her.
when flash didn't utter a single word, she smirked, "so now that that's settled, peter and i are going to head on our way now, bye bye~" she waved her fingers with one hand, the other pulling peter away from his teammates.
"oh yeah, one more thing, you're all going to sign NDA'S to make sure, none of this is going to get out, if you were to even utter a single word about today to anyone, you better watch out because we are going to take action." she walked out, dragging peter with her, slightly swaying her hips, peter behind her looking at her with admiration.
his teammates were once again left shocked by the whole encounter, looking back at their retreating bodies with a new found astonishment.
it was silent for a second, then all of a sudden they all started freaking out, talking about the encounter.
"okay, so that happened, come on now let's continue the tour" harley cuts, silencing everyone.
~
peter and Y/N decided to have breakfast, or probably brunch, and then deciding to train for a while. they headed to the training room. they changed into their workout clothes, peter just wearing a tight t-shirt, kind of like the ones steve likes to wear, paired with some shorts, and Y/N wearing a sports bra, with some matching leggings on.
they continued sparring for a while, too distracted by each other, that they didn't realize that the decathlon team was once again at the door, watching them spar with each other with astonishment, still having the difficulty to grasp that penis parker was actually cool.
somehow, they ended up with peter being pinned down on the ground, with Y/N straddling him.
Y/N smirked, leaning down, her hands still bunched up around peter's collar, using that to slightly pull peter up, making him lean his body on his elbows, then kissing him. peter kissed back almost immediately, one of his hand coming around to grip her waist.
the decathlon team who was watching the scene unfold infront of them, was once again shocked.
"...okay, let's just leave them alone now." harley awkwardly suggested, ushering everyone out.
one by one, they left the training room with shocked looks on their faces, leaving peter and Y/N in their own worlds.
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