#print screen button can't keep up

[frostbroom]

suspicious fish miss

[2tarbell]

CAN'T TALK, I'M KINDA BUSY

you’re trying to enjoy yourself but you get a phone call…

(831 words. drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

“oh, daddy—”

the words fell from your lips unconsciously, your voice sounding unrecognizable as it was slurred from pleasure, hips bucking up into rafe’s eager mouth. the slurping sounds like music to your fuzzy head. he’s had you laid beneath him for a while now, his head nestled deep between your thighs.

it was a sight to see, you were sure of it. looking down at him as he ate you out like it was his first and last meal, you felt a coil of heat twist and turn low in your belly. walls pulsing around his tongue.

“shit...”

rafe had his eyes closed, the muscles in his back flexing and relaxing as he devoured you. his hands were under and around your thighs, keeping you spread open when a certain brush of his tongue would cause your legs to try and clamp shut around his head.

not that he’d mind being suffocated there.

he’d hum occasionally, the vibrations buzzing against your clit and making you twitch and whine. you’d feel his smile against your slick core, completely enraptured in your pleasure like it was his own. he had you gasping out helplessly as he adjusted on your bed, somehow pressing his face even deeper into your drooling cunt. you cried out more when he actually spoke into you.

“makin’ such a mess f’me, sugar… yeah, that’s it, gooood girl.”

they were mumbles at best, but the praise lit you up. his words had you hissing, feeling a rush of heat and tingly sparks grow more intense where his mouth was connected to you.

your impending orgasm was cut short when your phone started to ring shrilly on your nightstand. you huffed and removed one your hands from his fluffed up hair to grab it.

rafe lifted his head away from you, his thumb moving in to rub maddening circles on your clit. he began kissing up your body. your breath hitched, both at the feeling and at the caller ID.

“who’s that?” he mumbled gruffly against your cleavage, his chin and lips coated in your glistening arousal, leaving wet lip prints against your skin. he looked up at you with half lidded eyes.

you’d blush at the sight if your boyfriends name wasn’t currently showing on your phone screen.

“it’s— it’s jj…”

rafe rolled his eyes at the name and pressed hot open mouth kisses up your neck, ignoring your whine about not leaving any marks.

his lips brushed against your ear as he teased two fingers against your fluttering core, not pushing them in just yet.

“answer it.”

his words caused your eyes to snap open, you don’t even remember closing them. you looked at him incredulously.

“what?—”

the two fingers slid into your heat, cutting off your confused exclamation. the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his fingers made rafe swallow thickly. pressing soft kisses on your parted lips, nipping at the soft plush.

“fuckin’ answer it. and don’t make me repeat myself again.”

you nodded (maybe a bit too eagerly) and pressed the green button, bringing the phone to your ear as rafe descended back down between your legs.

“heh— hello?”

“hey, sunshine, what’re you…”

the familiar sound of jj’s voice came through the speaker pressed to your ear but you simply didn’t understand a word he said, focusing on rafe instead.

he grinned up at you before staring down your cunt, muttering something along the lines of how pretty she is. you bit your lip when he curled the fingers he had inside of you, rubbing deliciously against that perfect little spot hidden away.

he suddenly spat nastily on your core, the action making you stiffen up in surprise. rafe smirked and watched his spit mix with the greedy evidence of your arousal, the squelch of his fingers bringing a wave of heat to his groin.

it was messy. and just how he liked it.

he looked at you expectantly to continue talking.

“oh, um, ‘m just— just hanging out…”

you couldn’t speak let alone think when rafe dove back in, lapping up the dirty concoction of your slick and his own saliva. you feel him chuckle at your attempt at a normal sentence.

“jj— ‘m just— can’t talk, i’m kinda busy...” you shakily spoke, hoping to end the conversation quickly.

a quick goodbye later, and without even waiting for a response, you hung up. the phone dropped onto the bed with a soft thud. your hands found repurchase in the softness of rafe’s hair.

you rolled your hips up, whining when he removed his mouth. you were shut up by his lips dominating yours. his tongue pushed into your mouth without hesitation as his fingers continued to curl and fuck into you mercilessly.

“dumb fuckin’ girl… you want him to find us out, huh? dirty little thing like you’d like that, i bet.” rafe teased, thumb beginning to press against your clit again.

the way you came and gushed around his digits answered for you.

[yoon-kooks]

p&p | jjk masterlist

⛓️paired & pierced⛓️reader's pov✨smut✨

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader(f)

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.

⛓️word count: 5.3k

⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she’s tight, he’s big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write

⛓️paired & puppy-eyed⛓️jjk's pov

⛓️summary: When Jeon Jungkook agrees to be your partner for a class project, he doesn’t realize what that might escalate to until you show up at his door in a teeny-tiny crop top and cling to his tattooed arm like his naughty little kitten.

⛓️word count: 4.6k

⛓️warnings: dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, dirty talk, reader calls herself a sl*t one time, dick tattoo, many rounds of sex off screen😔

⛓️pastries & promises⛓️reader's pov

⛓️summary: After hooking up with the hot nerdy boy in your coding class over the weekend, you’ll use any excuse to keep his hands on your body all week long.

⛓️word count: 3k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, mention of getting wasted at parties, one instance of slut-shaming, oc makes an ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol, no explicit smut in this drabble

⛓️playboys & pancakes⛓️jjk's pov

⛓️summary: When your fuckboy model friend Park Jimin returns from Paris, Jungkook can't help but feel a little jealous and protective over you even though the two of you aren't technically dating yet.

⛓️word count: 2.6k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, dirty talk, oc is a lil brat, boy gets jealous🤭, soft cuddling, jimin is a tattooed fuckboy, no explicit smut in this drabble

⛓️paw prints & presents⛓️jjk's pov✨smut✨

⛓️summary: You and Jungkook never discussed Valentine’s Day plans, but that doesn’t mean the night won’t include corny Valentine’s cards and you getting down on your hands and knees in pretty pink lingerie for him.

⛓️word count: 2.1k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, dry humping, sex on the couch, handjob, blowjob, face fucking, cumshot, she swallows, oc makes another ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol

⛓️playtime & punishment⛓️reader's pov✨smut✨

⛓️summary: You decide to push Jeon Jungkook's buttons until he snaps and puts you in your place like the little slut you are.

⛓️word count: 2.5k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, daddy kink, good girl kink, nudes, hickeys, oc is a lil horny brat, jk puts her in her place, degradation, "slut" is used a lot, boobie squeezes, begging, she wants his cock so bad🥵, masturbation, oral nerd fantasy, fingering, edging, orgasm denial

if you guys have any specific things you want to see from the p&p couple, feel free to lmk and i might write a drabble for it if i have time!✨ here's a list of ideas for future drabbles✏️ also adding the teaser link here bc the amount of notes is memeable✨

[illuminatedquill]

Short Story Summary: Hera Syndulla arrives at Sabine and Ezra's comm tower to drop off the first print editions of their personal trading cards.

*For @alphaofdarkness and @jedi-nurse who inspired this with their conversations on the Discord server. Hope you like it.

Lothal, Early Morning - Sabine and Ezra's Comm Tower

The characteristic soft chime that played whenever someone was waiting below in the comm tower's courtyard alerted Ezra to their guest's presence. Setting down the data-pad he had been browsing through for the Holo-Net's daily news, he stood and walked over to a nearby monitor at the security station that had been recently installed by Sabine as a precaution.

After all, the last time a guest had arrived she had ended up with a lightsaber stabbed through her abdomen. It was not an experience she wished to repeat again.

Shooing a curious Murley off the console, he pushed a button. The monitor's screen lit up, showing the crisp image of the tower's courtyard - and the familiar face of their guest.

Smiling, he spoke into the intercom. "Hello, Hera."

The green-skinned Twi'lek smiled back and waved at the camera. Seeing her face, practically the same since he had first seen it over a decade ago, always filled Ezra with a sense of warmth and comfort. Hera had been a steady friend, mentor, and surrogate mother to him during the hectic early days of the Rebellion. She was the eternal bedrock of the Spectres, the foundation from which all of them had built their new lives upon.

He noted the casual outfit she wore today: not her usual flight uniform, but a fashionable beige sport jacket, dark brown tunic, slim, high waisted pants, complete with comfortable walking boots. Grasped in her hands was a slim, non-descript wooden case.

"Retirement looks good on you, General," he remarked.

Hera snorted. "Semi-retirement. I was practically forced into it by Leia. She was very insistent."

"It's well-deserved," he replied. "And long overdue."

"And boring," she retorted. "I need structure, Ezra. A mission."

He laughed. "So, you're hiring yourself out as a delivery service now?"

She scowled at him. "Gotta do something. I'm still helping people, at least."

"And not getting shot at or participating in dog fights with pirates is presumably a benefit, as well," Ezra added.

"Eh," she said, waving a careless hand. "I kind of miss it, sometimes."

Hera peered up at the camera. "Are you going to let me up or we just going to chit-chat like this all day? I've got other places to be, you know."

Ezra grinned and let her in.

The slim wooden case lay open on the worktable, revealing the contents within. Ezra peered over it, taking in the sight of what Hera had brought.

She sipped at a caf, a special blend of Hera's favorite flavors. "Thanks for this," she said gratefully.

"Of course," Ezra responded. He picked up one of the items within the wooden case and observed it more closely: a trading card, thin and metallic. With a sense of bemusement, he inspected the image of himself on it, conforming to what he had perceived at the time of the photoshoot to be a "heroic" pose: his lightsaber activated and held in a basic guard position.

There was at least a dozen more of these contained within the wooden case.

"Where's Sabine?" Hera asked.

Ezra nodded towards the section of the comm tower's interior, where the master bedroom was located. "Sleeping in. She just returned from Mandalore late last night."

"Busy days for her, huh," Hera said.

Ezra shrugged, still eyeing the trading card in his hand. "Bo needs her to keep the clans in line."

He shook his head. "I can't believe these are actually real. A Jedi on a trading card."

"Hey, don't knock it," Hera said. "Skywalker's got a bunch, too."

Ezra's eyes widened. "Luke? How did the New Republic convince him to do this?"

"Same way we did with you. He had similar concerns: that Jedi shouldn't be involved in this sort of publicity, even with benevolent intentions," Hera explained. She paused to take a brief sip of her caf before continuing. "To counter this, the government pitched that it was for historical purposes. It was a good way to get the young ones across the galaxy up to date with knowledge of galactic affairs and the people who shaped them."

He blinked, remembering the exact same explanation being given to him. "It's a little scary that they found a way to trick Jedi into this."

Hera shrugged. "You're both history nerds. And there's no harm in giving the kids heroes to root for. I think you both appreciate that fact."

Ezra studied the cards some more, smiling a little. Living as an orphan on the streets of Imperial controlled Lothal, he would have given anything to have a fun side hobby like that.

"Leia, her husband Han, Skywalker, and Lando all have their own trading cards, too," Hera commented. She reached down and plucked a card from within the wooden case. "Everyone in the Ghost crew, also. Me, Zeb, Kanan - even Chopper."

Ezra snorted. He glanced over at the trading card Hera was holding, this one featuring Sabine. She was wearing one of her go-to civilian outfits, her head encased in a speeder-bike helmet. The characteristic Sabine Wren smirk was also in vivid display, along with one other feature that immediately caught his attention.

He frowned. "That can't be recent," he said. "When did she grow out her hair?"

Hera turned to him, surprised. "Right," she said. "You weren't here to see that."

She offered him the trading card. Ezra took it, gazing softly down at the image of his wife.

"She's beautiful," was all he could say. He had only ever seen Sabine with short hair, a necessity with her Mandalorian helmet. Even when she had come to rescue him on Peridea, Sabine had worn a short pixie-style cut. Ezra had assumed that had been her style the entire time he had been gone.

The deep purple he remembered from Peridea was present, but it blended beautifully with the longer locks of burning red. It reminded him of the gouts of flame bursting forth he had seen in paintings of dying stars; the effect of her dye colors presented the look of pure starfire flowing down her shoulders.

"Yeah, Sabine had these done a while ago," Hera confirmed.

"But they're just being released now?" Ezra asked. "Why?"

She sighed. "It took quite a bit of convincing for Sabine to acquiesce to this decision. You know how she is with public facing stuff like this."

Ezra winced, imagining the conversations between Sabine and the New Republic officials to be short and one-sided. Despite her brash exterior, he knew his wife to be an immensely private person, preferring to keep out of the public eye.

"I finally got her to agree, but Sabine would only do it on two conditions: first, that she would have a say in how the cards were designed. If her face was going to be on them, she wanted to ensure that the cards were artistically up to her standards."

Ezra smiled slightly. Sounds like her, he thought. Art was Sabine's first love, before she met him. She would want to make sure that the artwork showcased on the trading cards was befitting of the heroes they featured.

"What was the second condition?" he asked.

Hera cocked her head at him, her eyes suddenly wistful. "That her trading cards would only be sold as a set, not to be separated for any reason."

Ezra's brow furrowed. "She wanted her card to be permanently paired up with another?"

"Yes, Ezra," said Hera quietly. "Yours."

His eyes widened at the revelation.

"That's why hers are only being released now," continued Hera. "She was waiting for you."

Ezra was silent, looking over the cards: his and Sabine's, paired together.

Not to be separated for any reason.

He coughed, trying to clear the sudden lump in his throat. Hera clapped him on the shoulder.

"I think they look better together," she observed wryly. "Don't you?"

Ezra smiled; his eyes were moist with emotion. "Yeah," he agreed. "They do."

Sabine wandered out of the bedroom a little after mid-day. Her hair was sticking up on one end; eyes still bleary from the long sleep, she shuffled over to the couch and sat down next to Ezra.

"Had a good sleep?" he asked her.

She laid her head onto his shoulder. "Mmmmm. First soft bed in weeks. Heavenly isn't strong enough to describe it."

He kissed her head softly. "Is Mandalore still doing alright? No one's gunning for another civil war? "

"Yeah, clan meeting went nice and smoothly," she replied drowsily. "Boring."

Ezra chuckled, strongly reminded of Hera's same response earlier this morning.

"Sounds like progress," he mused.

She shifted her head on his shoulder, moving into a more comfortable position. "Heard you talking with someone. Was it Hera?"

He nodded. Sabine grimaced. "You should have woken me up, goober."

"You were tired. Hera didn't mind. Said she'll call later, to catch up with you."

Sabine didn't argue back, which was an indication of just how exhausted she still was. "What did she want?"

Ezra produced from his pocket the trading cards. "She was dropping these off."

His wife sneaked a glance at them and let out a surprised breath. "Karabast," she muttered. "I forgot these were a thing."

"Freshly minted, first edition," he bragged. "Super rare and valuable, I'm told."

She snorted. "Whatever. We should sell them and buy tickets to a star cruise."

Setting the cards down on the worktable, Ezra grinned and hugged his wife close. "I'm also told," he said gently, "that ours are not to be sold separately."

Sabine went quiet.

He reached over and laced his hand in hers. "It's very thoughtful of you," he whispered. "Thank you."

She squeezed his hand back. "We're a package deal, Ezra. I don't want anyone separating us ever again. Even in something as silly as trading cards."

[waklman]

Glue Song (Pt. 2)

summary: you meet rooster and jake doesn’t know how to feel about it.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: brief mention of death

a/n: more pining, friends to lovers, fluff x angst, rooster x hangman moment (?). part 3 comes next..!

word count: 2.2k

previous part | next part

Jake doesn’t know what gets on his nerves more. 

The fact that Javy insisted to go help you grab more cookies from the kitchen, leaving him to brood in his seat alone or the fact that he’s been painfully watching Rooster struggle to squeeze his Bronco between your mini cooper and Jake’s very own Ford truck. 

After a heated argument on which pilot should lend you a hand, Javy won on the basis that Jake should be the one to greet Rooster when he arrives. And so, Javy is able to escape the wrath of his seething friend with the most shiteating grin on his face as he got to follow you out back. 

Replaying the scene back in his mind leaves Jake annoyed beyond belief, and now that he’s witnessing Rooster back out of the parking spot for the fifth time this evening, he feels his anger flare up even more. 

Jake leans back in his seat, throwing his arms across his chest and watches his guest finally stroll through the front doors as if he’s not running late with another variation of his Hawaiin button up slung over his thick shoulders. 

Rooster doesn’t know what to say as he carefully steps inside, spotting Hangman sitting by himself. He keeps a neutral expression on but doesn’t know what to make of his view. Hangman is waiting for him by a table of love-themed baked goods. He can't help but to imagine how Natasha would kick him in the balls laughing once he tells her what he’s currently seeing. 

Rooster takes in Hangman’s appearance as he gets closer, bewildered that his hair is styled nicely, instead of being slicked back by five pounds of gel. And he can’t recall a time where he’s seen Hangman dressed so casually before. For the first time ever, he acknowledges that Jake looks pretty good. 

As he takes his last step over towards the table, Rooster hesitantly speaks.

“Look man. I don’t know if you misunderstood what Mav said but—”

“Sit.” Jake asks through clenched teeth, peeved that Rooster would even assume he’d have any kind of romantic interest in him.

Though slightly horrified at the situation, Rooster obliges anyway—taking a seat, awkwardly adjusting himself in the tiny chair.

The sight was laughable. The two grown men were basically swallowing the small seats they sat in with an array of goodies displayed between them. 

Jake looks across the table, his eyes silently trailing up and down Rooster’s body. 

Rooster can’t tell if he’s trying to size him up or he’s simply curious about how many Hawaiian printed shirts he owns. 

Both men clear their throats and flinch at their synced mannerism. 

Before they get a chance to fester in an awkward silence together, Jake feels his phone ring repeatedly in his front pocket.

Jake immediately recognizes the unique text-tone he specifically set for your contact. 

Rooster curiously watches Hangman, the man across from him practically shoves half his arm down his pants to grab his phone, a small smile replacing his previously annoyed expression. 

Angel 

Me and Javy are warming up the cookies now!!

Is that his truck out front???

I'm so excited Jack!! 

We’re coming out soon I promose :)) 

His grin peers back at him in the reflection of his screen as he rereads your typos, you were so happy for him that you didn’t even bother to look over your own spelling. 

“Who’s Jack? :(“ he quickly types out in response, shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

Jake bunglingly shifts in his seat, attempting to find a comfortable position after realizing that Rooster had been watching him check his phone.

“Coyote is joining us in a bit, and my other friend too.” He speaks so fast Rooster would’ve never caught what he said if he wasn’t paying close attention.

“Oh, alright” he responds.

They both synchronously stare down at the food in front of them before making brief eye contact with each other. 

Both men quickly retract their gaze, pretending to look around the shop–unsure if they want to make eye contact with one another again. 

Rooster stares off in the direction of the kitchen and spots Coyote walking out, his head looking back over his shoulder to smile at a girl following closely behind him. 

“Wait, watch where you’re going.” you draw back your smile, a worried look settling on your face as you kick at Javy’s ankle, alerting him to look ahead.

Pulled in by the sound of your voice, Jake quickly averts his eyes in your direction. 

You and Javy are both wearing the new bear paw oven mitts he helped you pick out last weekend as you carry out red velvet cookies together. 

He can’t ignore the way his throat tightens as you two make your way over. 

Jake doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He blinks to regain his composure, realizing that he spaced out so severely within the last few minutes that he didn't realize that you and Javy had already politely greeted Rooster and you had taken a seat next to him. 

He drops his gaze down to your knee as it bounces nervously, unaware that your leg is slightly rubbing against the side of his jeans. 

His eyes trail up to your face, and follows your line of sight. You’re eagerly staring down at the cookies you just put out with Javy, as the two pilots sitting across from you are engaged in friendly conversation.

“Try her stuff.” Jake speaks up, interrupting the conversation. 

He quickly rams a cookie into his mouth with his right hand, as his left gently grabs your knee, halting you from giving yourself carpet burn from the way you were furiously rubbing against his denim pants. 

Jake feels you look up at him appreciatively from his peripheral as he shovels a chocolate croissant into his already stuffed cheeks next, urging his fellow aviators to join him. 

“Mmm so damn good,” he moans—closing his eyes, appreciating the way the chocolate swirls on his tongue.

“Yeah?’ Your shoulders shake, laughing at his reaction. Despite how many times he’s already tried your baking, Jake has never failed to display his enjoyment every time. 

Rooster and Javy quickly reach for the closest treat as Jake shoots them a spine chilling look while you distracted yourself, trying to find a napkin from the empty table behind you. 

Once you’re fully facing everyone again, you hand Jake his much needed napkin and place a napkin in front of everyone else too. 

Javy thanks you by shooting a thumbs up at you since his mouth is full, and you Bradley shyly grins at your kind gesture. 

Rooster then takes a big bite of one of your red velvet cookies and feels a wave of nostalgia hit him right in the chest. 

“Oh wow. This is amazing,” he compliments you, wide eyed.

It tastes so much like his mother’s cookies that it makes his heart twinge. 

“I don’t remember the last time I had something home-made. This is great,” he admits to the group with a smile.

Javy and Jake stills at his statement, knowing the reason why he hasn’t eaten anything home-made in awhile. The duo learned recently that his mother passed not long ago, and his father died in an accident involving Maverick while he was young.

“If you come around here I can whip up something for you. What do you like, Rooster?” you offer, lips pulled into a small smile.

Jake knows that you mean it too. It wasn’t just to make conversation or to distract from the topic—he can almost envision you keeping yourself past store hours to practice new recipes for Rooster. 

“These cookies are great as is.” he returns your smile, appreciative that you didn’t attempt to pry or send him a look of pity he’s grown accustomed to receiving. 

“How about you come around in the morning with Jake? Maybe it’ll count as bonding time to your boss.” you joke.

Jake feels himself choke on his croissant, Javy pushes a cup of water in his friend’s direction immediately.

Jake fervently nods his head no at your statement after clearing his throat with water. 

“Jacob Daniel Seresin.” you scolded, appalled by his manners. 

Bradley smiles watching the once cocky pilot he knew shrink in his seat like a kicked puppy as you stare him down. 

“Sounds good.” Rooster agrees to watch Jake sulk further. 

“Hey are you guys coming down to the Hard Deck next week? Phoenix convinced Penny to reserve the space for just the navy Friday night” Rooster suddenly brings up, picking up another cookie for himself.

“Oh. Yeah I’ll be there, what about you two?” Javy looks at you and Jake. 

Jake can practically see the wheels in Javy’s head turning and he wants to splash the rest of his water on him to halt his scheming.

You bite down on your tongue, a nervous habit you could never rid yourself from. Jake has never really brung you around his friends, besides Javy and now Rooster. He knows you run on the introverted side, you’re comfortable meeting others in small intimate settings like this. But a bar–the Hard Deck? Full of boisterous members of the navy running on a couple beers? Jake even grows nervous for you.

“What do you say Hangman? We can have her as our plus one.” Javy offers, slightly provoking Jake.

He looks over at you, trying to decipher your expression but it's unreadable.

“If that's okay with you guys?” you combat his nervous stare with a smile, reaching down to play with his fingers that were currently splayed on your knee. 

Jake relaxes a bit, feeling your fingers twist at his graduation ring–but the anxiety still sits at the back of his throat like bile.

You don’t want to disappoint Jake and rudely decline the invite. That was probably the last thing you wanted. 

Who knows? Maybe you’ll have fun since Jake and Javy will be there. It’ll be nice to see Jake spend his weekend outside the walls of your apartment for once. You’ve been feeling guilty for keeping him inside so much, although he insisted there wasn't a place he’d rather be.

But you knew deep down, Jake was much more of a social butterfly than you were. He would thrive at a bar filled with people. Your chest warms, knowing that in a room full of others, Jake will always manage to shine and cast his presence onto everyone there like a mirrorball. 

“I’ll take that as a yes” Javy grins as you both stare back at him. 

Within the following days, Jake learns that he has to share his mornings before work with both you and Rooster. 

He tries his best to be civil, making small talk with the two of you but he can’t help but to feel like he was kicked to the curb. His involvement in conversations grows less and less by the day, yet this doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You’ve attempted to pull Jake aside a few times but he insists that he and Rooster are already running late to base–leaving you defeated as you watch him walk past customers and make a beeline for the exit. You know there’s something clearly bothering him and you grow increasingly worried, watching him retract from you like this. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jake has the same worried feeling weighing down on him. 

Everyday, as you speak to Rooster–Jake takes the time to study your face, admiring your features, trying to commit them to memory–worried that one day he won’t get to see your face as often anymore. He feels his heart sink the second he looks over to Rooster and sees that the brunette has the same admiration for you in his eyes. 

The feeling grows worse by the second–and Jake is unsure of what to do with himself.

You even tried to talk about it with him–but for some reason-Jake uses every excuse in the book to avoid the problem. Jake Seresin, a man who thrives off the thrill of confrontation can’t fathom the idea of having a possibly confrontational conversation with you. All because he doesn’t want to hear about what you think about Rooster. He doesn’t want to hear an ounce of praise for the man to leave your lips. He doesn’t want to learn that you grew close with Rooster like how you’ve grown close with him. It’s better if he doesn’t know anything, that would hurt less. 

This morning he finds himself standing next to Rooster, dozing off as the mustached man animatedly speaks to you, his muscled body leaned over the counter you worked behind. The scene in front of him makes him feel so nauseous that he hasn’t even made an attempt to taste his latte, afraid that he won’t be able to stomach it. 

“Jake?” you softly called out to him, pulling him out of his haze. 

He looks up from his coffee and meets your stare from across the counter, he sees you bite down on your tongue–a nervous habit of yours. He feels even more sick. 

“Am I still coming over to your place on Friday to get ready with you?” you look up at him hesitantly, afraid he’ll deny your request.

He feels guilt coat the roof of his mouth. You looked so scared to speak to him.

“Yeah I’ll see you Friday, Angel,” he assures you.

Your heart twists sadly at the term of endearment. 

“And we’ll talk then?” you ask.

“We’ll talk then,” he reiterates.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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not my gif! if anyone knows the creator please let me know!!

[quoththemaiden]

I hope everyone enjoyed the finale of @mrghostrat's Big Name Feelings Good Omens AU as much as I did. While ghostrat ended his story perfectly with a beautiful and realistic close to the part of their relationship we as an audience get to see, I had one more scene idea close to my heart and so I'm putting it out here because my heart still sings with love for this story and its characters.

These fanscenes now also appear on AO3. Along with the four I've already posted here (1, 2, 3, and 5), you can find a scene I kept off Tumblr ("Ch. 12"). You can read the final scene ("Ch. 17") below, but you can also find it on AO3, where it shows the text messages in graphical form.

Bilv, thank you once again for creating such an amazing story! I'm happy to say that my mind is no longer filled with your middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man problems. Instead, please enjoy these 3k words of pure fluff.

—

Crowley dumped his bag on the hotel room floor and did a lazy spin to take in the space. "Not bad, eh?"

"It's very posh," Newt agreed, setting his bag down more gingerly. "You're sure we can't pitch in for it?"

"I'm not dealing with you setting your phone on fire trying to do a transfer." Crowley waved the offer off and flopped onto the couch. The hotel suite had two small bedrooms plus a nice little sitting area that would be perfect for board games. It was set up to mainly accommodate a family with kids, albeit a family that could afford to splash on a multi-room suite for the family vacation to Spain. Crowley stretched out, shamelessly taking up the whole couch in a bid to ease the stiffness in his hips. "Tell ya what, if you're feeling guilty, you can buy my drinks tonight."

Anathema laughed and gave Crowley a poke in the side, looking quite satisfied at his jerk and yelp. "Knowing you, that will end up being a fair deal. And I'll take care of renting the wheelbarrow to cart you back here."

Crowley rubbed his side dourly. "Maybe I preferred you on the other side of the ocean."

Anathema grinned at him, unrepentant. "If you want to stay at my place while I'm here, I'll lend you my keys." She ducked a thrown pillow with a laugh.

—

The weather was perfect for sipping cocktails outside, and their mutual agreement to all try drinks they'd never had before helped keep the night from slipping away from them too quickly. Being able to chat without the artificial framing of a webcam was a delight, too, but all of them were too continuously connected to be interested in a strict phones-down policy.

Anathema rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink before answering the text that had just popped up on her screen.

Aziraphale: Are you certain he doesn't know I'm nearby? Anathema: I didn't tell him, Newt doesn't know, and he doesn't have a magical angel-detecting sense does he? Aziraphale: I'm not so sure about that last point. Some of his last texts seem awfully pointed. Anathema: You're being paranoid

Anathema slipped her phone away before leaning over to look at Crowley's phone screen, where he was lining up a very artistic shot of his drink, showcasing as much of the swanky beachfront seating area as possible. She blinked at him slowly. "Have you been sending Aziraphale 'wish you were here' texts?"

Crowley glanced at her sideways, his thumb paused over the shutter button. "Maybe."

Anathema sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Are you an adult who can handle a vacation with friends or are you going to pine after your boyfriend all night?"

"I'm here, aren't I? It's not like we're tied together at the hip."

Anathema shook her head in fond exasperation. "Getting these printed on postcards for him would be funnier than this text spam." Crowley barked out a laugh and sent Aziraphale his next promise to take him here sometime anyway.

Anathema pulled out her phone again, tapping out a quick message.

Anathema: He says he's a full-grown adult who can handle being away from you.

There was a pause before Aziraphale responded to her — probably due to dealing with a barrage of messages from Crowley.

Aziraphale: A very convincing claim.

Anathema looked up as Crowley put his phone away. "All done?"

"Yeah, he's taking an early night." Crowley took a languid sip from his drink.

"How have his workshops been going?" Newt asked, fiddling with a vibrant russet cocktail in a type of glass he couldn't name.

"Good!" Crowley's eyes lit up with excitement, his cheeks pink. "We polished his presentation before he left—"

"I heard about that!" Newt cut in. "He said it was more like beta-testing than beta-reading."

Crowley snorted. "If you want to see what happens when someone goes against the script, I'm your guy."

"The reception's been okay?" Anathema asked. "I know getting audience participation at workshops can be pulling teeth."

"Nahhh, it's different in the library world. Those weirdos actually care about their jobs."

"So do I, but it would be pulling teeth to get me to do a 'group active learning exercise.'"

"Fair." Crowley grinned. "They know how to talk like humans, then. And they really are interested in anyone with tips on how to break into digital spaces in an authentic way."

Newt hummed thoughtfully. "He's really okay with talking about his online presence at work like that? I'd be way too embarrassed."

"Nah, you stop caring about that stuff when you get older."

Anathema snorted. "I'm still saying it's pure luck you didn't chase him offline again with that con nonsense."

"Pfffft." Crowley made a sound that was all plosives and no vowels. "Never even close."

"Right," Anathema replied with tasteful sarcasm.

Crowley cut her teasing short by slapping a yellow canvas pouch down on the table. "C'mon. Let's play a game!"

"Oh, Bananagrams!" Anathema accepted the diversion and unzipped the banana-shaped bag, pouring the Scrabble tiles out between them. She deftly started flipping them letter side down. "I don't think Newt's played?"

Crowley nodded and waggled his fingers at the pile of tiles. "Rules are easy: Everyone's building their own board-free Scrabble grid. You start with 21 tiles. Say 'peel' when you've used yours up to make everyone take another tile from the stock. Say 'dump' to trade one of your tiles for three from the stock. The first person to say 'peel' without enough tiles left for everyone to take one wins. Simple, right?"

Newt nodded slowly, watching as Anathema divided the tiles out neatly. "So they're putting Scrabble in bananas these days."

—

Aziraphale: Is he up yet?

Crowley gestured Anathema towards the table where their phones sat in a cuddly pile of charging pads and wires. "You got a message while you were in the shower. From Aziraphale?"

Anathema kept her face carefully schooled as she sauntered over and picked up her phone, using the need to adjust her towel turban as an excuse for not making eye contact. "Mm." She picked it up and read the incriminating message, then snorted. "Bracing himself for when your wall of texts will start, I imagine."

"Nahhh, he loves it!" Crowley snagged the glasses cleaner out of his bag and sauntered into the bathroom. He'd be wearing them all day and he'd murder someone if he had to deal with the scummy film left by hotel soap.

"Whatever you say, lover boy." Anathema breathed a tired sigh.

Anathema: Yeah, and he saw this. We should be at the conservatory by 11

She should have just taken the phone into the bathroom with her, steam be damned.

—

The botanical conservatory was, frankly, gorgeous. The greenhouses were so large the ceilings weren't even noticeable, and the outdoor gardens were a riot of native plants. Crowley devoured the signs about plants he was unfamiliar with with gusto, and pointed out those he recognized with the enthusiasm of a man determined to prove he wasn't hungover. Newt listened with unfeigned interest, while Anathema wasn't shy about slowing them down to take photos of particularly artfully arranged displays.

They'd been there about half an hour when a patter of English broke through the background chatter of Spanish. "Could you spot me the entrance fee for the butterfly room?"

"Aziraphale!" Crowley immediately spun to his right, his whole face lighting up in delight before realizing that seeing him here was, in fact, quite odd. "What are you doing in Spain?"

"I left right after my last workshop. I thought it might make a nice surprise."

"It made the best surprise." Crowley pulled him into an ardent kiss that went on long enough for Anathema to cough something about public displays of affection. Crowley eventually relented on the kiss, as much for the sake of their breathing as anything else, but kept his arm slung firmly around Aziraphale's shoulders. "You're a bit of a bastard, you know that? I could've been looking forward to this the whole time."

"Only as much of a bastard as you deserve," Aziraphale teased right back with easy familiarity. His heart kept pounding hard anyway.

"Heh. What a way to butter me up while you're angling for a free ticket." Crowley snuck another kiss onto Aziraphale's cheek. Aziraphale laughed as he slipped his arm through Crowley's, relishing the contact after their weeks apart.

The butterfly room, when they got in, was a riot of fluttering wings. The promise of iridescence was enough to get Crowley to remove his sunglasses, and a quiet compliment on his eyes from Aziraphale was enough to get him tucking them into his pocket instead of putting them right back on afterwards.

They left the butterfly room — with some careful mutual inspections to make sure no one was harboring a stowaway, involving perhaps a bit more care in running fingers through another's hair than was strictly necessary for the task — and emerged near the exit to the rose garden. Crowley's hand moved towards his sunglasses but Aziraphale put his hand on his arm. "Just a couple more minutes? There's something I want you to see first." Aziraphale glanced over at Anathema, who nodded slightly but otherwise kept her expression carefully uninterested.

Crowley looked between them and shrugged. "Not exactly subtle as far as hangover tests go, but a'ight." Aziraphale laughed breathlessly and kept a firm grip on his arm, drawing him deeper into the garden.

The rose garden featured small offshoots to the main path where groups could sit for a little while to rest. It wasn't until the third one that they came upon an alcove that was empty, and Aziraphale promptly pulled Crowley aside, Anathema holding out her hand to keep Newt just outside it with her.

"Crowley—" Aziraphale began, his breath catching in his throat as he caught Crowley's full attention. "I, ah. I actually came here because there was something I wanted to say."

Crowley's hand twitched reflexively towards his glasses again, but this time he kept it down himself, even as his heart started to pound. "...yeah?"

"Yeah," Aziraphale breathed out as he sank to one knee, reaching into his pocket. His fingers were trembling, and his smile was nervous but so very adoring. "If I ask you something, will you promise to laugh?"

"—huh?" Crowley blinked in confusion, then stared as Aziraphale opened a jewelry box to reveal a simple ring.

"Anthony J. Crowley, would you be my snouse?"

It took a few seconds for Crowley to register any of the words Aziraphale had just said, but then he barked out a laugh as the last one hit him. "Really? That's how you ask?"

"You don't like it?"

"I just... I thought if you did it, you'd do a whole speech for it. You even brought us out to a rose garden!"

"I'll be honest, I had one of those planned. I just... couldn't quite seem to bring it to mind." Aziraphale had no idea how he was managing to talk even as much as he was around the tightness in his throat. "You haven't answered my question, dear."

"Pfft..." Crowley closed both his hands around Aziraphale's. "Yes. Yes, of course I'll be your... your whatever. Forever and always."

"Thank goodness." Aziraphale half rose and was instead greeted by Crowley also kneeling, both of them moving together for a kiss that was slow and deliberate. Aziraphale could feel the pounding of his own pulse against the tight hold Crowley had on his hands, and he could tell how Crowley's heartrate had risen to match his by the way their kiss kept shifting for quick intakes of air. Aziraphale finally broke the contact only so he could gently extricate his hands from Crowley's. It took every scrap of concentration he could scrape together to find Crowley's left hand and slip the ring onto his finger. "...it fit okay?"

"Nggh," Crowley replied before pulling him into another kiss.

They might have stayed there all day if Anathema hadn't cleared her throat — snapping another quick photo as they looked up at her, flushed and frazzled. "We are still in public, I'm afraid."

"Yeah," Crowley breathed.

"Huh..." Aziraphale added, just as coherently.

Newt shook his head at the unlikely prospect of them getting up anytime soon, and looked over at Anathema instead. "How were you so prepared?"

Anathema flashed him a smile. "I knew this was coming. Aziraphale asked me to take the photos."

"Is that why you're here?"

"It was the other way around," Anathema replied. "Aziraphale realized he could arrange his schedule to join our trip partway, and we worked out how to take advantage of the situation."

"Bastard," Crowley muttered in response to nothing and everything, pressing tender kisses to Aziraphale's left ring finger like he could imprint a ring there with his lips. "Did you measure my finger while I slept?"

Aziraphale smiled as he watched him, his heartrate finally settling closer to normal under Crowley's reassuring touches. "It's scarcely my fault you're so easy to send to sleep, dearest."

"You're ridiculous. Adorable. Incorrigible."

"Are those all synonyms in your mind?" Aziraphale leaned in to steal another kiss.

Crowley laughed breathlessly at how easily they'd returned to comfortable teasing and carefully pushed himself up. He tugged his clothing straighter and tried to pretend he was put-together as he glanced at Anathema, who was grinning unabashedly at them. "I'll want those pics for... for everything. All of them."

Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley's arm for support as he straightened his own creaking knees. "I'm claiming Tumblr first, if you don't mind."

"Eh—" Crowley gave him his full attention again, not that it had strayed for more than a moment. "This will really get you notice, Angel."

"Good." Aziraphale took Crowley's hand and leaned in to kiss him. He rubbed his fingertip over the ring settled firmly onto a finger that had never borne one before. "Let them know who's claimed you."

Crowley snaked his arm around Aziraphale's neck, chasing down another kiss that went on long enough to have Anathema clucking behind them. "We're gonna get kicked out of the garden, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled against Crowley's lips. "Let them. The one we made is better."

—

Three bottles of wine sat open and mostly-drunk on the table, divided between four glasses that were using the remnants of the previous night's game of The Quiet Year as a coaster. ("We set it in an idyllic countryside and it all went downhill from there," Crowley had explained when Aziraphale came in and started examining the hand-drawn map. "I think the arrival of the dog was the real turning point to madness," Newt had chimed in. "It was doomed from the start," Anathema declared with a resigned sigh.) The red rings of wine stains could have added as much to the group narrative as anything they'd purposefully drawn.

"I came in like a wrecking ball~! I never hit so hard in love~!" Newt sang raucously, a broad grin on his face while Anathema laughed into her hand. Aziraphale tilted his head as he watched them, visibly processing the music.

"All the other kids with their pumped-up kicks, you better run—!" Anathema joined in as the tune jauntily transitioned to a new melody. Aziraphale's face froze into an expression of fond but intense confusion.

"Problem, Angel?" Crowley drawled, utterly amused as he watched the tableau.

"I'm fairly certain that isn't how those songs go. And isn't that polka?"

"Never heard of Weird Al? Bit bigger overseas, I s'pose." He gestured to Anathema's phone, which was supplying the impromptu karaoke party.

Aziraphale nodded, confusion dissolving and leaving just a hint of distaste in its place. "And a different generation, I suppose." He took another sip of his wine, a nice Syrah, as the melody shifted to a new and equally abrasive polka.

"I wear your granddad's clothes," the millennials continued singing, until one of them glanced at Aziraphale and started laughing and the other followed suit, wineglass held out in an attempt to insulate it from deep belly laughs. Crowley snagged it deftly and set it on the table, another drop of wine rolling down to stain the paper there. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, much more amused at their drunken good humor than offended.

Crowley patted Aziraphale's thigh. "Want to take the rest of that Syrah back to my room and leave the loverbirds to it?"

"It would still be rather noisy if we stayed here," Aziraphale replied with a tempting smile. "Why don't you come back to mine?"

Crowley leaned forward eagerly, only a fraction away from jumping up at the unexpected invitation. "Oh?"

"Well, the room may not wind up being quite as nice as the one you got, but I thought for our first night together as a formally promised couple..." Aziraphale's smile said everything.

"You're a genius." Crowley kissed his cheek and grabbed Aziraphale's hand to pull him up with him, then firmly refused to let it go despite the challenge of tucking a wine bottle under his arm while juggling a wine glass and his phone.

Aziraphale laughed. "We can take two trips, since you'll want your bag. Did you leave it packed?"

"Like always." Crowley grinned. "Not going to rib on me for that ever again, huh?"

"One occasion of convenience is not worth the wrinkles, my dear," Aziraphale responded with all the primness he could muster around a wide grin.

Crowley laughed and took the opportunity of Aziraphale opening the hotel room door to crowd closer and steal an eager kiss that was just as eagerly given. "You really managed to hold in that you'd gotten us a room all day?"

"I kept the trip secret from you too, didn't I?"

"Age will not wither," Crowley chuckled and nipped Aziraphale's ear. "C'mon, let's see that room. Coming back for pyjamas optional."

The two of them left the hotel suite hand-in-hand, with everything they truly needed already right there with them.

[starzshopoflove]

Read the fine print

(141 x F!Reader)

Notes: This is concept is taken from herethereb3dragons on AO3 following a similar plot concept but not the same. Yes this is a omegaverse story I have no apologizes I wanna feed my brain worms.(Will be switching between first and second person in this writing) Summary: Lost your job after finding out your boss was committing federal crimes and the local economy crashes? Omega Re-housing services suddenly deciding to tighten their requirements? Sick of living in a shitty apartment alone everyday with no one to come home too? No problem! Just become a Contacted Companion to a military group overseas and never look back, full proof planning right?! A/N: This is a more intro chapter idk how to explain it but you'll get it when you start reading

WC: 2.4k

I could’ve been a nurse if I wanted too, or maybe I would have opened a cafe. Probably not, I hate blood, well I don't hate it. I just don't want to be around it everyday, I don't mind a cut or a ugly scab but then again that's always on my body. Owning my own business would stress me out, I can barely handle being 3 days behind on work, imagine not making enough to keep the shop open for another month I’d go into shock. 

On the other hand I’d probably not be in the position I'm in now If I had my own business or hell a medical degree. To be fair I couldn't predict this, I couldn't predict any of this no one could and if they did there’d be hell to pay from every single person in that fat shiny building downtown. Everything happened so fast, the market value crash, our manager getting arrested for embezzlement, the company housing getting repossessed, all our assets getting seized and sold. I wish I could lie and say it was a blur but it wasn’t, call it a trauma response but I remember every detail of that day from the moment the building shut down to signing away my dignity. 

***************************************************************

Everything hurts, your back, your eyes and your legs. Oh yeah and you're sweating, gross right? Isn't it wonderful that they stuck the little archivist all the way in the back of the office in her own little office where she can do all her “important” work. All the way where no one can smell or see where they’re hiding all the omega employees, what a coincidence.

Yeah it's mid september and it's chilly outside but you’re boiling in here now and  the fabric of your jumper is sticking to you and everyone in here can smell you now. At this point all you wanted to do was run back to your office, peel off your jumper and wipe away all your sweat while drowning yourself in scent masker. Honestly it's humiliating, getting burnt up in your tiny room then being forced by your superior to trolly off all the files to the accounting department upstairs. 

You weren't in any danger of course most people were civilized and wouldnt attack you on sight or in this case on the whiff of unmarked omega scent. It still worried you, but no one could touch you here, not while you were an employee, not while you were safe under the watching eye of the corporate security cameras watching everyones every move. 

Doesn’t that make you feel a little safer? Always being watched? Yeah they could fire you for the littlest thing but you could be safe. The camera doesn't discriminate, the camera can't lie, the camera shows what happens and doesn't care if you’re Alpha or Omega.That reminder makes you feel a little safer when you're pushing your little cart into the elevator pushing the button for the 26th floor. It's not as hot in here as it was downstairs. 

You lean back a little on the bar between you and the mirror while your eyes stay trained on the little black screen of red letters rolling up as the elevator dragged you upstairs. Do you ever do that thing where you stare at the mirror like your face is gonna change the longer you look at it? You do now. 

Just standing in front of it poking at yourself, making sure there's no crust in your eyes, sometimes bearing your teeth to check that you don't have anything stuck in them. If you know what was going to happen you might have spent longer staring at yourself, capturing the moment maybe. 

You look tired, you are tired. Hollow eyes stared back at you in the mirror forcing you to look at how empty you were from the inside out. It was always day in day out move on. You didn't have time to think about mating, joining a pack hell even having kids. Wake up. Work. Go home. Trash TV. Sleep.

You try smiling and letting that go seeing if it would change anything. It didn't. Mirrors were more indifferent to you. Check if you’re clean and move on with your day not thinking too much about it. Elevators forced you to look at yourself they always do. There's no one else in here but you, the mirror and those 2 doors.

The little hum of mediocre elevator music churning out whatever pop tune combination the media had coined dead would be your last unknown moment of peace. 

When those elevator doors opened and you pushed out your little cart all you felt was the sudden slam of a body knocking your poor cart away. That alone ripped you out of your tired little haze forcing you to look around the room and see what was actually happening. 

The accounting department of U&G Food Supplising Inc.? In shambles 

The air of the floor felt thick, suffocating. Too many people were up out of their chairs, people were paired off to the side staring into their papers like life was drained out of them. Pale faces, and sweaty hands clambering around wire phones tuned out voices shouting into their speakers. The stress off of them was enough to start scaring you know. 

It was everywhere, one of the brokers was seated back in his chair holding papers in both hands with his phone pressed onto his ear yelling incomprehensible jargon into it while his eyes dizzied out on the papers he was holding. Others looked like they already lost hope standing in the middle with empty blank expressions that told you enough, they were probably savoring the last few moments of normalcy. 

A heavy buzz cut the air and that's when everything stopped. The market just closed, everything was so quiet. People stopped talking, staring at the big screen hooked up on the wall where a chart was displayed with its thick red line descending into the negatives. 

Papers were in the air, Phones were rattling off like crazy, Desks were flipped over and files covered the floor. Out of panic you might have started slamming the button on the elevator faster but you got the other side of the coin and was stumped in shock and maybe a little anger. 

All you wanted was a quiet boring life, is that so much to ask for? You got your degree in the most boring field possible, you got a job at the most mundane company that would hire you, you got a quiet little apartment tucked in the dreary part of town where nothing happens and you thought you finally won. Small victories you thought, I wont get forced to mate with anyone here, I can pass as a beta here, I can, I can, I can't. 

In hindsight you should've seen it coming, Omega Rehousing Authorities were getting stricter, The company was losing money and you were ignoring all of it. Until now where you were trapped in the corner of the accounting department where everyone was screaming and panicking when all you were trying to do was bundle up all your files and run back to your stuffy little room. 

Staying on the ground was safer then standing up I think, you can just stay down here on your knees trying to gather all the papers you can so you can slam on the elevator as hard as possible to get you back to safety. Yeah! Just keep grabbing papers, don't think about the Alpha across the room practically tearing out that betas throat, or those 2 slightly to your right scruffing at each other to grab as much cash as possible. You won't get in trouble right? You're just an archivist delivering papers, you don't know what's happening but that's a good thing. You don't know what's happening and it's bad because now you're holding all your papers to your chest and you don't have any scent masker practically leaking your scent everywhere while there's so much yelling.

Keep ignoring it you’ll be alright, there's police here but they're not here for you, keep ignoring it. Yes the screaming and yelling is getting louder while there are people getting arrested but you're still under your illusion of safety so keep ignoring it. There's nothing wrong, get your papers and leave there's nothing wrong you can't hear anything no one's calling your name just stand up and leave.

But there is someone calling your name, your full name.  With your Identification number. 

Pulling your head up felt like dragging it out of water and meeting the eyes of 3 ORA agents in crispy black suits and sunglasses did not help with your anxiety when you were stuck down on the floor. 

“We’re with the Omega Re-Housing Authority, we’d like to speak with you” 

_____________

That's when everything started moving faster and phasing out until I realized I was in a new room. The room felt sterile, steel table, plain gray walls, the uncomfortable plastic chair I was stuck in. My heart was rattling inside my chest and I kept breathing in for more air but every breath felt stale and dry no matter how many times I sipped at the little plastic cup they gave me. 

Why was I here? What did I do? I didn't know what was going on, I had all my paperwork, I had a job and a house they can't take me away can they?

That creaky door opening and shutting dragged my attention away to the ORA agent in front of me. They look less threatening without the glasses, it doesn't help much but seeing their eyes makes them look more human. He looked like he was pitying me and that just made the bile in me churn, I felt like I was in trouble. 

He took his seat right in front of me, placing down a plain manilla folder on the cold steel table before he folded and placed his hands on top. God, when he looked at me I thought I was gonna be sick. I bet he could feel the fear weeping out of me, I didn't have anything on me. I didn't feel safe without my scent masker or some sort of suppressant. I didn't make it this far passing as a Beta without them, now I felt like I was waving a white flag screaming Omega.

All the anxiety from years of drifting through life poured through you since you got your class as omega. You wanted to hide in a thousand layers never to be seen again. Where no one could see, touch or hear you. An isolation but a safe comfort like how you made your home. The one you will shortly no longer be able to afford. 

You tried making friends you really did, you had friends but then something inside you would rear its ugly head out and whisper for you too leave them alone how much you're bothering them can't you see?

 So you would let it slip through the cracks. One missed plan turns to another and suddenly you spend every afternoon curled up on your beat couch watching drag reruns on cable tv in your dingy apartment thinking this is better than being out and feeling your stress turn your guts around.  

Now look at you! Sitting in a ORA “interview room” probably about to be shipped out to some random alpha in the middle of nowhere shucking corn for the rest of your life popping out babies you can't afford. The worst part is no one would notice! 

“You’re not in trouble Ma’am”

‘Yeah thanks for that buddy.’ I wish I could say that but I just kept staring at him, more watching his lips move than hearing him speak. I caught some words here and there of “Bankruptcy” and “Liquidation”. By the end of it from what I can tell is Im unemployed and soon to be homeless. I could move in with my mom, or maybe my sister then ORA couldn't relocate me at least, they won't have the chance to. 

The last time I sent my papers my mom passed as the register on my guardian substitute. I'm not sure if they’ll take it again, Beta guardians work but If regulations keep changing they might start demanding she terminate her rights and they assign me to an Alpha. 

How sick is that? I spend my whole life fighting tooth and nail acting like nothing scares me, trying to prove I can fend for myself and don't need a pack. I did everything by the book and I still got stuck in the chair everyone told me I’d never end up in.

I should be angry, I should be boiling and here I am shaking like a leaf in this chair playing in the pliant and meek omega stereotype, fantastic.

Sliding the folder over to me on the table the ORA agent opened up the folder, sliding his hands over to his pocket to pull out a fountain pen. He cleared his throat almost condescendingly as he uncapped his pen, tapping it onto the paper in the folder. 

Is it weird I forgot he was there? Everything started meshing together when I heard him say I wasn't in trouble. I mean I didn't completely forget, his scent was basically choking me forcing his presence to be made aware. I'm listening now but I wish I could roll over and sink into the floor.

“ORA would like to offer you an employment opportunity, aboard.”

***************************************************************

 TERMS OF EMPLOYMENT 

1.)i.) Signing party will be placed under the employment of STATION CHIEF KATE LASWELL and CAPTAIN JONATHAN PRICE

  ii.)Singing party will be taken as a pack member to Task Force 141, bearing responsibilities of archival tasks, moral support, and contracted companionship. 

2.) Signing party will be salaried, paid biweekly on fixed income. 

   i.) Signing party will be provided private quarters on base 

   ii.) Signing parties quarters will be located by the nearest employer 

  iii.) Signing party will not be obligated to travel in deployment or relocated without prior consent 

iv.) Signed parties quarters will be furnished as usual, any additions will be added upon request. 

3.) Signed party is under no obligation to complete orders from any authority not listed within this contract. 

SIGNATURE : ________________     INITIALS: ______________

“You gotta be fucking kidding me”

I hope u guys like it please leave a comment if you do and dont be afraid to ask or suggest any ideas you would like too see from me in other works or in this! - lots of love star <3

[osleeplessflowero]

<- First Part 🔒 -> Oneshot Masterpost

time for some answers! that..lead to more questions.

AmalgaMATE

a science sans x amalgamate reader series

The sound of the scanner was all Sans could seem to focus on as Alphys hooked up the machine to give it a test run. The "Insert", or rather, You were waiting behind some glass windows, hands pressed against them as your heads shifted between shapes. Somehow a chill goes down the skeleton's spine at your staring, even though he can't actually feel temperatures. Perhaps that's just an effect you have on him, heart shaped voids where your eyes would be unable to pull away as you observe his subtle movements.

"O-Okay, just hold still and let me look over your soul for a few seconds. Try not to move too mul- much." Alphys' claws can be heard clicking the keys on the keyboard beside her before she presses a button on the machine.

"don't gotta worry too much about that, alphys. it's not like i need to breathe." He simply falls limp where he sits as he feels himself being scanned, Alphys focusing intently on what the machine says. Ooh, he really wants to make a joke right now, but he'd hate to know what could go wrong if she loses focus. Maybe some other time. The two wait in an agonizing silence as the results slowly pull up. Jeez, someone really needs to do maintenance on this..

"Okay, let me take a look at..oh stars." Alphys' brows knit together as she looks at the screen, briefly glancing back at the skeleton.

"you're making me nervous, am i dying or something?" A hint of a chuckle is heard in his voice, but also a small amount of anxiety.

"Well, n-no, but..um..okay. Do you remember the concept of Soulmates that we went over?"

"well yeah. everybody has someone compatible for their soul that they can be bound to, and when a perfect match is found the souls are linked automatically. ..what does that have to do with this?" He tilts his head as he leans to the side, shifting his weight onto one of his hands resting on the seat below him.

She shuts the machine down but keeps the results screen up, shuffling about as she talks. "Those..strings that you saw are all soul links. Links connected to your soul." She turns to face him directly, a serious expression on her face. He freezes, eyesockets going wide in shock.

"..you're saying i have connections to every soul fragment in their body?"

"..Yeah, which means..you're soulmates with the entity." She turns the screen around so he can face it, pointing at each individiual string that's connected from his soul to Yours. Various different colors and styles all link right to him, wrapping around his soul and almost trapping it. "S-Somehow, you've..bonded with every soul here. That is why the entity likes you so much."

"how is that even scientifically possible?" He sits up, adjusting his glasses that had begun to slip and getting off of the chair he'd been sitting in to get a closer look. "how did i manage to bond with a bunch of soul shards we found out and about? i mean, it's not unheard of to have multiple soulmates, but this many?"

He turns back to look at you, watching as your melty grin stretches once you've been acknowledged. Well, it would explain the clingy behavior and why you didn't attack him on sight..

"how could i be bound to that many souls? it's impossible, i can't be..it doesn't make sense." He stares off at a desk in a nearby corner, covered in scattered papers and blue prints for various projects, allowing himself to think.

"I-I don't know myself, it should be impossible. But ten- then..after seeing the results..it's definitely possible now. You're bound." She looks out of the window at You, and You break your staring at Sans, focusing on her as your eyes shift back into circular voids, tilting your head in curiosity.

"i don't get it..there has to be some explanation for this. a mistake somewhere, somehow- why would?.." He puts a gloved hand over his teeth, trying to think of some sort of reasoning, something he's not seeing. But what is it? What is the piece of the puzzle he can't seem to place? He turns back to look at you, watching as your eyes shift back to adoring little hearts. He walks over to the glass without a word, standing behind it as you perk up, gently pressing various shifting hand shapes against it with a wide smile.

"Wh-When you find your soulmate..o-or soulmates, in this case..you're bound for a long time, Sans. And..I think you two are gonna be stuck with each other for a long time." She joins his side, looking at You as you lightly hit the glass, wanting to go inside.

"what am i going to do, al?" He lowers his hand, eyes softening as he looks over you. She sighs, putting a hand on his shoulder and waiting for him to turn to look at her. She looks back at you for a moment, before shifting her gaze back to him.

"Well, for now..we just need to keep working and observing it until we can figure out how all this mess works. M-Maybe there's a chance you can detach somehow! Or..figure something else out! Something..something crazy, b-but possible!"

"i guess we'll have to see, huh?" He puts his hands in his lab coat pockets. Alphys removes her hand, walking over to fully shut down the scanning machine and push some of the previous scientist's journals out of the way. He walks over to the door, letting it scan one of his eyelights before exiting. You're on him in mere seconds, clinging to him like a cat to a scratching post. He lets out an uneasy chuckle, still not quite used to this sort of thing.

"hey. i'm back now." He reaches up to pet your rapidly shifting heads, having a bit of a struggle as your heights constantly change. "you okay? ..all of you?" He pauses, hearing something muttered from your mouths and freezing. ..He didn't think you could speak. "hey, i..i couldn't hear, can you say that again? try again."

"Ssss.." You strain yourselves, voices changing between different pitches and having the tone of a whisper. "Saaaans.." A wide smile crosses your faces, pleased at your discovery. He lets out a little amused huff, stepping back a little.

"so you can talk, huh? well.. you're progressing similarly to the others, at least. won't be long before you can say full sentences again. if you keep working at it, that is."

"Saaaans. Saaaans? Saaaans!" Giggles of differing pitches erupt from your mouth as you cling to him again, Alphys shaking her head as she exits the room behind you both.

"They're like a puppy." She smiles, observing your behavior. "Only without the licking and biting part."

"hey, don't jinx it. they might try it." Sans warns, earning a laugh from the lizard as they both begin walking down a long hallway, motion lights activating above as they pass through. They both find themselves staring off into space as they walk quietly, sounds of content coming from you. Alphys simply types away on her phone, probably to Undyne, Sans thinks. All of a sudden, he feels a sharp pain.

"ow-" He looks over to see your forms biting onto his shoulder before he quickly pulls you off, holding you up by the scruff of your melty neck as you let out sounds of discontent. "no biting, that's bad."

Alphys lets out a laugh, barely able to contain herself. "IT ACTUALLY- IT ACTUALLY BIT YOU-" She wheezes, holding her chest. "Oh my stars, I'm gonna pass out!"

"shut up, al." He murmurs as the three of you enter the elevator to go down a floor. It's quiet for a bit before Alphys perks up, putting her phone away.

"You know, I see what you mean about the lack of elevator music now."

"right? it'd make it a lot less creepy, that's for sure. just goin' in here and listening to..i dunno, casual bongos."

"Bongos? Sans, please. I am not playing bongos in here." She puts a hand on her hip.

"don't hate on them, you just can't handle their power." Sans finally puts you down after a hot minute, and you go right back to clinging to his back. "plus it's funny."

"Oh my stars." She pinches her nose in frustration as the doors open, and the two scientists enter the new hallway. Machinery can be heard moving nearby, likely for Mettaton's routine maintenance. As to which Mettaton? They have no idea. But it's one of 'em.

Sans perks up to make some sort of robot joke, but pauses when the sound of something moving in the air vents interrupts the peace. You perk up, heads all turning to find the location of the sound, before detaching from Sans quickly. He holds out an arm in protest, but is unable to stop you as you go to hunt down whatever it may be.

"that's..probably not good." A bead of magic sweat rolls down his skull, Alphys facepalming shortly after.

"Why did you let it go?! C-Come on, we've gotta find it before it hurts one of the other patients or something." Alphys grabs her phone, opening an app so she can see her security cameras, trying to pinpoint your location. Sans follows the trail of goop you left behind, running after it quickly.

"hey! don't go chasing after stuff, get back here! you don't have enough HP to go running into danger right now!" He shouts at the ceiling, hoping you can hear him from wherever you are. The noise in the vents is much louder, the movement of what sounds like multiple figures able to be heard echoing as the chase proceeds on. The sounds finally stop near a keycard locked room, Sans opening it almost immediately upon hearing a loud crash. He pops his head in, turning on the light with a worried look, before letting out a sigh of relief.

You sit in a little goopy, shifting blob as the patient "Endogeny" sniffs you, barking happily at the fact that it's made a friend. You simply remain still as it seems to "sniff" you, despite having no nose on its body whatsoever, before lying down on the ground beside you, various legs and all.

"thank the stars it was just endo. so that's how something kept getting into the dog food, it's been going through the vents." He pops his head out. "al! it's okay, it was just endo!"

"Are you serious? How did a dog that BIG get into the vents?"

"i dunno, but that's what happened. they're fine now, everything's good."

"Thank the stars..they almost gave me a heart attack. Remind me why I'm working down here again?"

"because we've experienced The Horrors and have to live with that for the rest of our lives?"

"Oh yeah. True."

"Sans? Are You In Here? You Didn't Come Home For Your Break, So I Decided To Visit And Ensure You Are Alright!" Papyrus' voice echoes through the hall. Sans somehow pales despite literally being a white skeleton, tensing before shutting the door. Alphys looks at him worriedly.

"papyrus can not know about this situation right now. just let me handle this, watch over them okay?" He rushes away before she can respond, leaving her frozen in place as she slowly looks into the room you're in. You press your faces against the glass abruptly, causing her to scream and jolt backwards, before she regains her composure. You let out a series of distorted laughs as she sighs, putting her hands on her hips.

"A-Alright, you troublemaker. You're gonna have to get used to me one way or another, and if this is how it'll be then so be it."

You grin smugly at her, Endogeny comically rising up behind you so it can look outside too. Such a good dog. Dogs? Something like that.

"okay sans, just act natural, it's your brother. your brother that does not know what you have been doing with human souls and does not know that those souls are your soulmates now. just act..natural." He opens a door, being greeted with the face of his younger brother.

[explodingfurby]

THE PEOPLE WANT ART!

Ok so idk if I've posted any of this before so if you've already seen it... no you haven't.

First up we have the projects I'm currently working on:

so this is a mourning dove stamp I'm doing, hopefully it turns out well. The other things are ceramic garibaldi buttons but they haven't been glazed yet.

Next, some prints:

yeah so there's the garibaldi one (can you tell what my favorite fish is), the sentient caracal skull, the school of fish, and the IKEA lion. the last one was my best attempt at lithography. if anyone has tips on how to get my aluminum foil lithography looking better please feel free to share!

next is this zine i made a while back:

okay so idk why the back is sideways but okay. also sorry i didn't put a full description in the alt text but i am NOT typing all that i am sorry my hand will fall off

this zine was actually really fun to make. i would make more but i don't have any more magazines besides cooks illustrated and the atlantic 💀

next is uh. strange things.

i know i've already posted this but i need you to see it again.

now here's my cardboard man. he looks like a hunting trophy idk.

now this will be a shirt eventually, it's just i only have one screen for my screenprinter and i've already got "ford f150-chan gets rejected by volkswagen-san" on there and i don't want to take it off.

Keep in mind i don't know polish.

ok now for the normal stuff:

i would post the reference image for this but i can't find it anymore 😭. anyway i found white and black oil paints at a thrift store and i've always wanted to try oil painting so i just found a reference and just. did that.

man this is an earring of my fish frankie but she just died though :(. its acrylic paint on a bead and then covered in nail polish. i now have a paradisefish named king ghidorah and hes such a bitch lol.

yeah i did make this not that long ago but the cat spilled my water and it was sitting on my dresser, so some of the wood stain got on it. i keep forgetting to clean it lol. it's irish crochet

and that is everything i can find in my room! because i am not looking through my mess of a camera roll!

[pretty-idol-hell]

Okay, so, here is my PriMagi debut story!!

I arrived at Prism Stone Tokyo more or less straight off the plane, a full day of travel and less than three hours sleep, a complete disaster lugging a big suitcase behind me. It was literally my first stop when I got off the train from Narita (well, after the conbini for a pizza bun).

Upon seeing someone on the PriMagi machine, I decided to get in line for PriPara instead. I hoped the PriMagi machine might be free by the time I was done and I was right! Yes! I really didn't want anyone lined up behind me while I was fumbling through it.

.........

As soon as I put the coins in a new person immediately lined up behind me (godammit).

It was basically an exact repeat of what happened to me during my PriPara debut!!! (Someone breathing down my neck as I clearly have noooo idea what I am doing. I mean... Took almost the full countdown to realize ITS A F*ING TOUCH SCREEN. Uuughgh.)

Also, first version Luna has pink highlights (as seen in the video) because I didn't know how to change it then.

Still, although embarrassing (I didn't even know how to scan the cards....) I guess it was kinda cool to debut at Tokyo Station Prism Stone! (Also reminiscent of my PriChan debut, which was at Prism Stone Nagoya.)

So after this, I checked into my hotel, showered and all that, and went out to find an arcade with more machines so I could work things out. And I did! A Taito station with like six or eight machines AND a recorder!!?! So I sat down, put in my money and realized.... I left my profile card back at the hotel....

So, I decided I would just play one game with Auru and then move on. But then this came out of the machine.

Naturally I wanted my character to wear it immediately.

I thought about just making another one but... in the end, I decided no. NO. You are not abandonding initial PriMagi Luna! She debuted at Tokyo Station Prism Stone!

So, I went all the way back to the hotel, all the way back to the arcade, fixed my highlights, learned how to scan cards...

And slowly began to work out the other mechanics of the game.

I also learned that this game gives out URs like candy haha ha... (maybe because it's ending?)

So, first impressions.

I definitely don't like that it costs 200 yen. (All the previous games cost 100.)

But, after playing it's kinda understandable?

I mean just LOOK at these cards. These are actual printed cards from the machine!? How does that work. It's like... ma... magic... (you got me there).

PriMagi also feels like a more umm immersive experience than the previous games? It's LONG. There are a lot of scenes you can skip past, but if you actually watch all of them I feel like it takes at least twice as long as an average game of PriPara.

The rhythm game is kinda random and doesn't flow nearly as well as the previous games. Touch this, now touch that, now touch this. Also, I keep forgetting to select the harder difficulty and the easier one is super boring. Also, I can't figure out the PriMagi equivalent of Cyalume Change (like I mean the button mashing)... my PriPara/PriChan technique hurts my knuckles on the diamond buttons, and my Idol Land technique on the screen is no good either.

And shopping for coords right in the middle of the song? Yeah. HATE IT. I can't imagine ever getting used to that. Even my friend who knows nothing about Pretty Series who was watching over my shoulder was like WTF it's forcing you to pay more? And I was like..... not exactly forcing me...... but............

But.

But the colors, the sounds, the characters. It's all very intoxicating and just designed to draw you in... for some reason 100 yen coins just keep falling out of my pockets... and into this game....

[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul - Part 8 Count on me

Cillian Murphy x OC

Series masterlist

Song: Count on me by Bruno Mars

As usual, we meet new characters 🥰 thank you SO much for your support, for your thoughts and feedback, it means everything 💕

“I won this time.” Cillian approached Marianne after rehearsal, she was sitting in the front row with her laptop on her lap.

“Hey, yeah… someone decided to ask a million questions today and I couldn’t get out earlier.” She explained with a worried expression.

“It’s alright, we need to remember your studies are a priority.”

“But I asked around and apparently, I can change my program to study in a hybrid method, like half my credits online half in the classroom, so I filled a form and they’ll check my status to see if I can fit the program, they’re starting it and only had like two or three students sign up.”

“That’s incredible! I hope you can make the change, but are you sure it won’t mess up with your studies?” He wondered how she’d be able to keep up with everything.

“No, because it’s the same program, professors, well all of it, that way I can have more free time to do it all.”

Cillian crossed his arms. “And what about your tests?”

If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea

I'll sail the world to find you

“I’d take them online as well as the courses.”

“But how? You don’t have to be in the classroom?” He just couldn’t picture it.

“Technically no, they upload the test with four or five possible answers and you get your score right away.” She explained.

Cillian lifted his hands in a surrender motion. “Maybe I’m just too old for this.” He chuckled.

“What? That’s ridiculous… you’re not old.” Marianne shook her head.

“Can’t you see the white hairs?” He huffed taking the seat next to her.

“I have friends younger than me with their entire head white, that has nothing to do with age.” Suddenly she was aware of the masculine scent emanating from Cillian. He was too close. “Anyways let me show you this, I made a budget for the rest of the year so you can use for the different projects.”

As she started to show him a few tools, he was in awe of the information for him; graphics, proposals for the new equipment, an analysis cost-benefit of the upcoming projects, this was mind blowing!

“How the hell can you do that?” He asked squinting his eyes, a deep frown showing.

If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see

I'll be the light to guide you

“What?”

“That thing, when you show me one thing and then another.”

Switching from one file to another, Marianne showed him what buttons she pressed. He made it seem as if she was doing a magic trick.

“Now, if you want to consider buying the equipment overseas, I made this.” She showed him another analysis comparing the investment.

“Wow, this is super organized!” He admitted leaning back looking from the screen to her surprised. “I’m speechless.”

“I tried to make it easy to digest.”

“Thank you, it seems like we both have good news then.”

Marianne saved the document and looked up at Cillian as he stood up.

“Now, come on stage cause I want you to see something.”

“What is it?”

Cillian was pleased to hold it between his hands.

“Guess?” But she couldn’t imagine. “I just got the first printed poster for the promo.” Cillian unfolded the paper carefully and took a few steps back so she could see it completely.

“That’s amazing!” Lee praised joining them on stage, excited to see how everything was developing on time. “Can I take a picture?”

Cillian nodded and raised the poster above his head so it would cover his face.

“What do you think?” He asked moving the paper a bit down, so now only his eyes were poking over it.

Marianne took a moment to register the image, it felt surreal. “I can’t believe this.”

Her green eyes sparkled under the bright lights of the theater. It was one of the photos Cillian took from her as the two roles that represented Adria, looking straight to the camera it was the fearless woman in the red dress in contrast with the woman in the reflection of the mirror with a sad look in her eyes, vulnerable, hit by life over and over.

It was hard to imagine it was the same woman of the script, not only by the character’s differences, but because Cillian had been able to capture Adria’s essence and the gaze from each character when in reality it was the same woman.

We'll find out what we're made of

When we are called to help our friends in need

“It was a good idea ask you to take the photos.” Enda approached them, taking the poster from Cillian’s hands.

“You just did that so you didn’t have to hire and pay for a photographer.” Cillian laughed.

His lifetime pal was right though. “Yeah, but you did a fine work either way.”

Hiding his hands inside the back pockets of his jeans, Cillian looked down. “All credit belongs to Adria.”

Marianne immediately jumped in. “Ah non of that, you were the one making magic with the camera.”

“Right, I’m going to check the sound again, it was horrible today.” Enda adjusted his glasses on his nose and walked away. Once he was out of their sight, Cillian took the permanent marker from his pocket and handed it to Marianne.

“I’ve to be the first one,” Cillian gave her a smile, “can you sign it for me?”

She was beyond surprised, speechless even. His request took her by surprise.

“It should be the other way around, isn’t it?” She raised her eyebrows. “Me asking you for an autograph?”

“Look, as much as I enjoyed portraying a woman in a film, this is a character I’d never be able to play. And unfortunately for you, it’s not my face in the poster, so you’re the one who needs to sign it.” He carefully put the paper on the table in front of them.

“I’ve never signed anything… what do you write?” She looked up at him for guidance.

“Just my initials a circle or a line or whatever…” he chuckled, “but don’t do that, write something nice.”

“Well in that case, I’ll need to take my time to get inspired.” She added with a dramatic hint.

But a phone call interrupted their chat, it was Selene, her classmate, so she moved a few steps away to talk to her. Cillian was trying to define what was happening, because her facial expressions were full of worry.

“Everything alright?” He asked when Marianne approached him again.

“No, we’ve to do a project in teams, but one of the members just let my classmate know he was quitting school, wanted to travel the world and then work in his father’s company.” She sighed frustrated.

“Fuck.” Cillian tried to understand the way she felt.

“My thoughts exactly, now Selene and I have to do everything.”

“What’s your project about? Can I help you in any way?”

You can count on me like one, two, three

I'll be there

She felt a rush of adrenaline, they had very little time to complete the assignment. “We’ve to build a business case about well… a business, doesn’t matter the category, explain the process to the classroom and propose different goals and alternatives to reach them.”

Cillian looked at her trying to figure out a way to help. “Can you use my production agency? My secretary must’ve the monthly balances.”

His proposal made her nod eagerly. “Yes because I could include the investment you did on the play as part of the company to show some way of expansion.”

And I know when I need it, I can count on you like four, three, two

And you'll be there

“Then it’s all set… tell me what you need.”

That’s when Marianne’s smile faded away. “I’d have to ask you for an interview, or you can tell me whoever I can talk to, it doesn’t matter my professor isn’t going to corroborate the authenticity of the job position.”

He realized she was mortified. “It’s no big deal, I’m happy to help.”

We'll find out what we're made of

When we are called to help our friends in need

“Oh my God, thank you! Thank you, it’s only a few questions and it can be just by voice.”she felt at ease when Cillian smiled. “When would you like to schedule it?”

“Right now? Unless you’re busy with something else.”

Marianne could barely hide her excitement, this was extremely important for her and it meant the world that he was willing to help her. “Yes, whenever you can.”

“I‘ll see you kids tomorrow, have a boring meeting with the PR.” Enda waved at them and walked away.

“How about we go to the studio? So you can see where everything is done.” Cillian then asked, taking his jacket from the seat.

“Sure, I promise you it’ll be quick.”

As they moved to the studio, the conversation flowed naturally.

“The other day I was walking down the street, on my way to buy some groceries and I found a little antique shop, there was a beautiful painting, but it was listed as if it was a Rembrandt or a Van Gogh and of course I couldn’t afford it, or I wouldn’t have anything to eat for the rest of the course,” she laughed and the sound caught Cillian’s attention, because it was one of those genuine laughs, “so I showed Lee the picture I took of the painting and she’s doing a replica for me!”

“Really? That’s incredible, I didn’t know she could paint.”

“She’s very artistic, you guys did a great job taking the photos for the promotion of the play.”

Cillian nodded, it was easy to work with her because their ideas matched. “It’s like talent comes naturally in different areas.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I know about copyright and all, but in the art world the prices go out of proportion. And I fell in love with the paint.”

“I can assure you, you’re not the first nor the last one to do it, beside if it ended in an antique store, the original owner didn’t care much about it.”

“That makes me think of the one that got destroyed at an auction.”

“Bansky right?” He immediately recalled watching it on the news, as it was destroyed by a hidden shredder inside the frame. “That was crazy.”

“It was beautiful, simple, but beautiful.” She expressed moving her hair back, a hint of orchids filled the air around him, filling his nostrils. “The little girl, reaching for a balloon that’s floating away…”

“Wonder what was the artist’s intention to do such thing, it’s something stupid right?” He felt comfortable express his thoughts to her.

Marianne shuddered. “Unconventional would be the best way to describe him.”

“Doesn’t makes sense.” He added holding the door open for her. “Nothing makes actually.” The sound of his phone interrupted their chat, Cillian pressed the button to answer, listening to the man at the other end. “So that date works for you?”

Marianne noticed the huge grin on his face as he was humming.

“Alright man, I gotta start scouting locations around and I already have the general idea, the demo is fantastic!” Another pause and he indicated her to turn to her right in the corner. “Talk to you later, thanks Danny.”

Cillian sighed pleased with the information he just got, and turned his head to look at her through his Ray Bans.

“We just signed to produce a music video for a rock band I like, it’s a great hit.”

Marianne now understood his smile. “Congratulations! That’s some great news!”

“Thank you, is a good opportunity.” He was excited about it, but decided to not ask her yet to get involved in the project, not yet.

Arriving at the studio he showed her around first, the cabin where they recorded, the sound machine, it felt like his second man cave.

“Would you like to read the questions first?” She already had a draft, so it was easier to adjust the questionnaire to his business.

Cillian frowned. “No, just shot.”

She chuckled and placed her cellphone between them, setting the recording app. “Starting in three, two, one.”

“Action!” He joked.

“Mr. Murphy could you tell us a little bit about how you started this business?”

“The Mister part made me feel old, can you cut it off?”

Marianna suppressed a small giggle but nodded at him.

“Hi Cillian, thank you for accepting this quick talk, could you tell us about how you started this business?”

Cillian adjusted on his seat and looked up at the silence sign in the corner. “I love my job, but somewhere down the road I stumbled across being behind the scenes, as I started learning what’s happening in the background, th-the things we don’t see on screen, I fell in love with that part of the process.” He looked at her intensely. “But I’m always in one corner, I care too much or I don’t at all,” he chuckled, “so I decided to explore that side of the business because I had a lot of free time and I was a good part of the day in the studio anyways with my stuff. So I talked about it with a couple of friends who are experts in their fields and they were happy to jump in this ship.”

“Can you elaborate a little about your main projects?”

“Yeah, we finance and produce independent films, advertisements, records…”

“That’s amazing, the magic behind the scenes…”

He gave her a genuine smile.

“What was the biggest challenge you faced? The struggle that almost made you quit?”

Cillian leant his body forwards, towards her, one of his hands over his thigh.

“People not believing in my dream, saying it was just one of my hobbies. But it’s always being like that, you know? People never take you seriously until you make it.”

“I’ve seen some of the projects and it’s mind blowing.”

“You’ve?” He asked surprised.

Marianne nodded. “I was curious about the audiobook you recorded and I listened it until like two or three in the morning. I also loved the promo video you did of local food in Ireland, it was mouthwatering. I wanted to take a bite of each plate.” She laughed.

Cillian was taken a back by her words, he didn’t know she had been so involved with his company to the point of seeing the projects. And he rarely got a compliment over it because he was usually behind the scenes.

“I take every project seriously, love being involved in every little detail to be able to deliver a good quality work.”

“What’s next for you?”

“There’s a video already in post production about tourism in the country, the finest places to visit, the hidden little gems… it’s beautiful. We’ll present it to the client in a few weeks and there’s another one I’m particularly excited about, but unfortunately due to confidential agreement I can’t share more at the moment, but it’s about music.”

As they finished working on the questionnaire, Marianne told him she would call Selene, to let her know the interview was done.

“Can I use your laptop in the meantime? I’ll be quick.”

Marianne already had her phone next to her ear, so she nodded before trying to reach her classmate.

As Cillian opened the icon to search, he found her email open already, his eyes were glued in one in particular.

Change of medication?

Cillian moved up to close the tab, but his fingers hesitated. He didn’t mean to intrude in her personal email account, but it caught his attention.

Feeling a rush of guilt, he looked over his shoulder to make sure Marianne was out of sight. But curiosity won him over, he really needed to know why would she need another medication since she never mentioned being sick.

There wasn’t a lot of information, at least it wasn’t clear, she just mentioned feeling her chest tight at times during the night and that she couldn’t exercise because she felt short of breath. The doctor answered he was out of town for a couple of days but would schedule her once he got back.

He also mentioned she should go back to her previous medication and look after any other alarm sign she could notice.

Cillian stared at the screen for a moment, he couldn’t see a signature or phone number. And it wasn’t clear if she was getting any better. Clicking finally on the red x at the top corner, he felt a vein in his temple starting to pulse.

Was her sickness something serious?

Should he worry about her health condition?

“All set, she will take care of the analysis and proposals for the project and I can work on the business case,” Marianne came back with a smile, oblivious of his thoughts. “I was thinking of using the play as my baseline, you’re super involved in the project and I could easily make it fit as one of the ways to expand your company, sorry I’m talking too much.”

Cillian looked into her eyes, debating between asking Marianne directly or not.

****

Next part

A/N: Still with the slow burn… but I promise you, there will be some action, can you feel them more integrated? Let me know!

Tag list: @lyarr24 @gypsy-girl-08 @cillmequick @zablife @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @kettlechips3 @heidimoreton @forbidden-forest-witch @kaitebugg03 @thenattitude @forgottenpeakywriter @onlydeadcells @babaohhhriley @lonelyweeb0044 @lovemissyhoneybee @ange-thoughts @already-broken144 @shelbydelrey @cutecurly-hair @winchestergirl22 @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @lespendy @kittycatcait219 @stevie75 @esposadomd @sloanexx @shaddixlife @rangerelik @peakyscillian @woofgocows @cillianlove @imichelle-l-rigby @emmanuelle19 @sydneyyyya @cljordan-imperium @mrkdvidal1989 @flippittygibbitts @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @elk96 @shelundeadxxxx

[promithiae]

How I thought my day was going to go:

- Move Big Pile of Logs out of the way for the chip drop (very big task)

- Wash the curtains (super easy task! No brainer!)

- Print out pattern (nae problem)

- Organize the knitting basket on the floor because I know my US 4's are in one of the nearly empty project bags (medium task)

- bake something with the bourbon apple butter

How my day actually went:

- moved the Log Pile in maybe 20 minutes! Strong start!

- argue with the screws holding the curtain rods for 15 minutes.

- Seriously why is the screw on the back side of the rod so close to the wall that I can't get a screw driver in there? Why was it screwed in so tight I couldn't hand loosen it???? WHY did I need pliers for this?????

- ALSO why is the curtain rod in the annex a hex slot????? Everything else was a Phillips head! Why was that one the only hex screw? And why don't we have a set of hex keys in the house why are all 6 of them in the garage

- computer thinks printer is off.

- Printer is not off. Printer is fine.

- Have to get the step ladder out to be able to see the tiny screen.

- Poke at it for a while. Unplug it and plug it back in. Try and get it to connect to the wifi. It gets stuck and won't stop so I have to unplug it again.

-Try different method. Same results. No error codes given. Keep pressing buttons.

- Eventually convince it to connect to the wifi and enter the password painfully slowly in a system worse than t9. Print pattern pages

- oh no. The charts are *tiny*.

- it's a gotdang pdf. Can't just print a selection

- argue with acrobat reader and printer settings for far too long

- Eventually decide to take screenshots and crop so I can print as big as possible.

- Set up pattern pages FINALLY

- iron curtains. Takes longer than I hoped but I don't mind ironing

- yay 3 whole tasks done!

- Time for cake!

- Wrong

- too late

- time to start dinner

[iviarelleblr]

Do you have medium of choice, art wise? Are there any rules to what you consider art?

(I'm bored and it got me thinking.)

For things I'm taking in, I find reading non-graphic stuff easier than anything with visuals or audio. Something about my brain wiring, possibly my lack of mental images, means I use far less energy-effort to process material I read as printed words. When all else fails, I can usually read. When I can't read, I know I'm in trouble.

For creating, my preferred medium is knitting. Once in a blue moon I'll write a couple hundred words of standalone, just exploring one sudden flash of inspiration... but most of my creative drive is for fiber art. Knitting's what I'm most familiar with and most comfortable improvising within to meet my project needs, but I'm able to follow a crochet pattern as well as cross stitch, and theoretically embroidery though I haven't done much of that yet at all. I can doodle as long as I have references or can remember enough detail to reconstruct a reasonable likeness but without mental images I get stuck very quickly with making any sort of flat or rendered visual art at scale so I've never spent much time refining those skills. I could probably do audio edited stuff because I could listen for cues, but I would never be able to do video essay type stuff because I struggle to create or conceptualize what images to put on the screen to back up any points I might have.

As for rules... I guess tl;dr art is messy. In my heart, my definition is more restrictive, but I'm trying to pry that space open to accepting damn near anything a person's put thought into. There's the drawing and the knitting and the sewing and the 3D stuff, sure, but I also think there's beauty in a data table. I don't think algorithmically generated images or music are art inherently, because it's not thinking about what to do, it's just procedurally generating what it expects to be the next desired pixel based on what was approved and denied in its training schema, it's following patterns and algorithms not thinking, not creating. It's why I refuse to call these algorithms "intelligent" when they're functionally no different from what existed five or ten years ago, they're just fancier and require bigger computers to run but they're not actually smarter. If they produce anything that humans can interpret as art, it's not because of any algorithm's inherent values, it's because it's interpreting many thousands of pieces of human art, and I think that's an important difference to keep forefront in our dealings. And, that training material raises ethical questions that I think need to be reckoned with before I'd ever feel comfortable with its propagation. But, if a human takes a generated image from an ethically trained algorithm, and recontextualizes it, edits this or that piece of it to make more sense, gives it a title and a placement and a purpose, I think that it can become art, just like humans taking modem noises and making electronic music can become art. Handing a chimpanzee a camera and its finger hitting the capture image button accidentally is not art, but if a chimpanzee could be taught what pictures mean, if they could hit the button with intent to capture that moment, or if a person made some meaningful alteration to the image or like, handed the camera a certain way to ensure they'd capture the image as a candid, I think it could be. It's messy and I don't think I'd want it any other way.

[cricutmachinemaker]

How to Use Cricut Explore 3: An Easy Guide for Beginners

Greetings to all my lovely crafters; I hope you are enjoying the festive season by creating a variety of custom projects with your Cricut machine. Hey, are you a new DIYer and searching for how to use Cricut Explore 3? I am Luna Lovegood, and I am going to be your guardian angel. It's been three years, but it seems like yesterday I bought my Cricut machine and did a lot of research before using it.

I know you might have thousands of questions running through your mind regarding this Cricut machine, but you can't find any exact answer. In this blog, I will share with you the details about this machine. Cricut Explore 3 is now smarter & faster and cuts more than 100+ materials with ease and precision. Besides, it works with 6 different tools and cuts twice as fast as other Cricut models.

How to Setup Cricut Explore 3 on a Computer?

Before gaining info on how to use Cricut Explore 3 to make a DIY project, you need to set it up with a PC. Being your guardian, I must make you aware of the machine setup process with the Windows or Mac operating system. Carefully go through the details given below:

After successfully learning about the Explore 3 setup process, it's time for you to create DIY projects out of this Cricut product.

How to Use Cricut Explore 3 for the First Time?

Following the completion of the machine setup with the computer, I need to ensure that you are well aware of how to use a Cricut Explore 3 machine. Many customized crafts can be made out of this machine within a few minutes. In this section, I am going to share with you the steps of creating a personalized cupcake topper with this craft machine.

Step 1: Sign in Cricut App and Create Your Design

As you can see, I start the process by signing into the Cricut app using my Cricut ID and password.

Alt Text: Enter your login details and sign in to the Cricut app

Now, press the New Project option, and you will land on your new canvas. Next, tick the Images tool and choose the image by entering its code inside the Search field. Following this, click the image and then tap the Insert Image option.

Next, I will select the image and then change its size as per my choice. Afterward, I am going to open the Flip Dropbox and choose the Print option. Following this, I will press the Flatten button under the bottom of the Layers section.

After flattening the design, I am going to select the design and press the Duplicate. Now, I will flip the design to the horizontal given under the Flip Dropbox. I can paste these duplicate designs on both sides of the toothpick.

Step 2: Print Stickers and Choose the Material

After completing the design, I will press the Make It option present on the top right side of the canvas. Now, I will type 24 under the Project Copies and hit the Apply option. Next, I will press the Continue button and hit the Send to Printer option.

Following this, the printer pop-up window will appear on my screen. On the screen, I will get to see my printer model, & total copies and will enable Add Bleed along with the Use System Dialog toggle.

Now, I will wait till my printer is printing the stickers on the sheet. When the process comes to an end, I will unload the sheet from the printer. Simultaneously, I will reopen Design Space and choose the Light Cardstock from the Set Material section. After doing that, I will keep the pressure as default only without any changes.

Step 3: Cut and Weed Out Sticker

After finishing the above-said steps of how to use Cricut Explore 3, I will paste the material on my cutting mat using the brayer tool. Next, I will insert my cutting mat into Explore 3 and press the flashing light to start the cutting process. At this point, I will wait till the cutting process is going on. Following the completion of the cutting process, I am going to bend my mat backward and remove all the stickers one by one.

Step 4: Stick Your Final Design on the Toothpick

In the final stage of how to use Cricut Explore 3, I will take the glue gun and stick both the stickers together. Further, I will apply glue at the bottom of the sticker and place a toothpick in between. Now, I will gently put a little pressure on the cupcake topper correctly, leave it for a few minutes, and let the glue set properly.

After a few minutes, I am going to place my customized topper on your cupcake. Finally, I will distribute them among the kids and let them have this tasty dessert and enjoy the party.

With the help of my cutting machine, Cricut app, and supplies, I was capable of grabbing the majority of content regarding how to use Cricut Explore 3. Other than that, it also enlightened me with my inner talent.

Frequently Asked Questions

Question: What Supplies Come With Cricut Explore 3?

Answer: Along with this Cricut product, you will also get different supplies that will help you in forming the crafts of your choice. However, it's crucial to ensure that you are correctly using the supplies without any mistakes. Have a look at the supply name below:

Question: What Crafts Can I Make From My Cricut Explore 3 Machine?

Answer: Cricut Explore 3 is an ultimate cutting machine that is capable enough to cut 100+ materials with accuracy. Some of the customized crafts that can be made out of this craft machine are as follows:

Question: Is Cricut Explore 3 Worth Buying as a Cutting Machine?

Answer: This Cricut product offers excellent versatility and is an all-rounder while creating customized projects. It can cut every material from thinnest to thickest with its shard-edge blades and tools. Besides, it's two times faster speed and latest updates make it more outstanding as compared to other models. Other than that, Explore 3 works with six different tools and is compatible with the Design Space app.

Visit: cricut.com/setup

Source: https://cricutdesignapp.wordpress.com/2023/12/09/how-to-use-cricut-explore-3-an-easy-guide-for-beginners/

[what-i-call-men]

Sell my soul

Jeff Pfister x fem!reader

Request: "anything with Jeff having a mommy kink"

Warnings: Smut! Some mommy kink (i tried ok), mentions of Michael and selling your soul to Satan

Once again the pic I stole from @copy-of-a-cheeto because they always have amazing pictures

Proof read by @divineruler

Working with Jeff and Mutt could really be challenging at times, especially when they couldn't be bothered to use your help. You hadn't really done much other than help them get their prints down for their robots, then you were demoted to coffee monkey for a few days at a time until one of the men would ask you to interact with one of their robots or help with small useless tasks. Mostly your job consisted of the marketing of their products and the output and delivery of robots they sold.

After Mutt threw a tantrum at you about his coffee order not being right, you finally gave up and walked to your desk that sat in the small room between the lab and Ms. Venable's desk. Pretty much anyone who walked into the lab had to go through your office. Yes it was pretty annoying at times but it was nice sometimes too because that means Jeff had to walk through your office whenever he wanted to go out for any reason. One day particular Ms. Venable let this man into the lab, walking through your office and giving you a kind smile as he walked into the lab.

As he walked past you could feel chills go up your spine and he closed the glass door separating your office and the lab. You stared at him for a moment as he walked up and the men greeted him. You looked at Venable and stood from your desk, walking over to her desk. "Who is that?" You asked and gestured to the glass doors as you sat on the side of her desk. She glared at where you sat but said nothing. "His name is Michael. He's a very powerful man." She said and waved the back of her hand at you. "Now if you'll excuse me I actually have work to get done." She excused you off her desk and you huffed, walking back to your office and clicking around on the website.

You tried to keep your eyes to yourself but you couldn't help but look over at the coconut heads as they talked to this mystery man. More specifically you looked at Jeff. You couldn't tell what it was about him but he seemed so cute and fuckable. You knew you had barely any chance because he could literally make a robot of his ideal woman and have her do whatever he'd like, why would he choose to sleep with someone like you when he could build the perfect woman for himself.

After a few minutes, you were fucking around on your phone before the shades to the lab dropped quickly and then only about a minute later the door to your office opened and Michael walked out with a smile on his face. He looked at you for a moment, stopping in the doorway. You had Jeff's Instagram pulled up on your phone, shamelessly looking at a picture the two of you had taken at some big event for a news website. Michael closed the lab door behind him and looked at your phone where it sat on your desk.

"Do you like him?" He asked and looked down his nose at the phone. You felt the chills run down your spine again. "Yeah... and I just want him to like me back- even better I wish I had the courage to make him like me back." You suddenly found yourself kinda spilling everything to this man without considering it beforehand. "I can help you with that... My father is in a pretty powerful position. We could make a deal and I can get you what you want." He said and walked to where he could place his hands against your desk and lean over it. You swallowed the spit in your mouth and stared at him. You couldn't really say anything but you did nod. Michael grinned and offered his hand to you. "Sell your soul to Satan, like they did, and you can have him wrapped around your pinky plus the courage you need to get him." Michael said and you paused before taking his hand.

He leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand before walking out of the room. You paused for a second and looked down to your desk. You didn't feel any different at first, but then you heard your door to the lab opening. Mutt walked out through the door and nodded at you, saying he was running out to pick up lunch for them, leaving the door wide open behind him. You nodded and spun in your chair for a few moments after Mutt left your office.

That's when you heard Jeff call for you from the lab, so you walked over, already feeling yourself stand a bit taller. "Hey y/n can you help me with this coding? I can't find why I'm getting errors." He said and you walked around his desk looking at his laptop over his shoulder. You glanced over the code realizing really quickly that Jeff didn't fill in parts of the code, just leaving them blank. "You literally didn't fill out the whole code." You said and pointed at the computer screen before looking at Jeff. He was obviously staring at your chest. You smirked a little and played into it. Pushing your hands against the edge of his desk and pushing your breasts together as you leaned forwards to "look at the code".

You pointed to the screen and Jeff didn't look back to the screen from your chest. You stood up and he looked quickly up to your face. "Oh baby if you wanna stare that hard you might as well take a picture." You said and leaned back to sit on his desk. He stammered for a second before spitting out a simple "can you just help me with this?" You shrugged and looked at the computer and he continued to glance between your chest and the screen. After instructing him what to type in, his hands shook as he typed. Eventually you reached forwards and took his hands off his keyboard.

"Jeff, do you want me to help you?" You asked and he nodded a bit. Gently pushing his shoulder back, you moved onto his lap gently, sitting and facing his computer. You typed into the code silently, yet you could feel him adjust against your ass, his very prominent boner pressing against you. You just smiled to yourself as he stammered quietly behind you.

“C-can you help me with something else…” he asked softly, now pushing his blushing face against your shoulder from behind.

“Where do you need my help baby?” You asked, a smirk finding its way across your lips as he pushed against you with his dick. You took that as a sign and stood up, turning around in his lap to straddle him in his desk chair. “You want mommy to take care of your little problem?” You ask, your hand roaming down to gently rub him through his jeans. He nodded and moaned quietly against your shoulder.

Moving yourself up a bit, you unzipped his jeans and moved them down a bit so you could properly rub him through his boxers. God whatever Michael was, he definitely worked a bit of magic to get you to this place. Jeff whimpered under you as you rubbed him through his boxers. “Please…” he whimpered as you moved off of him and back to kneel on the ground between his knees.

As you kneeled down, Jeff hurriedly pushed his jeans down along with his boxers. “Slow down baby, don’t you wanna enjoy this?” You asked in a quiet voice and wrapped your hand around his length. It was harder than you would’ve thought for having just barely riled him up. As soon as you made contact with him his dick jumped and he whined. With that reaction you gripped him a bit harder and began to stroke him slowly, leaning in to lick the precum off his tip and giving small suckles to the tip as his hips bucked against your movements.

As your actions continued, you heard Jeff’s cell phone buzzing against his desk, you two paused to look at it. It was Mutt calling him. “Go on and answer it baby. I’m sure it’s really important.” You whispered and his shaky hand swiped the answer button and put it on speaker.

“Hey bro. They don’t have the sandwich that you usually get. What do you want instead?” Mutt’s voice sounded from the phone. You looked up to Jeff, now fully taking his length in your mouth and sucking on it roughly. He bit back a moan and there his head back against his office chair.

“Dude, h-honestly just get me whatever you got… whatever you got last time. I-It looked good.” He responded and let out a breath as you began to bob your head against him. Mutt paused for a second on the line.

“You said that it smelled like shit and that you hated it. What about that chicken one that you had a few days ago? I can make a stop on the way back if you’d prefer that. I know Y/n likes the soup from that place. Do you know if she brought lunch in today for herself?” Mutt asked and Jeff’s eyes lulled back in his head; both rolling his eyes at Mutt’s questioning but also at you lazily jerking him off as you sucked on his tip.

“Uh, it doesn’t look like it… I’d make the stop and get it just in case.” Jeff responded and as he spoke you doubled down and sucked a bit harder.

“She’s been doing pretty good lately. Can you remind me when I get back that I wanted her to put a new listing on the site? That fleshlight that you designed to look like her will be a top seller bro. And I bet you she’ll be none the wiser that it’s inspired by her.” Man if Jeff’s face wasn’t already beet red by this whole situation it was now.

“Y-yeah dude. I’ll remind you later. I’ll see you when you get back to the shop.” He spit out a quick goodbye and then hung up the phone. You pulled off of Jeff and looked at his face, which now refused to look back at yours. you hummed and stood up from where you knelt. Jeff looked at you quickly, scared you were upset by what Mutt had said over the phone. Instead you leaned against Jeff’s desk, slowly pulling yourself to sit on it. “A-are you mad?” He asked softly, looking up at you embarrassed.

“No, baby. But next time if you want to fuck me so badly…” you said as you undid your jeans in front of him. “Just ask. You don’t need a fleshlight when you can have the real thing.” You said and pushed down your jeans and panties infront of him. Leaning back on the desk, you stared him down. Your own hand came to grab his shaking one, placing it gently against your cunt. “Now how about you go ahead and give mommy a taste.” You said and he was on you in seconds.

You didn’t want to lose your dominance, but the second Jeff’s lips were basically devouring you, you couldn’t help but let out an almost pornographic moan. You’d think the man would be more focused on his own pleasure due to the fact that as his job, but the way he licked and sucked at your cunt told you he might’ve been using that fleshlight for things other than fucking. You reached down and grabbed a handful of his hair as he pushed a finger into you slowly. “Fuck baby. Just like that hun.” You mumbled and threw your head back as he thrust his finger in and out of you in speed with his tongue against your clit.

After not too long you felt your back arch against the cold table and your thighs squeeze around Jeff’s head as you came against his tongue. The moan you let out, you were sure Venable would hear, but honestly you weren’t too concerned about that now. What you were concerned about was Jeff’s face, patchy red and staring up at you from between your thighs. His hair was tousled and his eyes were glossy as he stared at you. “C-can I please fuck you? Please mommy…” He asked as he moved his finger out of you, but instead of fully removing it he moved it to rub your clit slowly.

You nodded at him and he eagerly stood from his chair. Glancing at him you saw a pretty big stain on his shirt and it became obvious very quickly that you were not the only one who came, but he was already hard as a rock again. Smirking silently to yourself, you pulled your shirt off. He looked over your bra clad chest as he adjusted himself between your legs. As he slowly pushed himself into you, you felt him shake a little bit from excitement and nervousness. Pushing in, he leaned over you a bit, silently staring at your breasts as he leaned above you.

“Go ahead baby.” You whispered and almost immediately your bra padding was pulled down and his lips were connected to your nipple, his other hand finding your other breast. He immediately began some small thrusts into you on instinct as he sucked. The thrusts soon became more forceful and purposeful and your moans became a bit more high pitched. You could tell his stamina wasn’t going to let him last long so you would get the most out of this that you can.

Jeff’s eyes were glued to you, hardly able to pull them away for fear that if he did you’d cease to exist. Your moans of his name felt like small blessings from whatever beings were out there and having you wrapped around him was somehow just a pure god send. As you noted his slow in pace, you looked down back to him, gently wrapping your hand around his throat and catching his attention. “Go faster Jeff.” you strained out and squeezed his neck. He obeyed and you leaned up to catch his lips in a kiss as you felt yourself topple over the edge, his own orgasm following only seconds later.

As he slowed, he didn't pull out immediately, instead you wrapped him up in the kiss. You two made out for a moment as you caught your breath. As you slowed and he pulled out, you excused yourself to the small bathroom the men had attached to their lab. After cleaning yourself quickly, you walked out and saw Jeff sitting at his desk again, Mutt walking into the lab almost the same time you were walking out of the bathroom. You smiled at Mutt as he handed you the soup he had mentioned before on the phone. “Thanks Mutt. By the way, it’s bold of you to assume I wouldn’t know what my own pussy looks like. That’s not it…” you pointed at the fleshlight sat at his desk. “Jeff, how about you show him what needs fixing.” You smiled at the men and walked back to your desk, shutting the door behind you.

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

I AM SO SORRY FOR WHAT YOU'RE ABOUT TO READ.

Happy Birthday @goddessofmischief03 I'M SORRY THIS IS YOUR PRESENT FROM ME!

Part 8

The pair of you drove for hours. Zemo didn't care about where you wanted to stop. All you had to do was say the word and he would pull over here and there. You had taken so many photos on your phone. Though a lot of them were just of him. Maybe you would get those printed and make an album. Maybe you were just getting carried away.

The evening rolled in. The wicked woman had texted you an hour ago to state what time she wanted to meet you. Zemo had dropped you off, kissing you before letting you go. He left to meet with Sam, hoping to get his forgotten car back home.

You entered the bar. It was pretty empty, finding her wasn't hard. Lucky for you, she was alone. You took a deep breath as you walked over to her table and sat down, but not even offering her a smile.

On the table right in front of her was a file. That scared you. Whatever this was about, she was serious. You tried to keep your emotions at bay as you sat still, hands in your lap. You stared at her.

She stared back.

"You came," she said, almost as if she expected you not to.

"Of course I did, I'm not a horrible person who stands people up. Even if I'm here for nonsense."

She narrows her eyes at you.

"Neither am I."

"You're right. You're just blind," you cross your arms over your chest and ignore the waiter who brings you each a glass of water.

"I'm not the blind one," she hisses after he leaves.

"No? What kind of sick game are you playing here? Tony Stark isn't in love with you. It's all a publicity stunt."

"It's not!"

"See? You're blind to the truth. You're being lured in by the fact you admire him. You have been a fan of racing much longer than I. You have seen Stark win over and over again, season after season. You're in love with the idea of dating a professional racer."

She looks pissed.

"It's all lies. You know nothing. I'll show you who that man really is. Chasing Zemo is a mistake. You'll regret ever knowing him after you learn the truth."

"What truth? What are you talking about?" You try to resist raising your voice.

"This!" She slams a hand over the file.

"What is it? What's in there?"

She hands the file to you. You take it, but don't yet open it. You stare at her. On the outside you look cold, calculating. On the inside, your heart is racing and a million thoughts are running through your head. You're freaking out.

"What had Helmut Zemo told you?" She asks, looking you in the eye.

"About what?"

"About him."

"Not a lot. He is wealthy. Has houses all around Europe, owns a large collection of cars that have been passed down through his family. He doesn't have a large racing background, but he is passionate about cars." You shrug, not knowing what else to say.

"So he didn't you he was a Baron? That his family was literally royalty before Sokovia surrendered in the war? He wasn't even in the county when it collapsed. That's why he doesn't talk about it. His family is dead."

"Why are you telling me this? I know about Sokovia, it was global news. A whole country destroyed in the crossfire. If you have any respect for the dead, you'll stop talking about his family that way," you say, glaring at her.

"I'm not done. Open the file."

You glare a moment longer before you open the file. You look down at the first page you're presented with.

"Who is that?"

There was a photo of a young man. Dirty blonde hair, tall, blue eyes, sweet smile.

"That's Pietro Maximoff," she tells you that name as if you should know who he is.

"Who is he?"

"Pietro Maximoff was a racer."

"Was?"

"He died." She reaches across the table and points to some information below his photo. You can't the words on the page.

Pietro Maximoff

Deceased

Died on impact

Cause: Car accident.

Speculation of foul play by the hands of Helmut Zemo. Car appeared to have been tampered with before hand. Witness testified to sighting of Zemo tampering with car. No solid evidence provided.

You stared at the words, letting them sink in. The woman across from you says nothing as you scan the ink before you.

You swallow.

"It says no evidence was provided."

"There doesn't need to be. He was seen."

"Why who?"

"No one knows. They remained anonymous," she shrugs lightly.

"What are you trying to tell me?" You look at her. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back your emotions.

"Baron Helmut Zemo killed Pietro Maximoff because Maximoff was his competition. Zemo has raced before, but his career was cut short after this. Unfortunately there was no actual proof to pin on him, the witness only had their statement. Maximoff was the next big racer and Zemo dealt with him."

You stand abruptly.

"No."

"Zemo is a murderer," she tells you.

"Stop, please."

"He didn't tell you any of this did he?"

"You're lying."

"All the evidence is in that folder."

The tears fall. You shake your head and try to control your breathing. She's lying. She has to be.

"Stark told me everything. He even provided the information."

You shake your head again.

"I don't believe it. Why are you doing this to me? Is this your sick way of getting back at me? This is cruel. This is so cruel."

"It's the truth. You won't find anything by looking up the Baron, but if you look up Pietro Maximoff you'll find the story. Zemo killed a man so he could win. What's stopping him from doing it again?"

"Are you implying he would kill Stark? Are you insane?" You almost yell.

"He has killed a man before. What's once more?" She asks, angrily hissing out the words.

"Please don't do this to me," you plead.

"Read it. Accept it. It's true. They might not have anything solid on him, but you know as well as I that it's true."

You shake your head a third time.

"Look at it. Read the articles." She moves the file on Pietro over and underneath is a newspaper article.

Racing star, Pietro Maximoff dies in horrific accident

Baron Helmut Zemo disqualified from racing season over foul play speculation.

Helmut Zemo to stand trial

Baron Zemo walks free

"He wasn't found guilty of anything."

"I said it doesn't matter! He did it. Everyone knows he did it."

"You can't just give around accusing people of murder," you his quietly. You had sat back down, not wanting anyone to see your rage.

"Open your eyes."

"You don't know him," you say, voice falling to defeat.

"You don't know Tony Stark."

"I know him better than you." You close the file. "Do not ever come at me with this. Unless you have hard evidence that Zemo was there and had done what he was accused of, I won't believe you."

"You say that now, but trust me. You're going to come around," she gathers the file and stands up.

You watch her storm away.

You bite your cheek as tears fall. Taking out your phone, you search up Pietro Maximoff.

Zemo's name popped up several times.

He really has been accused of killing this young man.

Why did your chest hurt so much?

Maybe you should have asked him earlier when the thought crossed your mind.

You continue to sit at that table, ordering a drink mindlessly when the waiter comes over. It's all you have.

You look at the photo of Pietro on your phone. He had to be in his early twenties. Probably the youngest racer you had come across so far.

You sit there for ages, slowing drinking.

Your phone then starts to ring. You stare at the name lighting up your screen.

Zemo👑

Did you dare answer?

Having spent too long trying to decide, it clicks off. You stare at the screen. It lights up a second time.

Zemo👑

He must be worried. Yet, looking at his name flashing up on screen, dread fills you. Yob your phone, leave money for the drink, and make your way out.

The cold air of the night feels sharp and bitter against your skin. When did it get so cold? Or was that just you?

There was no one out here.

You're not sure if you felt glad about that. Your phone rings again. You know he'll be coming to pick you up, especially if you don't answer his call.

You swipe the call button and hold the phone up to your ear.

"Y/N? Thank goodness, you were not picking up. I was worried something bad happened. I'm on my way to you now, are you alright?"

You listen to his worried words. You stand there wondering who it was you were actually talking to.

"Y/N? Are you there?"

There is panic to his voice.

"Zemo..."

"Y/N? What is it? What's happened?"

You just knew he was picking up the speed right now. He was going to do anything to get to you now.

"Have you been honest with me?"

"What do you mean? Of course I have."

Lies. He is lying. That little voice in the back of your mind is repeating that to you. Lies.

You begin to cry.

"Who is Pietro Maximoff?"

Silence.

"Zemo, who is Pietro Maximoff?"

"How do you know that name?"

"Who is he?"

More silence.

You sob into the phone. His silence was an answer. He knew who you were talking about and your mind spiraled out of control.

He's dangerous. Stark was right.

You hang up. You turn your gaze down the street and decide to walk. You needed air.

Zemo was losing his mind. That wicked woman! What had she told you? Why had she brought that up?

When he realised you had hung up, he put his foot down. He had to get to you. He had to explain, he had to tell you himself.

He couldn't lose you. He couldn't.

This is not how he had imagined his night to go. Suddenly, things were falling apart.

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