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#professional level editing right here
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Anyway... happy birthday V 🍰🎉
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flagellant · 2 years
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Here you all go. Here's the answer to all the questions you never had about soy sauce and a single foreigner's totalitarian influence being a large part in leading to a massive decline in quality and a departure from important cultural traditions. There will never be a 2 hour video essay from me about this. There will never be a book about Blanche Appleton that I write. I had the closest thing I've had to a suicidal episode since I was 13 because of someone harassing me and deciding against literally all evidence that what I had in the end publicized was a racist and insensitive narrative rather than a carefully researched history pieced together with a team of multiple professional archivists internationally and a group of native Japanese speakers and Japanese academics.
I'll give all of you some free advice. Next time you get excited about your special interest on tumblr, don't talk about it.
I cannot fucking believe how much I'm losing my mind right now over soy sauce history. I'll tell all of you about it after I finish this essay because I need to un-distract myself enough to finish it but what the fuck? What the fuck is going on? I'm losing my fucking mind.
EDIT: if this is in your recommended page before you askme any questions about updates or whatever please just check the tag i'm using
EDITx2: this investigation is currently ongoing with live information being added as it is confirmed as relevant; I did not expect the entire internet to give a shit about soy sauce, and so early in the investigation there is quite a lot of outdated information, which has since been corrected, grown more in-depth, and begun to piece together into something more cohesive.
i am currently waiting on a response from the National Archives, a soybean innovation laboratory contact, and a researcher of the works of the Chief Historian of the United States during the occupation. this investigation is not an ARG, and in the real world, actual research takes time on a scale outside of the usual social media expectations. please respect that i cannot speed up the wheels of bureaucracy for you.
please just fucking respect me as a person, y'all, i promise that any of you reading this from recommended pages have absolutely no idea the level of shit that's been thrown my way over fucking soy sauce.
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kquil · 11 months
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REMUS LUPIN | 23:59 ⏤"SHE'S MY WIFE"
SUM. : you bring remus his lunch with your daughter and come face to face with a new, very rude, intern
TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; ceo remus ; wife reader ; reader is sooooo wifey ; remus is husband material too ; remus is also ceo material! ; daughter oc (emily) ; remus is daddy ; reader is mommy ; rude intern ; dorcas makes an appearance ; we love her
LENGTH : 1.1k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
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“Oh!” you smile at the new, young face you see at the front desk, having walked into the company building not too long ago with Remus’ lunch tucked away in your bag as your daughter marches forward in front of you, “Good noon,” Remus had briefly spoken about a new intern shadowing at the front desk earlier in the morning when you had breakfast together; you suppose that this was her. She looked very much like the part, professionally dressed and neat as a pin, though her level of make up was questionable. 
Despite your cheerful and friendly greeting, you were met with silence, suspecting eyes and straight, thin lips that were ever so slightly frowning. It was such an unfamiliar reaction that you were stunned into silence yourself, the tension and lack of a greeting back causing awkwardness to fill the air. You were so used to being received kindly by the usual staff that you didn’t know what to do with yourself when the new worker didn’t reply in kind. 
“Well?” she almost snaps, rather rudely. Her eyes weren’t on you but rather on your daughter, Emily, who stared warily up at her and clutched at your long, flowy skirt with unease.
“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter, further stunned by her discourtesy, your hand moving to cup the back of your daughter’s head as she presses her frightened face into your thigh. 
“Do you have an appointment or not?” she finally snaps and your brows furrow. The clock displayed on the wall behind her indicated that you were right on time for a shift change between the secretaries, with the former assistants going on lunch break and their succeeding secretaries arriving soon to take their place. Usually the exchange was seamless; you wonder what the issue was today. 
“Oh, no, I’m just here to—” she cuts you off with an exaggerated sigh and a roll of her eyes. 
“If you don’t have an appointment then why are you here?” her rude tone continues and she keeps cutting you off, “Do you want me to pass on a message? Want me to refer you to an office? Would you like me to make you an appointment? Tell me already, I don’t have all day,” you had been trying to inform her with every question she posed about your visit but she cut you off each time. Considering that she was the new intern, you were willing to excuse her behaviour due to her lack of experience but her candid judgement of you and your daughter made your blood boil. 
“You are very rude for someone who’s supposed to be the first representative people interact with when they enter—”
She narrows her eyes dangerously and leans over the counter somewhat, but you stand your ground, “That’s none of your business, my job is none of your business, just answer the question,” at this point, your dear Emily was tugging at your skirt and whining softly for comfort, to which you immediately swooped down to lift her into your warm arms. 
“It is my business,” because this is my hardworking husband’s company, you wanted to say but were never one to make such entitled comments. 
“How—?!” you cut her off as she had done to you multiple times. 
“—and it would do you some good to sort out the poor attitude before it lands you in trouble,” 
Just as she opens her mouth to speak again, a familiar face comes into view and moves behind the desk also — it was one of the secretaries who was familiar with your regular visits to the company, Dorcas. 
“Good afternoon! Sorry for my tardiness,” Dorcas greets with a cheerful smile as the intern scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Here for the usual visit, I see,” you smile, shoulders easing with relief as Dorcas winks at you before cooing at Emily, “and how are we today, little Emily?” You and Dorcas focus your attention on your daughter, who smiles happily and looks as relieved as you, especially at the sight of Dorcas, a familiar, friendly face. The two converse for a moment, Dorcas asking her how school was and if she’s been well-behaved, whereby Emily responds articulately, demonstrating her smartness and politeness with a few, soft-spoken words. You were proud of her, she’s just like her father, intelligent, sweet and timid but also with a passionate flame burning deep inside that was just waiting to come to fruition. 
“This is a regular thing?” the intern speaks up with the same audacious tone of voice, effectively cutting the sweet moment between your daughter and Dorcas short. 
“Of course it is,” Dorcas narrows her eyes at the intern, a silent warning for her use of tone, especially in front of Emily. 
“Daddy!” Emily suddenly squeals in your arms and all three of you turn to see your smiling husband walking away from the closing elevator. At this, you place Emily down and she goes racing towards her father. 
“There’s my little girl!” Remus laughs and takes a knee with his arms spread wide open, ready to catch your daughter in his embrace. Using the momentum from her eager sprint to be in his arms, Remus swings her around playfully before tucking her into his side and on his hip, where he kisses her forehead after swiping away her stray baby hairs with his fingers. Watching the touching exchange, you smile warmly and hug Remus around the waist when he finally makes his way over to pull you close and kiss your temple, “hello, dove,” his voice is like sweet honey and it pulls you even closer to him. 
“Good afternoon, darling,” you greet in return, your smile bright and devoid of any bitterness towards the rude intern.
“I thought you two hadn’t arrived yet,” he nods towards the clock behind the front desk, it was well past your usual, punctual visits as you were never one to be tardy, “you’re never this late for lunch, did something happen?” his brows furrowed with worry and you smile at his concern but find it hard to form the words. Instead, you simply refocus your attention and meet the eyes of the new intern behind the desk once more. She had become considerably pale, looking white as a ghost. 
“Sh-she’s—” the intern stutters as Remus’ eyes harden on her. 
“She’s my wife,” his voice didn’t waver at the declaration and he pulls you closer to emphasise your standing, “is there a problem?” there was considerable threat behind his words and the intern was left speechless but also fearful, “because there better not be,” you wanted to speak up throughout the entire exchange but there was nothing for you to say, if she didn’t get her attitude sorted after this confrontation, you wouldn’t dare think about where her life’s trajectory will point to. 
“Let’s go have lunch, darling,” you finally speak up, which, thankfully, Remus relents to. 
A few days after the exchange, the intern supposedly dropped out of the internship program. Not by her volition however. 
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A/N : i haven't written for remus in a while so excuse the rustiness. hopefully, you darlings can agree with me on the fact that remus x ceo au is a great combination, right?
NAVI.
TAGLIST : @aastonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @never-fair ; @celestcies ; @inlovewithremusjohnlupin ; @calums-betch ; @futurecorps3 ; @simpingforthe80s ; @yrluvjane ; @chaosofmanyfandoms ; @storyofaromance ; @loving-and-dreaming ; @somewereinthegalaxi ; @bobs-fav-cat ; @cassandra-nerezza-black ; @stray-bi-kids ; @ttkttt ; @notasadgirlipromise ; @rosalyn-s
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pampushky · 12 days
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Mon Petit Doudou
Pornstar! Charles Leclerc/Pornstar! Reader - 7.4k
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here it is!! enjoy! please reblog and share and all that lovely stuff! getting your comments makes my day and seeing how excited everyone was for this made me super happy :)
uhhh anyway. Might be a bit inaccurate, I'm not all that well versed in BDSM stuff so if anything is like... a super negative connotation within the community that's inaccurate (besides one character who has bad etiquette for plot reasons sorry)
anyway lmk what ya think lmao
masterlist |
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He was too beautiful to be doing something like this for a living. With those bewitching hazel eyes. The effortlessly styled hair. His athletic build. The sweet slur of his accent as he lowered his voice to a sultry level when he talked to you.
But weren’t you as well? Wasn’t that why you fought so hard for your anonymity? That was why you had only ever allowed your mouth or lower to be seen in any stream or video, combined with the concealer that hid away any tattoos or marks from the prying eyes of those who watched you pleasure yourself on camera. Why you never wore your glasses to any professional shoot. It became a necessity to dress so differently on and off screen.
So why did it feel so weird now? Two of you, the same profession between you as you discuss plans for your… collaboration. Charles smiles at you. Stubbly beard and white teeth, a bit of the foam from his coffee clinging to his mustache. Perfectly styled hair as though he’d just stepped out of a convertible. You know you look similar. The soft cardigan slipping off your shoulders. Exposing the delicate tattoos of rue on your upper arms that circled your biceps and danced up to your shoulders.
Herb-of-grace. Purity. Innocence. How ironic for you, considering what your profession had turned into. From a part-time job to a serious career that often ended up having better benefits and more money. 
Charles leans forward, whispering something in French you don’t quite catch, making you frown as he cackles, leaning back. Other tables at the cafe look at the two of you, and you can see the adoration in their eyes. You look like the perfect couple. In a way, you are, just not a romantic one. A spoiled rotten sub and the protective, sweet dom.
“I think you should let them see the tattoos, no? I think they would like it,” Charles says, shit eating grin on his lips. “What does the rue flower represent again?” Because he damn well knows what it means, he just likes to tease you.
“You’re impossible,” you take a steady sip from your cup, looking down at the journal that you’d brought to jot any ideas or notes down in. “You are aware of that, right?”
“But the people like it.” Charles leans back with a shrug. “So. To continue…”
If only the other tables were close enough to hear any of your discussion. To hear the things he was suggesting. But you couldn’t even protest against most of his ideas— they were appealing. Sponsorship deals that both of you had been offered. Not only would your audience like it, but… well, you would enjoy it as well. You can’t help but the little smile that makes its way onto your lips when he nudges you under the table with his foot. 
“Don’t play footsie with me,” you kick him back gently, making sure to just brush his shin. “Who said it was my foot?”
“Har har.” You roll your eyes, but Charles kicks you again, and you can’t help but laugh with your head tilted back. “And was that your foot, this time?” “Wouldn’t you like to see, hm?” 
The rest of the video series is figured out pretty easily. The safewords, plot, who’s going to edit the videos (Max will. He’s one of Charles’s buddies who you’ve seen edit together the most filthy things from previous collaborations and blending everything together with a straight face while sucking on a fancy bendy straw leading to a tall can of Red Bull). You’re comfortable with it all, even asking if Max would be willing to let you use the straw for your water bottle during filming breaks when shooting more traditional videos. 
“Probably not. He’s very protective of it,” Charles says sagely, watching as you just doodle loops and loops of ink into your journal. “Do you still use the same brand of concealer? Just so I can have it on hand. The other bottle you gave me expired.”
“Ah, no, ended up having a bad reaction with it the last time I used it,” you scratch your neck and shrug the cardigan back on. Covering up the twin rue tattoos. “I’ll text you the new brand. I can bring it, too, because it’s a bit pricy…” 
“Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”
“Yeah?” 
“Of course,” Charles looks down at his phone when you text him the link, frowning more so about how you had thought you’d even need to think about buying it. A bottle of your matching shade is ordered by the end of his sentence. “You know that.”
“Tattoo seals are also a good thing to use,” You turn to reach into your bag, missing the way that he traces over the leafy, flowering tattoos on your shoulders. You push a few of the little stickers across to him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have to worry about replacing or cleaning the sheets, then.” 
“Hm. My smart girl,” His praise falls easily from his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way your gaze seems to soften for just a second after it. “I’ll let you know,” Charles snaps a picture of a few and pushes them back towards you. “Stream in a few days then? Don’t forget the collar, mon chou,”
You just laugh, leaning back in your seat while finishing your tea. Like you haven’t been discussing an upcoming scene that will take place in your next shoot with your dom over coffee. How you’ll split the costs and whatever monetization comes from the videos, while also letting him spoil you with the tea and pastries you love. It’s almost like a date. Perhaps in another life, it would be such an innocent thing, and not the planning of a semi-niche porn live stream.
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Charles trails kisses down your neck, letting his stubble brush against you, chuckling as your skin flushes, leaving a wake of goosebumps and heated skin under his lips. The camera is on, but you don’t exactly see it, most of your face is pushed out of frame with how you’re lying across his lap.
“Are you going to be good, mon chou?” 
One of his hands rubs softly on your back, while you’re laid across his lap. You’re face down, and you know you’re positioned in a way so that the viewers will be able to see all of your body. You squirm gently, and nod, trying to tilt your head back so that you’ll be a bit closer to his face. You lay so that you’re facing away from the camera. Your tattoos have been carefully covered with a mix of concealer and tattoo patches. It’s warm, and you feel safe, your mind fuzzy as you slip into subspace. Your hair falls in small waves around the duvet, like a halo. 
Sitting comfortably against your neck is your newest collar. A lovely burgundy leather with brass d-rings and pressed eyes that have been carefully polished to shine. A few pendants hang off the D-ring, little gifts from Charles to you. The inside of the collar itself is lined with soft velvet, made to stop the skin from chaffing. Admittedly, Charles had splurged on it for you, wanting you to have only the best as he worshiped you.
“Uh uh uh,” His hand moves to cup the small of your back to stop your squirming. “Doudou, they want to see you. Don’t move so much,” He looks over at the screen, where a few messages are beginning to pop in. A few donations pop onto the stream’s overlay, displayed for all to see, along with the chat on the side, displayed by one of his other monitors.
ugh she’s so cute (€5) Is that a new collar? Looks so cute on her!! (€10) awww!! she’s getting so excited!! happy to see you both <3 (€20) Such a good girl, listening so well already (€5) Make her answer the question. Give a sub an inch and they’ll take a mile. (€50)
Charles frowns at one of the more recent messages in the chat. Very rarely did he ever need to punish you for being a brat or acting out of turn. Whenever he did do this, it was always scripted for the viewers. Played up, and a rare event that usually came after a request was put in for it, along with a substantial amount of money. But fifty euros is nothing close to what would substantiate any punishment, so he brushes over it and smiles at the chat as more tips and excited messages drop in.
“Oh, mon chou, they’re so happy to see you again,” Charles whispers, watching as the viewer count starts to grow as people tap on the notification that you’ve both gone live. More comments in the chat pour in. “Yes, she’s been so good lately, haven’t you, ma moitié?”
He runs a hand up and down your back, and then gently squeezes the swell of your ass. You squirm a little bit again and make a needy noise rather than answering.
Make her answer. She seems like a bit of a spoilt sub, needs a reminder of who’s in control. (€50)
The message donation floats on the stream overlay for a few seconds, before being replaced by more donations. The chat is a mix of more praise and excitement along with a handful of confused ‘???’ about the last donation message. It’s the same username as the other donation that had confused him a bit. His mouth quirks down into a frown before he quickly masks it with a little smirk as he looks down at you.  
“Doudou, have you been good?” Charles whispers softly in your ear, leaning down to ask you. His stubble brushes over your skin, and he gently rubs your lower back, encouraging you to speak. “They want to hear your sweet voice, bébé.”
“Uh–huh,” you mumble out, starting to squirm again. “Been good, sir.”
“Yes or no, bébé,” Charles gently reminds you, his touch still reverent around your skin as you lay across his lap, stomach facing down. “I know you have, but our lovely friends watching you don’t.”
“Y-yes, been so good,” your voice is soft, and his heart melts. Charles is already a very soft dom towards you. Never pushing. Never raised his voice. He doesn’t like using any crops or toys that can verge on pain. That’s just what the relationship between the two of you had become. 
she’s so cute!! Aaksfhasl so so good for us!! I just wanna see her cute little face (T^T) She’s so eager to please!! 
The chat is a blur at this point. Mostly compliments for your good behavior and how eager you appear to be to start the steam. Lovingly, Charles rubs your back again. Kisses the top of your head, and then gently starts to finger you open, prepping you for what you’d both discussed for today’s streams.
“There’s a bunch of toys we’ve gotten today,” Charles leans back to grab the little basket of toys, reading out their names and the slightly dry sponsor segments he knows he has to read. He lifts each one to show the camera, and you press your legs together with a whine as he reads out the descriptions the sponsors had given him for each toy.
He tilts his head back to laugh a little bit at your desperation and softly kisses the small of your back. 
“You should have seen her the other day,” Charles looks at the camera, while you let out little squeaks. You’re still on his lap and trying your best to keep still as he gently pumps in and out of you with his ring and middle fingers. “She was so good. Even when she had a plug in.” 
Hot hot hot omg
You squirm slightly at his words. Whining softly. Staying as still as possible just like he’d told you, lost in the sweetness of subspace. The tip of his middle finger brushes against a very special, spongy spot inside of you that has you keening into the duvet on Charles’s bed. 
“Oh? Did I find something?” Charles feigns disinterest while curling his fingers to press just a bit harder into your G-spot. He reaches with his other hand to grab the camera, wanting the chat to have a good view of your folds clenching around his fingers tightly. When he pulls his fingers out, they glisten with your wetness, and your sweet hole tightens around nothing. “Look at you, so responsive for me,”
He brings himself to a slower pace, no longer thrusting his fingers in and out of you with the same rigor as he had minutes before. You wiggle your rear at him again, craning your neck to look over your shoulder at him with a little sigh, your pleading look invisible to the camera. Just as his lips quirked into a small smile over your sass, another donation popped up just as he pressed the camera back onto its little stand. 
What an indignant little thing. Put her in her place, hopefully this helps you grow a pair. (€100)
Charles holds back every childish instance to flash his balls to the camera just to specifically show this donor that he does indeed have a pair, and a rather substantial set at that. You whine again, and without really thinking, he brings his palm down onto your left cheek, the one closest to the camera. It’s not too hard, and it sounded worse than it actually was. You let out a little yelp, and still, your hands fist in the duvet covers even tighter, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, shocked eyes. 
“You know better than to whine, you’ll get what you want,” Charles' gaze softens, and he already feels a bit of regret for spanking you without warning. The collar around your neck shifts a bit, some of the pendants hanging off the D-ring jingle together from how you’d jerked your head back to look at him. The little bell on the collar chimes sweetly, and soothingly, Charles continues to rub your left cheek, leaning down to softly kiss you out of frame. You whine, and he swallows all your noises, before leaning back in, looking at the camera while lovingly soothing the skin where he’d smacked down. 
To some satisfaction, he can’t see any new donations from that particular donor. He’ll make sure you feel nothing but loved, with the two hundred euros the person had dropped on it. Charles just smiles again, letting his hand still on your lower back, continuing with the stream as planned. 
An hour in and he’s had you nearly cumming on one of the rabbit toys sent to you. It’s smooth, and the actual toy part is a lovely mint green color. A very nice one, with several different speeds used to keep you squirming and whining softly under his touch. Small sighs of “—Sir— please—” and “Ch—Charles—” fall from your lips ever so often, and he even manages to coax a loud moan from your lips, which the chat goes insane about. When you do climax, you don’t even have the where-with-all to try and warn Charles. And he doesn’t even mind, he’s always been happy to just let you chase your own pleasure and highs. 
You whine, slumping against him, feeling him pull the still-vibrating toy from your folds. Your clit is puffy and engorged, and the chat loves to see how you whimper as Charles brushes his fingers through your folds, holding the camera close to give everyone a good view of your still-twitching cunt. 
so pretty now give her another!! Her whines omg Good Girl <3 (€25)  Such a cute little sub Wish i had a dom to take care of me like she does waaaa
Despite himself, Charles smirks, knowing his face is out of view while he gives everyone a good view of your slick heat. The donor who’d been provoking him hadn’t said anything in a while. He grins at every little noise you make, especially with how you whimper at his touches, still sensitive. But you don’t move away— you know you’re safe, and that he’d never do anything to harm you. You have safewords for that exact reason, and you’d never had to use them outside of practice scenarios Charles would make you do just in case. 
He settles the camera back onto its stand, tilting it down so that the stream can also see a bit of himself. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low around his hips. The waistband of his boxers is visible, showing off the V-line of his lower body, and the happy trail of dark brown fuzz that crawls up his torso. 
“Did you like that one, mon chou?” Charles croons, moving so that he blocks the view of the camera, purposefully hiding your pretty face so that you have a bit of time to reposition yourself. “Hmm?”
“Mhm,” your voice is dreamy, and your head lolls uselessly to the side as he strokes your cheek. “S’good…” 
There’s no need for you to call him ‘sir’ at this moment. He doesn’t even really enforce the title, it’s just something that slips out occasionally while he takes care of you. It’s adorable, in all honesty, the way that you talk when he’s truly gotten you into the hazy, carefree state that is your subspace, never so much as raising his voice when talking to you. That’s his brand. That’s your brand. Just a needy sub and soft dom pairing that verged on Charles having an obsession with you cumming and feeling safe while he’s there. 
The rest of the stream goes about as planned. Charles tries a variety of new toys on you, ranging from a dual-purpose clitoral suction toy that doubles as a dildo to vibrating anal beads that you are not much a fan of, but let him try them on you for the sake of experimentation. It all comes to the grand finale of Charles then having you bounce on his lap as you ride his thick cock, your walls clenching around him as you whine and wail out pleas for him. 
“That’s it, mon chou, you’re being so good for me, always so wonderful,” Charles squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down on his lap as you whine out a sound that might be his name. The camera has a wonderful view of your back, zoomed in to specifically see the way he slides in and out of you. Your cream covers his cock. 
You lean against him, your forehead on his shoulder as you gasp and pant. He can feel the way you’re loosely gripping onto his shoulders, not strong enough to scratch his skin, but certainly hard enough to remind him that you were here, if the warm wetness of your cunt somehow didn’t. 
“Where do you want me? Where, mon chaton?” Charles whispers against your head, and he is rewarded by you looking at him with a hazy glance, just for him.
“I-inside,” you whimper, trying to lean against him further, trying to get him to press his face against yours, stopped only by the fact that he needs to keep your face out of frame.
So he gently moves so that both of your faces are out of frame, his stubbled cheek against yours. Thrusts growing more rapid until you clench around him, trying to milk his cock for anything he may give you. He finishes a minute after, twitching inside of you, and breathing hard as he comes down from his high. In the back of his mind, Charles imagines his cum settling in your womb. Making a baby. Seeing you grow round as the months passed, needing help with simple things. Perhaps it would have if it weren’t for your implant and his vasectomy. Just precautions of the trade. 
Gently, he pulls himself from you, still panting. He brings the camera closer, giving the viewers a good look at how his seed trickles from your folds, mixing with your release. 
hot!! Eeeek!! breeding kink breeding kink She’d look so fucking cute all round with a baby Give her a baby!! (€20)
Charles pauses the camera feed for a few minutes, gently wiping at your core with a warm cloth and praising you endlessly as you mewl helplessly. The chat feeds into his little fantasy. He thinks about you as his housewife. Coming home from a normal office job rather than a studio shoot with other people. Kissing the rue flower tattoos on your shoulders lovingly, while his hands come to hold the little bump of your pregnant belly. 
But with a shake of his head, it’s gone. Because that isn’t your relationship with him. So he turns the camera back on with you settled in his lap, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies. You’re curled up happily, face nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding everything away from the camera’s view. He can feel you placing almost sleepy kisses on his neck, along with the contented sighs you’re making. 
As is the normal routine, Charles thanks everyone for their donations, while also allowing viewers to make requests in the chat. Answering questions about the little break from any streaming and videos the two of you would normally do. This is usually when more of the donations sweep in, much bigger ones. The notifications are delayed, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees one rather large donation come through. 
I’d like to commission something of the two of you. I’ll be reaching out to your business email after the stream, just to ensure that this tip doesn’t bounce. (€800)
It’s the same username as the donor who had dropped €200 earlier in the stream. Part of Charles feels incredibly uneasy over whatever this commission could entail, simply based on the comments they had made in their previous donations. 
But if they had been able to give over €1000 in a single stream…. Which was nearly a third, if not more, of the total donations…
You shift slightly in Charles’ lap, bringing him back to the present. You’re still lost, he can see that by the distant, glazed-over look in your eyes. What you need right now is a good bath, a bottle of water, and something to snack on while he massages the knots from your back. You can talk about the possibility of something like a commissioned video later.
“That’s…. Hm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, bébé?” Charles grins, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, before bidding farewell to the stream, and turning off the camera. The donations still pour in for another thirty minutes, and that’s when Charles gets the light ping that everything’s done downloading, right as he’s gotten you to finish a bottle of water. He sends it to Max immediately, who’s already gotten the rough outline of how the video should look. Charles will go over to his apartment tomorrow to work on the specifics of what everything should look like, and then send the link to you for final approval to post. Knowing Max, the Dutchman is likely just starting to wake up as the world is going to sleep. He’ll probably have a mockup done just as the sun starts to rise. 
For now, Charles turns his focus to you, watching as you slowly munch on goldfish crackers, as if deep in thought. It’s funny, really, you’re so lost in your thoughts and somewhat spaced out still. But when you look at him, he can see the little grin on your face as he walks over to you. Letting you curl into his embrace.
“You’re all sweaty.”
“Mm. I was fucking you rather hard near the end.”
That makes you giggle, and you look up at him with a mischievous little grin. “You also spanked me.”
“I did.” Charles swallows a bit of his guilt down. “Are you sore?”
“No. It was… just unexpected.” You fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, and he plays with the hair at the back of your head. It’s domestic and sweet. It could be a scene from the everyday life of any young couple. Charles feels like he’s in the wrong for wishing it was. “It startled me a bit. Nothing bad.”
“Sorry.” 
You just shrug, and let him help you out of the hoodie. With the utmost care, he peels off the tattoo seals. Wipes away the concealer. And helps you into the shower, washing away any of the stubborn bits of makeup that insisted on staying behind. The rue flowers bloom under his touch, and without really thinking, Charles kisses them, his lips trailing around your shoulders and upper arms as if he’s worshiping some idol. 
It’s the most intimate thing someone’s ever done for you. And Charles realizes he may have just crossed a serious line, looking back at you like a deer in the headlights as you stare at him over your shoulder, with a mildly sleepy gaze. His hands start to shake.
“Why’d you stop?” 
The way you tilt your head is sinful. That someone so innocent and willing to give submit body to him looks at him in such a way. Asking such obvious questions when you already know the answer. Entering a relationship because of your shared profession with him could be catastrophic. You both work in such a niche of your industry when it comes to the kinks and roleplays you’re willing to work through that both of you would be screwed if feelings got in the way of your work. 
“Because we shouldn’t take it any further,” 
“What if I want you to?”
Charles nearly chokes on his surprise. The water is still warm around him. Your hair still has the conditioner in it, just soaking on your scalp as you wait for him to help you wash it out. 
“That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t.”
“But you were just kissing my tattoos.” Your brow furrows. “That’s hardly the porn we normally shoot.”
“It’s—  it’s not about the porn—”
“Then ask me out.” You say it so plainly. As if it’s that easy… and maybe it is. “I like you.”
“What?”
“I like you. You seem to like me.”
“I do like you!” Charles blurts out. And then blushes violently, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink-red as he starts to rinse the conditioner out of your hair, making you turn away from him so he doesn’t get any of it in your eyes. He still feels guilty for spanking you without much warning. “But don’t you think this could be weird—”
“I think it could be nice.” You sigh, leaning into his touch. Entrusting him to put you back together after breaking you apart. “Don’t you?”
He can’t bring himself to speak after that. Drives you home. You watch him from the window of your apartment as the rear lights of his car fade away. 
The moment Charles is out of sight, he goes to Max’s flat. Pounding on the door hard until the disgruntled Dutchman opens up. He can hear Daniel moving around somewhere in the apartment, talking to one of the cats as Charles stands dumbly at the threshold of the happy couple’s home.
“What?”
“I think I’m in love with her,” Charles blurts out, and Max just scowls further.
“Mate, I could have told you that!” Daniel calls from deeper in the house, as Max pulls the panicked man inside, making him sit down in the cozy living room. Max’s computer set up is pushed into the corner, with a cat tower beside the desk. Sassy currently sleeps happily on the highest little bed, while Jimmy weaves through Daniel’s legs as the Australian offers a slice of pizza to Charles. “What finally made you realize?”
“She— she told me to ask her out. Wait— does that count as her asking me out—?” 
Charles’ voice grows more frantic, and his hands go to his hair as he starts to pace in the living room. Both cats watch him go back and forth, while Max settles at his desk, opening the file to start editing. 
“Who cares? Do it. You’ve been making moony eyes at her for the past year of working with her.” Max grumbles, clearly unamused by the drama of it all. 
“We make porn together!”
“So? That’s how I met Max.” Daniel tilts his head, at which point Jimmy does the same. The Monegasque frowns at him. “Didn’t stop us.”
“You’re both gay.”
“Ouch.” Max’s stoic tone is somehow cutting, even when he’s focused on the screen, pulling up the video Charles had sent to him, and then the outline on the other monitor. “I don’t see how that changes anything. The only difference is that I was Daniel’s editor rather than costar.”
Charles flops onto the couch. Daniel just looks down at the man, before looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “And how’d you respond?”
“What?”
“How did you respond to her asking you out?”
His face goes blank, and a look of realization dawns on his face. 
“I panicked?”
“How badly?”
“I kept— okay I responded pretty badly,” Charles admits, and then groans right into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration. He keeps thinking about how he’d kissed your tattoos. Had he inadvertently made you feel like you could ask that? Furthermore, were you really, truly asking that, or were you still somewhat caught up trying to be a good sub?
Images of you sleeping in his bed as the morning sun rises conjure up in his mind, followed by cooking together in the kitchen of his flat, and he can’t help but groan angrily at himself for letting such a fantasy with someone who he could call his coworker appear in his mind at this moment. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face as you sit across from him at the cafe, brushing your foot against his shins while sipping at your cup of tea. Your feet up on his lap while reading a book on his couch, pure domestic bliss. 
“Fuuuuck,” Charles just keeps his hands on his face. “She’s gonna hate me.” 
“She’s not going to hate you,” Daniel tries to comfort him. “Just tell her you need time to think about it.”
“No but— I was also sending mixed messages,” he mumbles, and he hears a long, drawn-out sigh from both Max and Daniel. “I was kissing her shoulders. I— I couldn’t help it, I felt bad, I kinda spanked her without warning earlier in the stream—”
“Gross.”
“I know! But this one donor was getting so pissy about how she was responding—”
“I’m sorry, you let someone who was watching and imagining touching her dictate how you were actually touching her?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Dude. You’re her dom, not to mention how many times you’ve been with her. Why would you get so possessive then?”
Maybe he is a bit possessive. Last year, during a studio-based shoot when another dom had been too rough with you, using your blindfold to practically drag you around the set, and spanking you much harder than he had originally implied he would, Charles had immediately cut the camera and kicked the man out of the room, not even letting him get dressed. He’d gone straight to your side after that, checking you were okay for nearly an hour before even considering letting the filming start again. 
That had earned him a bit of a reputation as possessive over his subs, you in particular. The lack of collaborations with any other actors certainly hadn’t helped much either, with your last one being with Daniel almost half a year ago, and that one had been a cuckolding video, where he had posed as the husband watching his wife getting fucked and bred by another man, not even touching you throughout the process besides a scripted kiss at the end. 
Now, Charles feels like he is 1.) the stupidest man on planet Earth and 2.) just passed up on an opportunity that you had presented him on a silver platter. He stares up at the ceiling as Daniel looks down at him. Maxis typing away in the corner, and makes a little ‘hm’ noise, likely getting to the part of the stream where he’d spanked you. 
“Wow. That sounded bad. Didn’t leave a mark though,” Max hums, and then starts to type again, before making a much more distressed noise. “No fucking way— Dani! It’s the fucking guy again!”
“Wha— really?” Daniel dashes over to look at the screen while Charles stays on the couch. “Ugh. What a fucking creep.”
That piques some interest.
“What?”
“Yeah— the guy with the weird dono? Total creep. Tried to commission me into some weird, non-con roleplay. Wanted to do a solo stream for just him, totally ignored all of my rules for that stuff, and outright told me to ‘Just suck it up’ when I used the safeword for some of the shit he was saying about me.” Daniel shivers, and for a moment, Max looks like he wants to strangle the man until his boyfriend squeezes his shoulder. Charles's blood runs cold. 
“What?!” Charles looks over the username again. MattiaBinn. “Jesus fucking—Je le tuerai moi-même pour avoir voulu que je fasse une telle chose avec elle—”
“English, Charles.”
“I’ll kill him myself,” Charles growls, and starts to march right towards the door, “I need to talk to her right now—”
“Or maybe we need to give her time to cool down,” Daniel reaches towards him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him backward. “She probably still needs some space and to take care of herself after the stream, regardless of how much aftercare you did with her.”
Part of Charles hates that Daniel’s right. Another part of him says that no, you should be letting him take care of you. That’s what his job was as your dom, he was supposed to take care of you and make sure you didn’t experience sub-drop. You deserve only the best, and right now he’s not acting like that. Quite frankly, he’s being a bit of a self-righteous prick about his own feelings for you. 
His phone pings with a notification, and out of pure irritation, he considers silencing it, until he sees it’s an email from a frankly disturbing email address. From: Mattia Binotto. Subject: Commissioned Private Stream.
“Oh, putain de merde,” Charles groans, and quickly scans through the email. It’s exactly as Daniel described. Non-con, harsher treatment, and quite honestly, the opposite of nearly everything Charles did as a dom and that you would agree to. Infuriatingly, your business email has also been sent this. You text him not a second after he’s done scanning it.
Did you also get this?
It seems… uhm, interesting. 
Attached is a screenshot of the email. You’re awake, at the very least. Alert enough to be checking your business email. He texts back quickly. 
I’m not doing any of that.
That’s not the shit I do. Fuck.
…okay. 
Sorry, you seem to be in a bad mood. 
It’s not your fault
Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, mon doudou
I kinda feel like it is…
I didn’t mean to push any boundaries or make you upset about this
I am sorry, Charles.
Charles wants to bash his head against the wall because now he feels like utter shit for making you feel guilty about his own stupidity. Just as he’s about to text you back you send him a goodnight text. When Daniel glances at the screen he visibly winces. 
“Yeah. I’d give her some space.”
Tumblr media
Space turns into a week. Instead of the normal collab stream, you do a solo one. Charles ends up watching it. You’ve got an array of toys behind you, most pretty pastel colors or swirling abstract designs that make an odd pit settle in his stomach at the idea of them bringing you pleasure rather than him.
You’re currently fucking yourself on a dildo he’d gifted you, shaped like… certain sweet treat. It was meant to be a bit of a gag gift— the name of it was called the banana split, for Christ’s sake— but seeing you fuck yourself on it made him groan, palming the hardness in his pants as you gasped and whined. You were wearing one of his hoodies too, muffling your little noises into the sleeves. And the chat was loving it, encouraging you to keep going. 
And then the fucking donation showed up from that fucking prick Mattia.
Needy little thing. Do you think you deserve to cum? (€50)
The robot voice that read out the message had you whining, and you momentarily pause, before slowly lifting your hoodie to give the cam a better view, showing the slight bulge in your tummy from the toy resting inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on it again, rutting your hips forward as if that could provide some respite for the high you were chasing. 
“Y-Yes—wanna cum—” Your face is hidden, as per usual, just off-screen, but at the very top, he can see how your chin wobbles a bit as if you’re currently panting with an open mouth, “Please please please please—”
Hold it. Not yet. Needy little sluts only get what they need when they’re good. (€50)
Rage bubbles in Charles’ stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was, first of all, calling you a needy slut, and then acting like you were his to take care of. Charles makes a note to ban him from both of your chats as soon as this is over. 
He can tell by your posture that you look startled, and the chat mixed. Some are telling Mattia to fuck off, while others are encouraging you to listen because Charles isn’t there. You whimper, confused, and Charles nearly screams, sprinting to get to his keys while the stream continues on his phone. He knows how insane he must look, having porn very audibly playing on his phone, but he doesn’t care, not as he starts his car and calls you. He can hear the phone in the background of your stream, and you whine even louder, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on the toy pausing.
“Fuck, doudou, pick up,” Charles groans, his driving becomes more and more reckless as he gets closer to your apartment. “Pick up!”
The sounds of your stream seem to pause, and there’s a rustle as you move, hopefully reaching for the phone and—
Did I say you could do that, slut? Or are you too stupid to listen to directions? (€50)
Charles roars as he hears you let out a pathetic whine, followed by sniffles. How dare Mattia insult you like that, how dare he make you feel unsafe when you should be feeling nothing but safe and loved. He was going to find him. He was going to find whoever this Mattia Binotto was and beat the tar out of him.
“M’sorry— wanna be good—”
“You are good,” Charles’ mouth is dry,  right as he pulls outside the front of your flat, with a half-assed park job that’s likely going to get him a ticket if he stays there until morning. “You’re so good, mon petit doudou, just hold on,”
You’re not being good now. Apologize, you useless little slut. No wonder your dom isn’t here. What a spoiled little sub. (€50)
Charles fiddles with the lock, searching for the spare you’d told him about, hidden under a fake rock right off of your stoop. He opens the door, nearly forgets to close it behind him, and screams out your name as he tears through the kitchen.
Find your biggest toy for me. And show us how badly it hurts. Do it if you want to be good for me (€50)
When he manages to get to your room, you’re startled by his sudden appearance, and so is the chat. There’s a new, much larger toy positioned under you, the tip just brushing against your folds. The first thing that Charles does is cut the camera. The next thing he does is end the stream. A final donation, clearly placed before the stream ended appears on the screen, all the notifications from the tip jar making a discordant melody with your hiccuping sobs and Charles’ panting.
The donation makes him see red.
Fuck yourself. Slow. Let me hear you cry. (€50)
You let out a whimper, shaking, as you sink onto the toy, only to be scooped up by Charles. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s knocking around the toys and is probably making his possessive reputation worse. He’s not going to let you hurt yourself because some fucking pervert got in your head, and he’s furious that you’ve fallen for the same manipulation he did. 
“M’sorry— m’sorry, I wanna be good—”
“You’re so good, tu es si bon pour moi,” Charles croons, rocking you back and forth, holding you close as you cry into his chest. “I’m here. I’m here. You don’t have to do any of that. Let me take care of you.”
It takes nearly thirty minutes to get you to stop crying. You keep your face pressed into his shoulder, shaking as Charles soothes you, humming softly to you. He speaks in French, knowing that you enjoy the way his voice sounds when he speaks it. 
“Can you tell me where you are, Doudou?”
“In my bed,” 
“Wonderful job, so smart for me,” Charles praises, kissing your forehead softly. Your grip tightens on his shirt, and he can feel a small huff of air against his skin when you breathe out. “And what’s my name?”
“Charles. You’re Charles.” You murmur. “How did you get in here…?”
“Spare key.” He shifts so that you can look at him, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes under one of your eyes, the skin sticky from tears. “I was… I was watching the stream.”
“Oh.” You lean against his chest, letting him stroke up and down your back. You nuzzle into the collar of the hoodie. Charles presses his nose into your hairline, inhaling your scent, while keeping his lips against your forehead. “So you….saw…”
“He’s banned. It’s the same guy from the commission email.” There’s a hint of rage in his voice, which fades the moment your nose nudges under his chin, dislodging him from your hairline. 
“Thanks.” He can feel the curve of your lips turning into a smile as you nuzzle into him further. “My hero. Taking care of me, even when you’re upset.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” Charles’ voice catches in his throat at the admission, pulling away enough to look down at you. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face, and a sleepy look in your eyes. 
“It could be nice,” You murmur again, shyer than before. “You and me, couldn’t it?”
“I think it could be more than nice,” His lips are so close to yours, enough so that he can feel your breath against them. Charles has been balls-deep in you. Has fucked into you until you cream around his cock and sobbed out his name. But this is quite possibly the most intimate thing he’s ever done with you. “Really, really nice.”
The taste of your lips on his is divine as he holds onto your waist with one hand, and cups your face with the other. You giggle when he pulls away to catch his breath, and before he can even stop himself, he’s grinning and pressing you into the bed, blowing a raspberry against your cheek just to hear your shrill laughter and feel the butterflies in his stomach that appear every time you laugh around him. 
“Mon petit Doudou,” He can’t stop the grin on his face as he kisses all over your face, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your hair is fanning around your head like a halo. Your smile is infectious. And he can see a few blooms from your tattoos under the neckline of your hoodie. His hoodie. “Mine, mine, mine.”
“Yours, yours, yours.” You respond, curling into him happily as the two of you lay in your bed.
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mekanikaltrifle · 8 months
Text
'Vamily Spotlight': WoD Brand Team is Taking Art Without Permission
Recently, I was informed by a friend that some work of mine had shown up in the World of Darkness’ official ‘Vamily Spotlight’ section of their latest video. In this they talk about the gameplay reveal of Bloodlines 2 and generally drum up hype for it, which is largely what you expect from company channels when they’ve a new product out. 
There’s a problem with this: I was never informed, or asked. No consent was given to use that work, or any others.
Through some excellent efforts by friends I also found that my work was in two other videos, with the earliest being well over a year ago-- totalling three, and they were up on both Twitch and YouTube.
Now, you’ll note that I’m a professional artist with two separate art degrees and well over a decade and a half of training. I’ve also a basic understanding of copyright and fair use. 
The Vamily Spotlights are little to do with the review and news section of the video and therefore do not really have bearing on the main point of the video. To this end, I’d assume they’re there as a draw to viewers, maybe to see if their or their friends’ work has turned up in these official videos. And nominally that’s a valid tactic for engagement, if you have permission to use these pieces of work.
They do not however have permission, and certainly not from me. 
As of writing, (5th of February 2024) I’ve issued a DMCA request for all three of the videos my work shows up in on both Twitch and YouTube, and takedowns are pending but I would urge people in the WoD tag here on Tumblr to check the available videos for themselves, if they are as concerned as I am. The screenshots of art in the videos they use to spotlight seem to come from Tumblr, as well as whole TikTok videos and other social media posts. If this makes the rounds elsewhere, do check your stuff wherever you are, WoD fans. 
As the videos are also present on the Twitch VOD platform, this means they are actively charging money using our work without permission. I am unsure if their YouTube channel is monetised.
If they use your work for their spotlights, they are making advertisements and revenue off of your work without any reimbursement or prior consent. 
I don’t know if other artists were asked, but I definitely wasn’t, and by now we all know the issues with ‘exposure’ and how that does not keep artists fed or housed. 
And Paradox Interactive, having artists, they should know that you do not take for free from any of us-- at any level of influence or professionalism. The WoD community is not a free for all for companies to pick and choose free art to use like a bowl of cute little multicoloured sweets, it’s a bunch of creative, inspired and crafty people who come together across any edition of the many worlds in the setting to create as is our fair right to do so. Without being taken for granted, and without being cynically harvested for ‘content’. How vampiric. 
Additionally I would like to note that all of my World of Darkness fanworks are based on legacy books; Vampire 20th Anniversary Edition, Mage the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition and Hunter: the Reckoning First Edition most often, though there are appearances from others. You’ll note that not one of these books is the territory of Paradox Interactive or their World of Darkness brand management team-- looks to me like they’ve simply trawled the tag without reading what they’re looking at, which means they certainly didn’t take the time to ask permission to use these works. Not only were these actions tantamount to theft, it was also not even their fanart to begin with. And once again, they’d have known this had they contacted me at all, which they did not. It’s a failure on their part on several levels and not only do I want the videos taken down, I think the community is sorely owed an apology for this frivolous theft of art under the banner of ‘community content’. I didn’t opt in to having my work taken, and it should not have been assumed that it was okay to take my work just because it’s using a tag they also use!
I want everyone to know I have had zero benefit from their use of my work-- no money, no notes and no dialogue. This does not help artists. This does not help the community.
I’m willing to talk about this should anyone want to ask, but this is a gross abuse of artists and creatives’ rights for the sole purpose of gain by the World of Darkness brand team, and I expected better. I know I personally deserve an apology for this at the very least, as well as the WoD team to commit to actually contacting artists and sourcing permission in future-- and to set up an opt-in or out system for whether people want to be featured. I know I don’t, and I never asked to be. My work’s lovely, and they’re right to have said so. But it’s not for Paradox, and it’s not for Outstar or any of the other Brand team.  
It’s for me, and people here on Tumblr who like it. 
I’m disappointed, in PDX and in the WoD Brand team, because they should know far better than this. 
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miloformula123fan · 9 months
Note
Full fic??
I’ve read that Logan S. felt really lonely being the only American in F1. Like, he wasn’t completely accepted in the grid. Maybe he has an overprotective older sister who is a professional soccer player (like World Cup level good) who finally has time to attend his races. She dislikes most of the grid, except Alex and Oscar, for how they treated her brother. quick to defend Logan and even as far as annihilate them during the annual driver soccer match to prove a point. Im thinking G. Russel pairing due to Logan living in England. he wins her over by treating logan right, acknowledging he could have been welcoming, etc. Just a thought!
OKAY I HONESTLY LOVED THIS! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE (let me know if you want a part 2, because it is a bit of an interesting ending haha)
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
edit: i wrote part 2 - it is here
part 3 is here
George Russell x reader, logan sargeant x sister!reader
---
Y/N loves her brother, she really does. Yeah, she’s tried to get to a few of his F2 rounds, but with her soccer taking her around the world, she has had very little time. She has the entire month off though, so what better to do than visit her brother at his home grand prix. Miami is always a party, so maybe she could let loose for a bit, try and relax, and find a guy.
This is quickly vetoed when she finds Logan cooped up in his drivers room. While most people would think that he was excited for the race, most people weren’t Logan’s sister. She could tell he was thinking too hard about something, and it wasn’t good.
“Hey Logie Bear! Whatcha thinking about?” She tried to appear happy, but she could see that Logan’s smile did not reach his eyes
“Nothing, just excited for the race, the car is quick, just aiming for some points, hoping for a safety car. The garage is over there, sorry I have to warm up.” Y/N looked up as Benny entered the room and Logan stood up. She could tell how closed up he was, how he didn’t want to talk at all
“Okay, we’ll talk after the race Logan! Good luck, you'll smash it!” Y/N walked out of the drivers room towards the garage seeing the chaos of it.
Y/N watched as Logan apologised over again and again to his engineer for not making up any more places. She stood there listening to his engineer reassure her younger brother. She eventually decided that she couldn’t listen to it anymore and decided to wait in his garage room.
When he walked in, Y/N could tell he wasn’t sure whether to throw stuff or cry. 
“Hey, hey, come here! It’s okay, it’s okay!” She opened her arms and sat down as Logan fell down into them and hugged her baby brother, as he started talking the words just rushed out
“I just wanted to prove that I deserve to be here, feel like I’m a part of the paddock.” Logan hugged his sister back tightly, hesitating slightly.
“What do you mean? Of course you’re a part of the paddock, you’ve got your seat, y’know?” Y/N was confused as to what her brother meant, from what she had seen, he was welcomed warmly by everyone.
“Yeah but, I’m never invited to the grid parties, no one really ever talks to me, except Alex and Oscar, and Oscar is getting into the rest of the grid through Lando, and Alex is only really talking to me because I mean, he’s my teammate we have to be friends, and I just want everyone to like me… so I thought maybe if I got some points and good overtakes, then people would like me..”
“Oh, Logie… It’ll be okay. If they don’t like you then I think they’re just idiots, but they won’t. They’ll warm up to you, I promise.”
---
George watched as Y/N sprinted up and down. Okay the F1 team was never going to win, particularly when multiple women who were playing in the world cup were playing on the opposition team, but ‘Sargeant’  (who also had the same name as the rookie driver this year, who was sitting in the stands) was dominating, she had more goals then all of the f1 team, so of course the celebrity team won 4-1. She’d almost immediately jumped into the stands once the referee blew the whistle and started talking to Logan, maybe the kid got married young and just didn’t want anyone to realise. 
Although she looked quite similar to Logan, so maybe his sister instead. Either way, she did not seem to like them, she called them all dickheads and shoved them over a few times. George’s knees were sore. But she was still pretty. So he approached Logan and the girl.
“Hello! I’m George and…’
“I’m pretty sure my brother knows your name, Georgie! Why don’t you say hello to him?”
“Y/N-”
“No. Say hi to Logan, George.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, almost forced.
“Hey Logan! Looking forward to the grand prix this weekend?”
“Uhhhh… yeah. ” He turned back to Y/N “I’ve got some stuff to do, so you can make your way back. See ya!”
As soon as Logan was out of listening range, Y/N pulled George in and started whispering, “Listen, I don’t know what problem you have my brother, but you need to get over it ASAP, understood?”
“I.. don’t have a problem with your brother.”
“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”
George stood there, mouth gaping as she stormed off to grab her bag and then sprinted after Logan. He could almost hear the f1 team laughing at his failed attempt at flirting, but all he could think about ‘was what she said true?’’
---
Y/N was going to cry.
She could see Logan in the family and friends box, hands over his mouth, eyes glassy.
That corner kick should’ve gone in, she thought, we had so many chances and we still fucked it all. Couldn’t even give Megs a proper farewell.
She walks slowly over to her younger brother and let his arms wrap around her
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dragged you halfway ‘round the world when you should’ve been training only to lose the first game.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Go pack up, we can head home and spend some time in London relaxing. I’ve got next week off before I need to be back in the factory.”
Y/N was awoken by a knock on the front door. Hearing Logan snoring from his bedroom, she got up off the couch, rubbing her eyes and opened the door.
Of all the people she was expecting to see, George Russell would’ve been just about the last on her list “Uhh, hey?”
“Oh, morning! Is your brother up?”
Y/n paused for a moment to let George hear the snores coming from Logan’s bedroom. “Yeah, no, sorry. I can pass on a message?”
“Oh, No I was just going to offer if he was still up to go on a morning jog with him, but as he isn’t…”
“You been doing this often?”
“Almost every week we’ve been in town. I don’t think he understands what or why I’m doing this. But, he’s a good kid, opens up a bit when you talk to him. He likes you, respects you a lot for 2 siblings pursuing their sport across the globe.”
“I’ll make some breakfast and you can stay til Logan wakes up, okay? As a thanks for looking out for him. Hard for me to do from across the globe.” Y/N looked tense, with an almost forced smile. She looked awkward, before stepping back, holding the door open so George could come in.
---
“LOGAN SARGEANT!”
“Hello, dear sister, what do you want?”
“YOU GOT POINTS!”
“I think you must have watched a different grand prix, I got P12.”
“Hamilton and Leclerc got disqualified, something about wood, but you got points!”
“OH MY! AHHH! I had no idea, oh god!”
“YEAH! MY LITTLE BRO FINALLY GETTING F1 POINTS! WOOHOO! We must celebrate when we’re both in town!”
“AHH! Shit, wait I think people are coming in, give me a sec.
You’re on speaker dear sis, Alex, Oscar and George are here.”
“HELLO OSCAR! HI ALEX! HI GEORGE! DID SOMEONE BRING CHAMPAGNE???”
---
Y/N looks at the buzzing phone on her bedside table. Well clearly she had grabbed Logan’s phone before bed last night. She looked at the contact name
‘George - probably calling about something from the GDPA.’
She picked up.
“Before you start talking, I’m not Logan and I have not signed any NDAs related to his contract so, don’t talk to me.”
“Hi Y/N, do you know where Logan is?” George’s voice was way too cheery for however fucking early it is right now.
“Yeah he’s in his bedroom, he grabbed my phone and I grabbed his, why?” Y/N swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, still rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, can you come answer the door?”
“The door, why?” Y/N got up, and walked to her front door and opened the door to …nothing.
“George, are you pulling a prank on me? There’s nothing at the door.”
“You haven’t opened the door!”
“George… Logan and I are in Florida for Christmas. I’m guessing you’re in London.”
“Oh…yes. Bugger. I came to congratulate him on his contract renewal and so now I’ve got food and flowers and stuff and he’s not here!”
“If you go round the block to 20 XXX Close, there’s a single mom there, who will appreciate some Christmas cheer Georgie.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll send it over.”
“Why were you congratulating Logan, George? I didn’t think you cared. Only Alex and Oscar have reached out so far.”
“I..I remember what you said at the soccer match, about Logan feeling ostracised by all of us. So I’ve been trying to make him feel welcomed… not just because you said that, and I like you, but also because I kinda realised we’d all be failing him as a grid, so i thought if I started it, maybe others would catch on. It didn’t work, but I think he feels more included.”
“That’s very nice of you Georgie. I’ll pass on your congrats. Now it’s like 7am here, and I didn’t need to be awake today, so i will be heading back to bed. Night Georgie boy.”
397 notes · View notes
reverieblondie · 11 months
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Costume Party
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Pairing: Peter B. Parker X Fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with some Plot, Exhibitionism, Praise, Mask-Kink, Protected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Fingering, Pining.
Summary: At a costume party you run into a guy with a very impressive Spider-Man costume....He seems familiar...
A/N: So, I am not ashamed to admit it! I think Peter B is hot and needs more fics about him. For this story MJ and Peter are divorced. If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Miguel here.
Word Count: 6,245 (Not edited very well, sorry)
“I can't believe how crowded this place is, it’s not even Halloween yet?” 
You shout in the crowded bar filled with an array of costume-clad people. It was a week before Halloween and people were already out and about getting the Halloween festivities into full swing. Your friend Bea laughs at your remark.
“Well some people are trying to get the most out of their costumes, it's no fun you only get one night to enjoy it.”
“Like Mallory?” pointing your finger to the dance floor you see your friend Mallory dressed as an amazing Jason Voorhees tearing it up on the dance floor drawing in a crowd. Let's just say Mallory takes Halloween very seriously. 
Taking a moment just to appreciate your friend Bea breaks the silence, “Never thought I would see Jason twerking…” 
“You have to love her enthusiasm” you respond hypnotized by the slight. 
“Well Kitty Cat, I think Jason could use a dancing partner and Barbie is just the right person. Are you going to join us?” Bea dressed as cowgirl Barbie begins to dance over to Mallory as she keeps her eyes on you for your answer. 
“You two go for it, I'm going to walk around, maybe get some fresh air..” 
With that Bea gives you a nod and starts dancing with Mallory, rewarding you with the image of Barbie dancing with Jason Voorhees. Not being much for dancing you start walking around the party and watching the different costume-clad people having fun and interacting. There are Vampires, Werewolves, Nurses, disgraced celebrities, and ghouls galore! Costumes ranged from professional cosplayer level to a dude in a Spider-Man tee shirt and a plastic mask. No judgment though you went the basic route with your costume going as a sexy kitty, a costume that Mallory had loaned you from her vast collection. 
Mallory being the Halloween fanatic had invited you and Bea to this costume party at a popular club and with it being October, of course, it was a costume party. Not minding too much you had Mallory pick out a costume for you and off to the club you went. 
In all honesty, you needed a party to attend, work was starting to stress you out due to your boss being well a dick. Now three hours in the club is in full swing, the crowded floor and booming music all though enjoyable was starting to give you a slight headache. So needing to find a way to soothe your headache you decide to go outside to get some first air. 
Pushing your way through the club you find a backside door. Perfect! Haphazardly swinging it open, you hear a smack followed by a low groan. Quickly stepping out in the cool night air you see a guy in a very impressive Spider-Man costume rubbing his hand over his nose. Shit- 
Feeling guilty you rush over apologizing profusely, “Oh, I am so sorry! Are you okay?”
“Why are you swinging doors open so-” The masked man quickly stops mid-sentence looking at you in what seems to be a surprise, you can only assume due to the mask covering his face, but the white lenses grow wide looking at you so it tipped you off. Clearing his throat he finally looks away before speaking, “I’m fine don’t worry about it”
“Well I feel bad I smacked you pretty hard, is it broken?” You try reaching for the mask to lift it but he quickly holds his hands up moving away and stopping you. 
“I’ve taken worse hits, it’s no big deal really” He lifts his mask and reveals his lips and the tip of his nose. “See, not even bleeding,” he says with a slight smile. 
Woah, diggin the scruff there my guy, plus that cute smile? You couldn’t help yourself from blushing slightly. He lowers his mask again, seeming to be leaving but you interject. “Um Wait, I still feel bad! Maybe I can buy you a drink? To make up for my reckless door opening?” 
He seems to think for a moment, rubbing his hand on his chin. Watching as he eyes you for a moment, you can't see his eyes but you have a feeling he is talking to you all in. Adjusting your skirt you give a sweet smile trying to persuade him. 
“You're not going to hit me again, are you? kitty?”
The playful pet name has you biting your bottom lip quickly. Okay, flirt. Not knowing the way that costume is showing off his arms, the playful teasing, or maybe it's the mask but you're intrigued by him.  
 “Not unless you give me a reason too” you playfully say, opening the door and turning back for him to follow you in.  
“Well I will tread carefully then,” he follows closely behind you. 
Making your way with Spider-Man in tow, you push past all the different ghouls. Finally making your way to the bar you hand him a menu looking through one yourself. “Just try to steer away from the top shelf please.” 
This gets a laugh out of him as he leans against the bar, something about his laugh seemed familiar in a way but you couldn't place it. “I thought you were making up for hitting me with a door?” 
“I am, but you didn't bleed, if you had bled you could have gotten top shelf.” You tease and it causes him to laugh more, you're kinda surprised by yourself flirting with a random stranger but there is something about him that you just can't help it. The bartender finally makes their way over to you two, inquiring about your orders. Spidy orders an Old-fashioned while you order a Sbagliato, you can’t let him drink alone now, could you? 
Receiving your drinks you two sip and start chatting, common small talk, but both of you dance around the obvious question ‘What's your name’. Lost in the conversation you're just drinking the tall man in. Two things circle your mind as he talks; One you're really into the way his lips curl against the glasses rim and two his costume is really impressive now that you look at it closer. 
Spider-Man, New York's favorite hero, has become one of the most popular costumes. They ranged from kids' costumes to adults and even offered a sexy Lady Spider costume that you have seen a few times tonight. But this guy's costume was impressive. Not only did it look high quality, but it was like it was designed just for him to show off his assets. Was he completely jacked? No, but those strong arms and solid chest still had you blushing.
“I like your costume, Spider-Man he's a good one” This catches his attention and he looks towards you before responding. “You don’t think it's a bit…Overdone?” 
You chuckle “Maybe, But I'm dressed as a sexy kitty. I can't exactly judge someone on having an overdone costume.” This causes him to laugh sliding closer to you. “Plus, your costume is really impressive, looks professional quality.” reaching over lightly brush your fingertips across the web pattern.
“Well, I like your costume, I think you pull it off well, the ears are a nice touch” he turns to look at you and you can feel your face blush from the compliment. For a moment you feel his hand slightly graze your lower back, but it's only for a second before he moves away taking a long sip of his drink. Poor thing wants to flirt but doesn't want to seem like a creep. Giving him some reassurance to the flirting you squeeze his forearm feeling his muscle. 
“So, is the mysterious guy thing a technique of yours?”
He looks at you with a crooked smirk “What do you mean?” 
“You know, the whole masked man thing? Flirting with girls but never revealing who you really are, keeping us as strangers.” 
“Are you sure we are strangers?” he quickly interjects. oh? 
“Are we not?” you inquire with a smirk, something about him is familiar but you still can't place it.  
“Well, we have been talking for a while now, I think we have at least turned to acquaintances by now.” ah, that's what he means. “Well, I usually know my acquaintances' faces.” 
He leans in more, his mask still lifted showing off his grin “Well, what's the excitement in that?” 
-----
Now you're not exactly sure how you ended up in a dark booth but here you are still talking to your mystery man, he was right about the excitement, it made the flirting and slight touches just a little bit better.  
“I swear if my boss wasn't riding someone's ass he would die!” throw your head in your hands, somewhere in between small talk and flirting work was mentioned and you took the chance to vent. As you are ranting you feel a finger brush against your cheek then tucking a strain of hair behind your ear. You stop talking and feel all your breath escape you, his soft touch has your heart racing. 
Sliding closer to you he's whispering in your ear “You know kitty cat, it sounds like you need some stress relief…” -oh, word? 
“Is that so? And how are you going to relieve my stress?” I ask arching my back to lean in closer
Leaning in, he plays with a strain of your hair, he's so close to you know you feel his warm breath tickling your ear. The warmth radiating off him just causes you to shudder in excitement. “I figured I could fuck you so good you forget about your job…” 
The bluntness of his comment has your skin tingling with a sudden rush. With a shaky breath you respond, “T-that's big talk For s-someone who hasn’t even kissed me yet…” 
“Well then, let me kiss you,” he gently grabs your chin and brings you closer to his lips. Feeling the heat of your body rising to a fever you lean in with half-lidded eyes lips in a slight pout waiting for him to kiss your flushed face. Even though you can't see his eyes you can see the smile stretching to his lips and the blush starting to creep across what you can see of his face. 
“Please” is all you can whimper before he gently leads his lips to yours, the kiss is slow but intense. It made your body feel like you were on fire only to be cooled by his hands sliding up your thighs to then grip your hips bringing you closer. 
One of his hands plays with the hem of your skirt before slipping under to brush gently against your ruined panties, causing a quick gasp to escape your lips. Taking his opportunity he slips his tongue past your lips allowing him to taste you, while his finger pushes harder against your clothed folds pushing the ruined fabric further against your clit. 
Breaking away from the kiss you whine breathlessly as he continues to brush against your wet cunt. “We’re in public…” 
He just smirks as he slips his finger under your underwear running his long finger over your dripping slit, this causes a sudden moan to rip through you,  “shh, I know, your going to have to be quiet, there are other people around kid..” his honeyed voice teases as he continues to slowly push his finger in to curl into you. 
Shaking your head no you can't help but tighten and squirm as he touches you. Unable to contain yourself by letting out quiet moans as your wetness starts dripping down his fingers. Wanting to push you over the edge he starts rubbing tight circles at your clit with his thumb, which has your head being thrown back with a gasp. 
Ever the opportunist you're figuring out he kisses and licks your neck up to your ear. “Shh, We could go somewhere more private if you want?” 
Breathless trying to keep your cool you can only release a ‘mhmm’ before he's pulling his finger out of your weeping slit. Before you can complain you see him take his coated finger in his mouth, shutting you up. Surviving around he sees an empty-looking bathroom and nods his head towards it. Eyes completely blown, face fulling red you can only nod in agreement. 
Chuckling at your lustful expression he adjusts your cat ears on your head. Downing his drink he takes your hand and leads you out of the booth, he walks behind you and whispers in your ear, “I’m going to take such good care of you, such a good girl, you deserve to be taken care of” his soft phrases have you melting and eager to get him alone. 
 Before you can get to the bathroom, you quickly stop remembering something important, pulling him closer to whisper in his ear. 
“I will meet you over there. I have to get something from my friend really quickly.”
He pulls you for a kiss and bites your bottom lip when he pulls away. “Hurry, I need to make you feel good.” 
Nodding quickly you run off to go find your friend. Looking like a mad woman you're scanning all over the club for your friends till you see a shoulder-shimming Jason and you quickly make your way over. 
“Mallory, I need to get something from you!”  you say desperately as she continues to dance.
“Nuh uh call me by my name please” she teases as he swings her hips around.
“Uhhg, Jason I need a condom” 
Mallory suddenly stops dancing and slowly turns to you. “Excuse me-“
“Just give me the fucking condom!” You say you are fully frustrated, you have a sexy man wanting to ravish you, you don't have time for any teasing, you're hot and horny and need to go!
Mallory looks at you confused before reaching into her wallet and giving you the contraceptive. Before you can rush off she grabs your arm. “Just know you wouldn’t survive a horror movie.” 
Giving a quick ‘Thank you’ you run off to Spider-Man.
———
Rushing back you see him leaning against the wall near the bathroom. As you approach he is quick to grab your hand and lead you in. As soon as you're through the door he's locking it and pressing burning kisses to your lips backing you up to the cold wall. Gasping at the feeling of his hands slowly rubbing all over your curves he makes you wetter. 
“So pretty,” he mumbles as he brings you away from the wall, bending you over on the sink's counter in front of the mirror. Quickly peeling away your shirt he kisses up your spine and massages your breast. You can't help but push your ass into his strained cock feeling him twitch as you rub against him. placing his hand on your jaw he lifts your head to face the mirror. Kissing along your neck, Confused you go to make a snarky remark “What am I ah-”
A moan rips through you as two fingers are slipped through your puffy folds into your slit stretching you open instantly. He can only chuckle and he moves his lips to your shoulder, kissing you as he sinks knuckle-deep into your tight cunt. Moans slip from your lips as the stretch he's causing you, and this is only his fingers.
 After a single moment for you to adjust to his fingers, he curls them into you looking into the mirror watching as your face contours in ecstasy. “Nuh uh, Kitty, keep those eyes open, look at how gorgeous you are….” 
Shooting your eyes open you see his mask eyes on you with his lips cooing sweet words while he pushes faster into you curling slow and deliberate. Mouth hanging open you start to push your hips into his hand more.
“Oh, that feels good huh kid? You work so hard, like a good girl…”
.
All you can do is nod as you approach your high, feeling yourself clench around him approaching your orgasm. 
“Feels so good, I do work hard…” you moan out watching him through the mirror. He smiles and hums pushing you down further spreading your legs out further, now hitting your sweet spot. You can't help how you're moaning, and he just smiles like your moans are music to his ears. 
“A good girl like you, I can tell you do, ride my fingers till you cum, you deserve it….” Being supported by the squelching sound of your wet cunt and his sweet phrase you start rocking yourself back and forth faster and faster, slamming his long fingers into your dripping wet cunt. Chasing your high the orgasm rips from you and you cream all over his digits. It drips down his fingers falling to the floor. 
“Cumming so pretty for me,” he coos and he takes your costume off, you're still coming down from your high so you lazily watch through lidded eyes as he strips your skirt and panties off. Then swiftly peels down his suit and pulls his cock out and it's already pebbling with pre cum. Pumping his cock he watches your aroused clit swell and your spend slit clench around nothing. While rolling on the condom he coos at you. 
“You want to cum again?”
Watching him pump himself you let out a whine of yes arching your back to entice him to put it in. Chuckling he gathers your arousal around his cock teasing you further. 
 “Please! I need it!” 
“Oh? You need it alright, going to make it where you won’t forget about this cock kitty cat. Now look forward, I want those pretty eyes watching me.” 
Sliding into you smoothly his cock stretches you deliciously making you moan as he pushes further, filling you up. Your hands splay out over the sink counter, it's pure bliss that makes your mind clear of all the bullshit you have had to endure till this moment. Forget him fucking you so good you forget your job you're forgetting everything. He slowly starts his positioning into you, you can feel him resisting the urge to slam into you from the tight grip on your hips.  
“Oh your such a good girl for me, taking me so well”
He thrust into you faster into your messily wet cunt, His increased pace making your second high come all too quickly. Looking up you see him biting his lip as your pussy tightens around him, feeling him leaning over you, feeling sloppy kisses and nipping at your shoulders and neck as he rails into you deeper. Feeling his tip kiss your spot that has you seeing stars. 
“Don’t cum yet kitty, I want to feel you clench down on me more” his heavy breathing fans over your ear before he's kissing your earlobe. 
All you can do is whine as he keeps throbbing and pushing you. The shooting pleasure has your knees buckling and your body shaking. Moaning from you and him bouncing off the wall you feel him grab a handful of your hair and bring your eyes to the mirror. 
“Taking me so good, so good… ”  He thrust harder, losing all the remaining restraint he once had. Looking forward in the mirror your face is flushed, hair completely ruined, biting your lip hard. The knot in your stomach feels like it's about to burst. 
“Ah, I need to cum!” 
“Ah, cum on me baby,” 
Feeling your pussy clench tighter on him, his words make your knot snap as his cock throbs within you. Vision blurring your orgasm washes over you dramatically causing you to scream out and you make a mess all over his cock. Helping you ride your orgasm he reaches his fingers to your cunt he plays with it sending you further over the edge. 
Finally, with your cunt fluttering over him, you feel his cock throb and spurt while inside you reaching his high. Panting, he holds himself up on the contour, arms keeping you caged underneath him. It's quiet for a moment before he gently pulls out of you. Rubbing your back he carefully leans you up supporting you as you finally stand straight, your legs feel like jelly. 
As you catch your breath, he seems to have recovered mostly. Helping you get cleaned up, fixing your hair, and handing you your costume. As you get dressed you feel like you should say something to him, ask his name, ask for his number maybe? You want to see him again. 
“So um…” As you start to speak up he sees your nervousness. Quickly getting his costume back on he leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, then to your neck, moving to your ear lightly nipping at it to make you laugh. 
“I will see you next weekend on Halloween, here, okay?”
“Okay” 
With that, he puts his mask down helps you readjust your costume and walks you out of the bathroom. Before he leaves he whispers to you,” I can’t wait to see you again kid.” Kid…He keeps calling you that, it's familiar…
when you turn around to look back at him he’s gone.
——-
Typing away you are trying to get all of the meetings with the chief organized, you also have to organize all his paperwork, take all his calls, Go in and scribe for all his meetings or whatever rants he is making that you want you to write down. Then order him lunch, get his dry cleaning sent and delivered, and make sure he has dinner reservations to whatever place he's craving that night. All this while he is yelling at you to bring him coffee or whatever else he needs from around the newsroom. Working for J. Jonah Jameson was rough, especially as his assistant. 
While you are trying to get your work done you also have Bea in your ear, she was a copy editor at the Daily Bugle, however today she was ignoring her work, and all she could talk about was…
“I can’t believe it! I’m still in shock! You had sex with some random guy at the club!” 
People around your desk look at you two with puzzled expressions. Lowering your head you grimace “Yeah, why don’t you say it a little louder I don’t think the marketing department heard you.” 
Lowering her voice she continues to say “I’m sorry Y/N, I just can’t believe you hooked up with a random stranger at a club, that's pretty spontaneous…and you didn't see his face at all?” 
“Well, not fully I saw his lips and the tip of his nose…” 
“Kinky…so when you see him again are you going to wear a mask too?” rolling your eyes you look at her unamused “Are you done?” She laughs and hugs you as you continue to type. “For now until I think of more jokes or come to ask for more details.” 
During the hug, Jameson calls for you. Bea lets go of you and starts heading back to her department giving you a sad wave as she goes. Quickly rising from your desk grabbing your notepad just in case you hurry to your boss's office to see what he wants. Pacing in his office he is yelling at someone over the phone, a common tone for him. Jameson darts his scowl towards you and snaps at you, you quickly get ready to write something down but he shakes his hand and mouths the word ‘Coffee’ pointing to his empty mug. Ah, of course, go fetch him coffee. 
Backing away from the doorframe you suddenly feel that you are pressed against someone. Quickly turning your head to apologize, your breath catches in your throat. Smiling down at you, you're met with a familiar set of brown eyes that always makes you feel giddy, Peter B Parker. Carefully he places a hand on your waist gently moving you through the doorway. 
“Sorry kid, I have to squeeze past you,” he keeps his smile on you as he slips past. Once inside he takes his seat in front of Jameson's desk waiting for him to finish his call.
 As you're walking out you can't help but look over your shoulder to steal a glance of Peter, but when you do you catch Peter doing the same to you. Shooting you another smile you feel your face warm and quickly go to make your boss's coffee. 
Making your way back to Jameson's office, coffee made just how he likes you see that Peter is showing him his latest photos of Spider-Man. Glancing at the photos you are reminded of how talented Peter is, definitely one of the best freelance photographers that works for the paper. 
Honestly looking at some of the pictures you have to question how he was getting such incredible shots, he would never reveal his secret though. Peter had been gone for a couple of months, a nasty divorce apparently which made you rather sad. Peter was one of the nicest guys at the paper, he always talked and joked with you, treating you like an actual person, not everyone is always so nice. 
Now he was back you were excited that the Bugle would have some quality pictures and you got to see more of Peter again. Being honest with yourself you have a bit of a thing for him. Kind, super smart, incredibly funny plus not bad to look at either, how could you not end up with a crush? Though when you two first met he was married so that meant off limits, then the divorce happened and he did not take it well. Now that he's finally back he seems okay, you notice that he talks to you more and you two share more stolen glances but that could just be wishful thinking on your part. 
“Y/N!” Suddenly snapped from your thoughts you see your boss and Peter staring at you. 
“Yes sir?”
 Jameson rolls his eyes “I said quit your daydreaming and hand me my coffee!” Nodding you quickly hand him his coffee and decide that it’s time you took a break. 
--------
Plopping down in the breakroom you lazily look down at your coffee sighing. If only your masked stranger was here to relieve your stress again. Mind wandering back to that night you feel your face heat from what he said to you, how he touched you, his lips…lips…reminiscing back you think of that smile and the conversations, he seemed familiar? Especially that smile…and what did he mean when he said we might not be strangers? 
Face contorted in thought you fail to notice that Peter has walked into the breakroom. Reaching the top shelf Peter pulls down a mug and pours himself some coffee looking over at you he must see you lost in thought, “Penny for your thoughts?”
His voice startles you for a moment breaking your trance, Peter looks at you expectantly waiting for you to speak, You couldn’t repress the words flying from your mouth as you stared at Peter, “Would you fuck a stranger?”
“Uh, I mean I think I could manage it for sure. But I would hardly call us strangers?” He says with a smirk. Huh? -Deja vu
You roll your eyes you brush off the words with a laugh “It’s not a proposition it was just a question” 
“That’s a pretty specific question?” 
“Well, this weekend I was at a party and I met this guy…and he was so funny and charming that we, you know…” 
“Had sex” Peter says frankly finishing your sentence for you. 
“Yeah had sex” 
“Well sounds like your not strangers” 
“That’s the thing though, he kept his mask on…” 
Peter gives a long whistle “y/n? You are a freaky little thing aren't you?” 
Something about how he says that makes your body rush with excitement, it feels…familiar…shaking the feeling away you continue. 
“Do you think that's weird though? Like I didn’t see his full face at all.” 
Peter smirks to himself as he pours sugar and cream into his coffee. As he sits down he stirs his coffee listening to you ramble, “Well, I think it's up to you. Did you like it?” 
“I mean yeah, but it's still weird…but like a good weird, you know? It's exciting.” As you look up you see him listening intently to you, his eyes bright and smile soft, it makes your heart skip for a moment. 
“I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about this, I'm sorry..”
“Doesn't bother me, I'm the one who asked '' He playfully nudges your arm and you can't help but giggle. “Are you going to see him again?” 
“Yeah, same place Halloween night…kinda nervous about it” 
“Why, I mean you two already had sex at the club?” 
“Yeah, wait…how did you know we had sex at the club?” you look towards him with furrowed brows. Peter looks surprised for a moment but quickly responds “I heard your friend talking about it.” -of course he did…
Sighing you put your head in your hands. Peter pats your back “It’s not that bad I don't think everyone knows…yet..”
With a pout you place your chin in your hand leaning on the table, “It's not that, it's the mystery guy.” 
“What, you don't want to see him again?” 
“I do, just…what if he doesn't want to see me again?” 
Looking down at your coffee you're kinda in shock that you're confessing all this to your office crush, who does that? But suddenly you feel a familiar gesture, a finger sliding across your cheek tucking a strain of hair behind your ear. Looking over to Peter you see that same smile, it's just like...You feel your face heat up. Peter's face looks equally flustered, quickly he moves his hand and grabs his coffee. Standing quickly he mutters how he has to go, before he's out the door he turns around, “he would be crazy not to want to see you again y/n” 
With that, he leaves you a blushing mess. 
--------
“I’ve seen several Spider-man, are you sure none of them are your guy?” Bea says, taking a sip of your drink and adjusting her large hat for her ‘sexy witch’ costume. 
“No, his costume is high quality like a professional,” you say with a slight lisp, feeling irritated that the fangs for your ‘sexy vampire’ costume are making you talk weirdly. You go to take them out but Mallory quickly stops you.
“Hey don’t take them out, it breaks the illusion!” you sigh and stare disheartened at your friend Mallory in her idea of a sexy costume ‘sexy Mothman’. 
Bea had begged us all to dress sexy this go round and you and Mallory begrudgingly agreed so Mallory helped you get your vampire costume and even decorated you up with some blood, while she did her twist to a sexy mothman. 
“Maybe he's not here? Running late?” Mallory questions
“The party is in full swing, maybe he's in the bathroom waiting for you,” Bea nudges playfully. 
Sudden realization hits you and you quickly chug your drink down. Bea and Mallory look at each other and then back to you once you're done. Finishing the drink you slam the glass on the contour, “I think I know where he is” 
At a hurried pace, you make your way from the bar in the back of the club to the back door where it all started. Nerves swirled around in your gut, you hoped he was here, you wanted to see him, feel him, talk to him. You didn't want this to be another one-night thing, you wanted to know who he was and you had an idea or well maybe it was just wishful thinking. Having a week to agonize about who he was you had a pricking thought of who you imagined him to be. 
Making it to the door that started it all, you take a deep breath, take out the fake fangs, and open the door carefully this time making sure it doesn't fly open to hit any unsuspecting Spider-Men. Making your way out the door you don't see anyone and it causes your heart to sink. He's not coming.  
Suddenly you feel a hand on your hip, while the other brushes your hair back to expose your neck. You are scared at first till you hear that same honeyed voice “Glad you learned to open doors carefully kitty.” 
Surrendering to his touch you let his lips caress your neck, “I'm not a cat anymore, I'm a vampire.” turning you see that half up spiderman mask with that same sly smirk, you wrap your arms around his neck “I see you're still Spider-Man” 
He laughs and backs you deeper into the alley pressing you against the wall “Well, I wanted you to be about to recognize me” 
His lips quickly find yours kissing you passionately. Feeling his hands on your ass he swiftly lifts you making, you instantly wrap your legs around him. Looking around you're a little surprised “Really? In the alley? You're kinda the expansionist huh?”
He quickly catches your lips in another searing kiss then you feel his hand eagerly pawing underneath your dress, and then he stops suddenly. “Oh, you're a dirty girl. No panties tonight?”  
“I figured they would get in the way,” you say with a playful shrug.
He quickly lifts your dress more and starts to finger your already wet cunt. Moaning and squeezing your legs tighter around him you give into the familiar stretch. 
“Already so wet for me, pretty girl you're just perfect for me.” 
Kissing on your neck he's already rutting into you, it seems like he's as eager as you are. Your soaked cunt was getting his suit's crouch wet as he continued to rub into you, maybe it was him or the fact that you two could easily get caught by a wandering pedestrian, but you were burning with need. 
“Please...I need you…” you beg breathlessly
He kisses your lips quickly putting his suit pants down. Looking at him confused he just smiles, “What? I made adjustments for easy access, just for you kid.” 
Finally freeing his cock he has you hold on tightly to him as he swiftly rolls a condom on. Safe sex is hot sex, right? While sucking and kissing your neck to your collarbones he rubs his cock in between your folds making sure you're wet and shaking with need. 
“Come on spidy, I need you…”
With the last bit of begging leaving your trembling lips, he pushes in between your folds into your soaked heat with a loud groan. Thrusting in and out of you you can't help but moan and clench down on his length.  
“Ah, y/n…you feel so good…” 
As soon as your name slips from his lips he stops his thrusting and stills. Looking down with wide eyes your mouth is agape, “did…Did you just say my name?” 
Hesitating for a moment he tries to find the words but suddenly he's met with your lips crashing down to his eagerly devouring him. With the passionate kiss, he fucks into you faster than before breaking the kiss and grabbing your ass hard to thrust into you harder. Getting all your breath thrust out, you can hardly speak as you approach your high.  
“So you know, ah, my name?” 
He nods breathlessly continuing his rutting, cock throbbing. “Yeah, your costume, doesn’t hide your identity, Fuck!” 
Throwing your head back from the feeling of how deep he is, your moaning and confessing your own secrets as he fucks your roughly. Your Orgasm is about to rip through you, stars blur your vision. 
“I know who, ah…who you are” 
Kissing along your neck he faces you and whispers to your lips, “Yeah? Say my name then..” 
Feeling the knot in your stomach about to snap it's now or never. Holding onto him tightly he's pushing his tip right into your sweet spot, bringing your moaning lips to his ear and whispering the name you're hoping to be him. 
“Peter, Peter B Parker '' While you say his name you grab the rest of his mask and reveal the rest of his face, you are met with those heart-melting brown eyes. And that sexy smirk. There he was in all his glory, your mystery man- Peter B 
“Well you're quite the little detective, you should get a reward kid…”  You smirk and give him a kiss rocking your hips into him as he thrust harder. Breaking the kiss you moan, “Just make me cum Peter!”
“Anything you want, pretty girl,” Rutting deeper and grunting heavily in your ear, your knot is snapped and you're creaming all over Peter's cock. Fucking you through your high he finally cums from your tight cunt clenching around him trying to milk him dry. 
Carefully he stands back up both of you staring and panting at each other. Peter quickly pulls your dress back down, then tucks his length away. His hands cup your face and he litters your face and neck with kisses, seems happy you figured his secret out. 
“Have any more secrets for me, Peter?” You say smugly holding up his mask. 
Peter smiles at you and takes the mask from you. Grabbing a hold of your hips once more he pulls you close to press against his chest. “I could tell you, or I could show you?” 
-This should be good…
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aziraphales-library · 2 months
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Hey! Thank you so much for all the amazing you do…!
I just wondered if you had any good recommendations for fics with audio options?
Thanks!!
Hello! I assume by audio options you mean podfics? We have a #podfic tag with a few. I don't listen to them myself, but here are some fics I've read and loved that have podfics available...
[Podfic] Petrichor & Parchment by Literarion (E)
“Mr. Crowley, I presume?” Aziraphale asked in lieu of an introduction, which was not forthcoming. The guy hadn’t even removed his sunglasses. Oh God, he had a tattoo on his face. Aziraphale wasn’t one to judge, but… what kind of gardener had a snake tattoo on his face?
[Podfic] Summer's End by Literarion (E)
2095. Britain is a post-apocalyptic wasteland ravaged by droughts, the collapse of civilisation, and hordes of the undead. Despite that, Aziraphale’s life is actually pretty good. He has his caravan, his books, and his work, offering his services to the men who stop by Tadfield on their arduous journey north. One day, a mysterious stranger knocks on his door. Crowley is charming and handsome and he appears to know his way around a vegetable garden. He comes with the tempting offer of a mutually beneficial arrangement. But it’s in Aziraphale’s best interest not to get too attached. A dystopian cottagecore sex worker AU.
[Multivoice Podfic] Choose Your Princes Wisely by Multiple (T)
“There’s an enchanted castle West in the Hellian slopes, and apparently it comes with a prince looking for a bride or bridegroom to free him from a dark fae’s curse.” “I see,” Aziraphale says finally, when he realizes both Gabriel and Uriel are staring at him expectantly. “You want me to marry a beast?” Gabriel's mouth flattens. “I want you to take this gods’ blessed opportunity to secure your family’s future for good." OR Aziraphale is a professional quest hero who just wants to sit by the fire and read a book, if his overbearing family will ever let him; Crowley is a serpent demon who needs a gullible hero he can con into gathering some critical ingredients for a human corporation spell. Hijinks and a lot of terribly inconvenient feelings ensue.
[Podfic] Something to do with these sacred words by nantook (T)
Crowley confesses early, and Crowley confesses often. Aziraphale never knows quite what to say.
[Podfic] Right Here by Im_Not_Occult (E)
Although Aziraphale has sensed Crowley's love for millennia, after their trials he decides to be honest about his own feelings. So desperate to finally be close, Aziraphale doesn't anticipate that physical intimacy might be rather overwhelming for an ethereal being in a human body. He has wonderfully transcendent celestial experiences that take him away from the moment with Crowley. Together, he and Crowley discover a new level of intimacy as they try to work out this issue--and the shape of their new Arrangement. Featuring: 16k words of unrepentant softness, open conversations about sex, ethereal and human intimacy, a certain promised picnic, and a little bit of bickering between hereditary enemies.
[Fic & Podfic] Press L in the Chat (for Love) by Multiple (E)
Bickering fan-content creators Aziraphale and Crowley only have three things in common — they are both avid fans of a new revolutionary TV series about pirates, they are popular for their fantastic fanfiction and fanart… and they are members of the same discord server. Neither of them likes the other, but across the chaotic virtual world of a discord chatroom, who knows what can happen when these two unlikely fans are paired up for an exciting collaboration? Us. We know ;) Discord Server AU — a collaboration between Phoenix_Soar (fic) and Djapchan (multivoice podfic organization & editing) for Pod-Together 2022
- Mod D
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worlds-worst-ships · 2 months
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Do you ship it? ((C*nt of the month edition) trying not to get banned)
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Hi Matt! Since I know comedians these days love googling themselves and finding things about them that piss them off so they can whinge on stage about it, I have something to show you. Here's a list of people in history with disabilities who made more of an impact on the world than you could possibly imagine;
1: Michael Bisping, professional MMA fighter, had multiple fights at the highest level on the trot with an impressive win ratio with a missing eye, unbeknownst to anyone but him (would love to see you make fun of him)
2: Albert Einstein, most famed and celebrated professor of the 20th century, was on the autistic spectrum. Gave more to the world in a year than you did in your life.
3: Tim Burton, among the most famous directors, producers and animators in history, revolutionizing goth culture in his long career, is also autistic. He put in far more work than standing on stage and being a dick.
4: Stephen Hawking. Even an idiot like you knows this one. I'll leave it at that.
5: Hellen Keller, was literally deaf and blind for most of her life and was still a famous author. So whats your excuse for writing such shit, tasteless jokes?
6: Zack Gottsagen, an actor with down syndrome, became the first actor with down syndrome to present an Oscar.
7: Stevie Wonder. I imagine even he could see how utterly insufferable modern comedians are.
Nooooow then, lemme guess, "yOu'Re jUsT a PiSsEd oFf TrAnS pErSoN gEtTiNg OFfEnDeD" lemme tell everyone something about myself.
I'm not trans.
I'm straight.
I have no physical disabilities whatsoever.
I actually don't get along with a lot of lgbt people because they're, guess what, PEOPLE, very few of whom I get along with anyway. Its never once been to do with their identities or rights, but purely because, as is the case with every demographic, most of the ones I've met are pricks.
"BuT ThEy GEt OFfEnDeD-" yes, when you deliberately scroll twitter looking for offended lgbt people, you tend to stumble across them. Wouldn't ya know it?
Anyways. Comedy is dog shit. Getting up on stage and deliberately being edgy because you've lived no sort of life away from people who you know you'll offend is not talent. Its something a 14 year old with an inferiority complex would do. Thanks for being another nail in the coffin of actual, watchable comedy.
Oh yeah, and if you want an example on how to actually joke about domestic violence, cross-reference the name "Wilbur" on my blog. See, its funny when you're making fun of the abuser and the fact that they do these things, but not when you mock a victim and make fun of them for having these things happen to them. Never once do I mention his victims, its purely making fun of him and the sheer absurdity of his behavior in the scope of who he is. And we're on Tumblr, literally the symbol of people getting offended, and never once have I gotten backlash for those jokes, so you, as a man with a Netflix special, have no excuse for such lacking creativity.
One last thing, for my readers... anyone wanna bet some petty cash that a woman or three from his past are gonna come out with a few tasty bits of drama about ol' Matty boy, if you know what I mean?
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jerzwriter · 1 month
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Kaycee has had an exceptionally rough week and is nearing the end of her rope. That's when her secret boyfriend, Ethan, comes up with a plan to help them both recoup. But will their cover be blown? Book: Open Heart (Late Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan) Rating: Teen Words: 2,300 Trope: Hurt/Comfort; Secret Romance Summary: Above A/N: Participating in @choicesaugustchallenge - Day 2 - Beach Date; also sundress & fireworks. I did not have time to edit much, so be kind :)
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It had been the week from hell. Kaycee glanced at her watch and grimaced. Slumping against the nurses’ station, she rubbed her temples with a sigh as Sienna looked on sympathetically.
“I’m never going to make it,” Kaycee groaned. “Five more hours? Nope. I’m not going to make it.”
“You’ll make it just fine,” Sienna said with a reassuring smile. "But what’s going on?”
“It’s been a very tough week.  Two double shifts, code after code, too many accidents, several difficult patient losses... I’m just... I'm burnt out. I need a break."
At that moment, Ethan approached the nurses’ station. Deeply involved in a conversation with Harper, he hadn’t noticed Kaycee at first, but he raised his eyes with concern when he heard the tail-end of her conversation.
“That’s a lot,” Sienna replied. “We've all had those weeks, and they're hard. So, besides the batch of Snickerdoodle cookies that I'll be making for you, is there anything I can do to help you?”
“I'll be fine,” Kaycee half-smiled, angry at herself for the tears rising in her eyes...she should be stronger than this. “But I could really use a hug.”
That’s all she had to say. Sienna jumped up from her chair and wrapped Kaycee in a warm embrace. “Hey,” Sienna whispered. “When’s your next break? Why don’t we take a walk to Derry’s? The change of scenery might help.”
“I’d like that,” Kaycee smiled softly. She wiped a tear that threatened to fall from the corner of her eye and turned back to the station. That’s when her eyes met Ethan’s.
His heart had been clenching in his chest as he watched the situation unfold. He understood her more than most, and with just a glance, he could see her pain and self-doubt forming.  All he wanted to do was hold her, but he couldn’t. Not here. The rumor mill was already abuzz with gossip about the two of them, but they decided to keep their relationship under wraps. It was best for everyone, but at times like this, it didn’t feel ‘best’ at all.
All he could do was nod sympathetically in her direction, aware that this act alone could raise brows. After all, in the past, catching a resident in Kaycee's condition would have launched him into a tirade advising them to reconsider their career choices... now... he no longer felt that way, and it wasn’t only with Kaycee. He had to admit, she had brought a level of humanity back to him, one he thought for sure had been lost for good. Kaycee had changed his world for the better in so many ways, and here she was suffering, and he had to pretend he didn't see.
“Harper,” Ethan interrupted. “Would you mind if we scheduled sometime later to discuss this? I just remembered I have to tend to something right now.”
He headed to his private office and texted Kaycee to meet him there. In case prying eyes were around her, he made it professional but included a code they had created.
“Dr. MacTavish, can you please come to my office? I’m questioning your judgment on her treatment plan for the patient in 215."
“I’m questioning your judgment.” Kaycee hid her smile when she read those words. That’s what he told her the first time she told him that she loved him. “I question your judgment, Rookie,” he grinned. Now, when they sent those words to each other, it was code for "I need you."  
Kaycee rushed to his office, assuming he needed help. When she stepped in, he greeted her with a stern gaze and gruffly instructed her to close the door. She complied at once, and by the time she turned around, he was already there – wrapping her in a warm embrace.  
“What’s going on, Kaycee,” he said with a kiss atop her head. “I can tell you’re having a hard day.”
“I am,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder and clutching the lapels of his lab coat. "Don't worry. I’ll get through. Sometimes, it’s just... hard."
He led her to the sofa, where he watched intently as she talked. “It’s not one thing; it’s a myriad of things that all add up. I’m working more than usual this week, so I'm exhausted. I’ve had a bunch of difficult cases. I haven’t been eating or sleeping right, and...” she hesitated.
“And?”
“And sometimes all I want is my boyfriend to squeeze my hand as I pass him in the hall to reassure me that everything will be OK, but we can’t even do that.”
“Kaycee, you know I want to. It's just...”
“Shhh,” she smiled sadly, silencing him with a kiss. “I know why we can’t, and I agree with our decision. But that doesn’t make it easier.”
“It’s not forever,” he reminded as she nuzzled closer, her arms pulling her tight.
In an attempt at levity, he chuckled. “Hey, at least you didn’t catch anyone flirting with me today.”
Kaycee’s hand was already on the doorknob when she turned around and smirked. "Fifth floor, by the elevator. That damn nurse from peds that still thinks she has a chance with you.”
“You caught that?” Ethan winced.
“Don’t worry,” Kaycee winked. “You handled it like a pro.” She mouthed I love you, as she opened the door, and he did the same. The situation wasn’t ideal, but Kaycee had to admit she felt much better.
Unfortunately, Ethan did not. He loved and admired her more than he could express. He needed to offer her more than five minutes of support hidden in the shadows as if they were doing something wrong when nothing could be further from the truth.
He immediately checked their schedules; they were both off this weekend, and his wheels began to spin.
~~~~~
Saturday morning, Kaycee was waiting on the front steps when Ethan pulled up to her home. He smiled as she approached the car wearing his favorite sundress, a pair of sunglasses covering too much of her beautiful face, and a big floppy hat perched precariously atop her head. She was adorable, but he hoped this was just her style and not an attempt to disguise herself. After all, that’s exactly what he hoped to avoid this weekend. She slid into the passenger seat and squeezed his hand, giving him a surreptitious kiss on his cheek.
“You look adorable,” he smiled.
Kaycee lowered her sunglasses and shot him a look. “I’ll take it... though usually for hot with you... not adorable."
“You’re always hot,” he growled. Kaycee went to put her sunglasses back on, but he stopped her. “Nah-ah-ah. Take those off.”
“Why?”
Ethan reached into the glove compartment and retrieved a black blindfold. Kaycee raised a brow. “What’s that for?”
“I don’t want you to know where I’m taking you. It’s a surprise,” he held the blindfold up. “May I.”
“Fine. As long as this isn’t something kinky,” she smirked.
“It’s not,” he laughed. “At least not now.”
The ride was longer than expected, and at times, the blindfold became a bit annoying. But the constant conversation and Ethan not letting go of her hand helped. Then, he even put on her playlist, and she had to ask what he was up to. But all he did was chuckle and kiss her hand.
When the car finally stopped, and he opened her door, a smile crept onto Kaycee’s face. She could smell the salty air and knew they were at the beach at once. It had become a special place for him, though this summer hadn’t afforded them many chances to go. He helped her to her feet and untied the blindfold. She couldn't stop smiling when she saw where they were. The little cabin they had rented on the Cape once before was right in front of her.
“I thought this place was rented straight through next summer!” she beamed.
“It is,” he said, grabbing a bag from the trunk. “I’m not going to tell you what I had to do in order to get this.”
“Hey, as long as it has nothing to do with that hot nurse in peds, I’m OK with it,” she winked.
He took her hand and led her toward the front door. “It’s only for one night,” he said. “I’ll be sure to have you back for your evening shift tomorrow. But, I thought we could use some time away from Boston. I wanted to be someplace we can be ourselves and where we don’t have to hide. Here, I’m not Dr. Ramsey, and you’re not Dr. MacTavish – we’re just a couple – enjoying our time together.”
Kaycee’s face lit up. “God, Ethan... I love you,” she beamed. “But I didn’t pack. You didn’t say it was an overnighter.”
He lifted the bag at his side with a smile. “I packed for you. Besides, once we return here tonight, clothing will be optional.”
“I like the way you think,” she purred.
They spent the day strolling the beach, splashing in the surf, and stopping at quaint shops in town. Ethan took her to a little café that he used to visit with his parents years before and was delighted to see they still served old-fashioned egg creams, and he ordered two right away. He held her hand as they watched children flying kites, and he had to smile at how Kaycee stopped to make friends with every single dog they passed along the way.
“If medicine doesn’t walk out for you, I think a doggie daycare is the way for you to go,” he laughed.
“Please! Don’t tempt me!”
They sat on a dock as the sun began to set, their feet dangling over the side as they worked quickly to lick their ice cream cones to prevent the melted ice cream from falling onto their hands.
“What’s next?” Kaycee asked.
“Fireworks,” he grinned. “They’ll be starting as soon as the sun sets.”
Kaycee nuzzled her head into his shoulder, and his hand looped around her waist.
“This has been the perfect day, Ethan. This is exactly what I needed.”
It was what he needed, too. A day when they put their professional lives behind them. A day away from prying eyes and gossiping lips. He was just Ethan. She was just Kaycee. Just a couple lost in each other on a beautiful beach.... and they didn’t have to hide!
They were basking in the glow as the sun descended, and the fireworks were about to start. Kaycee giggled with anticipation as she held Ethan’s hand when...
“Ethan? Ethan Ramsey? Is that you?”
Ethan's body stiffened, and Kaycee’s heart skipped a beat. “Is that?” she asked, immediately dropping her hand from his.
“It is,” he sighed.
Peter Blumenthal, from Edenbrook’s Board of Directors. With him are his wife, Eugenia, and their daughter, Kimmie, whom Peter had been trying to push Ethan for years.
“Don’t leave me,” he winced, though he knew she had no choice. Adjusting her hat to conceal her identity, she managed to tell Ethan she’d meet him back at the cabin, and then she disappeared into the crowd that had assembled on the pier.
From a distance, Kaycee heard them exchanging pleasantries. She could sense Ethan’s discomfort in his voice, and she wished she could swoop in and save him, but she couldn't. Her hat bopped on her head as she moved along, apologizing as she bumped into people as she pushed her way through the crowd. She reached their little cabin and shut the door behind her just as the fireworks began, her face faltering when she realized they’d have to be missed.
She sat on the couch and waited for him to return. With each passing moment, she missed him, but in this instance, she got the better end of the deal. She knew how much he hated dealing with Board Members at work; she could only imagine how irritated he was having to do it now. Her heart fluttered with delight when she heard him at the door.
“Hey,” she beamed. “Are we safe? They didn’t see me, did they?”
Ethan sat beside her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. “If they did, they didn’t let on. They were too busy trying to marry me off to Kimmie.”
“Oh, hell no!” Kaycee laughed. “Sorry, Kimmie, but this man is all mine!”
"You better believe it!" Ethan looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I’m so sorry it's like this, Kaycee. We shouldn't have to be a secret and I know how hard this is."
Kaycee waived her hand, easing his concern. “Baby, it’s OK. I don’t like it either, but we know why we’re doing it. In the end, we’re protecting me most of all. I worked too damn hard to get to where I am for anyone to suggest I slept my way to the top.”
“Well, on an up note, Edenbrook and Boston are rather progressive. If we were caught, there would be at least as many people who believed I was a vile man preying on an innocent young resident. So...” he grinned cheesily. “Both of our careers would be ruined.”
“Good,” Kaycee laughed, “That makes me feel so much better.”
Ethan pulled her closer, and they kissed passionately as the boom of pyrotechnics exploded in the distance.
Kaycee pulled away, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It was a perfect day, Ethan. But I hate that we have to miss the fireworks!”
Ethan cupped her cheek, and she knew that look in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say we’re missing the firework,” he said, pushing her sundress strap off her shoulder and gently kissing the bare skin left behind. “We’re going to have fireworks right here, just not the kind that blow up in the sky.”
"Oooh," Kaycee groaned with delight. “I like that kind so much better."
"As do I," he replied, scooping her up and rushing to the bedroom.
While tourists and locals spent the night watching the spectacular show in the sky, Ethan and Kaycee spent it lost in their own world, lost in each other. While they wished they didn't have to hide at all, tonight, they had to admit, they wanted nothing more than to hide away—together.
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
Tagging others separately.
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friendlyengie · 1 year
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i bloody love your fem merc designs, but wheres the love for medics ex wife?? you cant just drop a bomb ass character and the not give her a lil attention
you’re absolutely right and I’m so sorry. She’s been one of the hardest to pin down but this ask inspired me to give her more appreciation. Gobless you. Here’s some images
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Um. Big? Tall. I’ll never understand the way people slim down any iteration of fem medic like. She should be just as ripped as he is. This is how love wins. Medic is pretty similar to canon medic in regards to her appearance, but that’s counteracted by their very different personalities. She’s a lot more professional than he is, holding herself and her work in high regard. Their methods are more alike than she’d admit in regards to the whole “affront to god” theme, but she’s convinced in one way or another that she’s on a higher level than he is just because she doesn’t do a mad scientist laugh every time she has some sort of breakthrough.
She uses her monopoly on healing to keep the rest of her team on a tight leash. If they act up when she’s around (or just annoy her at the wrong time of day) they can kiss any direct support on the battlefield goodbye. And any support they want outside of work hours is done through a barter system. As in, they come to her with broken arms or missing limbs, and she berates them for whatever stupid thing they were doing and says she’ll fix them if they let her try out some new super cool and safe method she’s been planning or whatever. Normal woman hours.
Her teams engineer is the one thing keeping her from total control of the team on account of her own support mechanics. and Medic HATES her for that. Old woman rivalry
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lots of a words not a lot of quality images… wanted to draw something bigger for her but these have been on the back burner long enough. Hope you guys like mean old women! That’s all I got here!
QUICK EDIT sorry if any of this is incoherent it’s midnight and I’ve been fighting against the melatonin I took an hour ago in order to post this before I sleep. Thank you for the ask btw ^_^
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betterbemeta · 4 months
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I think AI Art exploits and degrades not just artists, but every single person who looks at it in some ways because 'how we look at art' is part of art itself.
This principle is super easy to experience as an artist. All you have to do is practice and reach a plateau where things you did before seem worse to you, that felt great at the time you made them. Your ability to see art changes as you make art, and as you view art.
It's not snobby to say that there is a low average level of 'seeing' art. There's also a low average level of seeing technical design, or seeing weather patterns, or seeing copy editing mistakes and that's why we have architects and engineers, meteorologists, and professional editors. I think a lot about this bit by Scott McCloud in Understanding Comics:
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Like the point here is not that 'most people are superficial', but that the surface of art is what most people are familiar with. And it is this basic familiarity that I believe AI Art exploits to fake integrity, something that even the most well-known laughably 'bad art' still technically has.
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Like, laugh all you want but effort went into the surface of this art such that it appeared 'okay' to the one who made it, and to those who maybe aren't paying attention or see that its colored and shaded first, the anatomy last. It relies sort of on your familiarity with 'what art looks like' to accept it, but not completely. Someone did work to try and earn your acceptance even if, uh, it's not very good in some ways.
But AI Art relies fully on how unfamiliar you are with art. Let's call this principle 'glamour'.
At first 'the glamour' is unconvincing: this is during the AI's training. But the first 'pass' is the threshold where information builds up about how to reproduce a minimally acceptable image. This is where the glamour is set: the minimum accuracy to convince a human being to fill in its gaps. To basically capture their imagination. From there, front-end use of the machine learning model is released for general users, and it is those users who then select out of many outputs which glamour fools them most. As the other half of this system, the hidden decision-maker, humans are also 'learning' familiarity with the glamour: comparing it to not just our surface knowledge but to itself. We have left reality.
A good example of this can be seen in AI-generated pictures of fiber crafts. It's possible that traditional or digital artist might not be perfect with their drawing or perspective or coloring etc. or may stylistically push the boundaries of perspective or form on purpose. But for a knit, crocheted, or sewn piece a final product often can't exist without its craft having physical integrity:
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Aside from the issues that are obvious (fake tilt shift photography with no consistent field of blur, a spaghetti yarn ball, unknown stitch on the vest, no comprehensible seam between the arm and the body, etc.) here are some things that stick out to me to knowing even a little about knitting,
The fake stockinette on the helmet is confused about whether it is completed horizontally or vertically: vertical on the headband (many hats terminate this way, so there are plenty of images to sample) but indecisive when it has to become a round hat shape.
The number of rows on the arms is inconsistent, decreasing strangely where a k2tog would never be.
There is no consistent way the hands make sense, if they are 'mittens' or if the stockinette ridges become 'fingers'.
We can't see how the bottom of the foot was finished: the left foot either began or was decreased to meet at a central point but it doesn't match the right foot and it's not clear how either foot keeps it shape.
Beyond the plagiarism of the images that went into generating AI outputs, your diminishing time to learn about/be exposed to 'things' (beyond just 'art,' anything that isn't essential to your survival) will become increasingly exploited in the future. If left unchecked, images like these will represent not only novelties or etsy scams but a large amount of people's exposure to 'things' in general. Which then leads to something like AI inbreeding (AI generating based on AI), except like... with you.
When people are more familiar with a glamour than 'the real thing', even superficially.
Exploitation of this type isn't even a new thing. It's just that AI can speed it up or extend it to new spheres. Anyone can see a physical table and think 'this table is crap' if it's poor quality because of how much we use tables and our knowledge of what tables are and should do. But I think the blog McMansion Hell actually illustrates a real, practical situation where the familiarity level with a craft (architecture) is low and standards lower to meet it. These hulks were certainly built to invoke 'glamour', but when closely inspected, they have the design equivalent of 12 fingers or bra straps bleeding into someone's skin.
Another easy example might be the excessive 'glamour' that surrounds selling cars in the USA. Very few people will buy enough cars to become more than superficially familiar with them and the amount of people who are car-related professionals is negligible next to the number of people who require a car.
Both cars and houses are expensive purchases that are made relatively infrequently, which is why their brokers and dealers can bet against a customer's average level of knowledge. But soon, many more things may become like buying houses or cars: obscured by glamour.
AI Art relies on you to be a sucker, just like how a sketchy sales rep depends on you to be a sucker. Except even worse than the sales rep, your brain is expected to not just be dumb and inexperienced, but also to get actively dumber over time from doing all the work too.
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tgmsunmontue · 4 months
Text
850 word ficlet for the topgunalternativeuniverse Bingo which I realised I should start ticking off so I can hopefully achieve at least one Bingo... Also for @thyknife for doing their editing!
Hangster - for the squares Stripper and Handyman. Teen+
Not here for you. Maybe next time?
                Long denim-clad legs, tight white t-shirt, low-slung leather tool belt with actual authentic looking tools. He definitely looks the part, he can see muscles in all the right places and even if the stripper isn’t booked for him he’s definitely going to appreciate the show. Part of Bradley is impressed, except for the fact that the guy has the day and time completely wrong. Or maybe the guy has the wrong house.
                “Uh, hey man. I think you have the wrong house.”
                “Three-forty-one Riverview Terrace?”
                “Uh. Yeah. That’s us, but we didn’t…” order a stripper he wants to say, except they did, but not for tonight. “Did you get the date right?”
                Now the guy is looking confused.
                “Uh. Usually when people call me they want me over as quickly as possible.”
                “Really?” Bradley asks, because he didn’t realize that emergency strippers were a thing.
                “Yeah, really. I had someone named Natasha call me? And as pretty as you are, I don’t think you’re Natasha.”
                “Uh. I thought Callie booked the stripper.”
                “A stripper? I am not here to take my clothes off…” the guy says, but he does sweep his eyes down Bradley’s body like he’s mentally undressing him and Bradley is pretty sure he’s blushing. “Not this time, anyway.”
                Before Bradley has time to reply Natasha is behind him, pushing him to the side and Bradley just stands there, gaping a little because the very hot stripper just made a pass at him. Maybe.
                “Oh! Are you Jake?” Natasha asks, and Bradley realizes then that he’s probably made a severe error of judgement, and it is mortifying on several levels.
                “Yes ma’am.”
                “Great! Can you come through and take a look?”
                “Of course,” the guys says, shooting Bradley an amused look. He wants the ground to open up and swallow him. Knowing that isn’t going to happen he needs to go and hide; why the hell hadn’t Natasha warned him? Also what had needed someone else’s help with, usually he handles all the odd jobs around the house, he’s a carpenter, he knows how to fucking fix things. He loiters within ear shot to find out that the two-phase oven they have in the kitchen, which apparently has two fuses, has somehow tripped something else and okay, if it’s wires and electricity then he isn’t touching it. He can stop feeling bad about her calling in a professional for that at least.
                The guy is making small talk, and his ears prick up at hearing his name.
                “Oh no, Bradley can’t do wiring. He knows his own limitations at least.”
                “Good thing to have in a boyfriend, some guys are too egotistical to admit when they don’t know.”
                “Not my boyfriend, or anything else other than my best friend. And you’re as subtle as pink pantsuit at a white party”
                “Wasn’t trying to be subtle. And it’s all fixed by the way. You can get back to toasting your tater tots.”
                “That was fast.”
                “Well, I’m good at my job. You have anything else that needs looking at? You’ve got me for the minimum hour callout…”
                “I wouldn’t know, but Bradley will. One second.”
                Then she’s right there, eyes alight with mirth and laughing silently, because she obviously heard him before she interrupted and he could kill her.  He tries, with his eyes, right then and there, but it only makes her laugh more, and if it continues she’s going to start snorting, which is going to be another level of humiliation. Who needs enemies when you can have friends that laugh at your pain like this?
                “Anything you need help with?” Natasha asks, and Bradley shoves her. He’s annoyed, because there actually is something, and he steps past her, heads into the kitchen where Jake is waiting, and yeah, he still looks like a fucking stripper, but now that he’s looking properly he can see the multimeter, tester, wire strippers all hanging off the leather apron tool belt.
                “Hey man, uh, sorry about before. I’ve got a live switch to outside that needs to be made dead.”
                “Sure thing, lead the way.”
                Bradley leads him to outside to where the pump to the outdoor fountain is, the pump itself long gone, wires just loose and tucked back into the concrete plinth of the now defunct base. He gestures at it, can immediately appreciate that Jake is reviewing the scene, poking around a bit before he gets to work. He tests the wires and socket, then pops the switch cover off, then he’s unscrewing things and cutting things; jogging to his van, muttering about a torch and Bradley just watches. Then he’s slipping a sheath over wires and using a blowtorch to make it shrink to cover the wires.
                “So, interesting fact for you. I was a stripper when I was younger. Good money. Electricians generally have better working hours though.”
                “God, I’m sorry,” Bradley says. “I didn’t mean any disrespect…”
                “Well, that’s okay. If no disrespect was meant. Anyway. Here’s my card. If you’re ever looking for a private show… Call me.”
                “Okay, I will.”
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duckprintspress · 25 days
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Sorry for being a little in the dark, but can you explain what happened with NaNoWriMo? Or at least point me towards some resources pls?
Hey anon!
Never apologize for that. Life is so fucking busy, no one can be apprised of everything going on all the time. Our brains would break even trying. Anyway, multiple things have happened with NaNoWriMo, but for the current debacle, the best answer is probably to read their own words as appended in a reblog to my original post about how to delete.
The TL:DR is, to paraphrase NaNo's own words (after they got a sponsorship from ProWritingAid, an "AI" company), they support using "AI" as part of NaNoWriMo, accusing people who disagree of being ableist and classist.
Having read both their statements, they at least imply that they mean "AI" such as grammar checkers, rather than generative "AI," but they don't actually clarify and it's at best ambiguous if they include generative LLM as being allowed and reasonable. When people got upset with them, they doubled down, saying things like "not everyone can afford an editor," which as someone who personally couldn't afford an editor and so taught myself to edit at a professional level over ten years, I'll own I find a fucking insane and insulting take. A lot of us worked our asses off to learn these skills, and it's not classist to suggest that other people...can learn too. But also...like...if I was certain they only meant grammar checkers, I might be a bit more forgiving (I mean, I use Word's grammar checker, though it's often wrong), but which LLM usages they're actually defending isn't clarified and they jump right to defending their position by tarring people who disagree with them as -isms, and that's some kinda bs argument right there.
To be clear, I think policies banning people from using LLMs in events like NaNoWriMo or on platforms like AO3 is an exercise in futility. Bans are unenforceable, and attempts to moderate will turn into harassment tools. The line between "work written by someone who isn't proficient yet" and "LLM" isn't clear, and policing that line would consume huge amounts of moderating effort for basically no benefit. IMO, for places like AO3 the best bet is simply transparency, as in, people using LLMs should fucking tag it.
To be clear secondarily, putting my "I own a small Press" hat, if someone sends us something verifiably LLM-generated, they will be permanently banned, but honestly, even something I can't verify as LLM-generated, like. Won't be good writing. It might be technically precise but an LLM can't generate a coherent story because it can't think or remember. It's just a word-probability engine. We've never had an LLM-generated submission to the best of my knowledge, but if we did, well. Ban hammer.
Anyway. Sorry. I got off topic. The point is, NaNo basically said we were all ableist and classist because we want people to write (even if they write badly!) for the...write a novel challenge.
And this made a lot of people very angry.
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The AI Boom and the Mechanical Turk
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A hidden, overworked man operating a painting, chess-playing robot, generated with the model Dreamlike Diffusion on Simple Stable, ~4 hours Created under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?
In 1770, an inventor named Wolfgang von Kempelen created a machine that astounded the world, a device that prompted all new understanding of what human engineering could produce: the Automaton Chess Player, also known as the Mechanical Turk. Not only could it play a strong game of chess against a human opponent, playing against and defeating many challengers including statesmen such as Benjamin Franklin and Napoleon Bonaparte, it could also complete a knight's tour, a puzzle where one must use a knight to visit each square on the board exactly once. It was a marvel of mechanical engineering, able to not only choose its moves, but move the pieces itself with its mechanical hands.
It was also a giant hoax.
What it was: genuinely a marvel of mechanical engineering, an impressively designed puppet that was able to manipulate pieces on a chessboard.
What it wasn't: an automaton of any kind, let alone one that could understand chess well enough to play at a human grandmaster's level. Instead, the puppet was manipulated by a human chess grandmaster hidden inside the stage setup.
So, here and now, in 2023, we have writers and actors on a drawn-out and much needed strike, in part because production companies are trying to "replace their labor with AI".
How is this relevant to the Mechanical Turk, you ask?
Because just like back then, what's being proposed is, at best, a massive exaggeration of how the proposed labor shift could feasibly work. Just as we had the technology then to create an elaborate puppet to move chess pieces, but not to make it choose its moves for itself or move autonomously, we have the technology now to help people flesh out their ideas faster than ever before, using different skill sets - but we DON'T have the ability to make the basic idea generation, the coherent outlining, nor the editing nearly as autonomous as the companies promising this future claim.
What AI models can do: Various things from expanding upon ideas given to them using various mathematical parameters and descriptions, keywords, and/or guide images of various kinds, to operating semi-autonomously as fictional characters, when properly directed and maintained (e.g., Neuro-sama).
What they can't do: Conceive an entire coherent movie or TV show and write a passable script - let alone scripts for an entire show - from start to finish without human involvement, generate images with a true complete lack of human involvement, act fully autonomously as characters, or...do MOST of the things such companies are trying to attribute to "AI (+unimportant nameless human we GUESS)", for that matter.
The distinction may sound small, but it is a critical one: the point behind this modern Mechanical Turk scam, after all, is that it allegedly eliminates human involvement, and thus the need to pay human employees, right...?
But it doesn't. It only enables companies to shift the labor to a hidden, even more underpaid sector, and even argue that they DESERVE to be paid so little once found out because "okay okay so it's not TOTALLY autonomous but the robot IS the one REALLY doing all the important work we swear!!"
It's all smoke and mirrors. A lie. A Mechanical Turk. Wrangling these algorithms into creating something truly professionally presentable - not just as a cash-grab gimmick that will be forgotten as soon as the novelty wears off - DOES require creativity and skill. It IS a time-consuming labor. It, like so many other uses of digital tools in creative spaces (e.g., VFX), needs to be recognized as such, for the protection of all parties involved, whether their role in the creative process is manual or tool-assisted.
So please, DO pay attention to the men behind the curtain.
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fanatic-writers · 1 year
Text
Lunch "Dates"
Part Two Here!
A/n: Look at me actually following through with writing. I'm trying to fall back in love with it again but please be patient with me. I am thinking about making this a series or just maybe making it a general universe and having some random one-shots that all kinda connect. Anyway, I hope yall like it. I didn't really edit it all that much tbh... -G
Word Count: 2,032
Pairing: Steven Grant x reader
Warnings: None, just fluff for the most part
Summary: You work as a conservator at the museum Steven works at, regularly sneaking him in on your shared lunch breaks so he can see the artifacts he’s so fond of and occasionally get his help on things (even if you still have to call in a “professional”). But what happens when Steven gets fired and then goes missing? Who’s supposed to accompany you on your lunches? And why do you miss him so damn much?
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Life in the conservation lab was never boring. Just as a project seemed to become mundane, you’d find something hidden under the dirt and grime of centuries past that peeked your interest. Either that or you’d finished your current project and it was time to embark on a new one. The collections for the museum had recently received a rather large donation of Egyptian papyrus and you were currently working on cleaning them. While dabbing the delicate plant-based paper with a sponge seemed boring to most you enjoyed the satisfaction of uncovering the secrets found beneath the grime. You’d cleaned off a decent section of the mostly intact papyrus when your watch buzzed, letting you know it was time for lunch. You smiled to yourself as you put things away, leaving the artifact out since you knew you’d be back in a moment anyway.
As you removed and disposed of your gloves you gave a small wave to your co-workers, letting them know you’d be back in a moment. You made your way down the stairs to the main level and stopped in one of the many gift shops the museum had to offer, waiting for a certain gift-shoppist to finish with a customer. When the father and daughter in front of you left you gave Steven a warm smile before leaning onto the counter. “So, you know how we got some new stuff in from Cairo? Well, I’ve been working on a papyrus, and it would be super helpful if I had a translator.”
Steven beamed at you, knowing your whole translator thing was just an excuse to get him down there. He had been teaching you hieroglyphs and you had a specialist at your call when you would need them. “Of course!” He smiled “Let me just clock out for lunch and I’ll be right out, yeah?” You nodded in response and within minutes Steven was following you back up to the lab.
“This whole collection is amazing. A lot of it is in pretty good shape although I will definitely still have to make a lot of repairs. The one I’m working on now is the most intact piece in the collection.” You mused as you buzzed yourself into the lab, signed Steven in, and then made your way to your workstation. “Here she is” you hummed as you gestured to the large section of a scroll in front of you. “Still have to piece some parts together but that’ll be easier when its clean and I can see what I’m working with.” You explained.
Steven carefully leaned down over the papyrus; eyes wide as he took everything in “This is amazing.” He gushed. “I mean the size of the piece-“
“I know!” You interrupted excitedly, “usually we only get fragments from private donors, but this is insane.” As you spoke Steven grabbed a nearby notebook, eager to try and figure out what the uncovered hieroglyphs said. It was a bit choppy since some pieces were missing but he was able to transcribe most of it into your notebook. “I had something else I wanted to show you.” You hummed, watching as he worked. Steven perked up a bit as you grabbed a small box from one of the other tables in the lab and brought it over to him. You opened the box to reveal a shiny golden scarab inside. Steven’s eyes went wide as he looked to the golden artifact, his hand hovering over the box “What is it?” He asked. “We don’t know, but considering the shape it’s in it almost looks like whoever had it went through good measures to keep in nice and hidden away. We found this small box inside a puzzle box inside a lock box.” You explained. “They think it’s some sort of jewelry thing but that really doesn’t make sense because-“ You were cut off by a buzz on your wrist letting you know you only had a few minutes left of lunch. “We should actually eat something huh?” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly as you closed the box and put it back in its spot. You and Steven had your usual lunch of sandwiches on the steps of the museum, Steven brainstorming what the scarab could be between bites. The rest of the day went by, and it wasn’t long before you and Steven were saying your goodbyes on the street in front of the museum.
“See you Monday?” You asked as you pulled your keys from your bag, not having that much of a walk to get to your apartment. Steven nodded, giving you a small wave “Monday.” He confirmed “Laters gators.” He smiled at you as he began to move to his bus stop. You smiled to yourself as you walked the few blocks to your apartment in the other direction. --- Steven didn’t fully remember getting home that night. He remembered the butterflies in his stomach when you came to visit him, something he thought would’ve gone away by now. He remembered that he had a date the next day with Alex that he didn’t remember asking her out on. He’d liked the tour guide sure, but he liked you more. He shook the thought from his head, just happy that whatever the hell he had just experienced was a dream. Truth be told he was more focused on how Gus seemed to have two fins now rather than the fact that the same scarab you’d shown him had been a pretty big part of his dream. He never really had much time to think about that either, considering the date he was supposed to go on had been a complete and total failure. He almost tried to seek you out, to find some comfort in the madness of the day but he didn’t have your number or any other way to try and reach you. Instead, he settled on eating the chocolates he’d bought in his apartment and sharing the occasional sprinkle with Not Gus.
He was too distracted by the man from his dream not only being real but following him to work to even notice that you were waiting for him at the desk. Too focused on trying to get JP to actually do some semblance of security, to find safety somewhere to notice that you had taken the boxes Donna had practically dumped on him. Too distracted from, running away from the strange ma with the crocodile cane to notice that you had been waiting in the gift shop for him. “You alright?” Your voice made him nearly jump out of his skin, earning him a worried look from you. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He gave you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t do much to quell your worries. “Just a long weekend.” He mumbled to himself. “I heard,” You sighed, and he looked up at you, curious “Alex isn’t exactly happy with you and she’s not being quiet about it.” You fill in the blanks for him before he can ask. “I tried to calm her down a bit, told her you get your days mixed up sometimes. I’m sorry Steven.” You shot him a small smile “I gotta go but I’ll see you at lunch yeah?”
Steven just nodded, watching as you left the gift shop. He sighed to himself and began to put things away and get the register sorted for customers. He just had to make it to lunch. Then maybe he’d have some semblance of normalcy, of safety in your company. He’d told you about his issues with sleeping in the past, with his dreams, explained how he’d lost days sometimes. You’d never judged him, instead doing everything you could to help him out. You knew there wasn’t much you could do but it did help to just know someone cared, that someone was listening. The day seemed to drag on until Steven saw you again for lunch.
“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a golden scarab lying around?” Your words made Steven freeze. He had in his maybe dream, maybe he shouldn’t tell you about it. What if you thought he stole it? Steven shook his head no and you sighed, figuring it would be the answer. “Jess probably just took it to cleaning and didn’t put it back. I told her she needs to actually fill out her sheets, so we know what she’d working on, but she never listens and now we’re missing an artifact.” You let out a small huff before shaking the negativity from your head. If Steven wasn’t so worried about what the hell happened to the scarab and what he had to do with it he’d think you were cute. Instead, his mind was racing with every possibility and what the hell was going on. He was zoned out for most of lunch, half listening to you talk about your weekend. You didn’t seem to notice and if you did you didn’t bring it up.
--- Steven was off all of Monday, it was easy to tell. You didn’t push him though, hearing enough about his weekend from Alex and knowing he was likely in a bad mood from missing the date. What you didn’t expect was to walk into work on Tuesday to a mess in the bathrooms and Steven and JP going over the security footage. “That’s not me mate” You heard Steven mumble under his breath, moments later he was called to HR. You heard he’d been walked out and that was that. There was no way for you to call him, to email him, hell you would’ve settled for knocking on the man’s door at this point. You knew there was no way in hell sweet little Steven would’ve been able to rip apart the bathroom the way it had been. It looked like the Hulk had gone through there, not Steven, Steven who wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone a whole bathroom. He’d left before your lunch, so you hadn’t known for sure till you saw Donna in the gift shop. The rest of the week dragged by with you hoping everyday that you’d see a familiar curly haired man in the gift shop, but he didn’t come back. Donna had made it pretty clear to you that if she had anything to say about it, he never would.
As the days passed on you realize just how much you had cared for Steven, just how much light he had brought to your workday. You missed your little lunch dates, your conversations about whatever was in the lab that day. You missed finding excuses to have him come up to the lab and show him what you’d been working on, not knowing many other people who had appreciated your work. You missed having a friend around. About a month had passed since Steven had been fired. You were walking up the stairs to work when you heard someone call out your name. You didn’t recognize the voice at first but as you looked around you spotted Steven at the bottom of the steps. You smiled wide and practically ran down them to meet him.
“Steven?” You smiled up at him, wrapping your arms around him “Where the hell have you been?” The man stayed silent although his arms found their way around you. “Long story love, very long story.” He chuckled a bit. You pulled back and took him in, your heart racing slightly as you debated on if you should ask him to tell you about it over dinner, but he beat you to the punch. “Why don’t I meet you here after your shift? You’re still off at five, right?” Steven asked and you answered with a nod. “Great. It’s a date.”
You bid him goodbye quickly making your way back inside in hopes that he wouldn’t see just how excited the prospect of a date with him made you. You could’ve sworn you heard Steven mutter a curse under his breath, but you figured you could ask about it later on your date. Your date with Steven. You practically skipped to the lab, eager for the day to end.
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