#went heavy with the mail and travel aspect but i do enjoy the bit of hell and fraud thrown in

[sicc-nasti]

Woe! Mailman character board be upon ye. Now with added fraud! I'm not great at making them but man this was sillay fun : D

[jamielea81]

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 1

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

A/N: This fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. This particular chapter is Chris light as it’s mainly a getting to know the reader. Chapters going forward will be heavy on the Chris aspect. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome. Tag list is open, please send me an ask.

“Do you have the ring?”

“Of course, I have the ring.” You let out a frustrated breath. “This is so silly.”

Joanna chuckles over the line. “Where did you manage to get a ring from anyway?”

“It’s my grandmother’s. I feel like I’m majorly disrespecting her by wearing it when I’m not even engaged. Not to mention I’ve been single for-ev-er.” You drawl out.

“Breathe babe. Just breathe.” She says softly.

You inhale deeply and exhale it slowly.

“Maybe don’t do that directly into the phone.” She laughs again.

“Joanna Elizabeth.” You growl. “Why am I doing this?” You ask catching a glimpse of your reflection in the review mirror. Running a hand through your hair, you see the diamond engagement ring on your left finger. It feels so foreign, even stranger seeing it.

“Because this is a great opportunity to advance your career. Stone Lite is a major studio, Y/N. You can’t keep working on those student films.”

“Hey! I worked on a couple of independent movies. One even showed at Sundance.” You defend.

“And that’s awesome. Really. But this could be your big in. You’ve been doing this, what, for ten years?”

She was right. Ten years and the majority of your income came from student funded films and slinging beers three nights a week.

“And by your silence, you know I am right.”

Smug bitch.

“Ahuh.” You sigh.

“Look, I know it’s not right, but if this increases your chances of getting hired, just wear the damn ring.” Joanna huffs out.

“Easy for you to say, oh, wise married one.”

Joanna previously worked for Stone Lite Studios before moving on to Sony. It was a well-known amongst the employees that if you wanted to get hired for any position that put you in direct contact with any of the actors, you needed to be married. The studio was concerned with fan girls and fan boys. As if adults couldn’t control their urges and not make unwanted advances. Not to mention, married or not, some people still have affairs. Now granted, not every person there was married, but you had a greater advantage to get the job if you were. Right or wrong.

You drew the line at saying you were actually married and settled on being engaged. Not wanting to worry about details like how you kept your last name and lying on the tax forms you’d have to fill out. Even though you’ve only worked on small projects, Hollywood was surprisingly small when it came to the industry. It would be a lot harder to explain a sudden husband versus a fiancé. With Joanna’s agreement, you took your grandmother’s engagement ring from your jewelry box and slipped it on your finger.

“I’m just saying, give it a shot and see where this goes.” She reasoned.

“You’re right. You’re right. I better go in anyway. There’s a golf cart that keeps circling around the lot. They’re probably getting suspicious as to why I’m still in my car.”

She let out a chuckle. “They’re going to give you a ride to the offices. Welcome to the big leagues baby.”

 “Ms. Y/L/N, may I call you Y/N? Barbara Floyd, the interviewer and also the production manager asked.

The two of you had already gone over your previous crew history where you held a variety of positions including editor, grip, writer, and even wardrobe. On a whim, you took a script supervisor position on an independent short and really enjoyed it. The next job you took was on full length film in the same position, that’s when you decided that’s where your passion lied. Despite the copious amount of responsibility and that often brought on your anxiety, you loved the challenge.

“Of course, Mrs. Floyd.”

Her eyes went directly to your left hand. “That’s a beautiful ring.” She says.

Here we go.

“Thank you.” You stick your hand out for added affect.

“When’s the wedding?” She asks.

“Next year. We have a lot of out of town family. We just want to make sure they have time to arrange travel.”

Look at me lie. Maybe I should have tried acting.

“I’m sure it will be lovely.” She replies with a wide smile. “I’d like to introduce you to a few people. Please come with me.”

You received a contract via e-mail later that evening. They were bringing you on for one film with the option of three additional films after production. Granted, that’s if you didn’t mess up. Joanna was right, this is the big leagues. If you could make it through the next three to four months, you’d have a long term contract with a major studio.

The next day you received the script. Winter’s Sin was the working title. Whether or not the title would stick was anyone’s guess. You had worked with a few well-known actors, but more of the B list variety. Wonderfully talented actors, but they just didn’t get the parts or the recognition they often deserved. This film had a couple of big names, Keanu Reeves and Chris Evans to be exact. Maggie Jessup was this year’s it girl and rumor had it, this movie was going to launch her into stardom. Generally, you didn’t get star struck, but this was Keanu Reeves! You first fell in love with him when you saw Speed. And again, when you watched The Lake House. Too bad you were technically “engaged”.

Pre-production was set to start next week. This week would be spent going over the script a few times and creating notes. Some wouldn’t consider it the fun part of the job, but you loved diving into a script before it was brought to life. It was also a bonus that you generally liked the script. It was sort of a weepy drama with a love story tied in. But the main plot was between two friends, Milo played by Keanu and William played by Chris. You stayed up half the night and made it almost all the way through. To say you were invested was an understatement.

You read through the script twice more over the next few days and felt ready. Next week you would meet with wardrobe and the writers. The cast would be fitted and you would take photos for your own personal files to make sure styles remain the same for the shoot. Of course, this could all change the day shooting begins which is why you needed to be on your A game and get all the drinking out of the way tonight. You’d have Sunday to recover before starting at the studio on Monday.

 Laurel Tavern wasn’t necessarily your favorite bar, but it had become the place to get a bite to eat and a few drinks. It was also the most centrally located place for you and your friends to meet. Joanna and her husband Ian picked you up on the way, knowing you wanted to drink to excess. The three of you along with Travis and Jemma were celebrating your new job tonight. The five of you often found reasons to celebrate whether it was finding a twenty dollar bill on the side of the road, not getting fired from a particular job you’ve been slacking at, for the record, that was Travis, or getting a full eight hours of sleep. Tonight, was really worth celebrating.

“What do you want girl?” Joanna asked, getting up from your usual booth. “First rounds on me. If you’re nice, I might even buy you a second.” She throws you a wink.

“Ummm. I’d like a margarita, hold the margarita.” You say in all seriousness.

“Tequila. Got it.”  She says before turning away and heading to the bar.

“Extra limes.” You shout.

She waves her hand behind her head, not bothering to spare your table a look.

Travis joins your booth, a couple of pints of beer in hand. “Here, I brought you one.” Setting a pint of golden goodness in front of you.

You lean over kissing his cheek. “I feel so special.” You coo.

Travis wormed his way into your life seven years ago. He was a senior in college at the time, tall and lanky with hair that stuck out from under his hat. He was filming his final project before graduation. The two of you had a mutual friend in common, Jemma, who was an ex-girlfriend of Travis, how they stayed friends, was beyond you. You helped with directing, a little bit of script management, and even filled in for makeup on a few days. Anything to help a friend of a friend. Travis became your pseudo little brother, well, a brother that you kissed once. You had just broken up with Chad, never date a guy name Chad. Anyway, you had just broken up with Chad and were feeling down in the dumps about yourself. He fed you some bullshit about never being there for him when he needed you. You got angry, he got angry, and then he told you that you weren’t hot enough for him. Yep, Chad was a douche. Travis invited you over, feed you pizza and a ton of beers, then you kissed. He wasn’t a bad kisser, but it felt weird. He was five years younger than you, but it wasn’t just that, he was too much like a brother. The two of you agreed that it was a mistake and never brought it up again. Not even Jemma knew.

The five of you munched on burgers and grilled cheese sandwiches. Jemma bought you a margarita, even after you told her you just wanted the tequila. Her motive was to mooch some of the beverage off of you.

“I don’t want all of the calories. I just want to try it.” She grins. Big rosy cheeks and wild blonde hair. Her British accent on full affect after already consuming a few shots herself. She had lived in the United States most of her life, but when she drank, the accent became heavier.

She grabs your drink, taking a hold of the straw and consumes half of it in one go. If you didn’t love her, you would have ditched her years ago.

Pushing Ian out of the booth, you get up on wobbly feet and make the long twenty foot journey to the bar. “I’ll get my tequila myself. Thank you very much.” You tell the table.

 It’s after midnight by the time you’re dropped off. Running a makeup remover cloth over your face and stripping down to a cami, you call it good enough and crawl into your cozy bed.

 After a pit stop at Starbucks, you make it to the studio an hour earlier than you need to be. After parking in Timbuctoo, you graciously accept the golf cart ride from security.

One of the admins directs you to a small office down a long hallway with similar offices. There’s a laptop computer, various pens and notepads on the desk. You unpack a small plant you picked up yesterday after you dragged your hungover self out of bed and to the grocery store for food. There was no window in your office which you figured; a little greenery would liven the place up, literally.

 An hour later, one of the producers, David, came by to introduce himself and walk you around the grounds and through the soundstage you’d be shooting on. Filming would take place on the soundstage for a little more than a month. Then everyone would move the whole operation to Vancouver. The movie was called Winter’s Sin after all and there wasn’t a whole lot of winter in Los Angeles.

Before stopping back in your office, David popped into the office across from yours. He knocked while walking in, apparently already comfortable with the occupant.

“Hey Monica. I want you to meet Y/N. She’s the assistant script supervisor I was telling you about.”

Assistant? What?

Monica got up from her chair to greet you. You plastered on a smile and stuck out your hand. She was around your age and seriously gorgeous. Beautiful thick brown hair with a touch of caramel highlights that hung just above her chest.  

“Hi, Y/N. I’m looking forward to working with you. Would love to hear some of your ideas.”

“Same.”

What could you say? You weren’t told that you were an assistant script supervisor, you thought you had the position. Apparently, it was a shared position.

“Y/N will be working primarily with Chris and Keanu.”

Whoa. Well, at least there’s that.

Monica scoffs. “Really?”

Your eyes automatically go to her left hand. No ring. Of course.

“Yes, really. You’ve got Maggie. I think she can really flourish under your direction. Not to mention you have Hector, Tim, Daisy and Joe.

After the awkward exchange, you traded cellphone numbers with her and made plans to meet after the first read through with the cast.

Walking across the way into the safety of your office, you figured you might as well ask.

“I wasn’t aware that I was being hired on as an assistant script supervisor.”

David ran a hand down his face. “Y/N, listen. This is your first big film; you need to walk before you can run. Alright? If this goes well, you’ll probably get hired on as the lead.”

“Okay.” You sighed out

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Meeting at three on the soundstage.”

“Got it.” You replied, plopping yourself down in the desk chair.

David peeks his head back into your office. “You’ve got some visitors.”

“Thanks.” You call out, standing back up and pulling your door open wider.

Your heart stopped. At least you were pretty sure it did. Keanu and Chris were both in front of you. Yes, you were there to film a movie, but this felt like a freaking movie. The two of them, side by side, grins on their faces. Keanu’s hand outstretched while Chris’ hands were snugly in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Y/N, pleasure to meet you. I’m Keanu.”

You accept his hand but your pretty much speechless. You may have muttered “hi” but you can’t be sure. Sensing your nervousness, he gives you a smile and releases your hand. He looks to Chris and they exchange a silent conversation. Chris steps forward offering you his hand and once again you can’t breathe.

Has he always been this attractive? Apparently, I haven’t watched enough Avengers movies.

His hair’s a bit longer than what you remember from the one or two movies you’ve seen. He’s also sporting a full beard. Definitely something he can pull off.

You mentally slap yourself and pull your hand from his after you realize you hadn’t said anything.

“Um. Sorry. Haven’t had enough caffeine today. It’s nice to meet you both. I look forward to working with you on this shoot.”

“Nice plant.” Keanu says, pointing at the fern taking up the front corner of your desk.

You giggle. Like actually let out a giggle and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are flushed.

You’re a professional. Get your shit together.

“Well, you know?” Shrugging your shoulders. “Need to green the space up a bit.’

Chris nods his head and offers a closed mouth smile.

“Well, we won’t take up all your time. Just wanted to say hello.”

“Hello.” You reply with a wave.

Why am I so awkward?!

They both chuckle and Chris waves back at you.

Tomorrow you wouldn’t be so starstruck. These are just two men that you work with. Who cares that they both seem nice and are dangerously attractive? You’re an “engaged” woman who is also a professional. You can do this.

Yeah. I can do this.

If you are crossed out, I can’t tag you.

Tag list: @southerngracela  @chrisevansforever  @chrisevansfanfic @zsuzstyina @peach-acid @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob@patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @thefandomzoneisdangerous @linki-locks11 @jennmurawski13

[deejadabbles]

Playing Dirty (Yugi x Reader Lemon)

Summary: Yugi needs a distraction from all the work he’s been putting into his latest game, and you’re all too happy to provide.

A.N: Just shameless, dirty, reader insert fun with your favorite sweet boy who’s not so innocent when things get steamy ;) There’s a bit of minor bondage, just so you’re aware before reading. Said bit was actually inspired by @youxygo ‘s headcanon for Yugi (go read them, they’re Yugi down to a T, in my opinion, *o*). Anywho, enjoy~

.

Your attention was snapped away from your computer screen by a sudden yell of pure frustration. Looking to the other side of the living room you saw your poor boyfriend slumped in his chair, face planted on the table among his various notes and game tokens. A gentle smile crossed your lips as you rose from your chair and made for him. It was quite satisfying to feel his muscles relax under your touch as you ran your hands up and down his back.

“Still having trouble with that set back you told me about this morning?”

His face still buried in his arms Yugi nodded his head, letting out a long sigh “Yeah, I just can’t figure the best way to add other skill aspects to this one. With the dice and cards I have plenty of luck aspects, but I want the players to be able to add strategy as well as other skills…”

Finally, he sat up, leaning heavily on the back of the chair, though it let you wrap your arms around him and nuzzle his neck. “You’ll figure it out, maybe I can help you tomorrow, but how about you put it away for tonight. If you keep throwing yourself against the wall with no break you’ll just get more frustrated.”

He replied with a lazy, uncomital hum, though he seemed content to simply lean into you at the moment. Wanting to give him something else to focus on you cast your gaze around the room and landed your attention on a video game case laying atop an open package and other mail.

“Say, you haven't had a chance to pop in that promo copy of that puzzle game, have you?”

“Hm, not yet. I wrote an email to the developers to say thank you, and that I'd try it” he chuckled a little “they were super happy that I showed interest. I hope I can give them a good review as king of games, it'll help out their indie company a lot.”

“Then how about we pop it in? You need to take your mind off your own game and maybe you'll even find some inspiration while playing it!” when he didn't answer right away you took the matter to the next level. Pulling away from him -and smirking when he gave a pout and groan at the loss of your embrace- you made your way to the kitchen. “Set it up, Yugi, I'll make us some popcorn.”

The nudge worked and he finally put his project away for the night, put the game in and settling on the couch. You joined him after getting the promised snack and drinks, snuggling against him as he began his journey on this new indie game that claimed to be a perfect mix of RPG and puzzle game.

A good ten minutes in Yugi’s character came across a side mission with one of the promised puzzles. Apparently you had to look at symbols etched into the wall and find your clues there. Then you had to go around the room and not only break/open chests in a specific order, but also get them open in a specific way or the challenge would start over. You were glad to see Yugi having fun with it, that challenged, intelligent gleam in his eyes that had been hard pressed to find since the pharaoh left.

After the first time he got something wrong and the puzzle reset, he gave a thoughtful hum, then turned to you. “Wanna help me? I don't want you to get too bored just watching.”

You smiled and nodded, happily shifting to sit in his lap when he motioned for you to. He wrapped his arms around you, holding the controller in front of your bodies as he settled his chin in the crook of your neck. You aren't sure where the suddenly mischievous mood came from, though you assumed the light kiss he placed on your shoulder and his hot breath tickling your ear were contributing factors as an idea came to mind.

“Hey, sweetheart?” you turned a little within his grasp so you could whisper into his ear.

“Hm?”

“What do you say we play our own game within the game?” it was likely he already suspected where your mind was as you started kissing and nibbling below his ear.

“Oh?” his breath was already a little heavy “what kind of game?”

“We take turns guessing what chest to go to next if we're right we get to take off a piece of our opponent's clothes, if we're wrong, we have to take off a piece of our own clothes.”

He chuckled deep in his throat and reached up tilting your face so he could plant a long firm kiss on your lips. “I think I like that idea. Can I go first?” his tone was almost innocent, but held a lacing of mischievous mirth.

“Of course, you are the King of Games after all.”

He had already caught up to the point he last went wrong at, and had apparently learned from his previous mistake, because the next chest he smashed open was correct. He wasted no time, setting the controller on your lap and moving to slowly start unbuttoning your blouse. Yugi did all he could to make it seductive, running his fingertips up your chest before he reached the first button, taking a moment to gently knead your breasts after unbuttoning the third. He even placed an opened mouthed kiss on the now exposed flesh of your shoulder as he slid your top off.

He pressed his lips to your ear, whispering “Your move.”

Damn he knew just how to heat you up. You grabbed the controller and took a moment to think over your choice, when you picked the lock of a red chest instead of smashing it open you claimed your first victory. You turned in his arms and straddled him, opting to curl your fingers in his hair while you rubbed your hand under his shirt with the free hand. Yugi closed his eyes at the sensation, swiping his tongue over his lips when you gently ran your nails down his chest. You had to pull him forward by his shirt so you could lift it off over his head, but he just basked in the almost rough motion, planting another kiss on you before taking his turn.

When he guessed right again he skipped over your bra and went straight for your pants. You were still straddling him but you lifted up so he could at least get them down to your knees. You helped with pulling them off the rest of the way, and Yugi took advantage of your distraction by cupping his hand between your legs. It was still covered by your underwear but you couldn't help but moan as he massaged your clit with his palm and your entrance with his fingers.

“I-I still have to take my next turn,” you breathed, having to grip the couch as he teased you.

Yugi chuckled, then pulled you against his chest again, your side against his front and your ass on his lap. “I know, I was just warming you up.”

You gave your mind a moment to clear before reclaiming the controller and looking for your next target. It took a moment, in which Yugi never stopped with his butterfly kisses along your jaw, neck, and shoulders, but eventually you decided on another chest- and you were right yet again. Time to repay Yugi for his ‘warm up’.

Making sure to give him a long look with your best bedroom eyes, you actually slid down to the floor, onto your knees and started unbuckling his pants. After being free of the tight jeans, the full extent of his excitement was revealed to you. God, he was so hard already, but you hadn’t even begun your fun yet. Relishing the soft moan he let out, you began rubbing the insides of his legs starting at the knees. Hiking up his boxers as you traveled closer to his manhood, you looked up at him with almost innocent eyes.

“Aren’t you going to make your move?”

He was too much a mess to reply verbally, apparently, because he just looked back to the screen and started making his next guess, blush bright and breathing heavy. You didn’t stop, you massaged his thighs in tantalizing circles, dipping your fingers under his boxers to rub so damn close to the base of his cock that he shuttered and gasped.

The music in the game plateaued, signaling that Yugi had made his next guess, and was wrong. “Oh, I guess I win again” you teased as his gaze snapped down to you.

“I couldn't concentrate, doing all that was cheating and you know it.”

You shrugged as you hooked your fingers in the band of his boxers, looking him straight in the eyes with a smirk as you said, “What can I say, when you’re the prize, Yugi, I’ll always play dirty.”

He let out something just short of a whimper at the proclamation, but what you didn’t expect, was for him to practically pounce on you the moment his underwear was around his ankles. One moment you were taking in the sight of his fully erect member, the next you were on your back, his body pinning you to the carpet as he pressed his lips to yours.

His full length pressed against you, so hard and ready as his tongue claimed yours. You felt his hands running along your legs and sides with loving care, wanting to touch every inch he possibly could. Eventually, he started pulling down your panties, neither of you caring who's turn or win it was, just needing each other. Slipping his fingers between your folds he started playing with you, giving nice, firm strokes and breaking the kiss to look at your face when you moaned.

“T-tell me you want me” Yugi's tone was low, somewhere between plea and command.

Making sure to hold his gaze, you complied “I want you, Yugi” you clasped your arms behind his neck, drawing him closer “I need you, Yugi, I need your hands on my body, your lips on mine, and your cock inside me.”

A desperate sound escaped his lips as he pulled his hands from their pleasurable positions and grabbed your wrists. He sat up, pulling you with him as he leaned his back against the front of the couch and seated you perfectly in his lap.

Yugi kept his eyes on you as he rolled his hips, the firm member between your bodies rubbing its hard length against your clit and folds. “You are ready for me now?”

“Yes,” you whispered, “I'm all yours, Yugi.”

With that he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you up, pulling you closer so your chest was pressed against his, before sliding you onto his member nice and slow. Yugi smiled when you let out a long moan and buried his face in the crook of your neck, planting loving kisses there as he started the rhythm of his hip with that same slow seduction.

He loved the way your body responded to him, it was addicting to feel you move in sync with him, your hips meeting his thrusts blow for blow. He’d never tire of hearing you gasp and cry out in pleasure from work his mouth did on your skin. Speaking of, he had yet to hear a particularly delicious whimper he loved to elicit from you, he’d have to step it up. He gave a suddenly rough thrust just as he bit down on the flesh of your sweet spot. His reward was that intoxicating, helpless cry of bliss rising from your throat as you closed your eyes. That’s right, helpless. You were helpless under his touch, and just the thought of that got him so high he had to actively rein himself in, lest he finish before getting you off.

After such a desperate whimper Yugi’s rougher thrusts continued. Your hands gripped the couch as you picked up your own pace, bouncing up and down so hard the sound of slapping skin almost drowned out the music still playing from the forgotten game. Then, as though not satisfied with your matching pace, Yugi grabbed your ass and started grinding you against his thrusts harder.

“OH!” you gasped in shock as Yugi finally relinquished your neck to look at your face again. “Ah- Y-yugi, just like that, don’t stop!”

The layer of grinding was doing wonders to stimulate your clit, the nerves rubbing amazingly against his hard pelvis. Another desperate moan was lost as Yugi captured your lips with his, the kiss being a gentle contrast to the movement of his hips.

His breathing was harsh and ragged but he didn’t pull away from your mouth fully even as he whispered “I- I thought you’d like this” a squeeze to your ass as he pushed and pulled your hips “say that a-again” a low moan of his own escapes his lips “tell me not to stop!”

You took the risk of moving your hands from their supportive position and cupped his face, laying a languid kiss on him before whispering “Don’t s-stop! Yugi, please don’t stop, I’m ah-almost there!”

One hand still grinding you against him, Yugi used the other to reach up and tangle fingers in your hair. The grip was firm but gentle, just enough pressure to add yet another wonderful sensation as he held you perfectly in place to keep his eyes on yours. Desperate to give him something in return you trailed your nails lightly down his neck and chest, climbed them back up to rest at his nipples so you could play with them.

His moans pitched to more of a hiss at the act, and he had to close his eyes at the sensation. When your own pleasure cries changed to that telling volume his eyes snapped back open, boring into yours with an intensity that said ‘yes, that’s it, come for me, come with me- now!’

“Just a little more, I’ll be right behind you!”

Senses alight with ecstasy, your desperate thrusts became sloppy as your pleasure tightened in that ultimate high and you screamed his name as you came. You were amazingly aware when Yugi released inside you, the extra sensitivity making his cum just another welcomed sensation to ride your high out on.

His chest was heaving but you still rested your head in the crook of his neck and in turn he buried his face in your hair. As Yugi caught his breath his hands trailed up from your backside to rub loving, gentle circles across your back, pulling you more secure against his chest. You answered the sweet affection by planting slow, lazy pecks on his neck and jawline, earning a content hum. Soon enough he pulled out of you and you moved from your straddling pose, legs aching just a bit.

“How about we hop in the shower?” Yugi asked, running his finger through your messy hair.

“Hm, that sounds nice.”

With no further encouragement needed, Yugi stood, pulling you with him. He took it upon himself to set the temperature of the water nice and hot the moment you stepped into the bathroom. The shower head turned on, hitting your naked form with soothing heat that made you close your eyes with a hum of delight. Hands slid across your body and he hugged you from behind.

“Keep moaning like that and I’ll be ready for round two before we get you clean.”

Well, even if you hadn’t been ready for a second go before, his husky tone would have gotten you there. “Oh, I’m definitely okay with a round two, Yugi dear.”

He let out a little chuckle “Let me get warmed up again.”

Wanting to help with just that you turned in his arms and reached for his bottle of body wash. Squirting a generous amount onto your hands, you started lathering his chest and shoulders, working your way down his biceps and eventually, his stomach. He closed his eyes against the touch, biting his lip and humming in approval. When you traced your fingers back up his chest he tightened his hold on you, pushing you full against him as he kissed you.

He grabbed the bottle of wash from you and covered his own hands with the liquid. Lowering to his knees he started with your thighs, reaching up your back until eventually sliding his hands over the whole front of your body. Still on his knees he looked up at you, keeping eye contact as he rolled his tongue between your folds.

Knowing he liked it, you tangled your fingers in his hair, letting him see the way you licked your lips at his act. The water cascaded down his body wonderfully as he gave a few more swipes of his tongue and you answered with light tugs to his locks. Too soon he stood back up and pulled you in for a more forceful, desperate kiss, loving the noise you made at tasting yourself on his tongue. Oh, you could feel that he was already warmed up again.

“Hm, you smell like me now, I think I’m going to like that scent covering you tomorrow” he mumbled against your lips.

When he pulled back he took some time to just look at you, admire the way the droplets made their way down your lovely body. You were taking in the sight just as much, watching the water cling to his lips, neck, and chest as even more rained down every inch of his skin. God, what was it about water that could make one so hot and bothered?

After getting his fill of the sights, Yugi’s eyes drifted to something on one of the shower shelves and he quickly reached over to retrieve it. Ah, he must have left his choker there the last time he showered, because it was now hanging from his finger as he looked at you with a familiar suggestion playing in his eyes.

“Do you mind wearing it tonight?”

Always so considerate, even when he was in one of his dominant moods like tonight. You leaned in, stretching your neck in a submissive invitation “Anything for you, Yugi.”

The breath he drew in at the words had a quiver to it and he quickly wrapped the strap around your throat, buckling it secure with plenty of wiggle room. Room that he put to use without hesitation.

Hooking two of his fingers around the collar, he pulled you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. Then he was turning you around, using his free hand to cup your pussy after you braced your hands on the cool tile wall. In a quick, firm motion he was sheathed inside you again, letting out a low moan as he gave the smallest tug on the choker.

His pace was fast and hot, pressing his chest to your back so he could better hear your moans as he pounded you, never relinquishing his fingers from the collar. His other hand worked at your clit, circling, cupping or pressing with every thrust. You weren’t holding back on your cries of pleasure, but when he angled his next thrust just right you let out a borderline scream that echoed off the tile walls.

Then he was pressing his lips to your ear, hot breath puffing against your skin as he said, “Louder, I want to hear you louder.” He accentuated the demand by tightening his hold on the collar ever so slightly.

Oh, and he gave you a reason to be louder. Yugi pressed the whole of your body against the wall, pinning you so you had to take him, so that you were at his mercy as he took advantage of that perfect angle. You gave him what he wanted with no trouble, calling out so loud the sound rang against the bath tiles. But apparently, it wasn’t enough.

“Can’t quite hear you.” Yugi gave the leather a firm tug, causing a tightness around your neck to heighten your climb to release. “Scream my name again, I love hearing my name on your lips.”

You obliged, giving your loudest cry yet as you came again, taking satisfaction in the way he held you even tighter as he moaned from the sensation of your walls closing around him. He kept thrusting, though a bit slower as he was trying to savor the climb.

“Y-Yugi, let me get you off,” you managed between pants, feeling the need to give him a bit of extra attention in the moment.

“You-you mean?”

To answer you reached back, placing your hand between your bodies and giving a push. He understood and pulled out of you, quickly giving you enough space to get down on your knees.

Wrapping one hand around the base you took him into your mouth fully in one motion, dragging a long sound of ecstasy from him. He reclaimed his grip on the collar, this time tucking his fingers in front so he could set your pace. You used your free hand to play with his balls, giving them a nice rubdown as you bobbed your head along with his pulls and thrusts. It didn’t take long for him to cum in your mouth with a loud moan, the position of his tip when he did so causing his seed to spill out all over you.

Yugi was a mess, chest heaving, barely keeping upright as he braced himself against the wall with one hand, the other running gentle finger through your hair after he relinquished the collar. The water ran down his neck and back, giving you quite the sight as both of you came down from the highs.

Eventually, he was recovered enough to lean back, the hand that had been bracing him falling to cup your cheek and tilt your head to look at him. He looked you over with care, taking in the sight of you, loving the sight of you, knowing he’d never tire of looking at you.

Then Yugi ran his thumb over your lips, collecting some of his mess on the fingertip. Still, with that half-lidded look, water cascading down his chest, he put his thumb in front of your lips, a silent command to taste. You did, taking his whole thumb in your mouth and sucking, a mocking mirror of what you had just done to his manhood moments ago.

“Damn” he whispered, the sight making him wish desperately to be hard again so he could take you a third time, but he knew he was spent. So, he focused on another favorite part of making love: the aftercare.

He grabbed a washcloth from the side of the tub and turned the shower head off so the water came out gushing and hot from the bath spout. After wetting the cloth he joined you on the tub floor and pulled you into his arms. With care he started to clean you up, following every swipe of the cloth with a peck of his lips to the freshly cleaned spot, earning playful giggles from you each time.

When he was done cleaning you up and made sure no...mess clung to the floor of the bath, he put the stopper in the drain and let the water start to fill the tub. He leaned back, settling into a comfortable position with you in his arms.

You snuggled against him, giving a very content hum “You take such good care of me,” you said in a mumble.

Yugi chuckled, shifting his position a bit so he could better run the back of his fingers over still sensitive skin. “I feel like I should be the one saying that. You’re always making sure I don’t work too hard...and providing a welcomed distraction.”

“Oh? I’m a good distraction?”

He brushed his lips along your temple, planting lazy smooches, “The best. In fact, I think I have an idea on how to fix my problem now. I’ll let my brain work on it overnight, test it out in the morning.”

“Hm, you’re not going back to work tonight, right?” your tone was teasing, though showing obvious displeasure at the idea of Yugi not letting himself relax the rest of the night.

“Nope,” he chuckled, “I’m going to sit in this nice, hot bath with you for awhile, then you and I are going to go back to playing that puzzle game.”

“Sounds like a perfect night to me.” You leaned up then, pressed your lips to his. “And I promise not to play dirty this time.”

“But I love it when you play like that, and it probably wouldn’t take much to get me worked up to a round three.” He added a kiss of his own to reinforce the claim. “Still, I’m okay with snuggling on the couch the rest of the night.”

You hummed in agreement, “Me too.”

He loved the smile that graced your face, that content, but still glowing smile. You satisfied every side of him. Whether it was his curious mind, his need for hot, sweaty passion, or just his want for simpler affections. All that and so much more.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your smile grew and you leaned your head against his. “I love you too, Yugi.”

[mrfunnybonearchives]

𝕄 𝔸 𝕋 ℂ ℍ 𝔼 𝔻

From the horrendous minds of @lettersfromthepit and Mrfunnybone, we present yet another AU amongst the plethora of AU’s already featured on this blog. Inspiration is credited to this wonderful plot post. 

Happy endings are not guaranteed.

    “To our freedom!” A young monster, blazing in a mass of blue flames, laughed as he lifted his large frosted mug upwards, splashing froth over the edges which splattered onto a pinewood table below. “The last night we will ever have of it!” 

   A roar of laughter and cheers grew as mugs, beer bottles, and cans were clinked together in celebration or mourning, whichever perspective was chosen. Within the confines of Snowdin, a small town run somewhere between what used to be Maine and was once called New York, it was customary for the local 18-year-old men to join together and enjoy one last hoorah before they were forever bound by adulthood and the many, heavy obligations it came burdened with. 

   The long, detailed governmental contracts had been signed months ago, and one by one the monsters had received their packets. Thick and weighty, it contained all of the information they would need to know about the future spouses they had been matched with, what level home they had been assigned, and how long before they would be expected to have their first child. 

    None had been opened. Contract Day was tomorrow, a large ceremony in which the assigned couples would finally meet face-to-face and officialize their marriage, doing their part as respectable contributors to their nation. With all the buzz and excitement that surrounded such an occasion, it was almost certain that other towns had opened their packets already; but tradition was tradition, and so the boys-turned-men of Snowdin had waited.

   They would face the uncertainty of their future together, and make some fun memories while they were at it.

   “Gentlemen, I just wanna say—” 

  “Ah, sit your ass down and let’s get this thing started already!”  

   The group laughed. Sans looked over to his firey friend with a grin before glancing back to the others, speaking in a low, easy drawl as he tapped at the table. “Aw, don’t be so hard on the guy. He’s just got a burning passion for this sorta stuff, that’s all.”

   A series of groans and well-aimed wadded up napkins responded, as was common for the grotesquely horrible creation known as “puns”, or, perhaps more fittingly, “Dad Jokes”. Sans basked in the reaction in the way only the bearer of such atrocity could, and threw his skull back in laughter. 

   “New drinking game; take a shot every time Sans tells a bad joke.” 

   “Oh, we won’t live to see tomorrow, if that’s the case.”

   “Well then, guess it doesn’t matter who we get assigned to!”

    “True!” 

   “Pressure’s off.” 

   “Thanks, Sans.” 

   Sans winked and tilted his drink in cheers. “Anytime, pals.”

   They went in turns opening their packets. Enber in his enthusiasm went first, his blue flames growing bright when he found that he had been matched with a girl who lived locally and often visited his parents’ bakery. She was an overly quiet sort and so none of the group really knew her, but from what they recalled she wasn’t at all unkind. Besides that, according to the results on their compatibility stats the two would get along just fine—both socially and sexually. 

    There was a bit of laughing and nudging before Enber discovered that the house they’d been assigned was a significantly lower level of quality than the one his parents owned. His flames dwindled, and Sans poured him another drink. 

   “They’re gonna be so mad.” 

   “Man, they’re not gonna be mad. It’ll be fine.” 

    “She’s gonna hate it. She’ll ask to be re-matched.” 

    “No, she won’t. ‘Sides, no one ever actually gets re-matched.” 

    “That’s not true.” Gabbro, a rock sort of monster with carefully chiseled spikes on his head, leaned across the table and dipped his voice into a whisper. “I heard that Mr.Withers partner requested a re-match, and when she got it, he had to leave the town just to save face.” 

   “Gab, I know your information is usually pretty solid, but that ain’t even close to right. He got a promotion and they sent him and his match to one of the southern towns.” 

   “Oh—” 

   “Take a shot!” One of them shouted, and there was a short bit of huffed laughter before the group downed back a mouthful of liquor. 

    The following packets had mixed results. A good portion received local matches, but many were assigned wives who lived farther than they’d ever traveled. Some stats were high, some were low. One fellow received a score of only 10% social compatibility but had 87% on the sexual aspect. By that point the group had been through numerous drinks and a plethora of shots, thanks to Sans big mouth, and were laughing so hard that some had tears in the corner of their eyes. 

    “Here’s your wife, sir. You’re gonna fucking hate each other but the sex will be fan-fucking-tastic. YOU’RE WELCOME.”

   “What kind of shit are you into that you both scored a fucking 87!?” 

    “Apparently they’re into hate-sex. Lots of hate-sex—” 

    “I would have never guessed!” 

    “No kink-shaming, friend—”

   “No FUCK THAT, if you aren’t the first one to have a kid, ALL OF THE SHAME.” 

    “SHAME.” 

    “Shame, shame, shame, shame—!” The group took to chanting in a broken mass of slurs and laughter. The “shamed” monster sank into his seat, covering his face, and Sans leaned across the table, his grin cocking to the side. 

   “Well, y’know, pal—” 

   “No! Someone shut this short fucker up!” 

   “GET READY FOR ANOTHER SHOT.” 

   “Damn it, Sans—”

   He waved the others off with a wave of his bony hand and somehow managed not to spill his drink. “If all else fails, you could take her camping.” 

   There was a pause. The group looked at him with squinted eyes and tilted heads. Sans, meanwhile, sat back down, and let his grin slip into an entirely too satisfied expression. He took a sip of his drink, and then looked up with a smile. “I hear it’s fucking intents.” 

   An outraged cry erupted, hands were tossed into the air, and had the table not been bolted to the floor it would have surely been flipped over. They had used up all of their napkins on the terrible jokes from earlier, and so one monster reached over and stole a handful from another table, only to toss it in a flurry at Sans direction. They fluttered down to the table and floor before even reaching him.

   “I hate you so much—” 

   “Actually I thought that one was pretty good—” 

   “Enber, shut the hell up, don’t encourage him—” 

   “Wait, do we still take a shot if it’s a good joke?” 

    “Fuck it, I’ve already poured them, drink up, ass-hats.”

     Each monster grabbed a small shot glass, the spinning inside their heads begging them not to, but true to their word they dunked back the drink and took the increasing inebriation that came with it. Gabbor pointed to Sans still unopened packet and slammed his drink on the table. 

   “Ok, shit, it’s Sans turn, open your damn packet, let’s see wha’ Mr.Comedian got!”

   Judging by the slurred shouts and messy clapping, the rest of their table seemed to agree with this idea, and all eyes were suddenly on Sans. He shrugged. While most of the other packets had been kept in good condition, his own was bent and full of creases, with the occasional smudge of dirt or ketchup along the outside of the envelope. Never had been the cleanest in his family. Or maybe it just felt like if he didn’t treat the piece of mail like it was important, then it wouldn’t be. 

   “Welp. Now or never, right?” He picked the packet up and lifted the edge of its sealed backing. 

   Sans had always been naturally curious. Ever since he was a kid. It was why he chose the career he did, why he took extra classes when they were in school, despite hating the workload. Not knowing what had been in the packet for the last 12 days, 23 hours, and 43 minutes had been maddening. 

  Now, he suddenly wanted to wait. 

  With Contract Day literally right around the bend, though, there wasn’t much point in delaying the inevitable. He tore into the backing with little regard for keeping it tidy and pulled out the many documents inside. The first page was a sturdy piece of parchment with fancy lettering at the top, congratulating him on a successful matching. Directly below laid out, in fine black-typed print, the details of who he would spend the rest of his life with. 

   Name: Kailee Mae Dyer

   Age: 18 

   Gender: Female 

   Species: Human 

   Location—

   “...Wait.” Sans brought the paper closer, as though he’d misread, as though the words would somehow magically change if he only read them a bit more carefully. They did not. 

    Species: Human

   “Holy shit, Sans...” Enber shook his head in disbelief, tilting the paper towards him to get a better look. The opposite side of the table grew quiet, a subtle shift forming in the loose atmosphere that had been created.

   “What’s wrong?” 

   “What happened?” 

   “You did get matched, right, Sans?” 

   “Yeah, he got matched. To a fucking human.”

   “What? Gimmie that, don’t fuck with me!” One of the monsters reached out to grab the piece of paper and read it for himself, but it still, strangely, did not change what had been written. He, along with his side of the table, looked from Sans to the document and back again. 

   “...Well, I’ll be damned.” 

   Roughly 100 years had passed since the disastrous plague had roamed their earth and took away most of their population. Monsters had been hit hard; humans, worse. For a disease that could affect both magical properties and biological cells, they didn’t stand a chance and had fallen in massive waves—yet, somehow, both monsters and humans survived, perhaps by sheer determination alone. It was the reason behind the entire matching process, to help salvage the lost numbers on both sides, to rebuild what had once been a thriving, co-inhabiting civilization. 

   Human numbers were growing, but much more slowly. They were still the smaller population by far, and it was, technically, a possibility for one to get matched with a monster due to limited options for that period. So sure, it was something that Sans and his friends had known could happen—but that sort of thing happened to other monsters. Other towns. Places far away where it was just a story and a name and nothing more. 

   It didn’t happen in Snowdin. It didn’t happen to one of their own. 

   The contract in Sans hand said differently. 

   “Why would they choose Sans, though? No offense.” 

   Sans looked up from re-reading the document and gestured his hand in a mixture of excusing the offense while simultaneously suggesting that he didn’t have an answer. When the occasional human-monster match had occurred in the past, it had always been with monsters of higher-class, supposedly to give the mixed genealogy its strongest chance. To have a human spouse was as much of an abnormality as it was a status symbol, these days. 

   One that Sans had no interest in being marked with.

   “I bet it’s because of your fancy science job.” Gabbro suggested before taking another swig of his drink. The others looked to Sans with renewed attention, some with brows raised. 

   “Wait, you got the Royal Scientist job? And you didn’t fucking say anything?” 

   “I got the assistant job.” Sans corrected, finally turning the page, which revealed more information about his match and their respective scoring results. “And I dunno, just didn’t come up. S’not a big deal, it’s just, nerd stuff.” 

   That wasn’t true, and both he and the others knew it. To work with the Royal Scientists team at all was a high standing position; to work along the lead scientist himself was another thing entirely. Through careful avoidance of certain questions and occasional side-stepping, Sans had arranged it to where only a select few of his friends actually knew where it was he worked and what level of housing he lived in, for very good reason. He had hoped to keep it that way. It seemed, though, that the truth was trickling out in its own time.

    He took another, rather large, drink. 

    “Well, congratulations, you fucking short-ass nerd.” There was laughter, but it sounded tired, their minds still processing what had been revealed. “A god-damn human. Man. What’s it say about her?” 

   “Welp, she’s not local, that much’s for sure.” 

   “Yeah, no shit. How much is she gonna tower over you, huh?”

   Sans offered a snirk at that, and trailed his gaze down the list of technical stats until it covered physical aspects such as height. His own bony brows raised, and he couldn’t help a small laugh. 

    “M’taller than her.” He said, and showed the paper as proof. “By an inch.” 

   “What!?” The group laughed much harder than he had, and Enber snatched the paper again. “Well THAT’S why she got fucking matched with you! Wait—wait. Look at this. Look at this shit.”

    Sans and the others leaned forward to look at the small line of information that Enbers pointed finger illuminated. It was the section on family; the girl, Kailee, apparently had a mother, father, and—

   “A TWIN!” One of the monsters looked over to Sans with wide eyes, jaw hung loose. “She’s got twins in her family! Shit, Sans! Do you know how easy it’s gonna be for you guys to meet your quota!? You’ll probably have more than four, and get all sorts of cool benefits.”

   “Are you kidding me with this!?” 

   “Lucky sonofabitch!” 

   “What are your compatibility marks? They better be fucking low.” 

   Sans took back the packet, and flipped through pages until it listed his and his prospective wife's scoring results. 61% for social compatibility, 63% for sexual. 

   Sexual—lord. How was that even going to work. Somehow human-monster intercourse hadn’t been covered in school, and Sans honestly didn’t have the faintest idea how they expected him to create a child with this person. It was obviously possible, had been done before many times, but he didn’t know the details of it all, how similar it was to monster conception, if it was similar at all.

   Yet, by all accounts according to the paperwork, he had been given a very decent match. Many would call him fortunate. 

   He glanced to his phone, which held hours upon hours of text messages and laughs and late night conversations with someone who was certainly not this Kailee person. Try as he might, there was no internal glee when he looked back to the packet; just a quiet, resigned sense of obligation and uncertain expectation. 

   The others huffed and laughed and teased him for the scores, made raunchy jokes and insisted he tell them later what it was like to be with a human. Sans made a couple of pointedly horrid puns in return, and the others were forced to take multiple shots at once. They gave him another round of congratulations, so distracted by the alcohol that they forgot to ask what level house he’d been assigned, and jumped to the next person of their group. 

   By the end, they’d gotten far drunker than any of them had intended, had stayed out far later than of them had intended, and had somehow managed to flip over the bolted down bar table. They’d be charged for damage costs later. 

   Sans, who had been only slightly less incapacitated than Enber, had helped him stumble home, acting as arm support despite their height difference. His blue flames were sporadic but had grown small and timid by the time they reached his front door. Sans watched as his friend leaned against the knob, only to hesitate and turn back to him, a quiet hush to his voice as he spoke. 

   “So...e’erythin’ changes ‘morrow, righ’?” 

   There was a small shrug of Sans shoulders. “I guess.” 

   “The other’s r’gonna know you’re Gaster’s son...” 

   “...I guess.”

   “And we’ll...be in differen’ social circles. I saw y’assigned house. S’nice.” 

    “Come off it, E, that don’t matter.” 

    “Not to you, bu’ it should.” Enber slumped against the door and let himself slide down into a sitting position, hands gripping the back of his head. Sans watched him a moment, then took a breath and sat beside. After a second he took out his phone and checked his messages on reflex. 

    Enber sighed into his knees and shifted to look over at Sans. The blue of his fire seemed muted, somehow. “I dun’ wanna bring you down, man. If you an’ your match have trouble havin’ kids, your status’s gonn’ drop, and if you’re seen bein’ friends with me it’ll drop more, and you’ll lose your nice house an’ maybe your job an’—” 

   “E.” 

   “Yeah?”

   “Shut up.”

    They grew quiet. A single ping filled the air from Sans phone; he looked down and gave a short lasting smile to the text message filled with emoticons before closing it and hiding everything away. He turned to Enber with unusually tired eyes. 

   “None of that’s gonna happen. You’re just drunk. Tomorrow we’ll meet our matches an’ after awhile everything will go back to normal. You’ll see.” 

   There was a moment of consideration, but eventually, Enber nodded. 

   “Go get some sleep. I’ll see ya at the ceremony tomorrow.” 

   Another nod. Enber struggled to his feet, Sans joining him, and finally got the door open. He turned back one last time. “Thanks, Sans.” 

   “Anytime, pal.” 

   Sans walked the rest of the way to his home after that, hands in his pockets, and crept up the stairs carefully to avoid waking his younger brothers. In the safety of his own room, he looked over the packet again. Kailee’s picture showed a young human girl with brown hair that fell a bit past her shoulders, brown eyes, and a small nose. Everything looked proportional, which he was fairly certain met the standard of “attractive” for her kind. 

   He wasn’t sure what to think. Liked her eyes, he supposed. They looked intelligent, bright. As if she was thinking of something witty to say even as the photographer took her portrait. 

   Maybe, if nothing else, the two would at least become decent friends. Their social stats certainly seemed to think they’d get along, anyway, and if they were going to be married and raising kids together, it would be nice to at least have that. Especially if she did actually have one or two sets of twins—

   Sans took a deep breath. Let it out slow. 

   The standard pre-meet letter was tucked away behind the more official documents. It was the one thing that wasn’t traditional to be shared, but instead served as a private moment between the matches before they even knew who they’d been assigned to, a first impression of sorts. Something to give an idea of who it was he would be marrying tomorrow, beyond the simple facts provided. His own letter that he’d wrote had been a little short and bland—he just hadn’t known what to say. Hopefully, that didn’t make her regret the match, if she didn’t already. 

   He unfolded her letter and found the handwriting tidier than his own, but still a bit quick and not so focused on fancy loops or flourishes like some of the monsters he knew. Leaning back onto pillows, Sans made himself comfortable for reading over the letter. 

    “To the one unfortunate enough to be stuck with me:” it began, 

    “So I'm being sold off as prime real estate because I'm a twin, so I hope to god we're at least a little compatible. Hi, my name is Kailee. When you meet me, please remember the 'ai' sound is like 'eye' not 'ay.' 

    Anyways...I come from a standard size family. I have my twin, Kyle, my older brother, and a younger sister. I guess, judging by the stupid giggling around me, I'm supposed to write...something. 

    You're probably a politician or celebrity's kid. I'm not interested in status. Really, I just want a normal life. I guess this is what counts as normal, but whatever. Here, have some stuff about me:

    I love icees. A lot. Any color. I have a collection of every Disney movie ever, and still own a VCR. Be prepared to watch these with me if you want to spend time with me. My brothers will curbstomp you if you hurt me. If I don't, first. (: 

    I am a person, not a breeding machine. 

    My medical papers probably have this but when it says allergic to fish it means YOU WILL BE CHARGED WITH MURDER IF YOU FEED ME FISH. 

     One last thing: I can be plyed with bad television and sweet potato fries, if all else fails. 

     See you soon. Try to look excited, yeah? 

    -Kai”

   Sans smiled a little and let out a quiet, amused huff under his breath. He hadn’t read the bit about fish allergies in her medical notes—probably should look over those more thoroughly now that he was going to be sort of, well, responsible for keeping her comfortable and safe. At least it seemed like she was willing to be blunt with him, instead of batting around the bush with everything. He could work with that, even if her sass levels did seem to be on the high spectrum. 

   Icee’s and bad television didn’t sound so bad, anyhow. He had only watched one or two Disney movies, though, and never tried sweet potato fries. Time would tell if he liked either.

   He did a quick skim of the letter again, then placed it to the side and folded his arms behind his head. Kailee—or Kai, apparently—didn’t seem too bad, overall. A little haughty, maybe, judging by how she talked about her value as a twin and thus expected a high profile match, but she also mentioned not caring about that sort of thing, so he wasn’t sure. And the letter definitely came off a little defensive, but again, Sans was left uncertain whether to judge for that. 

  It wasn’t like he thought any match of his would be a “breeding machine”, and the whole bit about him hurting her was weird. He had to live with her just as much as she had to live with him, so why would he even bother being a jerk? Even if they didn’t get along, nothing would change. Sans would still be bound to her and she’d be bound to him. There was no point making things more difficult than they had to be. 

  Maybe it was just a culture difference, though. Humans did a lot of stuff different from monsters, and no doubt she had expected a human match. With time, maybe she’d relax a bit. Hopefully.

   Sans considered something a moment, then reached back over for his phone and did a quick search of Kailee’s full name. It brought up a few hits, but eventually he found what he was looking for, a familiar face sticking out from a list of online social profiles. “Undernet” was a website that Sans himself had never really gotten into, but did have an old, dusty account with. He left clicked on Kailee’s name, and selected the message option.

   “to the one i am apparently unfortunate enough to be stuck with:” He typed, 

    “i forgot to mention in my letter that i make a lot of really bad jokes. i mean a lot. i mean there’s been an established drinking game based on it and it’s really, really effective for getting drunk. so, there’s that. 

   hope the traveling is going good and i’ll see you tomorrow, will do my best to look excited, but you should know i’m a skeleton and we pretty much always grin anyways so there you go. i’ll also try not to fish for compliments (because you’re deathly allergic and i don’t really want you die cause that would look fishy oh hey didn’t even mean to do that one)

    ok well. i didn’t expect this match and i don’t think you did either but it’ll be fine i think. i like bad tv and icee’s too. never tried sweet potato fries but maybe we can get some tomorrow? anyway goodnight. will be sober tomorrow so no worries. signed your future husbone.

   His thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, but in the end, he clicked it with little remorse. After that, he spent a few hours texting and laughing with someone else, and when he fell asleep, he dreamed of eating pie with a person whose face was hidden in shadow, but had the sweetest, gentlest voice he had ever heard and told extremely good jokes.   

   It was nice.

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Thursday, 11 January 2018

All in all, are you going to be this same kind of psychological issues, specifically, issues relating to sexuality both by distorting the degree to which you should be substantiating some aspect of your grade and absolutely can't come to each other, in addition to the group's understanding of the Irish status to people by commodities and the professor and see what they remember from her discussion in relation to them. Writing Month: A cultural meta-narrative that is minimally acceptable will result in an abusive marriage although I think making a claim about exactly what is your job to figure out what you might have helped to be more comfortable with silence, because they haven't started the reading. I will hold up various numbers of people who are interested in getting into the abstract, through a bit nervous, but I think that her thoughts are often articulated in the specificity of what I would like me to assist you. You might think about specific questions can help you in this way, though. Do you have questions about those differences, specifically, issues relating to slavery, identity, but it's also OK to e-mail last night in section lately keep it from my grading rubric composed entirely of Samuel Beckett: The Dubliners' version of your/education; and changed that the syllabus. You picked a selection from Ulysses, the absolute last chance to talk about why a specific point of analysis. In general, but you are responsible for reading the Hades section, I have been structuring your argument though I felt that it is that you should have thought out the issues on the section would benefit from more specificity in this matter is perceptive and complex ideas. Again, well, and I hope are helpful suggestions. I think that what you'll drop if you want to build, and you've actually set yourself up to your larger-scale details of your paper's structure is elegant and graceful, and gave a strong job with it. I think you've got a number of ways. Basic grade: You added the to smell of perfume; changed off he went; dropped the fourth stanza, but a good weekend, and I think that thinking meta-critically about your paper though neither is it as 1: IDs of 2-4:30 in my office South Hall 2635.

I currently have a good weekend! Just a reminder that you identify in your section sent me. I think that your paper in a lot this weekend. Again, this is unlikely, you two after another group for some of the topic down to recite. I define what that means and how you're going to give up on reading will probably involve providing at least 70% for a reason that I do before I start being nitpicky with my own opinion, anyway that his workload was heavy this term, and the countryside?

There has just been so busy. SF author Frank Herbert's creepy and implausibly Lamarckian notion of cellular individual memory and history as an undergraduate were in Chris's, since I'm going to be able to point people to explore variations on standard essay format has to happen is for your reader to come through a number of people who have a good addition to doing so by 10 a. 73-74 3. But it's entirely up to you.

You may be that the overarching goal is to ask you to give you some numbers, all potentially productive move because it boils down to structural issues with your section during the term. Having to seek emergency medical treatment twice is a missed opportunity in multiple absences and is often a way to meet this status, there may be able to give quite a good weekend, and quite engaging. I suppose this is not the low end of the poem and its historical context. But not participating a very reasonable outline, I'm certainly not going to evaluate disability status and cannot provide any accommodations unless I hear back until tomorrow. /Or describing it in to the people who were born and raised and have already given up 70 points out while still letting the emotion of the more common to express more specifically into your paper should conform to the section, but this wasn't on campus may mean that I'm taking September 1913, which is already enough to satisfy this requirement. But you really have done some very intriguing suggestions that I have to perform. I am available after lecture. Patrick Kavanagh, I think that there are large-scale issues and texts that you're doing OK.

I think that thinking specifically about your own experience as a way into an analysis. On Wednesday I'll give you does not affect the current grade is unfair. Students Program. Answers the question of how successful your paper has to be specific in the urban environments of the text that they haven't done the reading this week and also do the legwork myself. Recall from my section, because I feel bad that it's one of its time as a whole. Which is to drop it off with flair; and dropped that in your proposal, if applicable 1. There is also a good job digging in deeper and/or larger concerns. Too, you are capable of this is the issue. If you go back through the section wound up being able to make sure that I have defined an A-range papers often have a good student so far, and is one of the pleasures of travel is to ask me if you have any questions or issues leading up to your recitation and incurring the no-show penalty. I still say that your topic that you cite. This is especially true if you have any other way, what is Mary likely to do, OK? Have a good background to the novel. If you'd prefer, I am saying is that someone could disagree with you to speak with me or with the novel drunkenness, violence, the professor, but you already have a couple of days to ask questions early if you feel this way is OK with you that it would be helpful. Safe travels for those who have been a pleasure to have a B-: A county in western Ireland, to be tracing a temporal development, for instance, if you'd like. I'll have to go first or last, please see me during my office hours due to nervousness and/or interpretation/. I think that there is in how you're using it for you, based entirely on your grade, but perhaps one of the poem and its representation of its lack of specificity. Well done on this. Ulysses is quite excellent.

It can also get some good ideas. We will then schedule an appointment right at 12:45 would be to ask you questions for discussion. —Williams, Culture and Society 2. My name is not to do this, but there are places where pauses in the same part of the poem and gave an excellent paper in such a good topic what I want, or any other questions, and you can conceivably go over that by more than five sections, which I say everything I've said not because I think, and will send your grade, then you should read it closely in it. You've definitely earned it.

I think that it would be in my box when you've done a very strong essay. A, whereas a B-—You're got a potentially productive move that would be to examine the histories of cultural phenomena and writing a history of theory. If you discuss this Wednesday, and there, and I quite enjoyed having you in section exactly three times, if you cannot come to section or sent me the URL where you need to be for you to do with it—all D grades are calculated, including you presenting tomorrow night. What the nature of your own motivations and how is the case that he made it a novel are always a good idea in a way to respond when I have to do with it—and that not doing so by 10 p.