#prof came up with that one!! :D

[collieii]

one line in trimax that's always stuck with me is from chapter 65, right after wolfwood's death. when vash is sticking the punisher by his grave and he says "it was part of his life". that phrasing is so interesting to me. the neutrality of it is one thing that gets me, i think. it was part of his life. for better or worse, whatever it was, the punisher was wolfwood's.

It's pretty easy to think that the punisher might represent violence, the eye of michael, the role of assassin that was forced onto wolfwood, the loss of childhood. but it's not really presented that way, not overtly anyways. we never see wolfwood shun the punisher, he's not conflicted by his use of it. he never considers abandoning it for some other weapon. it's his weapon. he doesn't discard it when he eventually decides to take a more vash-like approach and actually let people live. he pretty easily accepts it as his own, a tool he can use. (to be fair, at least part of that is probably because the punisher is a very good gun.)

the punisher can still represent the harsher aspects of wolfwood's character, the violence he's committed, that he's capable of. that's an important part of his life! and the idea of it as representative of his violent adolescence, childhood that was stripped away, goes along with this - it's literally a cross to bear. but besides showing his past as a burden, i think of the punisher as being a cross of responsibility. when you have a gun you have power, agency - you have a responsibility to make a choice. that's what wolfwood tells vash in chapter 4.

the ability to take a life, the burden of it, is literally his cross to bear. that ability - and that responsibility - was given to him by the eom, literally in terms of the gun, and in terms of his skills. but the eye doesn't think twice about killing people. for them it's not really a choice, a responsibility, it's just a given. but wolfwood can't accept that. he's constantly considering the choices he makes.

so the punisher isn't only a symbol of the eye of michael, of the path that he was forced onto. it's also a way of expressing autonomy. the eye gave wolfwood the gun, but he decides how to use it and what it means. for much of the story wolfwood struggles to decide what to do, he's a very conflicted character. but eventually he resolves to use it against chapel, against knives, to help vash, and protect the orphanage. the gun gives him agency.

so the punisher was part of his life. it was the tool that he used to commit acts of violence, acts that he was forced into, but also the tool he used to break free.

it's heavy for vash, too. he's not exempt from that idea, the idea of responsibility. as wolfwood said much earlier in the story, vash has always been able to sidestep the question of "what do i choose?", because he's only ever given himself one option - everybody lives. and he's always succeeded. but as wolfwood says, "the day will come when you'll have to choose". one day, it's not going to work.

and of course the story progresses, the stakes ramp up, and vash learns more, goes through more, and is pushed to his limits. i think by this point, by wolfwood's death, and maybe because of it, vash has realized that he might have to make that difficult choice in the near future. that's one reason why he wants to "do him proud". he has a lot of reasons to say this of course - to not let wolfwood's sacrifice go to waste, for example. but if we're thinking of the cross as responsibility, then vash is saying he doesn't want to forget the lessons he learned because of wolfwood. wolfwood has always grappled with responsibility, with what the right thing to do is. and the right thing is often not easy. vash hopes that when the times comes for him to make a choice, he'll make a good one, one that does right by wolfwood's memory.

[needylittlesuccubus]

Being the only girl in a class is so scary, why do they just stare (⊙ _ ⊙ ) when I walk in? It's uncomfty

[chucapybara]

moral support arlecchino plush during lecture demo presentation

[pettyprocrastination]

shoutout to my fucking G of a professor that was fine with me skipping class yesterday so i could have a booth at the harvest festival AND showed up after class and bought stuff from me :’)

[satoruhour]

HIHII hope you are doing well!!!

I have a request but if you're not comfortable writing it's completely fine too!!

Anyways~ can you write something with University professor geto x top student reader??? They have a lot of sexual tension and geto continuously targets the reader in his lectures only for her to storm into his office after a test in which he didn't give her the marks she deserved just so he could piss her off and eventually leading them to blow off some steam together hehe-

HEJSJSH ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF THE DAY💗💗

-🍒

I GOT THAT DUMB D*CK !

a/n: hi cherry 2! saying 2 because i already have another cherry anon, thank u for waiting for this btw sorry this took so long omggg!!! i wanna make it similar to the short blurb i did here, but ill leave out reader being a camgirl! a lot of lore talk, just a warning

wc: 8k (sigh ....)

warnings: so much lore lol sorry, no beta we die like men, age gap (32 / 24), professor!geto, fem!reader, geto is also a cam worker, masturbation (both f and m), toy use during f! masturbation (vibrator), fantasising, pet names, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, oral (m receiving, f receives briefly at the end), dumbification (ig?) face-fucking, deep-throating, spitting in mouth, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, cum eating, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

no one could really pinpoint the reason why professor geto had picked on you, called you out so much, and why you entertained the incessant questions. it was unbecoming of a prof., he knew, it was never smart to favour one person (negatively, in this case) in a room of bright students who could read between the lines. but he just feels himself so drawn to your furrowed eyebrows and words laced with venom, because at the end of the day, he can see that you aren’t all talk.

you challenge his views and you do it in a way that catches him off-guard. you propose insane arguments that you willingly would die at the grave just to find evidence for; or it could just be because he was staring too much at the way your mouth moved and your eyes expressed everything to pay attention to your words, finding that you were just too beautiful to be chasing a linguistics degree.

this was another thing: geto suguru could possibly have anyone he wanted. he was fine. shoulders pulled back in proper posture, hair either tied up fully or just halfway, and always, always wearing shirts with sleeves that reach his wrist. to that, everyone could see just how bulked the man was, top looking too tight all the time.

geto knew he was fine, too, because on top of (and before) being a professor, he found that he could get a good amount of money by just streaming — camera propped below his neck and obviously tight button-up shirt discarded to reveal his tattooed body, while he has his legs spread and the thirsty, horny comments flooding in on the platform. it’s been a norm by now, started from his uni days where he needed some extra money to support his fees and living necessities.

one year turned into two, two years turned into stagnancy during his third and fourth years (save for a few occasional streams), and up came a little funny graduation stream suggested by his best friend. geto had spent a good half ’n hour talking about his time in university and thanking his viewers, changing up the setting almost immediately by showing hard he was.

[uzum4kisl0ver]: YEAAAH we’re getting to the good stuff, thank u for feeding us so well these few years uzumaki-san!!

[minstash96]: Congrats on graduating Uzumaki-san!! I rmb joining during your third year and found out from everyone u were getting busier </3 but Im glad youre back again!!!

[g_bigdick_s]: fellas is it gay to support your best friend’s graduation jerking off stream

the flood of “yes”’s replying to gojo made the streamer laugh, thankful that his best friend had listened a little and at least changed gojobigdicksatoru to just his “G.S.” initials to avoid people finding his LinkedIn. from there, geto had gotten into the true nature of his stream easily, fishing out his cock to stroke and loving the sounds of tips coming in, the name of his alias Uzumaki continually commented. since then, it’s become a side hustle — finishing his masters, training to become a professor, it’s all natural to him, taking even further steps to make sure he isn’t found out.

exactly, he could have anyone he wanted — a fan from his streaming account, or one of satoru’s regular fwb’s but instead he finds himself drawn to someone else, you, the second year student in his bilingualism and multilingualism module that he has no trouble teaching despite his freshly employed status.

at the start of the week, the gods decided thought it would be funny to delay the campus bus that would take you to the english department for a consultation session with your professor. you couldn’t focus in lectures due to bad cramps, you were behind on your non-major related courses, the bad luck just seemed to seep into one day after another. you had woken up late, putting on a terrible outfit that no one really cared about, except your professor who just had a smirk on his face.

“if you notice, runes were created as they were spoken — spelt as they are said which almost look like ‘pictographs’,” prof. geto switches to the next slide with the runes and their meanings alongside a jumble of symbols that send the whole class into hysterics, “can anyone sound out the phonetics of these runes to me? hint: even though i said they look like pictographs, the first rune is definitely not an E.”

he was known for asking questions during lectures, pleased with anyone that would even try because he knew how quiet lecture theatres could get. he was exactly like that in university, too, letting satoru take all the attention due to the many unknown people in the same room. now, he found that asking the questions was a little entertaining, seeing the way students look back down at their laptops and avoid eye contact. but he doesn’t need to do anything and his body is already turnt towards you. he’s not even pointing physically, which he thinks he’s done a good job of restraining himself.

ᛊᛃᚨᚾᛖᛚ

“the words and names should be as they sound — so ‘s’ or ᛊ should translate into a ‘c’ since they didn’t have a C back then and it’s the closest sound to C. ᛃ can’t be ‘h’ because of the usage of H in hagl . . its pronunciation is different and plus, we’ll spell it how we say it, so maybe it’s ‘j’?” you mutter to yourself, an urge to answer the quickest, always. you aren’t sure where this streak came from, but you’ve been smart always, “sja . . it either can be chanel or channel since there’s a rule you can’t use the same rune twice in succession . .”

professor geto already knows you’d be the first to answer, raising your hand even without looking since you were still calculating the other four letters which you put together fairly quickly.

you take the safest route, “chanel, with one N.”

geto clicks his tongue and sucks in a breathe, “so close, miss (y/n), but it’s because i cheated a little on my part.” you can feel your blood boil and the grimaces of other students when he switches to the next slide and there’s a little grin on his face. it says — ‘there is no distinction between capital and small runes, nor can you use the same rune twice continually.’

“you are right, partially, but i did want to drive home the point,” which he’s sure you already know. “that words with two N’s or L’s or whatever, would only show up in the runic language as only one character.” your face morphs into something of annoyance and the grin on professor geto’s face only widens — that defiant, headstrong nature is something he loved, but the grin drops a little when he imagines something . . out of the classroom. his pants tighten.

you mirror him, clicking your tongue and reluctantly taking down the note in your documents before sinking into your chair — not even chō, you friend, could find the proper words to comfort you. you spend the rest of the lecture, sulking, unwillingly answering his incessant questions with a scowl on your face and a headache forming.

this never stops—

“miss (y/n)?” one-on-one meetings were the bane of your existence, but it was the only way to connect with your professors properly — here, geto calls you to talk about your latest essay where you were the last on the roster. by then, everyone has filed out with nobara waiting for you just outside the classroom.

“don’t have to call my name, i’m the only one here.” you mutter under your breath, and geto feels a little annoying today.

“what was that?”

“nothing—”

he hums, scooting his chair closer once you sit, and while you find the gesture a little weird, you’re overcome with just how good he smells and it only fuels your hatred more. it’s no fair that he’s so . .

“miss (y/n).” you sigh with an apology, frankly not ready to hear how he’d be attacking your essay. it was written on a rushed timeline, you didn’t cite your sources properly, you knew some criticism was warranted as much as you didn’t like to hear it from your professor’s mouth.

“. . you do know you can’t just rely on your brain, right?” geto speaks softly and you feel your heart flutter at his tone. he points to the places where you forget your in-text citations.

“but professor, information about syntax and phonetics just comes like second nature . .” you mumble, ignoring how he closes his eyes and hisses, “and all the sources on the internet say different things.”

“then just find a reliable one.”

you tsk, taking the paper from him and flipping to the next page, “well, i did one here.” the paper makes a sound when you press your finger into it, aware of how close you are. from here you can feel the heat radiating off his body, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together.

“too long ago, needs to be within five years.” geto’s lying through his teeth.

“no, it does not!” you pull back and look at him incredulously. ah, the feeling’s gone, “not in language related papers, at least!”

“but that claim was from the 2000’s, miss (y/n), for all we know it could’ve been resolved by then.”

“then why didn’t you say anything about chō’s scholar article from the 1990’s?” you’re standing up, now, furrowed eyebrows depicting the very thing you feel: confusion, agitation at being treated like this. given you weren’t in the best condition when you wrote this essay, but you still gave it your all.

“her argument was about the interconnectedness between the romance languages — yours,” he punctuates while leaning back in his chair. you don’t like how your eyes flit down to his lap, but you’re forced to look up when he stands up too, “is about the use of ciphers in comparison to an immature language developed on the internet that created in the 2019s. any scholar claim before that would be void.”

your blood boils just like that day. alas, he had a good point, but like always, the gentle slit of his eyes and the all-knowing smile didn’t match the bullying he was laying on you and you despise it.

even! even, as you notice how there’s probably less than a inch between your faces as you puff out your chest to look more intimidating and yet geto suguru towers over you. and even when your heart beats loudly in your ears, feeling his hot breath fan over your own face while you don’t miss how he licks his lips and glances down to yours not-so-secretly.

you swallow at the silence, until there’s the annoying notification of his Outlook cutting the tension and soon you’re snatching the essay from him, walking to where your bag is. although you want to let your anger overflow, all you say is a tame, “noted. thanks, prof” with a glare, eye twitching.

you made sure to slam the classroom door with shaky hands . .

. . but you’re not very good at capping your rage. “i swear to god! he better fucking check his mirror and admire himself because soon i’m going to beat him up so bad that everyone can’t recognise him.” geto’s lips turn up in a small smirk at your flared expression he just witnessed — he just loves your dirty mouth and he finds himself thinking of it more and more often.

chō only can tut, “so you find him attractive?”

“what? how the hell did you infer that from my rant?” you scoff, shoving her to the side, not aware that your whispered outburst is heard as he’s packing up. he simply enjoys looking at you walk away through the glass slit of the door, hips swaying unknowingly.

“bad news, guys,” geto, or rather Uzumaki, sighs on screen, adjusting so the lens of the camera rested just below his collarbones. easily, his chat fills up with a mixture of horny comments and genuine questions, chuckling to himself as he unbuttons his shirt. he feels more like a sinner at this point, suddenly flustered with the confession he’s about to make.

“i think i’ve taken quite a liking to someone,” geto hums, hands going to his trousers to palm his bulge. he had to get home immediately after that, cancelling his meetings for the day. with a single text to gojo, the white-haired man was excited to hear everything about this new person, thankful that his best friend will finally not be alone.

[g_bigdick_s]: TELL US! TELL US!!!! TELL US!

but professor geto is lost instantly, imagining you as he massages his erection. thinking about your anger transforming into pleasure, into obedience for him as he forces your mouth down on his cock. oh . . how’d your mouth and hands feel, how’d your pussy feel.

geto groans, already removing his dick from the constraints, and pumping it to full length. he doesn’t even talk much, only the endless comments and tips reminding him he was still on live. spitting on his hand, he wraps his hand around himself again, thumbing the tip and hoping it’d be your tongue swirling around it.

what would you look like on your knees, taking each inch of his cock down your throat? would he be able to wipe the defiance off your face? would he be able to fuck his smart student, dumb?

“you need a good destress, woman,” chō suggests over the phone, voice a bit uneven due to it being stuck in between her shoulder and ear, “go on camstar or something, i’m sure you’ll find something hot there.”

“chō, i am not going on a porn streaming website! i’ll very much settle for my smut fics, thank you.”

“boo, don’t you get bored? i get that normal adult industry videos are super inaccurate but . . when was the last time you’ve watched an unfiltered, unedited jerk off vid? that’s the hottest.”

you scoff, “yeah, like you would know, miss complain-whenever-you-get-dick-pics.”

“that’s because it’s unsolicited! plus all the men who send me pics have ugly dicks. if anything i’m more open to get unsolicited pussy pics rather than consensual dick pics at this point.” your friend nonchalantly says, spreading her fingers to look at her manicured nails, “but anyway, prof geto is on your ass too much lately. maybe he wants to get in your pants?”

you don’t recoil at the suggestion as much as you expect to and you’re puzzled at that — “please never say that again.” just as you’re saying this, you’re typing in camstar.org even though you told yourself not to but deep down, you know that you’ve been craving more than just twitter links and porn with plot stories. on the front page, you’re seeing a video thumbnail of a guy with a fairly big . . feature, countless tattoos lining his body while you can catch a faint glimpse of his long hair in the dark room — it’s the only one that draws you in, other streams merging into a blur.

chō’s voice fades off when you notice just how popular the stream is, cursor hovering over the title (“just a ramblefap, need to release some tension”) almost tempting you to click.

“okay, will get back to you,” succumbing to your needs, you shamelessly grab your vibrator just as she cheers into the phone. you can hear that’s my girl! on the other side as you stifle a smile, bidding a goodbye before you settle into bed. from there, you do what you always do: relax for a few, slow your breathing, get yourself wet a little—

click.

The stream you have attempted to view has ended a minute ago. We apologise for the inconvenience caused. View more livestreams below:

you shove the vibrator under your pillow and bury your head into it, screaming.

“i mentioned in yesterday’s lecture that Latin evolved from the dialects of the Italic peoples of ancient Italy, or Latium, a region in central western Italy. over time, Latin absorbed elements from other languages, such as Etruscan and Greek, and it became the main language of the western Mediterranean.” professor geto rambled on in classic geto fashion — it was his passion that made him so easy to listen to, as with the many enamoured girls with googly eyes and the guys who wish they could carry themselves the way geto did.

you’d say the same thing: his love for his subject of study made him attractive — charming even — as much as you didn’t want to admit to your friend, but you’d be more open with your attraction like everyone is if he wasn’t—

[9:52am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] so fucking annoying and cocky and picking on me all the time!!!!!! im soooo sick of him im so serious omfg ....

but today, he’s looking less at you and more at other students, or even marvelling at the terrible paint job of the classroom as he goes from slide to slide. he talks about the derivation in which French separates from Latin, borrowing similar spellings and meanings from the old language while separating the way they are spoken.

“French is the most divergent of the romance languages because of strong Gallic and Frankish influences. The Celtic Gauls spoke a language similar to Old Dutch but adopted Latin as the Romans invaded Gaul.” you don’t even have to look at him to get him thinking of lewd things, spiralling into his fantasies ever since last night. geto is a little fatigued, too, having lost sleep over his fucking student which he just can’t help bothering. excitement at having you in class before is now turning into dread with every week that passes, and this week is just one instance.

“uh— i-i know you guys aren’t well-versed in either, but with your knowledge of both languages,” geto pulls at his tie. he feels hot, “discuss with your tutorial groups, the differences between the two and list down examples. just come up with one difference, but preferably name a few instances.”

[10:01am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] wish u were here im so bored 😭😭 profs acting so weird today tho

[10:01am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] is he looking hot and bothered, nervous ??? like he wants to cry? im tellin you he wants you fr

of course she’d come out of her sickness-induced sleep just to bother you about him having the hots for you.

[10:02am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] you’re so ... i swear pls shut up he may want me but i do NOT want him

[10:03am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] not even while you were just ranting about how his side profile looked a little too good in lecture yesterday?? anyway i hope you’ll be able to get that nut tn 🙏🏼 that guy on camstar sounded hot asf

[10:04am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] ikr i cant believe i got cockblocked by a fuckin livestream ending 💀 thank you fr i need it atp

“any progress here?” he comes out behind you and you slam the phone so hard you give the both of you a scare while your other friends exchange giggles with each other. what you don’t know, is how his arm is positioned upon the back of your chair and his whole body hovers just beside yours. you’re threatened to look, but you know if you do, you’d be falling deeper into the pit that you promised yourself not to fall into.

“yup, we’re just discussing things about how in terms of grammar, French has conjugation but almost no declension. but— uh, it rather uses word order to express some of the intricacies that Latin expresses through word endings.”

you can see geto nod from your peripheral, “good. good answer, any examples to show me?”

your friends nod towards you since you’re usually the one with all the information about different languages. they aren’t foreign to the way geto keeps calling on you to answer him, too, so you shouldn’t have any problem with this, right?

wrong. you’re stuttering through your answer, turning your head finally and being met with the sight of prof geto looking down on you like a deer caught in headlights. you think that being in lecture theatres, sitting near to the back and your hatred in general has desensitised you to the beauty of your professor, because being under him like this makes your core pulse uncomfortably and your voice shaky.

“. . hm? what was that?”

“i was uhm— saying how— uh,” the way geto nods at you makes you more nervous, painting you as someone who someone who had all bark and no bite, but the other knows very well that you had a nasty bite. you’re smart and witty, pretty, hot as fuck, and if anything, it’s taking everything in geto not to bend you over and show you your place in this very classroom in front of everyone, too.

“little lady got nothin’ for me today?” geto purses his lips and lets his teasing side take over, an easy-going smile taking over his features that you just want to kiss and slap off at the same time. wait.

“i didn’t get enough sleep because i was too busy trying to rewrite the damn essay you said i had outdated and missing sources for,” you speak through gritted teeth, feeling a mixture of arousal and pure rage for the man hovering over you.

geto juts his lip out in a pout, face getting dangerously close to yours and challenging you. he just hopes your two friends won’t say anything, “well, darling, if you picked an easier topic to argue about, you wouldn’t be doing that, would you?”

“well, sorry i’m always trying to outdo myself. are you, professor geto? what with your boring suits and black and white slide designs?”

you click your tongue and turn back to your phone to pull up your chat with chō while geto takes a deep breath, desperately hoping the hard-on wouldn’t show through his slacks. your other two friends only giggle even more at the exchange, because for the rest of the class, professor geto is on edge, unable to teach coherently.

[11:17pm, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] YOU DID WHAAAAATTTTT...???? GIRL YOU SAID THAT???!!!!!!

[11:18pm, (y/n) -> chō 💟] bro what if i get expelled.. i shouldnt have but he was pissing me off so much... i did put an apology in the end tho

by then, you’ve already submitted your rewritten essay, putting in a short note at the end for your behaviour in class. although you don’t take it back, you’re still trying to play it safe especially with how much you paid to get into university. you scroll along camstar, bored out of your mind and hoping to find something as compelling as the inked guy from last week, but nothing really draws you in. until you’re refreshing the page, and just like the previous time, the popularity of that same bulking guy seems to push his video to the top.

and finally, before you’re clicking into the video, you check out his profile: in his early thirties, started this account when he was 24 and in university. you smack your lips at that — he’s been doing this for almost ten years? that’s dedication. in curiosity, you scroll down his account, seeing the progression of which this guy built up his figure and tattoos that litter his body. he’s kept the same format, camera showing his body chest down until you’re lazy to scroll more, a little disappointed in not being able to find any indication of his face.

you think that maybe you saw a glimpse of that wrist tattoo that matched the tattoo on your professor’s wrist, but you could just be imagining things.

“alright guys . .” the man on the screen huffs, clothes already discarded to get straight to the point, and you’re recording a small snippet of the same guy you told chō about. “had a rough day today.”

the onslaught of comments going i can make u feel better!!! Take ur anger out on me Uzumaki-san makes you sputter and laugh, sending that video first before you’re taking another. your attention is stolen for a moment, seeing chō react with emojis to your video message (“let’s see what emails i got today, huh?”), but the structure of sentences that the man speaks soon brings you out of jollity and into shock.

“how cute, an essay sent straight to my email.” geto wants to do anything but look at emails right now, but ever since he’s gotten your rewritten assignment, it’s all he’s wanted to check out if it wasn’t for the many meetings and errands he had to run today. “yadda yadda . . oh?”

“i’m sorry for today’s lesson,” purposely pausing to leave out his name, geto continues on, “i shouldn’t have reacted in that way no matter the situation.” a smirk forms on his face while your body fills with dread. in your panic, you pull up your own document whilst catching all of this on camera, tracking each word as the man on camstar.org continues to say out your apology word by word.

and then bit by bit, you’re making out how the man behind the camera might, just might be your linguistics professor. the broad shoulders, the jawline, the long hair, the manspread . .

but even with your heightened combination of excitement and revelation, you don’t click away, blindly sending the video to your friend and then shamefully digging under your pillow to grab your vibrator.

“teaching people is so difficult sometimes, guys,” he grunts, pulling down his underwear and revealing his already hard cock. he lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps a hand around his shaft, “you usually get the people who won’t do any work, the ones who are absent half the time — usually they go hand in hand.”

professor geto laughs and you twitch at the lovely sound. “but . . there’s this one girl . . in my classes— f-fuck.”

you’re entranced, watching your professor masturbate in front of thousands of people who possibly didn’t know a thing about this man while you try to get your jaw off the floor, “who is entirely different from these categories.”

“she’s smart,” geto groans out and you watch transfixed as he starts to pump himself, hips grinding up into his palm, “she’s so smart that i’d want to get to know her one day and just talk about anything.”

“s-she’s so fucking attractive, too, you guys won’t even— oh goddd . .” you feel like you’re being watched, so you’re careful with how you’re putting your vibrator to your core and once you start it, the moan that leaves you lines up with geto’s deeper groans. it turns you on so damn much.

with his head tilted back, he’s long gone as he moves his hands faster and faster, the slick noises of his pre-cum and spit mixing in together — geto only wishes he could act on his desires once the course was over, but knows you’ll probably be mortified at the prospect. at least here, he can imagine that it’s your mouth or cunt doing all the work.

“s-shitttt . .” the professor sounds out, hissing when he thumbs his tip and even more pre comes spilling out and while you watch, you’re hypnotised by the beautiful moans in its perfect cadence and the thickness of his cock. by now his chest is heaving and he’s holding onto his bedsheets so tight you wish it was your thighs.

“i want to fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head and get her dumb on my cock,” geto whines, hips fully bucking up now while you press your vibrator deeper into your clit. you’re left wondering how his mouth would feel, to shut him up by pressing him into your cunt until he can’t breathe, soak his stupid fucking suits, “want to hear her moan my name.”

you whimper at all the things professor geto swears he wants to do to you, grinding into your hand while he speeds up as well. he doesn’t speak, simply stroking himself as he thighs tense up and he squeezes his shaft with head full of visions of you in terribly lewd positions, making disgusting sounds, and all for him. it isn’t long before geto cums with a loud drawn out moan, shooting his cum onto his torso with a sigh before taking a sticky hand to his lips, licking it off — “i’d want to see my cum dripping out of her one day.”

that sends a chill down to your core, biting your pillow before you release softly all over your hand and vibrator; you spend the rest of the night watching professor geto’s other videos.

[12:32am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] oh. OH..........

“i should’ve just taken an off-day today, i do not want to get back our results.” chō rubs at her eyes and temples, wanting anything to do with the return of test marks, but unfortunately it was the week after midterms and it was inevitable, “don’t need to ask you though, you’re probably not worried at all.”

“trust me, i am,” you bite the inside of your cheek. it’s been at least . . two weeks after that whole debacle, and despite your intense vents with your friend and the continuous picking on by prof. geto, nothing out of the blue was happening. except, maybe, your growing physical need for your professor and your simultaneous, increasing hatred for him.

“it’s only midterms — you don’t need to worry too much since it doesn’t contain a high percentage. what you should be focusing on are your finals. we’ll work on your shortcomings and mistakes here so you guys will do the best when the time comes.”

and when professor geto comes around to hand you your test, all you do is glare up through your lids, taking it from him before feeling your whole world crumble.

“a B+?!” your mouth gapes open at the blatant 65/100 mark that glares back at you. you know that you would’ve gotten anything but a 65, willing yourself to study harder and harder just to rub it in his pretty little face that you weren’t falling behind in his class. at this point it’s got to be personal, so soon, you’re packing up your things angrily with the intent to storm his office after your other classes.

it’s late in the afternoon when you finally finish your other tutorials on a short fuse, him clearly getting ready to head home by the darkness of his office when you shove your way through the door.

professor geto is sat in a laid-back position, tie hung on the hooks installed in the office and a few buttons are unbuttoned, revealing the very familiar tattoos you’ve become acquainted with.

“to who do i owe the pleasure?”

“cut the crap, prof.,” you scowl, using your foot to slam the office door close. despite the late nights being buried in your sheets, you won’t let yourself be treated like this, “i deserved anything but a 65 on midterms.”

geto tilts his head, sitting up and gesturing out to you; you realise he wants to see your test paper.

“ah!” with a finger, he makes a show of finding for your obvious mistakes which was minimal — but the way he marks obnoxiously tells you everything you need to know, “here. your comprehension of the similarities between Latin and Ancient Greek was too surface level, you didn’t explain why—”

“i. did!” you press down into the paper like the first time, leaning over his table and reading out the exact answer you wrote just a few days ago, “here, since your blind ass wants to act like i wasn’t answering the question.” you push yourself into his desk more, eyes levelled with his. you dare him to say something smart.

“well, your explanation of the six cases in Latin left out the locative, the last one, and there were some problems in the conjugation that the test asked of you.”

“bullshit. show me, if you’re so confident.”

professor geto knows he’s hit a dead-end. he was telling lies, full of it, but he’s enjoying every second of the anger that translates into your features, of the growl in your voice. he leans back further the more you close in on him.

“nothing, right? so tell me, do you hate me that much?”

geto simply laughs, crossing his arms and reminiscing on the many nights he’s spent doing anything but.

“quite the opposite, sweetheart.” the name catches you off-guard for a moment, but your sour face returns soon enough.

“then what the fuck do you think you’re doing, picking endlessly on a student?”

your professor sits forward, prompting you to cower back. you think it’d be good to bring up whatever he’s got going on on camstar.org but you’ll wait to a good moment before you say anything about your trump card, until geto snaps you out of your stupor by towering over you. the sheer difference makes you swallow.

“because i like seeing you flared up and angry and mad.” professor geto surprises you with each second, the nonchalance in which he said it, the stupid, attractive smirk on his face. now’s the time.

you compose yourself, thinking of the best way to phrase this, “you know you’re not entirely safe, either, you know. i could report you with the frequency in which you’re picking on me.”

you point a finger to his chest, thinking you could get him to lay off immediately with this as much as you were hoping he wouldn’t. the attention was unwarranted but not entirely . . terrible, “that wouldn’t look so good on your record, right, Uzumaki-san?”

you relish in the surprise that seeps into geto’s pretty features but it’s a short-lived victory when he goes back into a relaxed state, expression neutral — “so you know.”

“know . . what?” your professor pulls away and walks around his desk, finally in close proximity to you like he’s always wished.

“how badly i want you.” he whispers, but doesn’t go past that, rather letting you figure everything out for yourself.

“‘. . fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head’, right?” you mumble softly, not admitting to even chō that you had watched that livestream over and over enough to memorise the few sentences. geto wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer, faces so close that you could just shut him up.

“go on.”

“you want me to go dumb on your cock,” professor geto mutters a correct which undeniably sends a thrill to your core.

“you want to hear me to moan your name.” “—want to hear her moan my name.”

a small smile spreads across his face (even if you left out the most important thing) as he finishes his own sentence with you, eyes clouded over with lust and your scent and he’s positive he can smell your soaked panties from here if he tries hard enough.

“that’s right.”

“sooo . .” by god, you fucking hated the man, but seeing someone stroke their cock to just the thought of you — how could you pass off such a good opportunity? “do you prefer professor geto, or suguru?”

geto groans at his first name usage, setting you on his desk and presses himself into you at the sound of papers flying to the floor, stationary falling to the ground. he can only hope no one walks in. he’s fully hard, loving how your legs naturally spread for him.

“whatever you want, baby.” and after, it’s all history with the way geto crashes his lips into yours, letting you pull at his jacket and shirt, practically ripping open the buttons to see his tattoos that you’re begging to see. slowly, he lets you trace them while he kisses down your neck, roughly pulling your sweater off of you. you have the cutest tits, packaged nicely in your bra which he has no trouble taking off. there’s a small sound that escapes his mouth when he unclasps your bra and your breasts come falling out.

“didn’t tell me you had such a nice pair . .” you giggle.

“yeah, like i would straight up tell my professor that.” with a hand, your hand follows the ink of his dragon that wraps around his body and torso, right down to his happy trail, “but i mean, you get the honour of seeing it now.”

with a squeeze to his bulge, you whisper, “maybe i’ll let you fuck them next time.”

geto lets out a little moan, “fucking minx,” before he latches his mouth onto your nipple, kneading the other greedily. a soft moan leaves your mouth as you knead his erection, a culmination of your combined groans in the quiet office. soon he’s giving attention to the other, a hand trailing down into your panties where he rubs your clit to test the waters, and he smiles into your skin at the way your hand falters and your head hangs forward.

“p-professor . .” it’s clear geto can’t wait, because he pushes a finger into you easily with how dripping wet you are, panties showing a dark patch of your juices. “s— so thick—”

“i know, baby, gotta stretch you out,” a soft pop! is heard as he comes off your nipple before he meets your lips in a sloppy kiss. he shoves his tongue into your mouth the moment he pushes a second finger in and he swallows your moans, letting you feel around his body to dig your nails in — it was just too damn much.

“so— suguru, your f-fingers, they’re so—” even with your protests, your hips grind up against his thick fingers that are pumping in and out of you, taking every last piece of fire in you as you succumb completely.

“what, miss (y/n)?” geto memorises the exact way all your previous blazing words are reduced to mere mewls and whimpers, alongside your pleas for more, more, more.

“i need something—” you whine when he pushes all the way inside, stretching your cunt so well as you clench around him like a vice and sucking him in, “i wanna make you feel good—”

you get at least a little resolve in the time it took you to say that, drunkenly unbuckling his belt before pulling his cock out. his tip is positively leaking, fingers curling instinctively in your pussy and your moans mingle together again.

“c’mon, prof, please?” geto tuts, reluctantly removing his fingers from your cunt which he wish he could spend more of his time in, but gives in to you as you switch positions, pushing him against his own desk. from there you’re going to your knees, marvelling at the cock you’ve watched on your very own screen.

“better than you imagined?”

you roll your eyes, “shut up or i’m blue-balling you.”

geto exhales forcefully, cut off when you put your mouth gently over his tip. you suckle on it like a pacifier, swirling your tongue around the mushroom head and looking up at him through your lashes; the sight is heavenly. the hair from his bun had fallen out, framing his pleasure-filled face, and the veins on his arms pop out so much from how harshly he’s grabbing the wood.

“f-fuck, baby . .” his words are lost once you start bobbing your head, encasing his shaft deep in your mouth as you suck and lick and slobber over his thick cock, using your hands to stroke the places you can’t reach. a choked moan weasels itself out of geto when one of your hands deviate to play with his balls, squeezing lightly at the sack while you continue to lick the underside of his length.

“take me like a slut, don’t you?” geto says breathlessly, fingers going through your hair to gather the strands into a makeshift ponytail, cradling your head to guide your mouth, but he soon starts to thrust into your waiting mouth.

“want me to fuck your dirty whore mouth?” your professor asks and you hate how much it turns you on as he brings you off to let you breathe for a moment. you stick out your tongue, big doe eyes just pleading to be used as your hands anchor themselves down to his belt loops.

“y—yes, prof., give me everything you got,” geto hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer as he taps your tongue with his tip, cock so heavy and thick it makes you whine a little before he shoves it in without warning. the moan that rumbles deep in your throat sends vibrations up his body and he starts a pace immediately.

“that’s it, that’s it—” you breathe through your nose as geto face fucks you, two hands covering the back of your head as he thrusts into your throat. your mouth’s just so damn warm and tight it has geto groaning non-stop while your eyes start to well up with tears. he uses you like a cocksleeve, abusing your throat each time his tip meets with it.

“fuuuckk— yes, yes, your throat’s so—” geto tilts his head back when he buries his cock in you, the deepest he’s ever been and your nose meets with his pubes, the smell of his musk and sweat making your eyes roll back in pleasure. suguru is all grunts before moving again, the gagging, gawking noises filling the small space.

“mmhm— mmf!” you moan around his length, trying your best to move your tongue along the underside of his cock. a hand goes down to quell the growing need of your cunt, slipping a finger or two in.

“dirty girl just can’t think straight when she has a— s-shit— cock in her, huh?”

you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering when you feel his tip twitch in your mouth and geto spills right into your throat with a long moan. your lids flutter close, taking as much cum as you can before coming off with a deep breath. strings of his cum and your saliva connect you to his cock, the lewdness of it all showing clearly in how sloppily you sucked your professor off.

“open.” and you show your tongue still full of his cum, taking the opportunity to lean down to let a ball of spit fall from his mouth. it drops painfully slow to your tongue, closing it only when you hear the rasp of swallow, “good girl.”

“think i’ve kept you waiting for too long, need to be in you,” geto brings you up by your upper arms, propping you up nicely onto his desk where you already start to leak into the wood, “do you want me to be in you?”

“only if you promise to stop picking on me, prof.,” you pout. really, a changed girl once you get some cock, huh?

“but you’re too cute not to bother, baby.” your pout deepens and geto feels a tug on his heart. oh, you were too adorable, knowing you’d kill him the next time he mentions this. he hopes they’ll be a next time.

“i mean it, suguru,” you murmur as he uses his tip to play with your juices, smearing it around your cunt. “treat me like a proper person.”

“can i at least treat you like a slut behind closed doors?”

you bit your lip, he’s asking for a next time, and who are you to reject him?

“whatever you want, professor,” you wiggle your hips along his cock, hoping for some friction which he grants to you with no problem, “use me. treat me like your cum dump.”

geto hisses at your tightness and your words as he bottoms out in you. he’s had your pussy once and already cannot get enough of you, moaning each time he moves in and out of your cunt. your walls hug him so snugly, sucking his cock in endlessly.

“baby, baby, baaaby . . your pussy’s so fuckin’— good—” he grunts into your ears, hips starting to thrust slowly into you. he swears he can see you in your tummy, asking you to look down, “look at how deep i am in you, sweetheart.”

you moan at just how big he was as you glance down, but you’re more focused on the way your pussy spreads for him, the cute veins on his length as he moves in you. you’re leaking so much that it’s effortlessly, the way he rams into you.

“sugu— suguru . . mmfuck—” geto groans upon feeling you rub your clit, your own hips bucking needily into his own as your juices start to drip down his balls. this was everything that he hoped would happen; your features morphed into pleasure, you descending into stupidity just from some dick, feeling your pussy, finally.

“hear yourself?” your professor proposes the question and you’re confused for a moment until he slows down and you whine at the sudden change, brought to attention just how soaking you were. the soft shlick, shlick, shlick sounds take your breath away, as with the translucent sheen of your juices coating his cock.

there, your professor resumes his pace, “hear how fuckin’ sloppy this pussy is for me. listen to her,” your senses are all overwhelmed: by how he hits all your sweet spots, the sweat on your back, your fast-beating heart and you let out a mangled whimper, “yesss . . that’s what i like to hear.”

geto smirks at how you can’t even answer, picking up his pace into a regular one. with his cock buried deep in you, you have no choice but to let your body move with his thrusts, jerking each time his balls meet your ass noisily.

“is this what the little lady needed? just some professor cock to get her to not be so damn uptight!”

“y—yessss . .” you’re delirious, “yesyesyes, suguru!” you squeal when he holds your legs up and pushes your legs into your chest, tongue lolling out at the deepness that he was in you.

“fucking slut,” geto mumbled, hips turning sloppy with fatigue taking over, but your cunt was just too good to stop, “where d’you want me to cum, baby?” he knows you’ll answer how he wants you to, especially after watching his livestream—

“i-inside— inside, pleaseplease,” the circles on your clit are messy, now, chasing your high more than ever, but your pussy is grasping onto him like a vice, prompting groans deep from his throat. “want your cum dripping out of me, prof—”

those words alone has geto shooting his load with a strangled grunt, switching to shallow, quick thrusts to pump you full of his cum. it comes out in hot, thick spurts, filling your insides more and more until it spills out the sides and you follow soon after, whole body convulsing from the intense orgasm you can’t stop shaking violently.

“take it— that’s it, attagirl,” he whines out, stroking his length to make sure you’re getting every last drop out of him, “take all my cum . .”

geto is sure he’s getting old by the way he feels lightheaded, having had to hold onto the edge of the table for a minute — but in that 60 seconds you’ve stumbled off the table and laid your chest over it, perking your ass up where your pussy continues to leak hot, white cum.

your professor takes one good look at your ass, hands going up to knead at them and spreads your cheeks. with his tongue, he eats his cum out of you, making your jerk at the sensitivity.

“oops, i’ve cleaned you up of my cum — guess i gotta give you a couple more loads,” geto props a leg up, eating you out, “it’s only right since my brightest student has suffered so much at my hands . .”

tagging @arminsumi @shidouryusm @suguruplsr @crysugu @slttygeto @suget @sonarspace @marimogf @hannzai &lt;3 ok gn

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 06)

Johnny texts you while he's deployed, but when he calls you one night, you are forced to face your consequences.

MDNI/18+

Link to AO3

OCTOBER, MONDAY MORNING, TWO WEEKS LATER

Your apartment was bathed in the cold gray light of a foggy morning, and you curled your duvet closer around you trying to stave off the dawn’s chill. You’d been awake for a while, which was very uncharacteristic of you. Usually more of a late riser, the only reason for your early bird behavior was Johnny MacTavish. 

He was three hours ahead of you, and every morning, when the sun came up in the Urzikstani hillside, you were sent an image of Johnny’s hand, clutching whatever his breakfast was that day. Sometimes it was a tin cup of black coffee, other times you’d get a banana or a protein bar. But, it was always his giant hand and a sherbet orange sky. This morning, it was cloudy and dark, and his breakfast of choice was a slab of toast, smeared with butter and jam. 

MoChroi: sunrise_sand.jpg

You: wow. quite the delicacy today. cant believe you found actual jam out there

Mo Chroi: bit suspicious. when the food gets better the missions get worse

You: uh oh

Mo Chroi: dinnae fash thief xx

Mo Chroi: writing today?

You: yep. and meeting with my prof

Mo Chroi: what ya got on then

Mo Chroi: give us a show bonnie

Mo Chroi: is it naughty?? lol

You: nope

You: rangers_tee.jpg

You sent a photo of your torso, cutting out your head, wearing his own tee shirt. His typing bubbles percolated along the bottom of the screen immediately. Then, an indignant response:

Mo Chroi: thief!! xx

You: youre the one who stole my hair tie

Mo Chroi: hairtie.jpg

Mo Chroi: needed a hostage

Mo Chroi: your bad habits are rubbin off. stole cap’s clothes out of the shower this morning

Mo Chroi: price_hat.jpg

You: you learn quick mo chroi

His typing bubbles appeared, and then they disappeared. You watched them pop up in the chat and then vanish three more times until finally all you got was silence. This was a common occurrence, so you tried not to overthink it. Over the past two weeks of texting with him, you knew he disappeared sometimes. He’d get a call to go into the field, or there would be some crisis. You wondered if his captain had discovered his prank. 

The room was still cold, and you were reluctant to leave your cocoon of warmth, but you needed to write. You had promised yourself that you’d go into the office early today before your meeting with your major professor. After a deep sigh and some very challenging mental gymnastics, you stuck a leg out and onto the frigid concrete floor.

Your apartment was very modern. So modern, in fact, that it had been a challenge to make it feel homey. There was very little room inside for anything more than a queen bed, a short futon, and your desk. Your bathroom was sleek and full of brutalist, functional, concrete stylings, but the kitchen was barely big enough for a sink and a toaster oven. You had kept the futon for guests, not that you had many (any) visitors, but aside from the stacks of books in the corners of each room, your entire studio was practical to a fault. 

But, it was enough for you and your rescue cat, Marlowe, so you didn’t complain.

On the wall opposite the front door, a huge plexiglass window overlooked the River Kelvin, conveniently situated right across from some student housing so you could access the bus. Not having a car went against your Floridian roots, but you’d fallen in love with the ease of public transportation. 

After throwing on an oversized sweater and a pair of fleece-lined leggings, you slipped on your wellies and headed to the bus stop. You’d brought a big thermos of coffee, ready to face the day. 

Your phone buzzed again.

Pidge: I’m so excited to see you this weekend!! :D

You: me too! is hammie picking me up after all or no

Pidge: Yes, I told him to be at the platform at 4.

You: cool 

Pidge: Have you spoken with my brother?

You paused for a moment, riding the elevator and staring at your phone. You didn’t want to lie to her, but you probably shouldn’t tell her the truth. The truth was that you’d been texting her brother every day since he left for leave. You went with a half-truth instead:

You: yeah a few times why

She did not respond. You waited for the other shoe to drop like a blindfolded prisoner waits for their firing squad. The bus came to your stop, and you climbed on, sitting on the carpeted seat closest to the door, knowing your stop was only three away. 

When you got to your office, your phone buzzed again. You set your bag and your coffee down before you even looked at it, avoiding touching your cell as if it had thorns. 

You flipped over the screen.

Mo Chroi: make it to the office?

You: office.jpg

Mo Chroi: have a good day today thief

Mo Chroi: helicopter1.jpg

Mo Chroi: going on a wee trip. afk xx

You: promise xx

Mo Chroi: promise xx

Promise. Promise. It was you and Johnny’s little code. You hadn’t liked hearing about his “little trips” in the beginning, especially after he had shown you a photo of his truck, riddled with bullet holes. You used to say “good luck”, but you didn’t like that sound of that. You hoped luck had nothing to do with it. So, you just asked him to promise to text you back or to promise to be safe. And he always replied that he promised he would. Now, it had shortened to your one-word ritual. You always said it and he always said it back. 

Another buzz:

Pidge: No reason. He has my phone charge the little nugget.

You: omg lol 

You were not laughing out loud. If anything, you were sighing in relief. 

It took most of the morning, but you fell into a routine. You had your meeting, came back, and wrote some more. Lunch was a pre-packaged lunch box from the student center and a refill on your coffee. You missed dinner. The sun set on you as you finished a critical section of your thesis, looking it over for flow and mistakes. 

Worn out, and finally feeling hungry again, you checked your phone on your way back to the bus stop. No new messages. You waited for the bus, flipping through his photos again as if you would have forgotten them from when you looked at them from last night. Or the night before last. 

You stopped looking at them, challenging yourself to have a non-Johnny thought in your head for once.

Maybe you would make a ramen with eggs in it tonight. 

Maybe he’ll text you back. 

You could watch another episode of that K-drama you liked. 

Maybe he’ll send you a picture of him shirtless.

You could go for a run.

Maybe he will run his tongue back over your —

The bus came. You blocked out your thoughts from your mind, desperate to regain some semblance of control. 

THURSDAY NIGHT

It had been three days, and you still hadn’t heard from him. You tried not to think about all of the terrible reasons why that might be the case. But, you did. You thought about them all the time. Every time you checked your phone or read an email or scrolled through your feeds; it was the only thing you thought about. 

You had his shirt on again, eating leftover Chinese on your futon. You were thinking about all of the things you needed to take care of before tomorrow. It was Pidge’s bridal shower weekend and you were trying to wrangle all the final touches together. You’d rented out Ettrick’s, at Pidge’s request, and you had sent the invites two weeks ago. Almost everyone had RSVP’d yes, so you were looking at nearly 45 people to host. The custom bridal cookies were set for pick up when Hamish took you into town tomorrow afternoon, and the champagne was paid for. And you were dreading it. 

You were excited to be there for Brigette. She had always been there for you. When you first moved to Scotland, you were well and truly alone. But, she met you for lunch almost every day after class, claiming to need her caffeine fix. But, as time went on, you realized she wanted to be friends. Having no one and being in a new country was so tough, but she had made it feel so easy. So, even though you hated the prim and proper social situation of a shower, you resolved to tough it out. 

You put the half-eaten Chinese back in the fridge and climbed into bed. Your phone buzzed as you went to put it on the charger.

Mo Chroi: you up?

Your heart stopped for a moment, making your breath hitch in your chest. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to open his message.

Mo Chroi: camels.jpg

You: omg! are those REAL

You: shes not a camel but ill trade you one critter pic for a Marlowe pic

You: marlowethecat.jpg

Mo Chroi: her cheeks are brilliant lol so big

You: so your mission went okay?

Mo Chroi: lol yeah. and we got the guy who owned the camels to take a cool pic of us. can you tell which one’s me?

Mo Chroi: group_pic.jpg

You: gotta be number 3

Mo Chroi: how’d you know

You: your wide shoulders. and you always stand like that

Mo Chroi: like my shoulders do you

You: yep 

You: you should send me a selfie

There was a long pause. You were a little afraid that you’d overstepped a boundary. Sure, his long, hungry tongue had been buried between your legs three weeks ago, eating you like he was starving, but people were cagey about their online privacy. You backtracked:

You: if you want to. nbd if not

Mo Chroi: selfie.jpg

You checked the image, and your heart sank like a stone. Johnny wore a green and yellow bruise over his eye, and his head had been shaved.

You: you okay? bruise looks nasty

Mo Chroi: you should see the other lad

You: and they shaved you?

Mo Chroi: got a nasty wee cut on the back of my head and doc sheared me like a damn sheep

He sent you a series of frowny faces and sheep emojis, and you felt a wave of calm settle in your chest. The latent fear was still there, and would be until you saw him again, but it was good to know he was alright. 

FRIDAY MORNING

You were back on the bus, toting around your overnight bag, planning on heading to the train straight after your colloquium lecture this afternoon. Your phone had been beeping at you all morning. Johnny was begging for you to record your talk, asking you to let him sit in on your “class”. 

You: johnny its not a class! its just a lecture. we have to give them every now and then to show what we’ve been doing with our research. its not fun. you’d be bored.

Mo Chroi: meirleach! i dinnae care how fun it is. let me see!!

You: campus.jpg

You: look. its all stuffy and campusy. you wouldnt like it

Mo Chroi: youre breaking my heart lass xx

You smiled. He was so bright, and he made you feel like you were so very special. It was no wonder he was such a danger to single women everywhere. Your confidence was soaring.

When you made it to your office, you sent him another picture of your current work. You were writing a short paper on German poems, not really related to your thesis, for a conference coming up in the spring.

You: look. you dont even speak german! it would be like torture

You: german_poem.jpg   

Mo Chroi: so cool. im beggin you. let me watch you. i won’t say a word. 

You: maybe if you come back a little early from leave next time, you can sneak into one

Mo Chroi: if i survive this training, i will. 

Mo Chroi: thinking about seeing you up there teaching. got me all turned on

You sent him an emoji with a shocked look on its face, feigning coy shyness. He was relentless.

Mo Chroi: think youd let me be teachers pet?

You: more like class clown

Mo Chroi: you did seem fond of all of my tricks. wanna see what else i can do?

You: lecture_hall.jpg

You: i have to prep for this talk. keep your naughty thoughts to yourself soldier

Mo Chroi: yes maam 

Mo Chroi: wait!

You: what

Mo Chroi: before you go. what color knickers are you in

Mo Chroi: just trying to imagine your lecture 

Mo Chroi: with accuracy

Mo Chroi: cmon lass. for extra credit

You smiled down at your phone again, knowing your answer was going to win this little back and forth game he was playing.

You: im not wearing any this morning. gonna do my washing at your place.

Mo Chroi: jesus mary and joseph

You: and all the saints?

Mo Chroi: every one of them xx

Your lecture went off without a hitch. You earned yourself a few crowd questions and a round of polite applause. Stopping back by your office on the way out, you grabbed your laptop and headed for the bus stop. You’d forgotten your phone was on silent, and it wasn’t until you made it to the train station that you realized it. Two missed calls from Pidge and three texts from her brother.

You checked the texts as you returned her call, unable to hold yourself back from seeing what he wrote to you.

She answered quickly,

“Hey! Are you on your way?”

“Yep,” you replied, “I’ll be there around three forty-five, I think.”

“Okay, perfect. I just wanted to tell you that we’re adding two more to the list. Anjali invited Steph and Tiff. Is that alright, babes?”

You tried not to groan directly into the mouthpiece,

“Yes! The more the merrier.”

What were you going to do about the seating chart? You’d figure it out later. 

“Fantastic! You’re amazing, hen. You know that?”

“Anything for you, bestie.”

She kissed you over the phone and hung up. You let out that sigh you’d been holding. As much as you loved her, you were ready for your friend’s wedding to be over with..

You checked the messages from Johnny, looking to escape from your thoughts again. He was the perfect distraction.

Mo Chroi: oh fuck no

Mo Chroi: its dog day for training

Mo Chroi: army_dog.jpg

You: you dont like dogs?

Mo Chroi: not these

Mo Chroi: had a bad time with attack dogs in russia a few tours back

The train arrived and you got settled. You weren’t sure how to respond. It was back again, that funny feeling in your chest about him being in constant danger. You didn’t know how to handle it. It wasn’t like you could ask him to stop. That was his job, and he was one of the best. He’d been enlisted on this elite task force, and even though you barely understood what that meant, you knew it was special. What right did you have to stand in the way of his greatness? The world needed Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, and you were just a distraction. 

You waited for him to text again, a distraction for you and you for him. A two-way street. That’s all it was, right? How could it be anything more? 

You thought about his sister. She’d been so painfully clear about her boundaries. You imagined telling her you liked him, telling her you wanted to date him. She’d explode. There’d be Scottish yelling, and Scottish fighting, and Scottish siblings rowing at each other all over the house. You couldn’t do that to her, especially not now. So, you just went back to distracting him.

You: did you get bitten?

Mo Chroi: yeah, right on the belly. those bastards. can you see it 

Mo Chroi: shirtless.jpg

You gasped audibly, hoping no one had heard you on the train. You’d already seen him naked, but having a picture of his bare, muscled torso on your phone was another thing entirely. You glanced around, checking behind you and clutching your screen to your chest, holding it to you shamefully, praying no one saw it. 

You typed a message, then deleted it. You tried again, and then deleted it. You knew he could see your text bubbles popping up, and it embarrassed you to no end. Eventually, you decided to just be honest.

You: youre so damn hot

The wait was going to kill you. Seconds became minutes, which became hours, which became eons. You stared at the bottom of your message like it would disappear if you looked away. You opened the picture of his bare torso again, unable to stop yourself from indulging in his huge body. You knew how those muscles felt, and you wanted to feel them again.

He didn’t respond. Your heart sank like a rock. You felt the train screech to a halt at the station, and it took everything in you to pocket your phone and leave the car.

You marched down to meet Hamish, trying to control the look on your face. 

“Hey! Over here!” he called to you from the carpark.

You saw his smiling face and tried to match his energy,

“Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“You bet,” he said as he took your bags. 

“Can we stop by the bakery around the corner? They’ve got all the cookies and pastries we ordered for tomorrow.”

“Of course, lass. No problem. Hop in.”

Hamish drove you around, the perfect gentleman, carrying box after box of dessert for his fiance’s shower, storing them carefully in the boot of the car. 

“Wow, these smell incredible, don’t they,” he crooned, “Wish I could crash your wee party.”

“No boys allowed,” you said wryly, smiling at him, eliciting a genuine laugh.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence. He talked a little about his research, and you shared a bit about yours, mentioning your latest lecture. Otherwise, you checked your phone constantly. 

Then, just as you pulled into the driveway of the MacTavish house, you got a text.

Unknown: Hello this is Captain John Price. Sergeant MacTavish’s phone is dead, and he is making me text you the word: promise. 

You: oh thank you. can you tell him promise back?

Captain: Roger

Your stomach twisted for a different reason now. He wasn’t upset with you, which was a relief, but he had just shipped out on another mission. It was so sudden, it seemed like an emergency. You saved the captain’s number in your phone, just in case. 

After hugging Pidge and helping Hamish with the boxes, you unpacked your bags and started the laundry. You met Pidge in the living room, watching her put the finishing touches on some gift bags.

“These are cute,” you commented, feeling the soft ripple of the ribbons tied around the bags in your fingers. 

“Thanks,” she said as she fixed one of the bows, “Hope I made enough.” 

“They’ll live,” you smiled. 

“Hey, did you hear from Johnny again?”

“Uh…no, why?” You panicked.

“He said he doesn’t have my charger but now that muppet is not answerin’ me. Gonna pop him when he’s down for Christmas, I swear.”

“He’s coming back for the holidays?” You asked, a little too enthusiastically. 

Pidge cut her eyes up at you briefly, responding in a measured voice,

“Yeah, just a week. Why?”

You wracked your brain for a reason, pretending to look at the calendar on your phone. Finally, you said,

“Think he’d drive me up from Glasgow? The train is awful at Christmas.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “God, he’s so irresponsible, babes. Not sure I trust him to get you here on time. But, I’ll threaten him. He’ll do it for me. He’s been so accommodating lately. Johnny boy is like a new man.”

“Oh, really?” You weren’t sure where this conversation was going, but you pried anyway.

“Did you know he paid for the rehearsal dinner? The whole damn thing! Having it at the wee distillery and everything. Right proper party we’ll be havin’. Cannae believe it.”

The Auchentoshan Distillery was Old Kilpatrick’s pride and joy. He’d spent a pretty penny if he’d booked it out for her.

“He loves you,” you confessed softly.  

“He tries to,” she said a little bitterly.

You watched her pack up the bags, and you began to wonder about their relationship with each other. It was clear to you that there was some immovable object that was being pressed upon by some unstoppable force. They were at a quiet, bubbling impasse, ready to boil over at any moment. Yes, they loved each other. But, Johnny and Pidge had diverged somewhere, and it was a rift that needed to be mended. 

The washer buzzed. You went to move over the clothes. 

“I’m heading over to grab the girls. Wanna come?” Pidge asked you, her keys in hand. 

“No room,” you observed, realizing they wouldn’t all fit in the car.

“Ugh, guess you’re right, hen. No worry, we’ll be right back. I’m excited to have a girls’ night.”

“Me, too,” you lied. 

Well, it was a half-lie. You didn’t mind a girls’ night. It was more the fact that you’d have to hide your phone from view as you waited for Johnny to report he was back safe and sound. 

After Pidge left, you crawled into his sheets. The memories of you and your soldier came flooding back again, but this time they swirled together with all of the complexities that you were facing. The simplicity of that brief night you shared had become warped by reality, and you realized you needed to come to terms with your emotions before you got hurt. 

FRIDAY EVENING

Your phone buzzed in your hand, waking you. It was warm from being on the charger and covered up by your body. You hoped that didn’t break anything. Sleep had taken you over like a surging wave. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from your week. 

Unknown: heyyyyy this is soaps mate kyle. he wanted to let you know we’re back. 

You: thanks for letting me know

Kyle: you bet

You were kicking yourself. You should have asked if he was okay. Just when you were about to ask Kyle to check on him, you heard the keys jingle in the door. Swinging your feet to the wooden floor, you got out of bed and met the gaggle of ladies in the foyer.

Cheek kisses, bright hellos and how-are-yous filled the once-quiet house, and you pocketed your phone, trying to distance yourself from the pang of concern. 

You tried to keep up with the fast-paced conversation, but you weren’t the social butterfly that Pidge was. Anjali, Bekah, and Cherise were all gushing about their own lives, and you had very little to share. They were polite enough, asking you about your studies and pretending to care when you answered them.

“Oh, cool,” Cherise said, sipping on wine out of one of Pidge’s nicer glasses, “Poems are cool.”

“Yeah, I was Juliet in that one play,” Bekah said, proudly. 

“And she’ll never let us forget it either,” Anjali rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.

They were quick to forget you again, turning back to their recent Tinder date disasters and successes. 

“And this bloke - the one with the beard thing - he ask me and this other girl to the same restaurant, on the same night! I thought she was gonna kill him right there in front of the maître de!” Anjali lamented.

Cherise smiled like a Cheshire cat, 

“Lachlan is taking me on his boat next weekend.”

“We know! Shut up about the boat, you slag,” Bekah clipped. 

Cherise shot back quickly, 

“You’re just mad ‘cause Soap hasn’t texted you today.”

You gave the girls your full attention now. You darted your eyes to Pidge who rolled them, but looked otherwise unbothered. Bekah turned her phone around and you saw the image she was eager to display,

“He’s on bloody thin ice. I asked for a pic of him in his uniform, and all he sent me was a picture of some nasty sand!”

Your chest clenched tight enough that you couldnt breathe. It was your picture. Your morning photo from a few days ago. He was holding his breakfast, outstretched, and you could even see your hair tie on his wrist, the rolling dunes of the desert stretching out before him into infinity. 

“Men, am I right?” Anjali finished her wine. 

Maybe she was right. 

SATURDAY MORNING

You’d slept beside Anjali that night, sharing the bed willingly but not enthusiastically. She had snored through most of it, and you’d barely gotten any sleep. It wasn’t just her snoring that kept you up. In fact, you were using her as a scapegoat. You had been thinking about Johnny. 

It was like you were having a war in your mind. On one hand, it was just a picture of some sand, but on the other, you had no idea how many texts they had shared before or after that. Your heart broke easily, shattering melodramatically, whining about how you weren’t special and that if you didnt control yourself, you’d be sorry for it. He was just a playboy, just like everyone said.

Your brain, however, begged you to see reason. He sent her a picture of sand, not his naked torso, and he had forced his teammates to text you your passcode when he went on his mission. Surely that was enough proof that he cared about you and not Bekah.

It wasn’t enough, said the heart. 

It has to be enough, said the head. 

It shouldn’t even be happening, said the soul. 

You watched the sun peek through the blinds just as they had when you’d been wrapped in Johnny’s arms, naked and warm against his pink skin. 

You sighed and got up to shower. 

The party was at two, so you had plenty of time. You made it over to Ettrick’s early to help set up, walking alone since you knew the others would be in heels and wouldn’t all fit in the car. You’d brought flats, sensible but stylish, and a comfortable, albeit sparkly, maxi dress. You felt like shit. Sleep would have been nice, you thought. 

Hamish had delivered all of the boxes for you this morning, and the wait staff at Ettrick’s was setting it out for you. You rearranged it as artfully as you could, and you were just about finished when your phone buzzed.

Mo Chroi: phone’s alive! sorry i disappeared on you thief. forgive me?

You: glad youre ok

You: party starts soon

You: cookies.jpg

You: dessert_table.jpg

Mo Chroi: wow! did you do all that? pigeon is gonna be chuffed

Mo Chroi: heading out to the next spot

Mo Chroi: helicopter2.jpg

You: want me to tell Bekah hi? she was waiting on you to text her back last night

Mo Chroi: ?? no 

Mo Chroi: why 

Mo Chroi: what did she say

Mo Chroi: thief? 

You: just that she was hoping you would text her back. idk

You thought about it for a little while before sending a final text.

You: i think she wanted more than just a sunrise. 

SATURDAY NIGHT

You had three missed calls from Johnny, but you were too busy trying to deal with gift unwrapping, keeping the peace at the over-crowded tables, and rushing out appetizer trays when the wait staff became too overwhelmed. It was chilly tonight, but you were sweating under your long dress. 

You thought about what you’d said to Johnny, and you were mad at yourself for trying to get a rise out of him. You didn’t want to be the one playing games, and you needed to curb your jealousy. He was allowed to text whoever he wanted, just like you were.

You: sorry. cant pick up. busy with your sister

You: champagne.jpg

Mo Chroi: answer my calls thief

Mo Chroi: i have to drive the rig but im calling you as soon as we get to our site

Mo Chroi: trucks.jpg

Mo Chroi: at least tell me when you get back. promise

You: promise

SUNDAY, 0200

You: i made it back to my apartment. hamish drove me. train was down for maintenance.

You: marlowe-in-a-bag.jpg

You: marlowe is mad that i was gone

Mo Chroi: im glad youre alright.

Mo Chroi: gaz took this at our training today

Mo Chroi: group_pic2.jpg

You: yall look tough

You: whos the one in the middle

Mo Chroi: thats the captain and ghost has the dog

Mo Chroi: go to bed thief. its late 

Mo Chroi: sunrise2.jpg

Mo Chroi: can i call you later? its important

You: ok

SUNDAY, NOON

You woke to the sound of rain. A loud peal of thunder pulled you from the darkness of your sleep. You would have stayed with Pidge, but you just couldn’t face his bed again. Hamish was happy to be your chauffeur, even after you learned that the train was out of service. You tried to buy him some gas, but he adamantly refused. 

A headache stung behind your eyes, drilling into you, punishing you for the champagne. You hadn’t been drunk, but it had been sweet, and now you were paying the price for your sugar rush. You checked your phone.

Pidge: hHad such a great night!!. Thanku for everytingf i lov youuuu!!

Pidge: omg Anji just boked inthe sink

You didn’t reply. She was probably still asleep, along with the rest of the household. There was nothing from Johnny, yet. It wasn’t unusual. He was busy with terrorism, you figured. He would text you if he wanted to text you. 

Digging in your freezer, you found some leftover soup and put it on to reheat. Your phone rang.

The selfie of you and Johnny at Glencoe flashed onto your screen. You let it ring again before you picked up.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

“You still asleep, thief. I’m sorry to wake you,” he didn’t sound sorry. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Just making some soup. Rainy here. Cold.”

You: rainy_window.jpg

He groaned, and you could hear the creak of a mattress in the background,

“Mm. Spent the whole day on my belly doing target practice. I miss home.”

Mo Chroi: sniperpractice.jpg

“Yeah? Looks sandy and hot. Too bad there’s no beach,” you stirred the soup.

“I miss you, mo mèirleach.”

You stopped stirring the soup. 

“I miss you, too.”

“Do you? Or are you cross about my texting Beks?”

“Both,” you went back to stirring the soup.

“Sent it to Hamish, too. You cross about tha’?”

You sent back silence. 

“And if I told you Bekah’s an old friend from grammar school, and that’s all she’ll ever be, would you believe me, lass?”

Silence was all you had to give, apparently. Finally, you poured the soup into a big bowl and set it down on your coffee table, shoving your papers and books aside, and said, 

“This soup looks amazing. Wanna see it?”

You: soup.jpg

“Thief. She’s just a friend.”

“I think there’s a song about this actually…”

“I think I’m fallin’ for you, and I need to know if you’re fallin’ for me, too.”

The bite of soup you were about to take hovered in your spoon, frozen in time. You could hear him breathing in your ear, waiting on your response. You could feel your heart shudder in your chest. 

“Johnny. We can’t…”

“Don’t. Don’t start with tha’ mess, thief. Tell me you aren’t fallin’ for me, and I’ll stop. No more texts. I’ll leave it alone.”

“She’ll never forgive me, Johnny. I don’t have anybody else, don’t you get that? I’m not even from here. I’m spending Christmas with her because I don’t have anywhere else to go. You have a whole town who loves you, and she’s your sister. She’ll forgive you in a heartbeat.”

“You have me, don’t you, thief?”

“Do I?”

It was his turn to push silence out through time and space, sending it up to the cellular satellites and mirroring it back down to you. Firing frustrated breathing noises across cables and wires and whatever other stupid fucking technology was happening to you right now. 

“Alright, lass.”

The phone beeped at you to inform you that the call had ended, but you kept it pinned on the shell of your ear, desperate for even a moment of that silence again. You regretted your honor the moment you’d held it up, and you were angry at yourself for keeping a promise you’d promised to keep. 

The phone clattered to the coffee table. The soup went cold. 

MONDAY MORNING

There was no sunrise text for you this time. Your phone didn’t have any notifications at all, in fact.  You made it all the way to the bus before you caved.

You: bus.jpg

You waited. Then, you waited some more. Nothing happened. You tried not to cry, and you failed. Luckily, the bus was empty, and the driver didn’t care about you enough to ask what was wrong.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

You: stuck in the library today. office is being cleaned.

You: library.jpg

Again, you were met with the cold emptiness of staring at your own responses at the bottom of your messages. You tried not to feel the sting of it, but you failed at that, too.

THURSDAY MORNING

You: giving a lecture today. kinda nervous about this one.

You: lectureroom2.jpg

You: hope youre okay

FRIDAY MORNING

Your phone buzzed three times, waking you up with a jolt. It was still dark outside. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to see the messages. 

Kyle: Hey this is Kyle, Soap’s mate. We’re heading back to the black site, so it’ll be a few weeks until you hear from him. 

Kyle: airplane_loading.jpg

You: thanks for telling me

Kyle: Soap asked me to tell you he promises??  I think thats what he said.

You: tell him i promise

You: and can you tell him that i made a mistake? he was right. about everything.

You: and im sorry.

Kyle: Will do!

You stared out of the window until the deep purples of night gave way to a cool pink morning glow, and you watched as the sun stretched its gentle arms up and over the river.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Chapter 07

[tommydarlings]

don’t leave me professor | c.s

pairing: prof!carlos x student!reader

warnings: smut, dacryphilia, chocking

w/c: 4.7k

summary: you got a bad grade on your Spanish exam, that's the reason why professor sainz called you in his office, right? (also based off of this audio)

masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3

“Hola clase!” Professor Sainz entered the class before he put his brown leather bag with a thud onto the wooden table. After putting his phone back into the pocket of his dark blue slacks, professor sainz looked around the class and caught your eyes for a quick second.

You would be lying if you would say that you wouldn’t found your Spanish professor attractive but you also knew that he was your teacher, not another student you could just easily fall in love with.

But you were also never really that much of a rule follower.

So you batted your lashes a bit there and there everytime he caught your gaze. And you knew that he knew what you were doing when you saw him shaking his head as if he would be telling himself a quick and unspeakable 'no'. It only made you grin a bit.

You may loved the Spanish teacher your class got but one thing that you absolutely hated about it was…well, Spanish.

You were a straight A student but Spanish was fucking you up a bit, you weren’t the worst in it but you could have been way better.

“Te voy a devolver tus exámenes ahora, ¡si tienes alguna pregunta, no dudes en preguntarme!” I’m gonna give you your exams now back, if you have any questions feel free to ask me! He stated loudly as he grabbed the sheets and started to hand them out to the impatient students which where already whispering among themselves about what grade they possibly got.

“I swear I fucked that shit up so bad, I barely knew anything I mainly guessed and hoped it made some fucking sense.” your friend, Louis, muttered quietly in your direction as professor sainz came closer to your table. You chuckled and looked at your friend before you glanced back to the teacher with a tiny smile, obviously agreeing with him because you for sure weren’t any better.

“Something funny mrs y/l/n?” Professor sainz asked you with a raised brow before he sorted your exam out of the other sheets.

You quickly shook your head before you looked up at him and answered,

“No sir.”

“Good, because there’s nothing to laugh about when I look at your grade.” He told you before he handed you your exam.

Ugh, can’t he just burn it right away.

That was the only thing in your mind as you saw the big fat C- on top of the sheet, the worst grade you got so far in Professor sainz's class.

You knew that it sounds absolutely ridiculous but you felt how your eyes slowly filled up with tears. After you quickly wiped you eyes, Louis tried to comfort you a bit with a squeeze on your shoulder and a tiny smile that was basically saying, 'hey, it’s okay'.

“Hands off.”

Professor sainz who was still standing infront of you ordered you with a deep and demanding voice before he sorted Louis's sheet out of the other ones and slammed it down onto the table with a loud slam. You quickly flinched a bit before he left and handed the other ones out, after that he went back to his table and set himself down onto his leather chair after he threw a quick glance at you.

You heard your friend sigh while you looked over at his sheet and saw the D on top of his exam. “Knew it.” He muttered before you grabbed your sheet and put it into your shoolbag.

Or that’s at least what you wanted to do.

Because only then you noticed that the questions, the grade and your answers weren’t the only thing written on your paper.

'Meet me in my office after class.'

was written messily in professor sainz's handwriting on the back of your exam. You swallowed and looked in his direction, noticing how he was already looking at you before he stood up again and grabbed a piece of chalk and went up to the board.

“Vale, empecemos con el español!” Okay, let’s get started with Spanish!

The professor clapped his hands loudly together as he looked quickly through the class and then started with writing down some grammar.

— — —

Your feet were carrying you quicker into the direction of Professor sainz's office than you hoped to be honest. You knocked on the brown wooden door as soon as you arrived and sighed quietly before you adjusted your skirt a bit. “Come in!” Was the only thing said by professor sainz before you opened the old door and entered his big office with an unsure facial expression, not entirely sure what he wants from you. You didn’t had any questions about your exam so you had no idea why he ordered you to meet him kn his office. But who were do to disobey a teacher.

“Professor sainz? Why did you wanna see me? Is it about my exam, I know that I fucked it-”

“No, no, no y/n, your exam wasn’t bad, I know that you can do way better than that but it wasn’t as bad as you maybe-”

“Why did you wanna see-”

“Would you let me finish my sentence.” Your professor groaned loudly while he was sitting with spreading legs in his chair, veiny hands gently placed onto his thighs.

You bit your lip and quick swallowed before you muttered a quick 'sorry'.

“What was that?” He asked you, pointing provokingly with his pointer finger towards his ear. “Speak up y/n, c'mon.”

“I'm sorry, sir.”

Your teacher nodded with his head before he wigged his pointer and middle finger in his direction. “Come here.”

You glanced at him as if you haven’t heard him right but you did, so you slowly made your way over to him, now standing infront of his still sitting figure while you were leaning against his desk. He was looking up at you with sprawled legs and a serious but also thinking kind of expression written on his perfectly sculptured face.

Professor sainz starred at your face which was hanging a bit so you could avoid eye contact with him, to embarrassed what he might have to say about your grade. He angled his head a bit forward and lower his chin a tiny bit so he could perfectly catch your eyes.

“Are you worried that I called you hear in my office because of your grade y/n?” He looked at you with raised brows as he put both of his palms on his thighs and slowly slide them down towards his knees, fingers only creeping immensely closer to your naked thighs in the process. You think that you were even able to see to catch him looking at his fingertips being all so close to your legs before he looked at you again.

You shyly nodded with your head as you slowly slid your hands down your own thighs until your and his fingertips were nearly touching each other, you were so close and you knew that he also knew it.

“Why else would you call me in your office sir?” You asked him innocently, completely seriously after you’ve noticed his finger stretching out a bit while yours were still laying flat on your thighs. He glanced down to his and than your hand before licked his lips and looked at you again, immediately searching eye contact.

“Punto justo.” Fair point

The Spaniard slowly nodded with his head while saying those words before he dragged his eyes down your figure. The skirt hugging your curves perfectly, the top putting your boobs in all the right places while the matching red lingerie was making it all perfect.

You slowly and with just a bit of confidence stretched your fingers out, inching like a snake very slowly towards his big hands which were still placed on top of his thick thighs, fingers also reaching out for yours, like you knew that if you would do it, your both dead, but you also knew that if you wouldn’t do it, you would regret it like hell.

Your hands were both getting gently swallowed by Professor sainz’s hands, fingers intertwined with each other like you were meant to be, your visibly smaller hand fitting perfectly into his visibly bigger hand.

He rose from his chair, slowly taking one step closer towards your tiny frame so you were basically squeezed between him and the wooden table. He leaned his body forward, your hands still being together intertwined while his thumb was rubbing slow circles on the back of your hands. Your hand now pressed against the table while his hands were pressing into your yours, also placed on his table, his nose gently touching your forehead as he bowed down a bit so he could look at your standing figure.

“Is everything-”

“Per favore.” please

You muttered, only then did your teacher notice the way you looked so unbelievably pleading up at him, starring with hope and something else in your eyes.

Sadness.

It was like you were pleading him to do whatever he wants to you but also like you were asking him for something else. Something that he wasn’t sure of.

He carefully removed his palms from your intertwined ones and positioned them gently on your cheeks, thumb caressing them.

Professor sainz leaned his body forward once again and placed a lovingly long lasting kiss on your forehead with closed eyes while you put your palms on top of his.

“gracias.” You quickly whispered as you took a deep breath and wrapped both of your hands around his one thumb so your were only holding onto his thumb before he retreated his hands and you also let go of his thumb, instead now wrapping your palms around his pointer finger, Carlos quickly glancing down to see were the two of you were connected before you also glanced down, actually being taken by suprise as you saw how big his hands were, especially compared to yours.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head as professor sainz asked you the question while his hands wandered down to your hips, fingers gently squeezing them before he turned your body around, your back now touching his chest very delicately. He hummed before he brushed your hair away from your shoulders and placed his chin on the right shoulder.

“How can I help you hermosa?”

“Just, take my mind off of things.”

You felt like professor sainz was speechless for a second, maybe confused or even overwhelmed with your information but he also felt like he’s the only one who could help you.

He gently turned his head to the side, his beard scratching against your neck, hair brushing your forehead while his lips gently ran over your throat, closer than never to kissing you until your melting. “Professor, p-per favor.” You begged him as you threw your head slightly back, slowly laying your head down onto his broad shoulder covered in the white dress shirt.

The Spanish teacher grazed his lips ever so gently on your ear before he whispered in his Spanish accent,

“Don’t worry cariño, Voy a cuidarte bien.” I’m gonna take good care of you

That was the last thing he said before he started kissing his way down your neck, fingertips delicately running down the sides of your shivering body, goosebumps rising on your arms as his fingers opened the zipper on the side of your skirt. You whined loudly as he changed the side of your neck and kissed the left side of it, hands now pulling down your skirt, letting it fall down onto the floor.

You quickly raised your hands and opened the buttons of your white blouse before discarding it somewhere in his office.

“Gosh, your so beautiful.” Were the first words that left Professor sainz’s mouth which was still sliding along your neck, slowly kissing and biting and even licking there and there the left side of your neck. Moaning and groaning into your skin before he placed his veiny hands on your hips again and turned your body around, now facing him.

You looked down, seeing how his bulge was very visible through his dark blue slacks but also seeing how hard his fingers were gripping the flesh of your hips, almost like he was scared that your gonna let go and run away.

You still had your eyes gazing down as his hands made their way around your hips, to your back and in end up to your bra clasps, two fingers already going around the tiny clasp.

You had the feeling that he was almost to shy to ask you if you were okay with it, so raised his other hand and tilted your head up in his direction with his pointer finger on your chin. Your head now being angled up higher so you were able to look into his now almost black eyes. You could be lying but you were pretty sure that his eyes were full of desire and maybe also something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

He raised his brows a bit while the fingers of his hand on your back were gently caressing your skin, slowly moving up and down your spine while he waited for your approval. You nodded and the Spaniard immediately raised his fingers and opened your bra with two of his fingers.

Your own hands made their way to his button up shirt and quickly started opening it, pulling it down and letting it drop down next to your skirt. Right after that, mr. sainz opened the zipper of his slacks and also pulled them down a bit to free his rock hard member. You had to bite your lip to hold the loud moan back from escaping your mouth.

After pumping his dick for a couple of times and admiring your body like you were a fallen angel, he positing his hands on the back of your naked thighs and hosted you up on his desk, quickly removing all the things placed on his work table by wiping them off of it with one of his hands. You gasped as all the different kind of pencils and books dropped with a pretty loud thud on the hard floor but you also immediately closed your mouth as professor sainz went down on his knees infront of your sitting figure. His hands gently going up and down your thighs before his mouth got closer and closer to the string of your thong.

And let me tell you that you could have started screaming (and creaming-) when his teeth closed around your string and pulled it slowly down your legs, the feeling of his black beard scratching against your thighs being almost to much. He even held eye contact with you while he did it, his fluffy dark hair briefly brushing over your abdomen and now bare pussy. He entirely removed the thong now and stuffed him in his back pocket of his slacks before he spoke up again,

“Abre las piernas para mí.” Open your legs for me. And that was the moment you realised why exactly you got the C- on your exam, because you couldn’t understand a single thing that he just asked you.

Professor sainz looked at you with raised brows and it didn’t needed somebody hella smart to understand that he was a tiny bit angry at you for not understanding him. “Abre. las. piernas. para. mí.” He repeated slowly with a more demanding kind of tone in his voice.

You licked your lips before you looked down in embarrassment, seriously not understanding a single thing apart from 'for me'. “C'mon princessa, we’ve already learnt that.” Your professor muttered as he looked at your face, leaning his head down towards yours once again. “Lo siento professor.” I’m sorry professor you whispered in disappointment before you noticed how mr. sainz was putting his hands between your legs, slowly gliding up and down your almost closed thighs before he looked at you again and waited for an answer, hopefully the right one now.

“para mí means for me.”

“Perfect, that's right, now what will the other part of the sentence mean when my hands are so close to your legs baby.” He looked at you with his big dark eyes.

You didn’t even say anything, you just took a wild guess and opened your legs so he had the perfect access to your wet pussy begging for his finger, mouth, tongue, anything. And you had to bite back a tiny smile when he nodded with his head and smiled before he held your thighs back with his hands and quickly closed his mouth around your throbbing clit.

He flicked his tongue a couple of times up and down and shook his head from side to side with a groan before he looked up at your moaning and whining figure, begging him to never stop.

The Spanish teacher groaned and moaned into your cunt, your clit throbbing in the process like crazy. One of your hands suddenly had the urge to let go of the wooden table that was now empty and grab his soft hair, tugging on it every time his tongue grazed your clit so gently but so quickly.

“Sabe tan jodidamente bien, princesa.” Tastes so fucking good he mumbled briefly right before he went back to eating you out like you’ve only dreamed so far. You quickly whined and cried his name out while your hand was still tangled in his hair, slowly brushing it back so he wouldn’t have them in his way while pleasing you.

“I'm gonna cum professor!” You moaned pretty loud as your legs began to shake around his moving head. He quickly removed his head and spoke up,

“Cum for me cariño.” before he detached his mouth back to your pleading pussy and brought you to the edge. You screamed before your shaking hand came up and covered your own mouth, desperately trying to muffle your moans.

But your professor wasn’t so fond of that, mr. sainz looked up as he noticed how your noises got suddenly quieter and immediately ripped your hand away from your mouth. He held it strongly down onto the table so you couldn’t move it anywhere anymore.

“Don’t, I want the whole school to hear you screaming my name.”

You really tried to hold every single moan and pleading back but you just couldn’t, especially not after the Spaniard man stood up and wrapped one of his hands around your throat, his other one slowly making its way down from your chest to your abdomen and in the end to your drenched pussy. You didn’t even realise that his fingers were nearing your pussy because you were still pretty much busy trying to catch your breath after him eating you out like a hungry lion.

But you definitely realised it as soon as his fingers entered you, slowly entering you but quickly getting to work then and stretching you out.

“No, p-please.” You shrieked as soon as his fingers starting thrusting in and out of you at such a torturous pace, fingertips brushing over that specific spot now and then so perfectly. You shook your head before you looked up at mr. sainz and noticed how he was completely focused on the way how his big fingers were gliding in and out of your drenched pussy, probably not even listening to your begging.

But then his hand around your throat gave you a squeeze and after that, professor sainz looked up at your blurry eyes.

“Shh, just take it cariño, just take it.” He whispered before he leaned in and kissed your cheek, lips brushing gently over your skin right after that before he spoke up again,

“Your gonna cum? I can feel it cariño.” He muttered as he looked in your eyes, fingers now leaving your desperate pussy and going straight up to your clit, moving it in the perfect circles making your legs and hands shake even stronger than before.

You were only able to nod with your head as your eyes closed and the feeling of letting go took over your entire body.

Professor sainz let go of your throat and grabbed the back of your neck with his hand before he pulled your head in the crock of his neck, fingers still not leaving your pussy.

You moaned and whined his name into his shoulder, shaking hands trying desperately to grab his shoulders before your moaning got so loud that you had to bite on his shoulder, leaving a pretty visible mark afterwards but he didn’t care one bit about it, he wanted to properly fuck you now.

So that’s how you ended up calming down a bit, with his hands brushing your hair out of your face and gently kissing the tears from your cheeks away before he pushed your shoulders back so you were now laying on the table. His hand going down towards his member, slowly pumping it with a pleasuring moan before he slid his dick along your dripping pussy. He harshly grabbed your thighs and pulled them backwards so that your knees were nearly touching your ears.

You gazed up at him, completely teary-eyed and desperate while he grabbed your right leg and quickly gave your ankle a tiny kiss before he finally entered you. You immediately threw your head back and moaned as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, tears already escaping your eyes again before you squeezed them shut.

“Look at me hermosa.” He whispered after he threw his head back in pleasure, a loud groan leaving his lips as his hip movements increased and got faster second per second. “M-mierda.” shit you whispered while Professor sainz wiped one tear away from your cheeks before you felt your orgasm coming.

“Joder, me vas a volver loco, te lo juro.” Fucking hell, your gonna make me go crazy, i swear you do

The Spaniard groaned loudly with a moan before his head jerked a bit forward, also feeling his high approaching like a tsunami. “Y-your gonna make m-me cum cariño.” he stuttered heavily with an uneven breathing pattern. His hand suddenly sliding down from your thighs and being shakily placed onto the table, fingers scratching against the wood as he squeezed his eyes shut. His hips were ramming into your poor cunt with a very quick pace, a bit unsteady but still not slow.

“Don’t l-leave me.” You whispered in pure desperation with tears staining your eyes and cheeks, it was like you were sobbing but because of the best reason possible. Professor sainz quickly spared you a glance, he looked at you in a bit of confusion with a raised brow, trying to figure out what you mean by that. He wasn’t sure if you just said it because of the emotions you are currently feeling or because you wanna tell him something specific. Was that the reason why you looked at him earlier with sadness in your eyes? You didn’t only wanted to get fucked by him, you also want something else.

Your legs started to shake next to your head while his one hand was still gripping your thigh like he was holding onto it for dear life. You both moaned and whined at the same time as your orgasm washed over your bodies, another pair of tears running down your already wet cheeks as mr. sainz calmed himself down and removed himself from you. He quickly buttoned his pants back up and grabbed his dress shirt from the floor before he threw it on while you were slowly sitting up, gently balancing your still shaking figure on the table with a tiny groan as you looked around the room for your panties.

“Here.” Mr. sainz said quietly as he pulled your panties from his back pocket and handed them to you, you really tried to put them down but you felt like you could pass out any second and he noticed that, so he helped you.

“Wait, let me-” he didn’t even finish his sentence before he grabbed your panties from your shaking hands and kneeled down to slid them over your legs, gently adjusting them so your weren’t feeling any kind of discomfort. “thank you.” You quietly mumbled as he picked your skirt up and also helped you putting it on, after that he grabbed your blouse and helped you putting your arms through it before he buttoned it up, giving you a peck on your forehead afterwards.

Shortly after that, the Spanish teacher retreated himself from you, or at least wanted to.

“N-no.” You whined quietly as you fingers harshly clawed themselves onto his white button up shirt before you put your head on his hard chest, holding him tightly as fresh tears started to form in your eyes, but this time not from pleasure.

“What’s wrong princesa?” He asked you with confusion but also sadness written in his eyes, not quite being able to understand where this is suddenly coming from. Professor sainz brushed a few pieces of hair out of your face before he pulled your arms away from his arms. “N-no, please don’t-” “shh, it’s okay, I’m here cariño.” He told you quietly before he wrapped his arms around your body which was still sitting on his desk into his embrace and hugged you tightly, carefully putting his chin on top of your head.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked you as he placed his hand gently on the back of your head, his entire hand perfectly holding your head, fingers intertwining them automatically into the roots of your hair, not tugging on them, just gently placing them there. You shrugged and balanced your chin on his chest so you could perfectly look up at him, quickly trying to squeeze the tears away but he already noticed them anyway.

“Only if you want to of course.” He added as he rode up the sleeves of his clean white button up and wiped some of them away.

You muttered a quick 'gracias' before you started to explain it to him,

“I j-just never really had a male p-person in my life before that cared about me, let alone genuinely l-loved me, my own father left us as soon as he found out t-that he would get a daughter and not a son, he always w-wanted a son who would end up as a football player or some shit l-like that, he never believed in me, always told m-my mother that she shouldn’t b-be happy for giving birth to a women, somebody who’s g-gonna end up as a cheap street w-whore anyway, a useless slut or some stuff like that.” You quickly took a deep breath while he slowly started caressing your head before you continued,

“I never really had a boyfriend, at least not one that also loved me for my personality and not only my body, like okay thank you that I look pretty and that I’m hot but what about my smile? Or my laugh? Or my Humor? I actually really like my Humor but apparently boys don’t even know what Humor is nowadays.” This time you didn’t felt sadness saying all of that, you felt anger towards the entire male world except towards…him.

“And it’s just sad and a little bit depressing sometimes because all of my friends got a father who loves and cares about them and a boyfriend who would do anything for them and then there’s me, somebody who is even unable to get loved by her own father let alone from another man in general.” You stated angrily as you wiped the tears off of your cheeks, face now buried again deep in his chest while your arms hugged him tightly. Professor sainz didn’t say anything, he just held you just like you needed to be held at the moment.

“¿No soy suficiente?” Am I not enough? You asked him as you moved your head away and looked straight ahead into his beautiful eyes.

“Oh believe me cariño, Eres mucho más que suficiente.” You are so much more than enough. He ended the conversation with this sentence and a long lasting kiss on your lips, gently connecting your lips for the first time today before he picked you up and pressed you against the wall, not stopping kissing you until you would both run out of breath.

[the-converse-high-top]

Another Käärijä Research Project

aka: käärijä style-shifting project

as a preface, here are my (non) qualifications for this project and the circumstances under which it happened:

I am a linguistics student, and this past semester I took a course on sociolinguistics. the goal of this project was to become familiar with the concept of and analyze style-shifting (it's more commonly known as code-switching online but theres a difference and this is style-shifting), specifically by analyzing the speech of one person. We had the option to study oprah or to have someone else approved by my prof, so you know I had to ask my prof if I could study jere. This project is solely my intellectual property; even though I had a tutor help me a lot, everything written in this paper and on this post was my work alone.

now, on to the actual findings! the full paper and transcripts will be linked at the end :D

the actual variables (words or sounds) that I studied were the pronunciation of r, and use of the word "the".

to make things a lot easier from the get-go, i'm going to introduce you all to one of my favorite websites, ipachart.com (the international phonetic alphabet [ipa] chart is a big chart with an entry for every sound that exists in a language. this handy dandy website has an audio recording for each one of those sounds).

go to this website, and then scroll down to the table. go to the column labeled "post alveolar" and then click on ɾ and ɹ. those are the sounds i studied in this paper! ɾ is the finnish r and ɹ is the american r :)

so basically what i did to find instances of my variable was i just looked up a bunch of esc interviews and listened out for use of the different r sounds. i also transcribed the entire dinner date live because i love torture apparently :) the specific interviews and lives/stories are in the bibliography of the paper :p

after i transcribed all the interviews and lives/stories i went through and highlighted every instance of the r sound. then i calculated the ratios of ɾ to ɹ based on the context they were spoken in. the two contexts i looked for were formal contexts (sit-down interviews) and informal contexts (literally anything else).

i found that jere uses ɹ WAY more often in formal contexts than he does in informal contexts, and the same in reverse with ɾ.

i then went back to the transcripts and looked for all instances of the word "the". i also looked for instances where i thought it should be present, but was omitted. i calculated the ratio of present vs omitted "the"s in formal vs informal contexts and made some charts.

the graph with the smaller black section is "use of 'the' in formal settings" and the one with the smaller green section is "use of 'the' in informal settings" (the images are transparent, sorry)

i found that jere uses "the" WAY more often when in formal settings! there were also some instances where he added a "the" where it was unnecessary, which is studied at length in this wonderful paper by @alien-girl-21

something i also noticed that i elected not to study because this paper took enough energy on its own was that in formal contexts, whenever the "or" sound came in the middle or at the end of a word, jere wouldn't pronounce the r. it stuck out to me mostly because i heard words like "performance" turning into "perfomance", which i thought was an interesting quirk.

unfortunately i was somewhat limited by both my brainpower and capacity to do more work on this paper in the relatively short timeframe i was given (2 weeks) and the fact that i was given a 5 page MAX for this paper (not including a bibliography). i had a lot of fun doing this though and am definitely planning on studying jere for for academic credit again in the future if given the chance!

also i would like it to be known that i spent an hour searching for that 5 second clip of the urheilucast where jere said that he used to sell kitchens and understands english better than he can speak it.

link to a google drive folder with the actual paper i wrote and the transcripts of the interviews with notation:

please feel free to send me asks and dms with questions or comments about this paper! i absolutely love rambling about linguistics :3!!

[1ore]

Scuttling into ur askbox like a little beetle

i think i recall you reblogging/posting things about geography and culture + human effect on it - I vaguely recall a piece of art where it showed a blurred out, cropped piece of people fighting, and focused instead on the flora in the scene.

ANYWAY! getting back on track. seeing that piece inspired me to take a course this semester called "people and the land: cultural geography". and the whole reason I came to your askbox was to ask if you had any suggested reading materials? We'll get stuff in class ofc, but I am curious to see if there's any bias of materials on the prof's side vs someone else.

Phew that was a long ask. thank you o/!

That sounds like Liz Anna Kozik’s piece : D So happy it stuck with you! I love her work!!

As for your ask, what an awesome class! Land-human relationships are my bullshit, and I really enjoyed my own cultural geography class.

Thinking back on my schooling, I would say about 70% of my classes fell in with the “everything is awful and humans are the worst” narrative, and the other 30% made time for land-human relationships other than the extractive hellscape that most people currently live under. So, full disclosure, when I think of “bias,” that’s what I think of. You grow up in the miasma, it’s hard to imagine that there’s any other way of living. It’s also hard to say without knowing the professor, but I think, in general, it’s good to be mindful of who is or isn’t telling the story.

ANYWAY. All that in mind, here’s some articles about people-land relations that I think are neat:

The Environment and Society portal - I like their digital exhibits especially. I remember enjoying Oceans in Three Paradoxes and The Northwest Passage. Great place to wander around and pick a random article that catches your eye.

Of Deserts and Decolonization: Dispelling Myths About Drylands – obligatory desert propaganda. An article looking at how colonial mindsets about deserts disrupt existing relationships and hurt both people and land, and also how those attitudes shape environmentalism/conservation/etc. still today.

The Miracle of the Commons – lovingly challenging the Tragedy of the Commons with a creative solution to poaching and human-animal conflict in South Africa, Zimbabwe, and Namibia. Great article to sit in discomfort about (productively!)

Biodiversity: The Variety of Life that Sustains Our Own – Contains one of my go-to examples when explaining how humans can be good for land and biodiversity, the story of Quitobaquito Springs (and its sister spring Ki:towak, though the author doesn’t mention it here.)

The Environmental History Timeline - just fun to look at, especially the further you go back. It’s funny to spot where a young branch of history is trying *really hard* to reframe how academia thinks about the past, by bringing the invisible landscape forward:

2700 BCE —  Epic of Gilgamesh describes vast tracts of cedar forests in what is now southern Iraq. Gilgamesh defies the gods and cuts down the forest, and in return the gods say they will curse Sumeria with fire (or possibly drought). By 2100 BCE, soil erosion and salt buildup have devastated agriculture. One Sumerian wrote that the “earth turned white.” Civilization moved north to Babylonia and Assyria. Again, deforestation becomes a factor in the rise and subsequent fall of these civilizations. (Perlin, 1991). 2700 BC — Some of the first laws protecting the remaining forests are decreed in Ur, Messopotamia. (Grove, 1995).

^^^ fucking around and finding out forever and ever and ever.

[h3apm3ch4n151m]

Meeting their child in the future except you're afraid/hateful of children Or you don't wanna have children in general lmao

I just had this idea bc I've read those "When twst boys meet their children from the future" except I'm trying to insert myself but I'm the kind of person who would not like to puke children, I'd be shocked as hell when I meet my future children knowing damn well I hate them. Basically, me inserting how I'd react in a way that it's so angsty LMAOOO

Dorm: Octavinelle Character: Floyd This is might be part 1, just ask if ya'll want a 2nd and 3rd part for Azul or Jade lol

Fluff with angst, with a side of crackfic MY FIRST EVER ANGST YAY Warnings: If you feel sensitive about topics of family/abuse and stuff, pls read with caution. Also children menaces. "------" Means can be either mama or papa lmao

Shoes quietly walk towards the door of the VIP room in Mostro Lounge. That was where you'd usually meet them. A surprise was what you were about to give them, however, a surprise is also awaiting you.

Floyd's route

Once you enter the room, you were met with an Azul who is slowly going insane, a smiling Jade by his side, and two people running around, more like Floyd and a kid.

"Oh, they're here." Azul slams his head on the table, great. Jade just calmly smiles at you, waiting for things to unfold. The two stop running and look at you with a huge grin.

"AAAHHH!!!" The child lounges at you with a big smile that you think it will rip apart his face. It was about to hug you, but you quickly avoided it. However, the kid was persistent and kept chasing you to hug you. "----- Are we playing tag?" The kid giggles, as well as Floyd who is watching the both of you.

Your face was scrunched up into... disgust? Like you were seeing someone being murdered in front of you.

"Who is this kid? Why is he calling me like that?" You turn to Floyd first, then the two who are watching. You were jolted backward when something latched onto you. "I caught you ----!" The kid was playful.

"What the hell kid, get off me." You state coldly as you pushed the kid off of you without a second thought. The kid moves back, completely off guard by what you've done. The kid was quite shaken, moving back with his hands to his chest while he looks at you with teary eyes and trembling lips.

"Shrimpy, that's not nice!" You look at Floyd who was approaching you and the kid. "Why? Is that your cousin?" You look back at notice the boy's features. He had Floyd's hair color though something else doesn't add up... You squint your eyes, but nothing clicks.

Just what is the meaning of this? Floyd picks up the kid and walks to you. "This is Alex!" "Oh, ok- "Our child"

wgat Floyb what do you mena chilf

nithign seemed righr, everything wa wrong.

"What, Floyd, have you gone insane?" You laugh. It started as a normal laugh until it died down into a concerned one. "What do you mean..." You narrow your eyes at him and the kid.

"Well, this happened at Alchemy class, we made a portal, then this dude came out of it. Prof said he'll be gone naturally, cuz he doesn't exist in this timeline."

"So he's from the future..."

"Yup"

"Okay, as long as that kid stays away from me, I'm fine with it." "But you're the other parent!" "Then I don't wanna take responsibility for it." You cross your arms.

Floyd stares at you, then looks at Alex, who he's carrying.

"Do you wanna go to -----?" He smiles. "Yes please, papa!" The two looks at you with a smile. Except Floyd has ill intent and the kid is pure joy.

"Oh no. Oh NO, YOU DON'T." You quickly move back, to behind one of the couches. You hold the armrest of the sofa. Floyd and the kid are on the opposite side.

Azul and Jade look at you with interest. "Oh? What is this, not willing to hold your child?" Azul asks with a smirk. "AZUL SHUT UP RIGHT NOW." You stare at the kid, concentrating on getting out of here without the kid.

"Shrimpy, this could be much easier if you take Alex." "HEEL NAH." Without warning, Floyd lounges to chase you, but your senses warned you of impending danger, so you move away to the other side of the sofa, but Floyd quickly changed directions. Now he was gaining on you.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" "NOT UNTIL YOU TAKE ALEX, SHRIMPY." "AAAAAAAAHHH" You didn't know what was scarier, Floyd chasing you or a child about to hog all your time.

"BANANA 😭😭😭😭" Out of desperation you just said some random words.

It was until you tripped, that both of them stopped running. "Hehehe" Floyd places Alex on top of you.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

----------

Everybody seemed to stare at you with weirded-out faces, no, not because of the child you're holding and an eel following you. It was because of the unusual scowl on your face that you rarely had. Ace and Deuce who went passed you didn't even say anything. Not Ace who usually would say something teasing about this exact scenario. But nothing. Nobody would really save you now, huh.

It was lucky how it was free time. So you went outside to get some fresh air. You sit down on a bench, ignoring the two.

"-----, I want a hug!" The kid opened his arms towards you and leaned in closer.

"No." As the kid leans in, you move away. But the kid doesn't seem to listen to you and hugs you by your shoulder.

"I SAID NO!" You harshly push him to Floyd who was sitting next to the kid. The kid tumbles back to Floyd, who grabbed him just in time.

You were clearly annoyed at this bratty child. While the child was clearly hurt, seeing how he wanted a hug from his parent.

"Oh, stop whining! I never asked for hugs when I was a child!" That was it. That's how Floyd knew. That was why you hated children in the first place. It was because you were never a child in the first place.

The kid started sniffling and covers his face. Floyd picked up the kid and shushed him, it was a... rare sight to see this.

Until the kid wandered off somewhere, running away.

"He'll be fine," Floyd said and looks at you. But you only rolled your eyes. "So, care to explain what ya did?"

"What?"

"C'mon Shrimpy, is that why you never liked it when I hug you?" He teasingly smiled at you.

"..."

"Well, I dunno what happened to ya, but even I wouldn't do that" He laughs, leaning on the bench.

"Well, the kid was being noisy, I don't like it." You lean on the bench too.

"Were you close with your parents, shrimpy?" He suddenly asks.

"Well, no- but-"

"Oh, so that's why."

"Hah?!"

"The kid, ya threw him when he was asking for a hug." He looks at you, side-eyed.

"..." You couldn't say anything. You just realized that. All of the things that you did, were a reflection of how your parents treated you.

You put your knees near your chest and cover your face, muffling your voice. "What have I done."

You've been such a jerk to a kid who wanted affection from their parent. Then you remember why you didn't want kids. It was because you thought; that you might pass down the lack of love and affection.

"I've been a jerk."

"Yah, you kinda did."

"Well thanks anyways."

"What happened between you and ya parents anyways?"

"Well... Whenever I wanted affection from my parents, they'd always push me aside, if I wanted a hug, they'd tell me it was too hot. If I kept doing it again and again, they'd say that I was too old for hugs." You've realized how much you lacked it. A family's affection.

"This wasn-" Floyd hugs you from the side, but you didn't hear him move towards you. "This is what you needed the most."

Floyd's hugs were usually tight, but this one... this one was comfort. The comfort you needed as a child. Reassurance.

Floyd heard soft sniffles from you, but nevertheless, he never stopped.

"Let's go... find that kid." You perk up and gave him a closed-eyed smile, with tears on the side of your face.

[pardi-real]

Judgment by Fallen Angel / Chapter 12 - Encore

Prev | All

~ A while later ~

After the end of the show… I was congratulating the butlers in the empty theater, when the excited owner came in, smelling like boiled down perfume.

Owner: "Bravo! You did a great job, everyone! I just peeked into the theater's salon… and the audience still looks excited!"

Miyaji: "I see... Well, I had a rough idea of the response…"

Fennesz: "I-I guess that means... our play was well-received?"

Owner: "Fufufu... Well, if you want to know if it was well-received or not…  It's 'Mixed Reception!' There was a lot of criticism, especially from the noblemen in the box seats ♪"

Fennesz: "Huh… Is that so?

> "Despite clapping that much…"

Berrien: "About that… I'm sure that they were relieved to hear the ending… But the problem is the subject that we show in this play. From the perspective of those who originally feel distant with the devil butlers… Some of them may harbor an animosity towards us by the fact that we deal with such a subject."

Miyaji: "There are also some noblemen who come to see the show with the intention of criticizing it from the start… It is difficult to accept whatever they say, because they have always been critical of us."

Fennesz: "Hmmm... How sad, if that's the case. I guess what we wanted to convey… didn't get through to them…"

Owner: "Oh, my. That's not true, you know? I think you did capture the hearts of the general audience....

But above all, this is what I wanted! It's the one that destroys existing values… the cutting-edge art that provokes controversy!

I'm becoming more and more a fan of the devil butlers ♪ Especially you, Fennesz-sweetie…

How did you come up with that script? Is there some kind of source book? I'd like to talk to you alone, if you don't mind…"

Fennesz: "Huh...? Umm…"

Fennesz, who was grabbed by the owner, is asking for help with a puzzled expression.

However, the owner is a nobleman. It would be difficult for the butlers to simply reprimand him. As their lord, I have to stop him.... Just as I was thinking that, Lato walked up to them.

Lato: "............Hmmm..."

Owner: "Ahh… Mr. Lato, great work today...."

The moment Lato approached... the owner reflexively released Fennesz's arm from his hand.

Lato stared at him unblinkingly.

Lato: "Oh, hold on. Please grab his arm, because I almost remember…"

Fennesz: "What… Lato?"

Lato: "Hmm... That clingy and overly familiar behavior... That's right.... When was that… I think there was a nobleman who was doing the same thing… to Flure who is bad with strangers…"

Owner: "Gulp!"

Lato: "Hmm… It is still vague, but I am starting to remember. Could it be you are... The overly familiar pig who scared Flure that time...?"

Owner: "Noooooooo!  D-don't remind me! I want to forget it! I'm sorry... So please forgive me~!!"

Tap, tap, tap…

Muu: "H-he ran away at such an amazing speed…"

Fennesz: "Did he experience something so terrifying...?"

Lato: "Who can say? I do not really remember. Now that the play is over... Shall we get started, everyone?"

Muu: "Huh.... Start what?"

Lato: "What do you mean 'what'... Speaking of after the play... I always do that with Flure. Isn't that right, Prof. Miyaji?"

Miyaji: "Oh, I see. You mean the 'Wrap Party'. Yes, we used to do it all the time whenever the play for the children ended. Hmm...  However, today is the 'opening night', and there are many more performances to come."

Berrien: "Fufu…. That's fine, isn't it? We have been practicing a lot lately.  I don't mind if we have a light wrap party."

Fennesz: "Yes, that's right. I haven't had much time to spend with the lord…"

Berrien: "What do you think, my lord? I was wondering if you would join us for the party."

> "Of course!

Muu: "Yes, yes! I'd like to be there too!"

Fennesz: "Of course. We'd like you to join us too, Muu."

Berrien: "Fufu. We will now go back to the mansion and…"

Buzz —- buzz —--

Berrien: " ! This sound…"

People's voices: "It's an angel...!  Angels are appearing!! Quick, call the 'fallen angels'... No, the 'devil butlers'!"

Lato: "Good grief... Now for an encore, huh? Even though we are about to have a wrap up party… This is why I hate angels."

Fennesz: "Well... That was better than being interrupted in the middle of the play. But this is not the time to say that. Let's head to the location immediately."

Berrien: "Yes. Please take care of the lord, Mr. Miyaji and Muu."

Miyaji: "Yeah… Alright."

Muu: "Leave it to me!"

Berrien: "Then, my lord. Release the power…"

> "Yes, okay."

Release their power and prepare for battle with the angels. This is not a play... This is a real fight with lives on the line. For them, this is reality, their everyday life… I realized it all over again, now that the play was over.

Berrien: "Fufu…  Do not worry, my lord. We will not lose ourselves. Because this battle is to protect mankind and… to protect our lord."

Fennesz: "Th-that's right! I'm not afraid of angels if it's for the lord's sake!"

Lato: "Yes. Let's destroy the angels and go to the wrap party together."

Miyaji: "You too, my lord. There's nothing to be afraid of."

> "I'm not afraid with all of you by my side"

Miyaji: "........! My lord… Yes. Don't leave our side, my lord."

> "Yeah, thank you."

Berrien: "No, it's the same to you... Thank you very much… for always being there for us."

I'm sure they will continue to fight. Even though they will be insulted by those uncaring people, they still fight while risking their lives to protect even such people…

For that reason, … I will not only watch from the audience. I want to stand on the same stage and support them by their side. That's what I thought… through this play.

End

Note: edited

Prev | All

[teaspoonnebula]

The Final Problem Part 1 - Thoughts

Whoof. Here we go.

Of these the first and second were extremely condensed, while the last is, as I shall now show, an absolute perversion of the facts.

Precisely what perversions of the facts James Moriarty wrote in his letters is such delightful fanfic fodder. I suppose I also need to mention that this point that yes, Professor James Moriarty's brother is called Colonel James Moriarty. Did they just have weird parents? Is Jame-Moriarty a compound surname? You decide.

He still came to me from time to time when he desired a companion in his investigation, but these occasions grew more and more seldom, until I find that in the year 1890 there were only three cases of which I retain any record.

This is so heartbreaking. Another one where as a reader you have to fill in the gaps. Is it a classic case of Watson finding himself prioritizing his romantic relationship with a clear obligation over his more nebulous platonic one? Is Holmes just increasingly unsure whether Watson wants him around and doesn't feel able to just make social calls? Was Holmes ramping up the drug use in a way that was driving them apart? Did he know he was interacting with increasingly dangerous people and was trying to keep Watson safe?

"Is Mrs Watson in?" "She is away upon a visit." "Indeed! You are alone?" "Quite." "Then it makes it the easier for me to propose that you should come away with me for a week to the Continent."

Mrs Watson is NEVER in, is she? :D

I know lots of folks like to imagine she either doesn't exist, or this is a sign that their marriage has broken down. I kind of like to think she's just really independent. If John gets to swan off on adventures for great stretches of time, so does she.

He saw the question in my eyes, and, putting his finger-tips together and his elbows upon his knees,

Gotta engage in some Weird Detective Sitting, naturally.

Between ourselves, the recent cases in which I have been of assistance to the royal family of Scandinavia, and to the French republic, have left me in such a position that I could continue to live in the quiet fashion which is most congenial to me, and to concentrate my attention upon my chemical researches.

I'd completely forgotten these lines. It's so interesting that Holmes is contemplating retiring at this point - he's still so young, but apparently he's not so starved for stimulation as he used to be. A quiet life is starting to appeal.

On the strength of it he won the Mathematical Chair at one of our smaller universities, and had, to all appearance, a most brilliant career before him.

Ah, the days when you could write a treatise age 21, immediately get given a chair in Mathematics, and basically stay in the job for life while also running your giant criminal empire.

Truly the golden age of academia.

"'You have less frontal development that I should have expected,' said he, at last.

SICK PHRENOLOGY BURN, PROF

"'You crossed my path on the 4th of January,' said he. 'On the 23d you incommoded me; by the middle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an impossible one.'

That's right - Holmes and Moriarty haven't knowingly been enemies for years. It's been a four month whirlwind nemesis-ship. I'm saying it as a joke but I think there's something so tragic when you juxtapose it with the distancing with Watson.

Although also consider that it's Watson who he turns to - when his knuckles are bleeding and multiple attempts are made on his life and he needs to get away, Watson is who he wants and needs and hopes for.

I took a cab after that and reached my brother's rooms in Pall Mall, where I spent the day.

UGGGHHH I want to know more about what happened here and what Mycroft had to say about the whole situation. We get a few clues later about it.

Welp. Until tomorrow, then...

[westerberg]

Tagged by @52stations for these 15 q's thank u!!!

1. are you named after anyone

My grandma's name is Betty, & my mom wanted to name me after her but that's an awful name for a child, so I ended up Elizabeth. My mom also loveddddd Pride and Prejudice so I like to say I'm named after Elizabeth Bennett but it's only half true.

2. when was the last time you cried?

I came close earlier this week listening to Simon and Garfunkel The Boxer, but I couldn't tell you the last time I was seriously crying uncontrollably. It's like what Fiona Apple said...

3. do you have kids?

no......oh my god

4. what sports do you play/have played?

not really any. I briefly played tennis in middle school.

5. do you use sarcasm?

Ya.....💁‍♀️

6. what is the first thing you notice about people?

This is a hard question but I guess it would be how they choose to present themselves. Like if we're asking literally what do I notice FIRST I guess their clothes and how they cut/dye their hair etc.

7. what’s your eye colour?

🤎 Beautiful Brown 🤎

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Happy Endings bc i suck :D

9. any talents?

is writing a talent... squidward voice. or spending long periods of time in contemplative silence I'm really good at that. If i don't think about it too hard I can do a really good Marc Maron impression

10. where were you born?

Semi-rural Minnesota

11. what are your hobbies?

Reading, "working on my screenplay," listening to comedy podcasts, watching movies, journaling, going on long walks, painting.

12. do you have any pets?

A tiny little black kitty kat <3

13. how tall are you?

I haven't been officially measured in a while but I seem to be the same height or even a little taller than the 5'9" people I know so about 5'9"

14. favourite subject in school?

in high school it would've been history but if we count classes we took in college. Well one time in my weird cultural studies major I got to take a class on comedy in culture and I got to spew all of my opinions that I had clearly spent much more time thinking ab than all the other students and the prof loved me. I got a perfect score on an essay on cancel culture <3

15. dream job?

Late Show page who has sex with David Letterman but then gets kept on for the transition to Conan and then has sex with him too... just kidding. I'd like to write for television or movies or whatever

tagging @antiquesintheattic @sonic-fizz @milliondollarbash @sugarmountain @sexuallyvague 🍻🍻🍻

[thesmallestmango]

Rant about your ocs!!!!!

hehe you asked for (yay)

Okay so there is a pretend book that I wanna write but probably never will and this group of five stars in it :3

So first Vyra (Vi-ra), shes like the apprentice of this evil professor at a university (magical), and she helps him with his experiments and requests even as the morality is decreasing with each one. See she wants to be powerful but doesn't realize the cost it will have. The evil prof. ends up being able to control and manipulate her and its very cool :D (she doesn't wanna be control but ya reap what ya sow so)(also at some point she does realize things went a bit too far and runs away toooo ->)

Mozi! (Moss-ee or moz-ee idk), they are a hybrid. (hybrids have visible indicators they they are magical so they get kinda ousted by the appearance) They like have fire powers and such, but this means that they actually are not liked by many people cuz magical racism ya. So they have to wear like thick gloves and a hood and cape so people don't realize. They also have a fake/mechanical leg that they made themself because ... they needed two legs. Also Vyra lover. Also there house is like at the edge of the city limit since they dont go in the city often.

But there to help is Austri (sounds like austria without the A at the end) he is also studying spells like vyra but not the university, instead like with probably shady people in the city. he helps out mozi with things in the city in return for staying with them and getting information about certain stuff. he is a sort of in and out member of a resistance in the city.

Then we have Ren (hehe Ren), who is NOT magical, sadly, even though both of her brothers inherited it, she did not. She really wants to prove herself more than ever since she has that extra "handicap." She works with a group of like resistance members to help people who were affected by the evil government and fight back. She is also very ready to do anything to get her hand on something that would make her more powerful (bad idea)

Allis (alice but diff/ short for allistor maybe), he is also a hybrid, he has wings. He was taken by the evil government (lol) and they were threatening to cut his wings when los resistors came in and rescued all the people there. One of his wings still got reallly damaged tho, so flying hurts. ren rescued him, i hasvent decided if they like eachother yet tho. Allis ends up helping ren's efforts and joining her tho.

And thus ends my lil tour of parts of me brain :DDD

thanks for lettin' me rant spec <33

[infatuatedheloise]

omg so I'm not normally on campus on Fridays but one of my other profs gave a lecture for a club & offerred extra credit today so I came down for that and then stayed to do homework

The weather today has been really nice--sunny and almost 60 degrees, so I knew I wanted to go for a walk, and since abelard likes to go on walks, I asked if he wanted to go on a walk with me around campus, so we did! It was super cool, we talked about a lot of stuff--birds, some of the presentations last week, his daughter lol, and religion (he was raised catholic & I lutheran so we have fairly similar backgrounds, but neither of us believe anymore)

One time, there was a bike coming at us so we both got over to the side of the path and OMG he got so close to me, my heart started racing

then later, we were in a garden on campus that has a bunch of statues & we were looking for a statue in a tree & I found it first, so when he was looking for it, he got really close to me to look from my perspective and we ended up bumping shoulders :D

we got back to his office (where I had set my stuff) and I thanked him for coming with me and he said "yeah no, that was awesome, thanks for asking me" :D

[forsakenwitchery]

So since the synopsis for 1x13 has a lot of people worried (me included) I wanted to point out some things that hopefully indicate they aren't backtracking with Tom?.. Tagging @walker-extended-universe and @laf-outloud ‘cause I’m quietly reading you guys and I don’t think I’ve seen people mention this.

Pic 1: I've spent the last week editing a vid with guys of WIndy and I've started paying A LOT of attention to their hats since I had to combine scenes, and I've noticed that in the flashbacks when Abby starts suspecting Shane, the killer wears a pretty specific hat with a textured/braided band (I believe it’s called band, not ribbon?). Know who else wears it? Shane when Abby first sees him in Independence. Granted, in all the scenes after that he wears a different one with a plain smooth one. But still, he IS the owner of the killer's hat. :D And by this time, I've spent enough time editing WIndy to know I've never seen such a hat on Tom (he appears to own one hat with like a smooth two-layered band of sorts). Plus, the killer as of 1x09 has those mimic wrinkles near the lips that Shane has and Tom doesn't (unless he's smiling, and the killer wasn't smiling).

Pic 2: Another interesting thing that I've noticed is that they've reshot this scene because the angle and the face under the hat look a bit different in the pilot and in 1x09. Notice how in the pilot we got more of a closeup shot where you can’t see much of the hat and the killer doesn’t look like Shane + in 1x09 there’s more blood on the hand (and I think the blood pattern on the sleeve is a bit different as well?). It’s a bit of a prof deformation as a cosplayer, but I just tend to look very closely at makeup, costumes, all that. I think this means two things:

1) When they were shooting the pilot, they didn't know if the show would be picked up and haven't cast anyone as Shane. 2) For them to go and reshoot part of that scene with Timothy to show it for all but 2 seconds seems like a hell of a lot of extra hassle if they planned on going back to "yeah, Tom did it, Shane is a red herring". What seems more likely to you guys, that they had spent all that extra time recreating the killing scene because they had nothing better to do or because they maaaaaybe plan on showing it with the killer’s face fully visible, so they had to reshoot it with the actual culprit’s face? I’m betting on the second one.

And now my two cents on some theories and discussions I’ve already seen flying around, putting them under the cut.

Someone left a comment on my latest Tabby vid the other day saying they think that even if Shane killed Liam, Tom should have still known Shane did it from the start, and ummmm no, that's easily debunked by Tom being surprised when he sees Shane has a gun now and literally asking him, “what is this, you carry a gun now?”. In a room with just the two of them, so there was no potential audience for him to play to & it makes no sense for Tom to know Shane is a killer before Abby came to tell him.

The thing I've also noticed with WIndy is how the writers love to plant small details early on and then building upon them later on. I was genuinely surprised by the sheer amount of those small details while editing, almost nothing in WIndy comes out of nowhere just because the plot suddenly demands it. Like for example when Kate jokingly guessed that Hoyt bunked at the undertaker, and then when they needed a Jane Doe, Hoyt knew the undertaker always had an unknown body to sell. Or how Kai saw Kate receive a telegram early on, and many more things like that. With that in mind, they've told us at least twice this season that Tom repeatedly got blamed for things Shane did, so to me that seems like a setup for something similar with Gus' attack/Liam's murder.

Plus at this point... it would make zero sense for Tom to end up being this big bad. He was willing to get beaten up to "make something" of the town, he stopped Calian's execution, he went into the dust storm to save a stranger etc etc. Those are all acts of someone who CARES. Like who's capable of caring, not a cold-blooded killer. Not some sociopathic mastermind, and Tom would freaking have to be a total sociopath to kill Liam, shoot Abby and all of the sudden hurt Gus. Time and time again he tried to help others and was reluctant to hurt others (even indirectly with forbidding the opium den) unless they hurt him (then straight to the torture barn they go). Still, in no universe him ending up as THE antagonist makes sense. He's not the good guy, he's got a long way to go, but THE bad guy? Doesn't sit well with me. I hope they don’t ruin all the amazing buildup they’ve done.

The episode title also bothers me a lot, idkkkk hopefully they're aware Tom is a fan favorite, so killing him off would be like shooting themselves in the foot. Even with fanvids I see how much people are interested in content with Tom specifically, so he's really THE character that can potentially get more people interested in watching the show. I love the whole cast and all the characters dearly, but Tom and Kate became my two absolute favorites, with Tom specifically we got this amazing morally grey character and I just can't imagine WIndy without him, pretty sure I'm not the only one. Backtracking with him at this point for pure shock value would just ruin... well, not everything, but a lot.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. :D