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roosterforme · 6 months

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Adult Education Part 11 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica finally tells someone what happened with Brian, and maybe Jake would be just as understanding if she told him. With the fraternity fundraiser a few days away, her nerves start getting the best of her, but Jake continues to show how effortlessly he can make her happy.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, frat boys 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica felt so much better and yet emotionally drained at the same time. She spent almost thirty minutes telling her friend what happened with Brian, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that the other woman wasn't judgmental in the least. When Jessica was finally done talking, she sank back in her chair and fixed her glasses.

"So, yeah... that's why he's holding a grudge. That's why he won't give me tenure even though I deserve it."

She was met with a stony expression. "Just say the word, and Conley is going down. Have you... mentioned this to Jake?"

"No," Jessica replied immediately, her skin itching at the thought. "No."

"You should," she replied slowly. "I think he'd be surprisingly attentive, and I say that a bit begrudgingly."

Jessica cracked a smile as she grabbed her empty tupperware container and stood. "I'll think about it, Dr. Tits." She left the office to the sound of genuine laughter, but by the time she got back to her office, she felt exhausted. It wasn't fair that Brian had taken up so much space in her brain for so long. When Jake texted her and let her know he couldn't make it to her office hours, she felt almost relieved.

The fraternity fundraiser was this Saturday, and she'd planned everything out as much as she could. Everything was checked off her list, and she was going to meet with the Kappa Pi students at their house on Wednesday evening. The only thing she hadn't done was log into the university portal and see how many tickets had sold for the event.

Alumni weekend was a huge deal, and it was well attended and advertised, but she was still dreading checking. So she finished all of her classes for the afternoon and then ducked into the lounge to make herself a cup of coffee before her office hours started.

She looked up as someone else entered, and it was Brian's teaching assistant. The one he was almost definitely sleeping with. "Hi," she said cautiously.

Jessica just nodded at her. She wanted to warn this poor girl, but it was obvious that Brian had her in a similar position to which Jessica had been in last school year. Plus, she already knew he'd make sure both women paid the price if she did.

It was with tears in her eyes that Jessica returned to her office. That hopeful feeling from lunch was gone now, and she really wished Jake was able to stop by today after all. She plopped down at her desk and decided to just log in and see how poorly her ticket sales had gone.

"Holy shit," she muttered, nearly spilling her coffee. Over one hundred tickets had sold, and the event was still days away. "Oh my god." Tears welled up in her eyes as she did the math quickly in her head. Her event would make over five thousand dollars for the school. Hopefully the fraternity house would be able to hold that capacity.

When her phone vibrated on her desk, she was startled from her thoughts.

Jake Seresin: I miss you too much. I can't stay long, but I'll be there in ten.

She didn't even bother to respond, but she was waiting by the open door for him when he rushed down the hallway. "Jake," she said with a soft laugh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. He was still wearing his flight suit, and he was a little out of breath.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips, and that made her a little bit out of breath as well. One big hand slid down to her butt as he said, "We had late training days sprung on us for today and tomorrow, and I volunteered to pick up dinner. I talked them into the Thai restaurant down the block from here." Then he froze as Jessica ran her fingers along his patches. "Were you crying? It looks like you were crying."

She shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, but it's not bad." She smiled more as Jake kissed along her cheeks. "A ton of tickets sold for my event on Saturday."

"How many?" he asked, looking at her with pride.

"Over one hundred."

"Damn, you're good, Baby."

Jessica was looking up at his handsome features and his sexy smirk while he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lazily along her bottom lip. She kissed his thumb before licking him, and when his eyes went wide, she laughed. "You can't stay?"

He shook his head. "I'll come back on Thursday. We can go to Chippy's after your office hours?"

"Yeah," she replied, tracing his HANGMAN patch. She could already hear Luca's skateboard on the tiled hallway floor, so she needed to be quick. "Do you want to sleep over on Friday night at my place? We could head to the event from there on Saturday? I could... show you the lingerie in my closet?"

Jake groaned softly, and goosebumps rippled down her neck as he asked, "Will you let me pick out something pretty for you to wear?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed as she pressed her lips to his neck. "Anything you want."

"Yes," he gasped, and then you heard Luca whistle.

"Get it, Dr. Reed," he said as he kicked his skateboard up into his hand. "Want me to come back later?"

"No," Jessica said as she disentangled herself from Jake's wandering hands while she blushed. "He was just leaving," she said. Then she looked up at Jake's green eyes and wide pupils. "You were just leaving."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he kissed her lips softly and said, "Call me later tonight. I'll see you on Thursday."

She watched him rush back toward the elevator before she closed her door behind her. "How many times do I have to remind you not to skate in the hallways?"

"Sorry, Dr. Reed."

"Get out your notebook."

-----------------------

When Jessica heard a knock on her office door on Wednesday around dinnertime, she called out, "It's open." Really, she was on her way to the Kappa Pi house, and she hadn't left herself much time to deviate from her agenda. Hopefully whoever this was would make it quick, but then she smiled when she realized who it was. "Advanced Calculus. What's up?"

"Just wondering if you were looking for someone to tag along? I speak fluent 'frat boy', and Bradley is training late with Jake."

Jessica was shocked into silence for a beat. "Yeah. I would love that. I'm actually a little nervous about meeting them."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You've got boobs and a pretty face. They'll be eating out of your hand, literally doing whatever you want them to."

"I'm not so sure," she replied with apprehension. But when they walked across campus to the old Victorian fraternity house with KAPPA PI on the front of it and knocked, Jessica was pleasantly surprised.

A lanky guy with bad acne opened the door, and his eyes bugged out as he looked between the two women. "Dr. Reed?" he asked in awe.

"Yes, that's me," Jessica replied, reaching out to shake his head before introducing him to the other professor. When he made no move to do anything except stare at them, she asked, "Can we come in?"

"Y-Yes. I'm James by the way."

Jessica led the way inside, and she was pleasantly surprised again. The front foyer opened up to a rather cavernous living room and dining room. There were beautiful hardwood floors and rich paint colors and a fireplace. The house was clean, and she was sure the kegs and tables would fit inside without issue once the furniture was moved out onto the back lawn.

"Your house is so clean! Where are your fraternity brothers?" the other woman asked, and James blushed bright pink.

A few minutes later, there was a lineup of a dozen or so guys staring at the two women. Their expressions ranged from surprise to bewilderment, but there were two on the end who looked like they just won the lottery.

"Okay, hi. I'm Dr. Reed from the physics department, and I actually recognize a few of you. Calvin?" she asked, smiling at one of them. "From last semester?" He waved awkwardly back at her. "Right, well, I'm your advisor for the alumni event this weekend. I have a list of things you need to do before Saturday at six o'clock." She started passing out copies to each of them as she read off the list. "Move the furniture. Clean the kitchen. Fill the keg barrels with ice. And so on. Any questions?"

Five hands shot up, and Jessica stepped back in surprise. "Here it comes," Advanced Calculus muttered as Jessica pointed to the smirking guy at the end.

He nodded at Jessica and asked, "If I switch my major to physics, will you be teaching all the classes?"

"Um, no," she answered, shaking her head in confusion. Then she pointed at the one next to him who had his hand raised.

"Do either of you need a date for Saturday night?" he asked eagerly.

Jessica snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. She was about to answer when her friend said, "Both of our dates are in the military. And they're jacked. And they're mean."

A chorus of boos and groans filled the space, and Jessica had to try her best to answer the relevant questions without laughing. She showed the boys where to move the furniture, and she inspected the kitchen. Then she checked to see if there was enough room for the string quartet next to the stairs. She was determined to deliver on the elevated frat boy aesthetic since so many people seemed excited about it.

"I think we're done for the day," Jessica told the guys with a smile as they fought over who got to escort the two of them back to the front door. "My email address is at the bottom of the list if you need to contact me for anything." A bunch of hands shot up in the air, and she added, "Anything pertaining to the event. If you try to ask me out again, I'm just going to delete the emails."

The guys lowered their hands and mumbled goodbye as the women stepped back out onto the silent porch. "Jessica, all those boys are going to sign up for your lectures next semester. I guarantee it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "No, they won't. If anything they'd sign up for yours!"

But she was laughing as she walked down the steps to the sidewalk, and Jessica followed behind her in her high heels. "Just wait until Jake sees the twenty one year old kids with acne trying to flirt with you. He'll get jealous and pouty, I can practically see it now."

Jessica scoffed. "No, he won't! And didn't you meet Bradley when he was twenty one years old and in a frat?"

She froze on the sidewalk as that familiar blue Bronco parked on the next block up. "I sure did. And prepare yourself. Bradley is going to be insufferable on Saturday night."

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Jake could only really focus on Jessica. After that brief couple of minutes in her office before Luca arrived on Tuesday, he was sweating it out until he could get home and jerk off. He came all over his hands in the shower as he thought about coating up her glasses instead.

Now it was Thursday morning, and he leaned against the shower wall and thought about what kind of lingerie she might have in her closet. He hoped there was a little bit of everything. He could imagine her in something soft and white, almost ethereal. He could just as easily picture her in some leather with a riding crop. His groan filled the glass shower enclosure as he wrapped his hand around his cock again.

He realized by the time he finally started getting dressed that he was going to be late if he didn't seriously get a move on. He was just buttoning his uniform shirt when his phone lit up on his bed. Jessica had sent him an image. His fingers abandoned the buttons so quickly to grasp for his phone. And holy shit, his hot girlfriend sent him a picture of a dark purple lace bra and thong laid out on what must have been her light blue bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as he glared down at his cock. He really didn't have time to get hard again right now. But... he was curious, so he wrote back.

You wearing that today, Jess?

She didn't respond until Jake had parked his new truck on base, but this time, she sent an up close photo of the tops of her breasts hugged by purple lace. He was practically drooling as he ran for the locker room with his bag.

Keep 'em coming, Baby.

He decided to keep his phone on him. It would be worth getting reprimanded. She sent him a handful of filthy looking photos as the day progressed, but it still wasn't enough. She must have taken a bunch of them in the morning before she left for campus, and Jake was so thankful.

He had to adjust his uniform pants several times that evening when he walked from his truck to her office. On his way into the building, he passed a delighted looking Bradshaw and his wife on their way out. She was practically hanging off of him as they walked, and Jake heard her softly ask, "Okay fuckboy, you want me to get your Beta Gamma paddle out when we get home?"

Bradley froze and met Jake's eyes as his cheeks started turning pink. "Hangman," he grunted, and his wife spun to face Jake with a coy smile.

"Hi, Jake," she sang as she reached for her husband's hand. "See you on Saturday night."

It was hard to still feel jealous of what they had when Jake knew what was waiting for him a few floors up. He took off toward the elevators, and then he walked as quickly as he physically could to Jessica's office. Two taps on her door, and she was pulling it open for him. He did the briefest glance around the room to make sure she was alone before he closed the door and backed her up against it.

"Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" he whispered, his voice sounding a little harsh as he smiled softly at her. But his smile vanished immediately when he felt her hand run slowly across his thigh before she cupped his length through his khakis.

"I just thought I'd keep you entertained while you were at work." She gave him a little squeeze, and Jake bucked against her hand. He glanced down to see that her soft sweater was the same purple color as her underwear, and she had on a little black skirt and black heels. He kissed her forehead and then her nose as he grabbed her ass with one hand and pushed her hair back behind her ear with the other.

"You kept me hard while I was at work. That's what you did, Professor Reed." Jake wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed along her jaw softly. She gasped as he used his other hand to slowly bunch her skirt up until he could feel the round of her bare ass cheek in his hand.

"Jake," she whined, making it sound like three syllables instead of one as her hands slid up and around his neck. He kept his hand on her neck gentle and his kisses light as he grabbed her ass and slipped his fingers inside the back of her thong. "Jake!"

Her hands were grasping at his hair as he kissed her ear and rubbed his erection against her sweet body. "You're gorgeous. You drove me crazy all day. You know that? You did it on purpose?"

"Yes," she gasped as he sucked gently on her neck before soothing the spot with his tongue.

"Mmm," he hummed quietly as he panted. "You gonna let me see that pretty purple set?"

Her voice was an obscene whine that left him grinding against her harder as she moaned, "Yes!"

And he couldn't help himself as he pressed the softest kisses along her jaw and ear and asked, "You gonna let me fuck you hard on your desk?"

Jessica's eyes were wide, and her glasses had gone crooked on her face, but he kissed her lips after she said, "Yes." Her hand reached out to press the lock on her door, and then Jake carried her to her desk and set her on the edge. Her eyes already looked blissed out as she spread her thighs wide and hooked both of her feet around his calves, pulling him closer.

He tipped her chin up so she was looking at him, and then he took both of her soft thighs in his hands as she kept eye contact. "I'm crazy about you," he murmured as he pressed himself against her core. Then she pulled her sweater up and over her head before tossing it to the floor. Now her glasses were really crooked, and her hair was a mess as she reached for the fly of his pants. Jake was lost to the feel of her hand gripping his length as she pushed his pants down. Then she released him and leaned back on both of her palms with her lace covered tits thrust alluringly toward him.

"Fuck me," she commanded in her teaching voice. "Fuck me hard on my desk."

"Jesus Christ," he cursed, guiding his hands up her thighs, pushing the fabric up until that little skit was around her waist. When he tugged her damp thong to the side, he was treated to the sight of her wet pussy all ready to go. She ran her high heels up and down his thighs until he grabbed her behind the knees and thrust himself deep.

Jessica's jaw dropped open as Jake held her legs in his hands and fucked her hard, his thrusts relentless as she started to whine. He gritted his teeth, the obscene slapping sounds of his body meeting hers filling the room as he watched her pussy take him. Her tits were bouncing beautifully each time he filled her, and she just kept getting louder.

"Someone's gonna hear you," he warned, his voice a growl as he braced his feet a little wider apart on the floor. "Someone's gonna come knocking if you're not quieter, Jess."

She pressed her lips together and whimpered loudly in response as he continued to fuck her, rocking his hips into her body, his balls slapping her ass. Maybe he just didn't give a fuck if someone heard. Maybe Jake didn't care who knew that he was getting Jessica off on her desk right now. This was his girl, and she was a professional teaser. Even the way she was gripping him so tight with each stroke was too much. Her body was made for him, the way she responded to him like this.

"Jake," she keened, extending the syllables once more as he ran his hand down her calf and lifted her leg so he could kiss her ankle. The shift in position had her squeezing around him while she eased herself onto her back. Jake watched her lace covered tits bounce as her hands grappled for something to grab onto. She held the edge of her desk as she came undone for him. A few more sharp thrusts, and Jake pushed himself deep, filling her up with his cum. And once again, when he withdrew himself, he got to watch the mess he made drip down her ass only to collect on her thong before dripping to the desk.

When Jake looked up along her body, Jessica had herself propped up on her elbows with a serene smile and crooked glasses. He leaned down over her and kissed her. "I got a little carried away," he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair and squeezed her thigh.

She looked impossibly sweet as he fixed her glasses, and she said, "I plan on getting carried away with you tomorrow night when you sleepover."

He devoured her mouth, but the kisses turned lazy and unhurried. Eventually Jake helped her sit up again on the edge of her desk, and he took in the sight of her rucked up skirt, purple bra and his cum between her thighs. "Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll take you to Chippy's."

"Sex on my desk and Chippy's? Today just keeps getting better," she said with a laugh as Jake grabbed some tissues from her shelf and wiped up her desk and picked up her sweater. Once she was in his arms, he pulled her shirt over her head and helped her wiggle her skirt back down.

When he zipped up his pants, he told her, "Why don't you grab a journal or two to take with us? We can read it together over some Sam Adams and peanuts."

Jessica's eyes lit up, and she actually clapped her hands. It was the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen in his life, and he watched as she clicked across her floor on her heels to the shelf. "I love that," she murmured. "Great idea, Jake."

He loved it, too. He loved everything about her. She was so smart and beautiful, but she was funny, too. She wasn't clingy, and she had a fascinating career. She didn't need him around, but she seemed to light up when he was, and that's what left Jake a little breathless as she turned and looked at him with two journals in her hand. "You ready?"

Jake kissed the slight bruise he left on her neck on the ride down the elevator. When the doors opened, Brian Conley was there arguing with a young woman, and he felt Jessica tense up in his arms. "It's okay," Jake murmured against her hair. Even though her posture remained a little rigid, she let him take her by the hand and walk out into the lobby, and Jake absorbed the glare that Brian shot their way so Jessica didn't have to.

He'd had just about enough of that asshole, and the next time he witnessed Brian being a dick or if he heard his girlfriend complain about him again, Jake was probably going to lose it. But as soon as they were inside the dive bar, Jake noticed that her shoulders seemed less tense, and she smiled as soon as Chippy waved to her.

"Hey, Reedy."

"Hi, Chippy."

He started pouring two pints as he shot Jake the look of warning that he'd become accustomed to; it was almost a part of the experience now. But the bar was absolutely packed tonight, and Jessica held his hand a little tighter as she stepped around peanut shells on the sticky floor. There was only one high top table free with only one stool at it.

Jake kissed Jessica's cheek and nudged her in that direction. "Grab the table while I get the beer and peanuts?" She took off in that direction, and Jake headed for the bar.

"So. You're here to stay then?" a disgruntled Chippy asked as he shoved a bowl of peanuts next to the pint glasses.

Jake tried to reel in his surprised laugh. "Yes, sir. I'm not going anywhere."

Chippy grunted as he took the twenty dollar bill from Jake and made change for him. He slid the bills across the bar but kept his hand on them. "If I so much as see you with another woman or see tears in that girl's eyes," he said, nodding toward Jessica, "you'll never see the inside of this bar again."

Jake waited for him to pick up his hand, and then he took all of the bills except for a few singles. "Understood." Then he could tell he'd been dismissed when Chippy started waiting on the group next to him, so he took everything back to the table where Jessica was perched on the stool.

"Literally all of the seats are being used," she told him, but Jake set everything down and then pulled her into his arms.

"Just means I get to hold you, then." He sat and then helped her onto his lap, and she settled on his thigh while he kissed her cheek and the side of her neck. "This is perfect."

Her cheeks were a little flushed, and Jake could smell himself on her as he wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand settle on her hip. This gorgeous woman was wearing panties soaked with his cum and calmly opening one of the physics journals to share an article with him. "Oh, you'll like this one," she told him, smiling over her shoulder before pointing out the title on the page. She thought he was smart, and she seemed to like having him around outside of bedroom activities, too.

"I'm sure I will," he replied, kissing her shoulder as he listened to her tell him about jet propulsion in a newly designed aircraft.

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Intelligent, self aware Jake is ruining me a little bit. Brian is a dank ass little bitch. Please send asks if you'd like to see a certain type of lingerie in her closet. Frat fundraiser is up next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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aidaronan · 3 months

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Welcome to the Lube Chute!

Some We're-A-Package-Deal Summer Job Stobin crack, dedicated to @griefabyss69. Also shout out to @wynnyfryd who said the Lube Chute sounded like the location of Stobin's next fail summer job after Family Video got destroyed. "No, I'm telling you, Steve. We have to say it every time."

"We have to say, 'Welcome to the Lube Chute, where our main goal is fillin' all your holes,' every time?"

"Every time." Robin shrugged her shoulders. "It's the whole 'ocean of flavor' thing all over again." She'd started at the Lube Chute a week before him, owing to his need to hover over Eddie while his body knitted itself back together. By the time Steve had decided Eddie could get to the fridge and the bathroom on his own, she had been deemed competent enough to show him the register and inventory procedures.

"Yeah, except 'ocean of flavor' was about ice cream," Steve said. "And this is about, you know, rubber dicks."

"That's the way of stupid retail, huh." Robin sighed dramatically and hopped upon the counter. Next to her sat an open box of flavored lubes. She picked up a pricing gun and started affixing them with stickers.

A few minutes later, the door dinged with the sound of someone pushing their way into the shop. A regular-looking latino man in jeans and a faded Zeppelin tee stepped into the shop.

Steve gave Robin a pleading look, and she pulled her lips thin in sympathy and mouthed, "sorry, your turn." God. Welp. He may as well rip off the Band-Aid.

"Welcome to the Lube Chute," Steve said flatly, "where our goal is fillin' holes."

The guy snorted softly and went on his way, moving toward a rack of adult video tapes. Meanwhile, Robin kept her head down, looking pointedly to where she'd slapped a $.3.99 label onto a bottle of Maxxx Slick Strawberry.

"Like obviously I don't care," she said. "But it is 'where our main goal is fillin' all your holes.'"

"Ugh." Steve rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "Why is it, like, so long?"

Curling his chin back around, he found the customer at the counter holding Dr. Lovesmuscles's Foot Long Schlong. The customer looked between it and Steve before raising his eyebrows. Shit and fuck. For the first time in literally ever, Steve wished he was back in those tiny Scoops shorts.

"I wasn't... I didn't mean the... I..." Steve stared at the guy over the counter and then gave up on trying to explain, punching things into the register as fast as he could so he could end the interaction. "So for the video and the toy, that comes to $18.39 with tax."

Steve made made change for a $20, put the guy's things into a nondescript brown paper bag, and then bit back a groan when he realized he had to embarrass himself one more time before it was all over.

"Thank you for visiting the Lube Chute. Remember if the base ain't flared, it doesn't go up there. Have a nice day!"

Next to him, Robin coughed into her elbow. When Steve looked over, he found her reading the back of one of the lube bottles, this one watermelon flavored.

"What do you think potassium sorbate even is?" Robin asked. "I mean, I know what potassium is. I passed chem and got into college—go Wildcats. Just... potassium sorbate. What does it even do?"

Steve stared at her for a long moment and then snatched the pricing gun from her hand. #

It was late July. August loomed and with it so did the end of possibly their last summer job together. After this, they were both slated to leave Hawkins. Robin to Northwestern, Steve to Chicago to be near her (and because it made sense as a base for Eddie to work on growing his music career.)

On this particular Wednesday, they had a huge shipment of video tapes to go through. Other than the scantily clad and sometimes fully nude women on the covers, it felt a lot like being back at Family Video. They quickly priced and stocked the tapes that were for sale, and then they worked on storing the covers for the rentals and putting them in the rental cases and then into the system.

"God, Steve, I am just, like, so gay," Robin whispered under her breath for the fifth or sixth time as she stared wide-eyed at a VHS cover. On it, a redheaded woman stared into the camera, her breasts exposed, her hand disappearing down the front of her very thin white panties. "You do know you can just, like, check one of these out, right?" Steve asked. "You're an adult. No one would—" Steve cut himself off when the bell over the door jingled. Jumping at the sound, Robin almost dropped the tape, fumbling with it several times before Steve snatched it from the air and handed it back to her. She was blushing hard when she went to put it into the computer.

One crisis averted, Steve turned toward the door to find one of the owners coming in. Shit.

Steve had slacked off on the welcome and goodbye phrases over the course of the summer because, well, he didn't want to say them. And now he wasn't sure he even remembered them properly. Shit, shit, shit.

He smiled and nodded as the owner approached the counter. Stephanie was a sleek, blonde woman who looked nothing like the kind of person you might expect to own a sex shop.

"Order come in okay?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, one damaged tape so far," Steve said. "Definitely an improvement over the last order."

'If the base is too...' No, that wasn't it.

"Love to hear that since I spent 3 hours yelling at the distributor after that incident."

'Where we fill holes for...' Definitely not.

"Yeah, right, sucked for us too beca—" Steve froze as a customer walked into the shop. He looked over at Robin, hoping to catch her eyes for a save, but she was laser-focused on sorting another box of tapes into alphabetical order for processing.

Fuck. Steve smiled at the incoming customer. Okay, he could do this. Deep breath, winning smile. "Welcome to the Lube Chute, where our main goal is fillin' all your holes."

Robin inhaled a deep gasp right around the same time that Stephanie burst into raucous laughter, throwing her head back and exposing her slender throat. In another life where he wasn't already tits over ass for Eddie Munson, he would've had to fall a little in love with her.

"Oh my God, that is too good." Stephanie wiped tears form her eyes with her thumbs and then giggled a few more times. "Jesus, Steve. Did you come up with that on your own?"

"Wha—?" Steve snapped his eyes over to Robin, who had her teeth set in grimace that would have been comedic at any other time. Shoulders pulled up around her ears, her eyes bled with apology.

Steve clenched his jaw and turned back to Stephanie, slipping into the most suave persona he could muster under those conditions. "Oh, you know, just thought you'd get a kick out of it."

"Well, you were right about that." Stephanie shook her head and grabbed the money bag to take it to the bank. "'Fillin' holes!" She laughed again on her way out the door.

Steve watched like a hawk as her car pulled out of the parking lot and then rounded on Robin, voice low as the customer browsed the "New Videos!" display.

"You told me we HAD to say..."

"Oh my God, I was gonna tell you after, like, a week, but then you stopped doing it on your own, so I just kinda..." Robin made a wobbly gesture with both hands, and Steve sighed deeply.

"You're walking home today," he said, but they both knew he didn't mean it, especially when his lunch break rolled around and he saved her half his orange as usual. # It was still July, and they could see the customer approaching from the parking lot. "Steve," Robin said. "Steve, please." "I want to point out that it's your own fault that you have to do this now, officially, as part of company policy. Because Stephanie liked it so much." "Steve, but..." Steve jutted his hip out against the counter and crossed his arms, waiting. With the same put-upon sigh he'd grown used to at Scoops and Family Video, Robin drew herself up taller and slapped her hands down on either side of the register. Through the front door, a fat woman with curly brown hair stepped into the shop. Robin beamed at her. "Welcome to the Lube Chute! Where our main goal is fillin' all your holes."

#crack treated seriously #stobin #this started as a joke on the Discord and then I was told I needed to put something on tumblr for the masses #when you embarrass your bestie for the bit and it backfires

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honestlyspookytyphoon · 11 months

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Moving In And Moving On

Summary: After months of being for sale, the house across Pascale’s is sold to a young woman, Y/N. When summer comes, both women have grown close and Pascale tries to set her up with her son, Charles. However, unbeknownst to Pascale, Y/N happens to be the woman who broke Charles’ heart not so long ago…

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female reader, but Pascale turned out to be the main character lol

Warnings: Angst (fed by a cruel thing called reality) – Brief mentions of loved ones passing away – The ending sucks, but I could not come up with anything better for now

Word count: +/- 2.5k

Author’s note: This piece was initially written as part 2 to ‘Cake, coffee and…Charles’, but it can also be read as a standalone. English is not my first language, so please forgive me any grammar mistakes and incoherent writing.

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Pascale was surprised when the ‘For Sale’-sign disappeared out of the front garden from the house across hers. The house had been empty since the elderly owners – Philippe and Lydia, two 80-plussers who had been together for over 65 years - moved to a care home several years ago and after both of them passed away, the family decided to sell it.

For the entire 15 years Pascale has been living in the neighbourhood, the house has been there. She warmed up to the elderly couple living across her quite soon and since then, Pascale had been there many times to chat or to help Philippe and Lydia with gardening or housekeeping when they were having health issues. In a way, the house was a part of her life. That is why, in a fit of nostalgia and melancholy, she decided to get the spare key and cross the street to visit the house one last time, before it would be teared down.

Pascale starts her tour in the small garden at the back, in which rare flowers used to blossom. She lively remembered the times when Philippe and Lydia brought her a small bouquet of these flowers to thank her, just because. Now, these flowers are all gone, overgrown by weed. From the garden, Pascale spots the small balcony at the side of the house, from which you have an amazing view of the surroundings. Philippe would sometimes serenade Lydia from below, knowing these romantic things riled her up the wall. Another fond memory of ancient times.

When Pascale enters the house, it is pitch black and musty. She tries to open the blinds but they are rusted. The power is out as well, so she uses the flashlight of her phone to get one last look of the interior. Despite the deck of dust and the fact that it surely is outdated – the house was built somewhere in the 1960’s –, the interior still creates a feeling of coming home, a safe haven. This feeling also appealed to Pascale’s three sons, who visited Philippe and Lydia from to time when they were young as the house looked like their grandparents’, who passed away too soon. When reminiscing the fond memories of her sons with ‘Phi and Ly’, she spots a picture of the five of them on the dresser. She remembers taking the picture during one of the many cookie-baking sprees on Wednesday afternoon: Lorenzo’s eyes were shooting daggers at Arthur for eating all the cookies, Charles was nickering and Philippe and Lydia were looking fondly at the three menaces in front of them. She gifted them the picture on their 60th anniversary and she never forgot their heartfelt reactions. Feeling tears welling up in her eyes, Pascale decides to take the picture with her before exiting via the back door. It was a house full of memories and history and Pascale hoped that the new owners could feel that too.

A few days after Pascale’s visit, the new owner arrived: Y/N, a 26-year-old woman. Since the house Y/N bought was old, much work needed to be done to meet current requirements and increase the comfort. As Y/N is just at the start of her career and many of Y/N’s savings were used to buy the house, she could not afford professional contractors to renovate the house; with the help of her parents and family, she is doing it all by herself. However, as she has a full-time job, all work needs to be done during the weekends and after work, disturbing the peace in the otherwise quiet neighbourhood. Hence, to make sure her neighbours do not hate her already, she decides to visit them all to inform them on the upcoming works and to discuss planning.

Pascale was the last neighbour she visited. Y/N had knocked on Pascale’s front door a couple of time during the past weeks, but to no avail. The other neighbours had told Y/N about the special bond between Pascale and the previous owners, so she knew that this talk could be hard; she had to be delicate. Not that she held any accountability to Pascale – Y/N bought the house after all – but she had felt similarly when her grandmother’s house was sold; it takes time to accept that a place one grew accustomed is no longer there. Hence, Y/N wanted to show Pascale what the house would look like in the end and ensure her that she did not expect Pascale to accept her immediately. Taking one deep breath, Y/N rang the doorbell of Avenue Paul Doumer 5.

--- Three months later ----

The construction works were in full swing. The facade stones were taken away, cleaned and reused, the house’s insulation was improved and the windows were replaced. Today, Y/N and her nephew were removing the roof tiles to check and repair the underlying woodwork. Pascale watches both of them through her window. In the past months, she and Y/N have grown close. Pascale needed some time to get used to the new situation, but Y/N had been very understanding and an absolute sweetheart. The construction works never started before 7 a.m. and always ended at 10:30 p.m. sharp as agreed upon with the neighbourhood, she informed everybody upfront when there were any changes in the schedules, and she insisted to pay for the water, electricity and utensils she used. Pascale and Y/N always had a small chat when they saw each other and Lorenzo and Arthur, who visited their mom every month, also grew fond of her. Y/N was yet to meet Charles though, Pascale’s middle son, due to his busy racing schedule.

If he only met her, Pascale thought, she is the type of girl he needs. With the F1 summer break just around the corner and the final phase of the construction works nearing, an idea popped up in Pascale’s head.

---- August -----

The day of the street BBQ had come. Pascale had been preparing this event for weeks: doing a tour around the neighbourhood to fix a date, visiting the town hall to get permission to close the street, rent the tables, seats and parasols, making decorations and, of course, preparing the food and drinks – it has been hectic, but she was determined to make this day perfect.

It was now 3 p.m. Charles parked his Ferrari at the small parking lot at the church and jogged his way over to his mother’s house. He knew he was running a bit late - something that his mother always told him was disrespectful - but he was met with a little fan on his way to the BBQ and he just could not refuse the small boy’s request to sign his drawing. When he spotted Pascale on the street, a small smile grew on his face; he loved his mom so dearly and it has been way to long since the last time they saw each other.

Pascale has been chatting with Y/N for almost 30 minutes now, only interrupted by her two sons – who told her that Charles would arrive a little later – and some other neighbours. Y/N was dressed in a loose floral dress that came a little above the knees, paired with white sneakers. She was wearing very little make-up and, much to Pascale’s relief, no wedding or engagement ring. Together with the fact that she had never seen any men at the site except for family members and never saw another car in the driveway than Y/N’s, Pascale was convinced that Y/N was single. She knew Charles was too but not wanting to be too intrusive, she decided to just plant a seed between Charles and her new neighbour today and see it from there.

When she heard the deep sound of Charles’ Ferrari, Pascale told Y/N that her third son had arrived and that she would be right back. Y/N’s hands became sweaty. Ever since she found out Pascale was Charles’ mom, she had been dreading this moment. There was no turning back now though.

---- Flashback ----

When Y/N visited Pascale for the first time last winter, her eyes quickly landed on all the family portraits hanging on the wall. It were paintings of a family of five, probably made by her sons in preschool, and pictures of Lorenzo, Arthur and Charles in different periods of their lives. In the middle hung a beautiful black-and-white picture of her husband, Hervé, who sadly passed away when the kids were still little. “There has been no other man in my life ever since”, Pascale said, the love for her deceased husband still evident in her voice. Looking at the paintings and pictures, Pascale could not help but be proud of where her family was now. Arthur and Charles were professional athletes and Lorenzo was active in finance. Both Lorenzo and Arthur had a lovely girlfriend, the eldest already thinking about children. Charles, however, was less steady when it came to love. After two long-term relationships, Charles got a bit lost; it was not easy for Charles to maintain a relationship given his hectic and public life. Although Pascale was sceptical and warned her son many times – as there are always people who try to surf on other’s success –, it hurt her to see him like this, trying to erase the loneliness inside him with alcohol and volatile love. At the end of last season though, a little spark returned in Charles’ eyes. He did not disclose much to his mom, apart from that he met a girl in France whilst being out with Pierre and some other friends and that they were texting each other very often. She had not heard him talk about her since the new season started, so she assumed that she was just another fling.

“That’s Lorenzo, this is Arthur and that’s Charles. Aren’t they beautiful young men, Y/N?” Pascale asked.

“They are, Pascale, they are”, Y/N replied. She was still looking at the picture of Charles, all memories of last winter hitting her like a truck.

It was almost a year ago when Charles and Y/N met each other in a small café in the south of France. Charles was out with his friends, unwinding from the previous season and enjoying a short get-away to prepare for the upcoming winter testing. Y/N happened to be in Nîmes that week for work and that is how they met. She had been quite bold that afternoon, handing her number to Charles when she left the café, fully well knowing who he was. She never expected him to do something with it – he was one of world’s eligible bachelors after all – so she almost fainted when he called her the next day, saying how much he liked talking to her. They kept texting from that day onwards, throwing in the occasional FaceTime-call late at night. Despite the fact that they were both busy and lived in other countries, not a day passed without contact. Long story short, Y/N and Charles were falling for each other, hard.

Pierre did not stop teasing Charles about it, relieved to see his best friend happy again. The people at Ferrari knew that there was something going on, sensing that the fast laps Charles was setting were not only due to the changes to the car. His brothers noticed he was mentally somewhere else when he did no longer weep the floor with Arthur during their weekly tennis matches. The presence of Y/N in Charles’ life changed him, but in a good way. He was glowing.

Y/N grew fonder of Charles by the second; he was such a sweetheart. While she was not into F1 that much before she met him, she was learning about the sport and following the testing sessions in Bahrein, such that they could talk about it without her sounding like a complete and utter fool. She found a renewed motivation in her work, supported by Charles who was amazed by both her beauty and brains – and he told her that, every day. She got back into learning French such that she could – or, at least, try – to talk to Charles in his mother tongue. In return, he gave her cute, French nicknames that made her blush, which Charles found incredibly endearing. She was glowing.

However, when it hit Y/N that the F1 season would be starting soon, she started to think. She loved Charles, she was sure of that, but a long-term relationship would not work. She had her responsibilities at home and Charles would be busy travelling, training and racing - she had been in a similar relationship before and things ended badly. The media would focus more on him too after he finished 2nd in last year's championship, attracting the attention from (new) female fans. Not that Y/N was the jealous type or that she did not trust him, but she knew there are women out there who are better suited for Charles, beautiful women who are willing to make sacrificies. Women Charles deserves. Therefore, before Y/N would move to her new home and Charles would start the season, they met in Turin to talk about it all. Y/N told Charles about her sorrows and although he wanted to deny it, despite him wanting all her reasoning to be wrong, despite him wanting to tell her to listen to her heart instead of her head, he knew she was right. Therefore, Charles and Y/N used the rest of that week in Turin to feel what it could have been; they had date nights in cosy restaurants, strolled through the city, went on hikes together and made the sweetest love. After sharing one last kiss at the airport and promising each other to never forget what they shared, Charles and Y/N parted ways.

For good.

---- Present -----

Pascale swiftly disappeared to find her son. The local cover band Pascale hired was giving it all on the small stage and people were chatting away and enjoying the delicious pastries from the local bakery shop just a few blocks away. Y/N started mingling with Sebastien and Amélie, a young couple that was also relatively new to the neighbourhood.

Once he greeted everybody at the party, Charles was finally able to give his mom a proper hug. After a preach on how she does not see him enough and once made sure that he does take care of himself and eating enough, Pascale started updating him on all the latest gossip. Charles loves to gossip, especially with his mom because he loves how invested she is in it. After 20 minutes or so, when she decided she told Charles everything he needed to know, Pascale started to look around. She spotted Y/N a few tables further away, entertaining little Kasper. “I want you to meet our new neighbour, Charles. She is there with Kasper and Amélie. Come on.”

Although Charles did not know his mom’s new neighbour, he felt like he already did based on the stories Lorenzo and Arthur had been telling. From what he heard, she seems to be a lovely young woman. When he looked into the direction of little Kasper, he spotted her. She was wearing a white dress, which contrasted nicely against her bronzed skinned. Her hair was up in a messy bun, showing the delicate skin of her neck and shoulders. When he heard that the neighbours’ name was Y/N, his thoughts instinctively drifted back to his Y/N, his lost love, the woman whom he shared to best week of his life with. However, he never thought it would actually be her but now that he sees her, her petite frame, he knows it is her. The woman whose body he knows like the circuit of Monaco. The woman who still owns his heart. The woman he said goodbye to in Turin.

For good.

At least, that is what they both thought. Pascale gently taps Y/N on her shoulder. She turns around. “Y/N, I want you to meet my son Charles. Charles, this is Y/N, the new neighbour I told you about”.

Their eyes meet, for the first time in months.

Should they act as if they never met?

Should she tell him that she moved on?

Should he tell her that he has not?

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#f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc angst

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afeelgoodblog · 1 year

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The Best News of Last Week - March 27, 2023

🐢 - Why did the 90-year-old tortoise become a father? Because he finally came out of his shell!

1. New Mexico governor signs bill ending juvenile life sentences without parole

New Mexico Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham has signed a bill into law that prevents juvenile offenders from receiving life sentences without eligibility for parole. The bill, known as the No Life Sentences for Juveniles Act, allows offenders who committed crimes under the age of 18 and received life sentences to be eligible for parole hearings 15 to 25 years into their sentences.

This legislation also applies to juveniles found guilty of first-degree murder, even if they were tried as adults. The move puts New Mexico in a group of at least 24 other states and Washington, DC, that have enacted similar measures following a 2021 Supreme Court ruling.

2. Promising pill completely eliminates cancer in 18 leukaemia patients

An experimental pill called revumenib has shown promise in curing terminal leukemia patients who were not responding to treatment in a long-awaited clinical trial in the United States. The drug works by inhibiting a specific protein called menin, which is involved in the machinery that gets hijacked by leukemia cells and causes normal blood cells to turn into cancerous ones.

The pill targets the most common mutation in acute myeloid leukemia, a gene called NPM1, and a less common fusion called KMT2A. The US Food and Drug Administration granted revumenib "breakthrough therapy designation" to fast-track its development and regulatory review based on the promising results of the trial.

3. Spain passes law against domestic animal abuse

Spain has passed a new law on animal welfare, accompanied by a reform of the penal code that increases prison sentences for those mistreating animals. The law will make compulsory training for dog owners, and will prohibit them from leaving their dogs alone for more than 24 hours.

It also mandates the sterilisation of cats, with exceptions for farms, and increases the penalties for mistreatment of animals to up to two years in prison, or three years in the event of aggravating circumstances.

4. Bravery medals for women who raced into 'rough, crazy' surf to save drowning girls

Elyse Partridge (far left) and Bella Broadley (far right) raced into dangerous surf to save Chloe and Violet from drowning.(ABC North Coast: Hannah Ross)

Bella Broadley and Elyse Partridge saved two 11-year-old girls from drowning at Angels Beach near Ballina, an unpatrolled beach in Australia. The younger girls, Chloe and Violet, became trapped in a rip and overwhelmed by waves and the current. Bella and Elyse jumped into action, using an esky lid as a flotation device to help them swim to the girls. Elyse helped Chloe back to shore while Bella swam further out to help Violet.

Elyse and Bella were on Wednesday named on the Governor General's Australian Bravery Decorations Honours List, which recognised 66 Australians for acts of bravery.

5. Almost every cat featured in viral Tik Tok posted by Kansas City animal shelter adopted

Let's find homes for the rest

youtube

6. A 90-year-old tortoise named Mr. Pickles just became a father of 3. It's a big 'dill'

These critically endangered tortoises are native to Madagascar and have seen their numbers decline due to over-collection for illegal sales on the black market. Captive breeding programs have helped produce new radiated tortoises, but the species still faces extinction in the wild.

That's why the arrival of these hatchlings, born to 90-year-old Mr. Pickles and his 53-year-old partner Mrs. Pickles, is such great news. Mr. Pickles is considered the most genetically valuable radiated tortoise in the Association of Zoos and Aquariums' Species Survival Plan, and the births represent a significant contribution to the survival of the species.

7. EU strikes ‘ground-breaking’ deal to cut maritime emissions

The European Parliament and EU ministers have agreed on a new law to cut emissions in the maritime sector. The law aims to reduce ship emissions by 2% as of 2025 and 80% as of 2050, covering greenhouse gas, methane, and nitrous oxide emissions.

The European Commission will review the law in 2028 and will decide whether to place carbon-cutting requirements on smaller ships. The agreement will also require containerships and passenger ships docking at major EU ports to plug into the on-shore power supply as of 2030. Penalties collected from those that fail to meet the targets will be allocated to projects focused on decarbonising the maritime sector.

- - - -

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to share this post with your friends.

#best news of last week #Youtube

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bigmeatyflaps · 21 days

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The Palestinian women’s football team arrived in Dublin yesterday, May 12, ahead of their historic friendly match against the Bohemians set to take place on Wednesday.

Earlier in March, Bohemian Football Club confirmed that its women’s team will play Palestine in a historic friendly match in Dalymount Park. The match is set to take place on Wednesday, May 15, marking the 76th anniversary of Al Nakba, translated to “The Catastrophe”, which refers to the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians during the 1948 war.

All money raised from the event will be used to facilitate the visit of the Palestinian team, as well as provide funds to support humanitarian relief efforts and charity partners such as Palestine Sport for Life, Medical Aid for Palestinians and Aclaí Palestine. The game adds to Bohemian’s continued support of Palestine, which has been demonstrated through film and match screenings, fan displays, and funds raised for Sport for Life through sales of its 2023 away jersey.

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smolvenger · 4 months

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A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Nineteen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Series, A Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book: A Court of Mist and Fury. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: You complete your revenge.

Word Count: 7K (I REALLY wanted to get to the part at the end)

Warnings: mentions of sex, masturbation, and cheating (I portray the canon cheating in The Essex Serpent as bad and both Will and Cora deserving of punishment, and if you don't like that, don't read this), Supporting Women's Wrongs. Violence, Loki being Loki. Mentions of religion.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

On Wednesday, you went out with your mother to shop for Cora’s birthday present in the next larger town. There were times you both enjoyed going there for little outings more than the sleepy white and brown town by the seaside could afford. You stopped at the first boutique for women you found.

Clothes, yes, clothes would do for the gift. You recalled what she would wear. Grey coats and no corset when she was researching and running about. The grey dress for parties. You recalled the bright red dress that forever drenched your nightmares in infamy.

Women walked about with their hats and little purses dangling. Mother got into chatting with a shop-girl about what was on sale. The bell over the door would ring as shoppers entered and exited. Roses blossomed in vases amongst the goods. Walking about, you noticed several lacy gowns full of little ornaments on mannequins.

Not those dresses. Nothing with frills and feathers. Cora didn’t like that. She wouldn’t wear it. Your secret goal was to find the perfect attire, be it a dress or a coat or even a skirt or blouse that Mrs. Seaborne would not resist adorning. You had to keep looking.

Sometimes there was a slight hint of masculinity in what Cora wore….like Lady Sif... You did miss your trainer and somewhat friend- she had a heart beneath her sometimes aloof and brash nature…

Wait a minute- how hypocritical you were! Admiring Lady Sif and feeling embittered to Cora! Should you do this at all? No, no you had to gather yourself. Focus. You pushed the thought away to your mind.

It took some searching, but you managed to find your Trojan Horse for the gift. It was the perfect one for Cora. A new grey coat with no worn frays or signs of use. Just like the one she always wore. Practical, but not frumpy, comfortable, and subtly pretty. Only this one was new, freshly made with hardly any tears. Perfect for running about in the fields and forests and muck, searching for Serpents in the wood and the Serpent in your fiancee’s trousers.

You bought it at once. You both traveled right back home. Refreshing yourself with tea and sandwiches, you picked up your new package and brought it to your room. Taking out the coat from its box, you laid it down over your bed. A body, a ghost, a figure lying down in the realm of either death or sleep.

Cora, Cora, Cora, Mrs. Seabrone, the widow, her, her, her- The equal half of the pair that ruined your life. You had done your subtler strikes against Will. It was now time to strike against her.

You went to your desk. Getting out a journal, you tore out a blank scrap of paper.

Grabbing a pen, you wrote five words down in big, clear letters.

Once it dried, you folded it up.

The coat’s sleeves had two sides of the fabric. She wouldn’t see it if it was inside out. For it would be in the fabric itself.

You got out scissors, your needle, and grey thread. Then you cut open a hole in the sleeve. Folding the paper up carefully, you tucked it inside. Then you got your needle and thread and patched it back up so the scrap of paper was concealed inside the sleeve.

Yes, your powers could have done that. But you were determined to do it with your hands, with real effort- it was freeing, satisfying.

You then laid the dress back out.

You held out your hand. Concentrating harder than you ever did before with your magic gifts, you waved it over the coat.

The dress lay untouched, like normal.

You then retracted your hand.

Loki cut in.

'My pet, why didn’t you do that with your dear Lusty Vicar?'

' He never was ‘my’ vicar….why have him when I have a god and a prince as my husband instead?' you teased.

‘Well…I cannot blame you for that.’

You heard a small chuckle of his. You settled the dress back into the box.

' But…you are right, Loki! Will got all those letters, all the things that will come up to him. And there is one more thing I shall do to him. But it’s…it’s not like this. They were equal in this…so I should!'

The next day was conveniently a Thursday. The time Will went to the lake to pleasure himself over his mistress in the ocean or lake or stream or whatever body of water it was, as Loki confided to you. Or swim bare, as Will once confided to you in his times past. When you were so happy, in love, that as you smiled and looked at him in adoration, Will would only look at you with secret boredom and annoyance.

He was doing it again. He was bare. And if he was touching himself or swimming or both, it didn’t matter. He would be away from his house again.

That would be his mistake.

You hurried to the vicarage, not wanting to take your time before anyone could see you. You scurried up the stairs into his room. Finding his clothes where they were kept in his shelves and wardrobe. With every item, you placed your powers on each one. Each dark sweater you once smiled over, each white shirt you once lusted over, each tan coat hat made you stifle a giggle, every green vest, pants, down to one last sock.

Then, before he would finish, you hurried out and back. Not leaving a trace. You’d have to wait until Cora put her own on. But no matter what he wore, odds are, it would work.

It felt good. Deliciously good.

The next day, the church would be empty. You hurried to the little safe. Again, you took out some money. Again, you snuck it in your shoe. Again, you hurried home and put it in a blank envelope. Your magic that night would slip it under Cora’s doorstep. As you had your alibi of sitting in the parlor reading the Bible, you could do it while looking at Second Corinthians and not outside.

Consistency was key. The council and congregation had to realize there was a certain gap each week in what they pledged to give and what was recorded as then. Once they saw the gap that was Will’s responsibility and someone found that exact amount in Cora’s possession….no matter how much Will insisted on his innocence, there would be evidence.

And no one would suspect you. For you were now the “Miracle” woman. Seemingly blessed by God. No thoughts in your pretty head except becoming a rectory bride and nothing else.

The next morning, it hit you that you had to keep up appearances and then some. Since you were “blessed” by God, you would be a blessing. That would make them all like you even more.

When you first returned after the disaster that occurred with Grendel, you would walk about. Feeling like a shelled piece, your center torn out and thrown away. You would notice the looks on their faces. Once, they had a silent mixture of pity and disgust for you being “ruined.” But now, after the miracle, the suspicious town who thought anything and everything they saw was a part of something monstrous, magical, and greater than themselves be it in terror or awe… Now, they liked you.

And you had to make them like you even more.

You looked up at your parents at breakfast over your poached eggs.

“Oh! How are the Crawfords doing? I hear Mrs. Crawford is fond of flowers, may I go pick some for her?” you asked.

Your mother smiled approvingly, asking of the neighbors back home.

“With the Trickster god about, not in the woods! You must be careful, but you may buy some,” advised your mother.

With a smile, you went out, got to the flower shop, and bought a pretty bouquet of daffodils for Mrs. Crawford. You called on in time for tea and she cooed over the gift.

“Oh my- what a sweet girl you are, Miss Y/L/N!” she exclaimed.

She then revealed her hobby- collecting cookbooks and recipes.

“Oh- please tell me the recipe for making those little cakes, Mrs. Crawford! I’d like to surprise the Sunday School class for this week! Poor little dears, they deserve something nice!” you said.

She scribbled down the recipe that she learned from her mother, and then handed it to you.

For the next week, your free hours were spent building up a rapport. Patting children on the head, smiling at strangers, doing little acts of charity. It was better to stretch it out rather than pile it on thick in one go. It would seem natural.

One day, Martha, Mrs. Seaborne’s maid, was walking out with the widow’s little boy. In her pockets, there were pamphlets. You recognized it as from a magazine that was notorious in town for its liberality. He was doing his best to keep up with his chubby little legs, one tall arm reaching up to hold onto Martha’s. You stopped and greeted them like friends.

“Oh, hello there! Tell your mistress I cannot wait for the party! And how well he looks! What is his name?”

“Oh, hello there! And he- you have never been introduced! His name is Franklin, but we all call him Frankie,” explained Martha.

You bent your knees down to greet the little boy. Though you addressed him, his eyes would flitter anywhere but yours. They only flicked to you as you smiled, exuding warmth. Then you got back up to greet Martha. You asked her a little about the pamphlets. She rattled on about some bold, interesting, and brave ideas about slums and the treatment of the poor. So much, Frankie let go and was about to waddle away. She then gasped, out of her own spell, and gathered the boy back up.

“Already such a handsome lad! And so well-behaved!!” you cooed.

Martha bounced him a little and smiled at you.

“Perhaps you and the Reverend shall be blessed and there shall be a third in the vicarage soon!” Martha replied.

Loki’s voice rang in your head.

‘There better not be.’

You made sure to have such interactions with someone at least once a day. It was a little fun though. One benefit of being a clergy spouse was the opportunity to get to know others and do little acts of kindness for the community. To think, even before you were betrothed to Will, you could have done it. Done things like these for others, only with no plan behind it. Perhaps you would in Asgard.

You questioned Luke on his doings and said you would pray for him. You gave a beggar in town a few coins and he returned the favor by showing you an abandoned church. You told Mr. Banks to please stop drinking in excess and gave Mrs. Banks money for her pains. You smiled at grumpy old Mr. Cracknell despite his sneers. You gave flowers and gifts and cooked and baked for everyone- now they would all love you.

You once overheard two ladies smile at you. As you left, you heard their whispers- “She truly is a Blessed Lady!”

All would respect their miracle woman. See her as perfect for their Lusty Vicar. For his house and bed and ministry. At least, sweet and innocent. And at most- the Perfect Ideal of a Woman blessed by God Himself. And never suspect the secrets inside you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The evening arrived for Cora’s birthday party. You put on a nice dress of velvet and navy blue. This was partially for Stella, so even if it wasn’t the bohemian style your friend had a weakness for, it still was apt you should don her color. As you continued to get ready, you found your hands shaking as you put on your last bit of jewelry.

Gathering your gift placed in a box and wrapped up in ribbon, you headed to her house. Arriving at the front door, you lifted your hand to knock. Part of you hesitated. Your hand floated above in a trembling mess, curled and crumpled, as if to squeeze yourself into reality.

The old hesitation seeped in like tea levees in a forgotten cup of water, one that was once boiling and now grew tepid with each passing second. Should you do this? The coat was already in your hands, too late to be ungiven…should you just give it to her like a decent person and not use its magic? Should Cora be punished?

What if your father was right, and it was just “silly jealousy”?

Were you just bitter about Cora’s rejection of traditional feminine norms? Did it shock you to the point where you were upholding traditions blindly? Criticizing her for being an unfeminine woman? Feeling anger in her brashness and her boldness, because you projected your insecurities on her unfairly? You felt in your soul women should be considered equal to men….yet here you were, your heart turned against another woman! An unfeminine woman! An unconforming woman! Must you be a hypocrite and tear her down?

Not to mention her past. Cora’s husband hurt her and beat her. What a nightmare that must have been!

That was one odd similarity between you both- you loved two men, two cruel men- Mr. Seaborne and Will. And while Will never once raised his hand to hurt you, he didn’t have to.

And it must have been uneasy- having one little son who it was rumored was an “odd” child. And part of you…admired her wanting to pursue a passion, of bravely entering a male-dominated field, and wondered at the discrimination she must have experienced…

Your mind was reeling as you knocked on the door.

The maid, Martha, opened it. She greeted you kindly. “Ah there! Miss Y/L/N! Welcome in! Cora- come quick! Miss Y/L/N has arrived! And she has a gift!”

As Martha stepped aside, you came into the warmth of the house. A fire was crackling and there was chatter in the next room. You took a deep breath to steel yourself, as Cora walked to greet you. Donned in slightly fancier attire and her usual grey.

“Oh- hello there. Welcome in,” she greeted with a smile. Her voice a low mezzo.

You walked in and presented the present.

“For you, happy birthday Mrs. Seaborne,” you replied with a kind smile, despite your stomach churning. Perhaps you should just leave it, not enact what you set up inside, and let it alone.

Martha dutifully took the present and left. Cora went up to you with a smile.

“How glad you could be here! I hope I can call you my good friend, Miss Y/L/N,” she said.

Your senses reached out and could feel something in the pocket of her dress.

It was a letter she was going to send tomorrow morning.

A love letter to Will.

You felt your jaw and fists become tight.

“Oh, thank you! Please excuse me- I’m going to get something to drink,” you excused.

Promptly turning around, you began to walk over, your head spun for a bit. You found the dining room did have some red punch. Guests chatted with each other, ignoring you. You made yourself drink slowly. You urged your breathing to slow despite your racing heart and mind.

She called you her friend to your face, yet had the audacity to continue to pursue the man about to be your husband!

You took another sip. You felt some of the cold punch dribble on your mouth. You grabbed a napkin and wiped it. The little red drops look like blood on the crumpled cloth.

You then made up your mind about her. It didn’t matter if she pursued science or housewifery, it didn’t matter if she wore corsets or refused them. It didn’t matter who she was or what she liked. And it especially didn’t matter what happened in her past.

Even if it all explained why…in no way could you excuse or condone her actions.

If Will had forced himself on Cora if he lied about you to her… there would be nothing to forgive. She would be a victim as much as you.

But that’s not what happened.

A thought began in you, growing, spinning around in your mind in its quiet, angry, bitter delirium.

She knew Will wasn’t free…and she did it anyway…

And for that, Cora would receive punishment. There was no regret in your systems now. You would enact the gift when the time was right.

It even made you more motivated to enact the next part of your plan here- one seed was planted when Martha carried that present away. Now you had to figure out where to send the next letter. You were glad you remembered. Even if the present didn’t work- you would at least figure out where to send the letter.

But for now, you had to calm yourself. Take deep breaths and take note of the current moment.

A small group of people were gathered in the parlor. Saying you felt better after getting a little dizzy, you went over to meet them. You took note of those you knew. There was Mr. Charles and Mrs. Katherine Ambrose. A couple that lived close to Will. They were looking forward to having you as neighbors. They already viewed you as such as you went up to greet them. Charles shook your hand excitedly.

“How good to see the lady of Reverend Ransome! How is he today?” he asked.

Ransome…that was an odd name. Once you would have loved and now…how hollow it felt. Empty. It was going to be Stella’s name in another lifetime if it wasn’t you. Ransome- like the word “ransom”. Which meant to hold someone as their prisoner. To trap. There was a second meaning to the word to. And also the bargaining, the deal. The money paid would set prisoners free. So you would have been ransomed to be a Ransome and in need of a Ransom. Perhaps others would see the second meaning if you married him and lived a life of lies in that tall, white vicarage.

Only you knew which meaning it would take on for you or Stella had either of you married Will.

“He’s lovely. Said hello to us after everything he did. He was busy as a bee today- helped a farmer whose sheep broke out into the field. Then he was off to scold Mr. Banks about his crudeness over tea and biscuits,” you reported.

Katherine promised to indulge you in secrets of marriage and housewifery, gathered in gossip and recipes, and should the time come, child-rearing. You smiled and listened to her.

A few others trickled in. Luke you recognized was finger-combing his short hair. All sipping on drinks and biting off bits of treats before dinner of roast lamb.

As you sat down to the little main course you saw Martha bouncing along Frankie. Cora turned her head to the maid, nanny, and now it seemed, a cook too.

“Martha, make sure Frankie is in his bed by now, please.”

“Oh, of course, Miss,” Martha replied.

Cora turned around and began to pour out small glasses of wine for everyone. But you found yourself looking at Martha.

You took note of the look on Martha’s face. She hadn’t left but was staring at Cora. Lovingly, full of longing, blushing cheeks and soft eyes with a little smile…she hesitated before she turned and left.

Part of you was a little shocked. You were surprised- you knew your husband liked both men and women, so you shouldn’t be so shocked. It was the kind that took you by complete surprise and made you a little worried for her. But you looked down on your plate of dinner and ignored it, pretending like you didn’t see as you began to take nibbles off your side dishes.

Excusing himself, Luke turned around to leave for the parlor. Everyone gave little looks in confusion. Then he returned with a bouquet full of red roses. People gave little gasps, smiles, and the little laughter of delighted surprise, except for the birthday lady. She sat up, her posture rigid and her small eyes darkening, her round face still pale.

He knelt and gave the bouquet to Cora in a flourish.

“Roses for your birthday, our dear Cora! In addition to the present!” he declared.

But the object of this grand gesture did not change one bit in her face or body.

“Oh…thank you, they’re very nice,“ Cora replied politely. She took the flowers, set them aside, and continued eating. All as she did, he smiled big and tried to pay compliments, but she ignored him.

Oh, good grief! Was every person in town in love with Cora!? Did she have admirers popping in everywhere to swoon over her!?

Then again, it would cause a rift in your plans. For the third letter you had already decided that you would leave it in church where a member of the congregation would pick it up. You would have to take note of where Luke and Martha sat in church. If they discovered the letter, heartbroken as they would be, they wouldn’t tell a soul. Especially Martha considering this was her employer!

It then hit you…everyone loved Cora. Everyone owned up to Cora and offered their hearts. She had her pick of anyone in town, any soul…

And she chose your fiancee.

She knew he wasn’t free…and she did it anyway. The thought emerged again.

They began to talk. Soon there was a two-layered cake delivered. It had a coating of white buttercream that seemed delicious on the outside, but the inner cake was bitter and stale to your tongue. Yet the others greedily devoured the pieces anyway, only wiping away the cream on their mouths with napkins.

You reached your powers out. You found her room, her desk, her letters. Where was it- where was it? There were letters. Of course, the love letters from Will. But nothing- she must have already sent things! Oh, you couldn’t find anything! Was it hopeless? Should you plant two letters in the church?

But then, right before you could search further….a miracle occurred.

“I only wish to have more evidence. Mr. Sawyer of the Royal Institution was interested. He wished to see my notes on the fossils. Though it appears I will have to give him a hypothesis that he considers ‘great’ enough. That’s what I wish for my birthday,” Cora sighed.

“Do not fret, but keep at it. They will listen soon!” encouraged Katherine.

You took note as you delicately ate. Remembering the name. Etching it into your mind to be reached again.

You bore the rest of the party patiently, then said you were tired and excused yourself. The Ambroses cooed saying that the little parsonage bride would indeed need it in her excitement for the upcoming day. They escorted you back home.

The next day, you stopped at the library. You found the address of the Royal Institution of London, copying it down onto a piece of paper.

Once you got home from the party, you got out an envelope. You got out the second love letter, the “come quickly” letter being tucked in your bookshelf for Sunday.

The second love letter you placed in an envelope.

You then got out another piece of paper.

“Dear Mr. Sawyer, I have some unfortunate news regarding Mrs. Seaborne. I found this letter in the possession of Reverend Ransome, who is already engaged to a Miss Y/L/N. She is not of character fitting for your halls of science. Sincerely, Anonymous.”

Scurrying out, you sent it out to be mailed.

Now you only had to wait for Church. Use your senses to note where people sat. Then you’d plant the last letter.

Saturday Afternoon, no one would be there. You crept inside. Your senses reached out, feeling who sat where. You took note of where Martha and Luke sat. Even the Amrbose’s too, for they were fond of their neighbor and if they discovered the letter, wouldn’t talk. Martha liked the far left in the corner. Luke enjoyed the fourth in the middle from the door. The Amroses took the second pew to your left.

You got out one of the red, sturdy books of common prayer that sat there. Often there were pamphlets with the service order planted in the books. You picked a spot where none of Cora’s allies would sit. From your coat’s pocket, you got out the letter. The “come quickly” letter. The one that would shock and damn the most, for you had to get it to where it would reach more people.

You planted the letter inside the book. To make it, Will left it there by accident. A letter too juicy for anyone to resist or just leave.

Sunday morning, you delivered the little baked cakes for the children. and set it aside in the kitchen. They all cheered and gobbled them up, uttering thank you’s. You were immediately becoming a favorite to them. They went up and asked questions until they had to be corralled to learn about Mary and Matha. But even the old lady who taught them couldn’t resist one. She picked up a warm cake, sniffed it, and you saw her shoulders sag after she took a bite.

You went to the front row of the church. This was all normal. What was always done, despite your racing heart. You didn’t dare check your senses to feel when the moment happened. It would make you too anxious.

As people filtered through, if they didn’t find interest to go chatting with the miracle woman, you took note. Even during the service, your back turned to see all of them.

Finally the organ blared and it began again. You then returned to the service to look with pretend adoration at Will for one hour. In his white robes with a blue-green sash with gold ornaments, he stood before the crowd a the sanctuary. The bright, sunny day letting a bright light over the brown church.

“For our announcements, in just a month, we shall have our rescheduled wedding. We hope that those invited shall be available to join. And then, my dear Miss Y/L/N shall make me the happiest of men.”

You took note of those little wooden chandeliers. The cloudy, grey overcast day rather than a sunny one, their wicks were dry and unlit.

And he was standing right under one in the middle as he spoke on.

‘Do it, my dear,’ Loki whispered to you.

You made one of the unlit candles on the chandelier shake. Wriggling.

‘Fall’ you ordered it through your magic.

It then tipped over the side where Will remained for the announcements. There were a few gasps, and before he knew why-

PLUNK! The candle hit him right on his curly, auburn head.

He jumped his white sleeves up to his head with a noise he made out of pain. It wasn’t enough of a fall to do him any real harm, only a bit of pain.

The congregation burst into laughter. As did you. For all the tension inside of you, it was much needed.

The service began and then ended. When you checked it the next day…it was taken. You let out a smile, a deep breath through your system. A member of the congregation had “happened” upon the letter and took it. And likely read it. How could they not? Small places need entertainment. The content was far too shocking, too entertaining, too scandalous for someone in a small town not to read.

And they would do what people in a small conservative and religious town with nothing else to do did.

They would talk.

Then Mr. Brown would tell Mr. Miller would tell Mrs. Miller who would then tell the baker who would whisper it to his daughter and she would tell all of her friends at tea time and then one would tell Ms. Price and Ms. Price would tell Mrs. Banks who would tell Mr. Banks who would tell his drinking buddy Mr. Plume who would tell old Mr. Cracknell who would complain about it to Mr. Charles Ambrose who would then tell his wife Katherine. And by then Katherine wouldn’t talk and swear to secrecy about her neighbor but it would be too late because the silent melodrama behind everyone’s backs was already in its run.

The next two days, you could sense it. There was sadness, a pity on people’s faces as you greeted them. There was some hesitation when they talked- but they were even kinder to you than before.

When they interacted with Will, you noticed a cold politeness. One woman, after he left, crossed herself as if she met a demon. Some people seemed silently furious at Cora. Glaring at her.

The rumors started to circulate at last. The sweet virtuous, wonderful bride. The miracle bride. The bride who was blessed by God himself…only to suffer as it seemed her vicar was being tempted. The devil moving him to deny his oath before God. An oath he was ready to make before all of them. An oath already broken.

And you were now the figure of pity- poor, sweet Y/N! The bride God blessed! Now thrown away! What was he thinking?

So it would make the last three steps of your plan fall into place.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was Wednesday and Will was going to be here for dinner. Your mother rolled up her sleeves and began to cook away. You promised to wipe down every surface clean and sweep the steps outside. As you stepped out with a broom, you looked out at the front. Nervousness tightening your chest.

It was time to enact the next step. Part of you hesitated to do this.

But Will would be here tonight. It was the right time it would work- a time after he left when rumors were running high.

And if you did, then everything would start falling into place. You just had to gather your courage to do it.

You set your hand before the door.

This is going to hurt him more than it shall hurt me, you thought as a comfort.

You waved your hand over the front of your house at the door. Concentrating hard.

Nothing happened. Not yet. It was all coming into place. You swept with more of a flourish.

Once you had finished your errands, you saw your mother hurry out.

“What is the matter?” you asked.

“Oh, apples! I forgot! There is a new shop here with orchards from farmers! This fellow, Mr. Armstrong grows the finest apples! I forgot to buy some- I must be back in time to finish supper!” she chatted, putting on her hat as she scurried away.

It wasn’t long before she hurried and set the apples in a bowl. Though you insisted on being there to help with dinner. You had to learn to cook for your husband, you said. Preaching works up an appetite.

Another dinner, another evening like no other. Will got up a napkin and wiped the sauce off of his goatee before he continued. He reached a hand to hold yours, though it felt like a grip on you. Your mother cut everything into bits taking small bites. Your father devoured his plate within a minute.

Will looked over you, his eyes as soft as a lamb.

“I must keep you in my prayers now- and will help you. The council who appointed me- The Reverend Eckheart, Moore, and Bishop Green shall be here. And you shall pray the council meeting goes well, yes?”

“Of course, love,” you replied with a small voice.

The council meeting. He thought they would sip tea and discuss theology. How little did they know…a man who the town thought an attempted murderer, rumored to be unfaithful, with evidence of him giving money from the church to his mistress. A woman who was probably by now exposed as a ruined woman to the largest and most prestigious institution of science.

Part of you wanted to wait longer to see it all happen.

Everyone then gathered to be by the fire in the parlor to read for a minute as dinners settled. A domestic, normal scene.

Will then announced he would leave. He shook hands with your parents and embraced you and kissed you on the cheek. It almost pained you- a glimpse of what could have been. Even of what was.

You were scared to enact your step. But you wanted your revenge more. You would not let your mind run wild- you would act rather than dwell. It was now or never.

He left, closing the door.

You waited, counting the time. You turned back to your knitting in the parlor. Your heart raced. You could sense him there already walking.

You took in a deep breath. Remembering the mantra.

“This shall hurt him more than it shall hurt me.”

Sitting down to your needlework, you turned your head away. You urged the magic on the front side of the house as he began to walk away.

‘Go alight now,’ you ordered.

It complied.

From outside of the front door, a fire grew. It’s smoke spread. You turned your head down and began to knit as if not noticing it. For surely the Miracle Woman was only attending her womanly needles per her duty as a wife to the church!

Then there was smoke in the parlor.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” shouted your father. Your mother screamed. And you screamed with her in your planned terror.

Mother pulled all of you out of the back door before any of you could be hurt.

Neighbors ran out, pulling out to make a makeshift fire department.

“Fire! There’s a fire! Fire at the Y/L/N house!”

Will, with what little decency in his holy heart he had, hurried back to see the damage. You wailed out tears and clung to him like any sensible damsel in distress.

The neighbors hurried with buckets of water, and Will helped. Instead, you leaned on your mother, hugging her and crying, shaking it out per the innocent little victim. The Harris’s got wind and ran out, and soon the fire was silent by the water people managed to get out and toss at it. Even before it could creep in and destroy the place or hurt any of you.

But the front door and area were charred some, there was no denial about that.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you all! How frightening!” you said, tears streaming down your face like the little ingenue you pretended to be. You smiled at each one.

“Don’t worry, we promise, you’re safe now!” assured Mrs. Banks. From her white shawl, she reached out a hand to squeeze your shoulder.

“Why…what happened? There were no lamps, no candles there, nothing that could be alight!” your father wondered.

“Hm, looks like it started in the front,” Mr. Harris noted.

“There was nothing there! Could it be an accident? Oh- to think the house nearly burned down! How horrible!” you would cry, shivering like a doe in a rainy forest. Perfect for him to wrap his arms around, the image of a victim and now the one who began it.

“What happened before?” asked Mrs.Harris in concern.

“Oh, nothing! Reverend Ransome came by to visit, he just left. Then it occurred!” your mother reported. “We shall be fine, just careful! Just some charring in the front- nothing big!”

People would wonder. But you felt their eyes on him.

By the next morning, You knew the rumors would turn.

They already knew of the rumor of the affair. Now…with nothing else but the fire…

Someone tried to kill you, kill their precious miracle woman. There was nothing that could have caught fire by accident and it was started from the outside.

By someone who must have been out.

And it was Will who was there and was seen just outside and left right as it began.

The talk would turn.

Did he want to…kill his fiancee, the beloved darling YN, the miracle woman who emerged from Loki blessed by God? Why…then that made it even worse!

Moods would turn against him. Bad. People were polite, but their eyes would soften at you. Poor, pitiful Y/N! If this happened- then the Lusty Vicar was a Lusty Scoundrel! They frowned but kept polite. Oh, if only some act of God would happen to set him and his little tart in their place.

But one act was on the way. The last step in your plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Three days passed. And each morning you checked your senses to see where Cora was. It made you nervous. Your heart racing.

Then one morning, you woke up in the early dawn again. Your parents were still asleep. You could only wrap a shawl around you. Though the golden and emerald wedding ring remained on your desk. You fit it around your finger. Not too loose to fall off, but not too tight to squeeze it.

Stomach rumbling, you could only sip on a little coffee. Picking an apple from the bowl, you took a bite of it. Tasting the juices that tickled down your throat and crunched like bones in your mouth.

Your senses alerted you. Cora was wearing the new coat. She was in the marshes, in the woods.

Now. Now. Now! You urged. It was finally time. Time you would go home.

You got a letter left on your desk. You wrote it before and would leave it planted. Explaining that you loved Loki, you married him already, and that you were going to reside in Asgard already with him. Especially to fight Grendel. And that Stella once she was healed would be returned home too.

Then you set off. Your heart raced as you went through the woods in only your nightgown and shawl as you hunted Cora’s path like a predator.

Your thoughts reached out to Loki.

'Listen to me! It’s almost time!' you cried. 'Hm, yes my dear, time for what? I do prefer specifics,’

'Loki-I’m going to complete the last part of my revenge. Then I am about to give a signal. When I do- open a portal. And take me home to Asgard, Please!'

'Oh, anything for you,’ he agreed.

You caught your breath. Beneath the dirt had gotten on your little slippers. On the bottom of your skirt.

It was a similar scene. There in the chill woods where the birds sang about and an owl hooted over his night’s hunt. The little mist. The light wind made it cooler. You had known it before. And you would not stop to pick flowers anymore.

You were so familiar with this, this dream, this nightmare, this dance where you could recall each step.

So when you went behind a tree and turned to the field, the sight shouldn’t have shocked you.

Will and Cora. Her in the new grey coat and him again undone in his shirt and tan coat. The same scene again.

You thought you were strong, a brave person, thought you could take it, chew it, devour it, and digest and it shouldn’t bother you, it shouldn’t have…but…You felt the cold shocks, the electricity made with ice running down you. Pat of your vision blurry, making yourself small. Feeling small.

This time, Will placed his green scarf over Cora.

They talked a little bit. You couldn’t hear their words. Only small. Romantic.

He grabbed the long end and gently tugged it over so she would be close to him.

The exact same tug that he did at your skirt not long ago.

Yes, you were crying, small tears down. Your breathing faster and your mind whirring. Yes, you were shaken just like the girl you were before. Your mind was stricken with panic to where it wasn’t clear. You knew it would happen- yet why did it hurt again? You felt almost on the cusp of panicking, collapsing. Your failure and imperfections there in your soul, twisting like a knife to your chest. Your thoughts strangling you.

‘I’m not good enough, I’m not good enough, I’m not good en-’

‘You are good enough, Y/N Darling, you are to me,’ Loki cut in.

His voice broke out. You felt calmer.

You hid behind a tree. And waited. For whatever conversation, be they talking with their mouths or sticking each other’s private bits up the others, would be done.

You were different now- and this time, you had everything in place. You were not going to run. Fury was building in you. Ready to explode, run, scream. Yet you kept silent.

'Loki…keep me calm, steady, please…'

'Yes, my love- you are brave. You’re a brave, wonderful, clever woman. I love you, Y/N. You are my True Love, my wife, and my princess. I love you so much.',/em>

'I love you too.'

'Is that the signal?'

'No…I’m waiting for them to stop…'

You looked back.

Cora was alone now. Will must have walked off to the woods or fields or wherever. No scarf around her neck. The mantra repeating in your mind.

"She knew he wasn’t free. She did it anyway.”

Your eyes glared at her. You stepped a little out to see clearly. Though she was in the distance and you must have been just a figure, at most a phantom. Her small eyes down on the ground and a blush on her cheeks, nothing in her blonde hair streaked with red but her lover.

You kept your eyes focused and took a breath as you lifted your hand. Letting your anger run cold.

“She knew he wasn’t free. She did it anyway.”

You let that phrase be your guide as you pointed with a finger.

With a breath, you got out your magic. Urging it to tear the sleeve open from the outside.

After she did, she went up to glance at you.

Cora felt something off, feeling it funnily on her arm. She reached inside. Then her nose crinkled at feeling something. Then she got out the scrap of folded paper. Curiously, she took it out. She unfolded it and flipped it over to the side with words.

You stepped out of the tree. You gathered your face to be still, your body still. Only a woman in a bridal-white nightgown staring calmly at her, only your eyes showing what anger you held in your heart.

You waited until her tiny, scrunching eyes saw the phrase you had written. For just one second to pass for her to process it.

One second to react. To look up. To see you in the woods, the paper shaking in her hand.

It read:

“Mrs. Ransome sends her regards”

In a heartbeat, flicked your wrist, triggering the magic on the coat.

The coat burst into flames and Cora with it.

Your senses alerted you that Will was some distance in the field, praying. Wearing his coat- one that you cursed.

With a flick of your wrist, you let it burst into flames too.

It was poetic. Stella’s suicide attempt would have been a death of water. So it seemed fitting that theirs should be fire.

You turned around. You would not watch to see if Cora survived.

It didn’t matter.

As you walked into the woods, you heard her. The high-pitched, womanly, tormented scream of Cora Seaborne.

You smiled a little as you walked further and away.

62 notes · View notes

bloodandthestars · 8 months

Text

𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄.

priest!suguru geto x fem!reader. a part of JUDAS, a kinktober drabble series.

tw: talks on religion, smoking :: edit: UPDATED

wc: 2k :: masterlist :: previous part

Sunday went as smoothly as he’d mull over in his head. The sermon was made to be a continuation of the previous one: where to find strength through God in the path of life’s obstacles. With Suguru moving voice and emphasis, the communion consumed and praised Him to be.

Wednesday rolled around, and it was a night of Bible study but more importantly, the potluck everyone was waiting for. Mrs. Kaskai and a few other church women set the picnic tables outside in the courtyard, her husband getting the lights to work around wooding postings. Mr. Weren brought propane for the grill, excited to be cooking ribs he had marinating in the church’s kitchen for a week now. With the Father’s help, they worked together as one to make it all happen for their community.

Suguru clicks a spoon to his glass to gather everyone’s attention. It was once simple click and heads turned without a second wasted. Children were hushed to soft murmurs and babbles, and all eyes were on him. Like they always were. And as always, he presented himself with a smile.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that the food we have here today isn’t like any other. Practically have a few five start chefs among us.” The crowd laughs heartily.

“The effort is seen and worth appreciating, especially with the succession of the bake sale!” Claps and cheers could be heard all around, including the father’s. They simmer down for him to continue. “It’s worth the celebration, so here we are, to bless and be blessed. Let us bow our heads.”

Small groups crowed around the food tables to get their pieces. As Suguru gives a nod of gratitude for Mr. Everest putting some on his place, he glances down to the array of foods. Each with their own signed cards of what was made and by who. His eyes glance over the varied names. His steps slow as they narrow in concentration, wanting to be sure he was seeing things correctly. A dark chocolate cake sat in front of him, with your name signed at the bottom. Did you come through here already? How come he didn’t see you?

He glances around, searching for your face in the crowd. When he came up empty-handed, the priest moves to allow the line to flow again.

The night went on as lively as ever, talking with each smiling patron after the next. He’d smile back, laugh with their jokes, but feel as though he was much farther from everyone than he really was. His words were half-hearted at best. Every now and then his glance takes him outward, looking to his surroundings. After the third or maybe fourth glance around, he eyes figure sitting on top of the hood of a car. A figure he’d recognize from his distracting thoughts.

“Are you alright, Pastor?”

He nods, blinking himself back into conversation with an older woman and her daughter. “Yes, my apologies.”

Those eyes wonder about again after the reassurance was made. Suguru knew the real answer to that question, and the one thing he could do to fix it.

The church parking lot only had about four street lights. You were under one of them, sitting atop your car, with a scent that he knew as clear as day. He shouldn’t approach you. If you looked like you wanted to be left alone, the result would have been just that. But his dress shoes keep their path, walking in your direction. Your head turns when you seemed to notice him approaching. Eyes glance at him up and down, he surely wasn’t mistaken on that. “Evening, Father.”

He greets you back with a mention of your name. Glancing away, he catches how you has a good view of everyone in the courtyard. Looking back, he asks. “Not one for these kinds of things?”

You blow out smoke to the side with a scrunch of your lips. “Not particularly.”

“May I ask why?”

Your smile feels like fingers crawling up his back. “Aren’t you off the clock, Father? No need to try and pull a confession.”

A warmth spreads on his cheeks, causing him to look away with an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m only teasing you.”

What you pull from your pocket causes Suguru’s mouth to dry. A pack of cigarettes with a slight dent at the top. You pop open the carton, pulling out a stick. You look to the pastor, who watches your hands until he catches your gaze on him. It’s like you’re getting even worse for him to ignore— trading one slight for another.

He nods his head in your direction and you give him the pack. He hears the flicker of a lighter as he puts a cigarette on the trim oh his mouth. It parts, about to ask you for the light, until he feels something grab his shirt. Suguru looks up to catch the end of your cigarette with yours. Your eyes focus on making sure his lights, while his eyes can’t seem to turn away from your face. Not when you were so, so close. His heart picks up in light patters, hoping— praying, it was masked in his breathing.

He could only find himself to relax just as you finished lighting. You pull your head back, hand holding your sitting firm up from behind. Suguru leans his weight against the car with his back to you, entirely quiet.

There he was swirling in a spiral of water that never seemed to end. Why did you do that? The lighter was right there. He was just on the brink of being swallowed whole in your proximity. If only you ate a bit more.

He pulls the cigarette from his lips with shaky hand, blowing smoke off to the side. The silence remained so, but surprisingly to him, his shoulders begin to slack. His exhales become heavier as they roll out every stress of just that week. All in the intimate quiet you two shared.

“I suppose this was a much needed break.” He speaks up behind another inhale. You let your cigarette hang off your mouth as you glance to him. “Even you need breaks from all that religious zeal, Father?”

You were teasing him, he caught on it this time. Suguru laughs quietly, letting smoke follow after. "Of course I need a break," He replied. "As the head of this community, I feel responsible for everyone's well-being. Sometimes it's difficult to look after so many people at once.”

You both took a drag from your cigarettes. Your eyes look to the sky, watching as your smoke dissipates. Once again, you felt yourself be honest on holy ground. “I can’t imagine having to listen to them. Trying to solve every problem they have with a book older than the earth itself.”

Suguru didn’t know if he was supposed to take offense or not. But you weren’t exactly wrong. He knew how the people in the congregation operate. “People don't realize how much they project onto these ancient scriptures," Geto replied, nodding his head in agreement. "They don't consider the context of when they were written and how it may apply to their own situation."

He took another deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke. You slight your head in agreement. "Some people love to rely on something outside of themselves to tell them how to feel and how to live, I suppose."

What was that that felt like a wound in his chest? Pride?

“You don’t exactly sound like a believer.” He huffs.

“Neither do you.”

Something twists in his stomach. The same feeling of having your hand caught in the cookie jar as a child. He lashed his head to you, you and your calm expression that gives him even more whiplash. You shrug, pulling the tobacco tab from your lips. “Promise,” You finger traces an X over your chest. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Suguru catches your witty smile. Another tease, at least he had hoped with the hard swallow down his throat. Still, you did manage to get an amused exhale out of him.

“I…” He begins, only for his eyes to fall to the ground. His words change. “I just see things a bit differently than some of them.”

“Well?”

The pastor takes a quick inhale. "I believe a priest should listen to the scripture and offer guidance where needed, but also try to instill their own values and morals into the teachings."

You arch your brow. “That just seems…normal.”

He took the cigarette from his mouth, holding it in one hand as he leaned his back against the car further. "Some members think that's a blasphemous way of looking at it," he added. "That I'm perverting their precious lessons."

He laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"I say, what's so blasphemous about using your own brain?"

Your brows quirk together, turning your head to the lively scene ahead of you both. “I didn’t know there were some in your congregation that find you that way.”

"I've learned a lot about my own congregation," He explained. "The members who are devout to the scripture are very sensitive to my every action. Any perceived flaw is bound to become a rumor in these circles."

Suguru paused, taking another drag. "Thankfully, I've managed to build up a good reputation within this community."

He glances over at you, eyes doing a once over before speaking. “To which you seem all the more distant from.”

You scoff, a cloud of smoke harshly pushed onto the air. You take your eyes back to the lively scene. The children playing in the grass, the sun setting behind the fumes of a grill. Chatter and booming laughter. It all seemed perfectly cut out for a holiday card. “I’m doing all this for my mother.” You murmur. “And I know when I don’t belong somewhere.”

He looks back to the ground. Those words sounded like ones that were temporary. He hoped not but the idea of you being here permanently didn’t seem too right.

A nudge of his neatly dressed shoulder snaps him out of his thoughts. His head bounces up to look at you. You were already half way down your cigarette when you talk. “Speaking of…you should go back.”

Maybe those words were his saving grace. A holy light appearing in the confusing darkness, perhaps a blessed creature creating a path to redemption. A way for his thoughts to distance themselves from your consumption. Perhaps your words were a moment of actual divine intervention.

"I think I'll stay with you." He states, almost confidently. “I…enjoy your company.”

The ends of your lips quirk up. Your hand pats a spot next to you on the hood of the car. Suguru looks between before obliging. Once he gets himself situated, he sees the view that she has of the social event. The congregation was in bursts of small groups. There was one person however, going from one group to the next with a slight of urgency. That group looks between each other, one straying off to act like the first— questioning and questioning. Suguru only let out a sigh, not a doubt in his mind what they were looking for.

You notice, turning your head to look at him. Huffing, you throw your finished cigarette on the gravel. He reluctantly goes to stand, running a hand through his hair as your hand pulls another cigarette. You place it at your lips. “Seems that’s your-“

That evening air beginning to settle in seemed long forgotten. You’re frozen in place as you’re met with his cigarette lighting the end of yours. His hands were placed on either side of you on the sleek hood. Suguru stood still between your legs to ensure that it would light— that he wouldn’t throw up his own heart. He simply just— moved. Jumped at the opportunity when it was clear for him. His tab was much shorter than when yours in the beginning of your smoke session, making your faces all the more closer. He could feel your breath tickle his face, just as still as he was. His eyes slowly look up to yours, that have been staring at him this whole time. The look within them changes. One that makes his throat too dry to speak.

“Careful there, Eve.”

tags: @getousrep

#writing #priest au #priest!geto #priest!suguru #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto x reader #big one woaaaaa. pls be patient the nasty is coming

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