#computer science wasn’t any better

[synthetic-rust]

Kinda sad to think about, but I wonder if I’d have been more likely to get into engineering type stuff if sexism wasn’t a thing…

Like no one’s ever stopped me from doing things like that, but I’d still say to myself in my head that I would be out of place for doing it for whatever reason :[

It’s weird tho, cause in most other areas of life I don’t usually give a damn about gender expectations and all that, but in the subject of technology I still ended up feeling like It’s not something I should pursue.

Been trying to remove that kind of thinking from my head, but it’s hard sometimes. It gets a bit lonely feeling like an exception to things rather than being welcomed.

—

As a sort of extension to what I’m talking about, I’ve noticed that people like to say things that are progressive in one way or another, but then will still silently operate on principles that reflect the opposite (because of societal influence).

This isn’t something I’m exempt from, and no one truly is because of how social we are as a species, but I do wish more people were able to let themselves do without it and stop limiting themselves and others more often.

In that regard I still often feel lonely existing as a girl that doesn’t buy into the things we’re so often silently and not so silently pushed into doing. There are a lot of things that I feel some kind of pressure to participate in despite my disinterest. Mostly because I feel like I become more of an outsider within my gender for not doing them.

(Btw, I’m not exactly the most cis girl, but what I’m talking about here notably calls upon that kind of experience 👍)

#I hope this is coherent enough #mild vent? #vent #sexism #patriarchal society #girls in stem #chatter #very random topic for me to suddenly divulge but I feel like this is somewhat normal for my blog at this point #(._. ‘’) #I never did any engineering classes likely because of the reasons above #I know I’m not alone in thinking this #I was like 1 of maybe 2 or 3 girls in my stem classes #tho I did always find it odd that there was more of a gender balance with chemistry and biology but not physics? #cause it’s considered a harder subject maybe? #idk biology has had the ‘girl science’ label attached to it for a while whilst physics is probably the opposite #kinda cringe it’s that way tbh (to say the least) #why tf do we gender subjects (regretfully I know the answer) #computer science wasn’t any better #me and like the one other girl in the class 😔🤝

[webslingingslasher]

peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee

nerdy peter makes me feral.

Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with. 

A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away. 

Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean. 

Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away. 

All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved. 

He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you. 

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe. 

Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes. 

But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences? 

He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him. 

You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all. 

—---------------------

Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought? 

That was you with Peter Parker. 

He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test. 

Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer. 

After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance. 

“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.” 

You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real. 

“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.” 

Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. ���Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek. 

Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.

 Six steps away he calls out, “yes!” 

You pause, then turn, “what?” 

“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.” 

Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up. 

Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy. 

“Really? You will?” 

Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?” 

“You got it.” 

Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing. 

Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal. 

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him. 

—---------------------

You figured it was first date nerves. 

That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up. 

This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring. 

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker. 

It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it. 

Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were  in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away. 

Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot. 

“Um, you know if you didn’t want-” 

“Can we do this again, please?” 

And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes. 

—--------------

The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top. 

Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?” 

You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off. 

Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.” 

If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’. 

“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?” 

The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it. 

—------

Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words. 

The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?”  It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.” 

You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books. 

Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self. 

You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you. 

“Can I come over later?” 

“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?” 

“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls. 

He has no idea what’s coming. 

—------------

Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin. 

“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?” 

You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.” 

The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races. 

“Why?” 

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.” 

How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted. 

“I don’t… what does that mean?” 

You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.” 

Oh my god. 

He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else. 

He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you. 

Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you. 

“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.” 

Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed. 

“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.” 

Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,” 

He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.” 

You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you. 

This was who he was, so why was he hiding it? 

“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.” 

Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”

That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.” 

“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?” 

You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.” 

“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself. 

His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-” 

Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks. 

“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss. 

“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water. 

“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.” 

Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?” 

“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper,  “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?” 

Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.” 

For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid. 

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm peter x reader #peter parker angst #my writing

[kentosbabes]

Just thinking about having to help tutor Eren 💔

Eren who’s often referred to as a ‘fuck boy’ and has a reputation of fucking over every girl he’s been with, yet when he’s around you he feels infatuated with you. He becomes a softie, holding doors open for you and making sure your comfortable.

Eren who couldn’t help but get attached to you. when you opened your door in a crop top and joggers with adorable fluffy slippers with your glasses pushed up your nose, how could he not fall in love?

Eren who pretends to get the question wrong so he can listen to your voice for longer as your explain it again. He loves how you never loose patience with him like other people you just smile and teach him where he went wrong.

Eren who sits behind you in your computer science class and just plays games the whole lesson on the computer so he can ask you to help him later. It’s just a bonus that he can see you infront of him for the whole hour.

Eren who rushes after you after class ‘hey sweetheart, was it just me or was that class real confusing’ you just smile up at him knowing what he’s implying ‘of course Yeager be at mine at 6pm sharp'.

Eren who knocks just as the clock hits 6pm and his eyes go wide seeing what you’re wearing. You both had to admit noticing the change in clothing in the recent weeks, from jeans, hoodies to now shorts, a loose fitted crop top barely covering your breasts and a flowy cardigan handing around your elbows exposing your collarbones.

Eren who sits at the dining table as your rush around grabing everything. ‘you sure you don’t want a drink Eren?’ you ask knowing how long you’ll be here ‘nah ma’ i’m good, unless you have beer’ you can tell he’s teasing you about your lack of experience in the party and alcohol field yet what he doesn’t know yet is that there’s a rack of beer in the fridge. ‘I wouldn’t normally allow this but as you’ve been good I shall grab you a beer’

Eren who now sits sipping his beer manspreading in your chain while you explain the hardware and software of a computer. He knows most of the information, in fact he was at a good grade but when he saw you walk into class as a new student he knew somehow he had to get you.

Eren whose arm reaches over your shoulder when he sits up to ask you to explain further. You don’t move his arm away, it’s sits too perfectly over your shoulder like it belongs there, it follows a sense of comfort brought to you by him being close to you.

Eren who doesn’t know how but blurts out 'have you ever had sex'. By now he's drinking his third beer and when you got all shy and said you were a virgin the infatuation he has with you only grew stronger. You were so innocent, batting your eyelashes up at him only making him want to ruin you even more.

Eren who now has you straddling his lap while your lips attach in a soft kiss. The kiss wasn’t filled with sex and desire like his usual kisses instead it was innocent and pure it was so innocent. His tongue tastes of beer but you don’t complain when he practically whimpers your name when you move your hips.

Eren who talks you through everything. 'here baby? like this?' he's moaning in your ear while he plays with your clit as you squirm under him. He want to make sure your first time his special and you enjoy it so he's constantly asking if your okay, but when you moan out his name when he pushes into you he struggles to hold back.

Eren who cant hold back and lets out moans at your tightness, your walls squeezing and sucking him in. 'fuck mama you've been hiding this from me this whole time? God' you can only moan out the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any point.

Eren who runs you hot bath as soon as you've both calmed down from your high. The water is soothing and the vanilla scent helps to relax you both. He sits behind you massaging your shoulders and leaving kisses down your neck.

Eren who continues to turn up at your house for the rest of the week not for help with homework but for something a lot better. and once he gains the courage he's asking you to be his girl of course you say yes!

masterlist

#eren #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren x y/n #eren x reader #kentosbabes #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #eren x you #aot eren #aot #attack on titan #aot headcanons #eren yeager #eren jeager smut #eren headcanons #i love this man

[seikkoi]

ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ | t. stark & s. strange x f!reader

Step one: Work at one of the most successful research laboratories in the country. Step two: Don't fuck it up. Step two and a half: Do not fuck it up.

content/warnings: mildly dubious consent (sooo uncharacteristic of me), degradation, power dynamics, voyeurism, shy reader, org*sm denial, v*ginal fingering word count: 2.6k a/n: im having a small fixation on our favorite witchy doctor dont worry abt it

Shitshitshit!

You chastised yourself mentally over and over again, watching the bright blue numbers tick downwards. It might make sense to get up, scramble across the lab, fling your hand around the incubator and pull the plug. That’s what an amateur would do, but you’re an expert and know that will do fuck all for you now. Then again, an expert would have set the goddamned temperature correctly. 

You’d fallen asleep at your desk–a natural consequence of several late nights collecting data (or drowning in term papers and reports). In your half-awake state, right before your head hits the table, you set the temperature twenty degrees lower than it should be. Dreamland gave no clues to the impending doom awaiting you. Instead, you dreamt of a tropical paradise. Your sunny fantasia was inevitably interrupted by the persistent beep that echoed the labs walls.

The digits keep trickling down, and you rest your head in your heads. All you can do is wait for it to hit zero. Thousands of synthetic cultures–gone. That was two months of work down the drain, and your bosses expected a very long report, printed and neatly stapled by the end of this week. 

You were so fucking fired.

The numbers finally stop, the computer beeping tauntingly as if you needed verbal confirmation on how screwed you were. You could not even begin to imagine how you would explain this. You worked at one of the best laboratories in the world, there wasn’t room for rookies errors here. Especially not when they come from supposed wannabe professionals like you (and cost millions of dollars). Your first week some larger-than-life MIT grad used the wrong inventory system and was gone by noon. You weren’t any better, just some Ph.D candidate trying to boost her resume. 

The computer stops, and in its absence you pick up on the slight tick of the clock on the desk. The red analog reads 9:57 PM. Late, but not too late for your bosses to still be around. You’re nauseous with guilt, but you can’t imagine carrying it through the night, working with nothing through the rest of week just to get canned on Friday.

No, you’d accept your fate now.

If you were lucky, you’d only have to talk to one of them. 

You don’t have a preference for either. Stark had no issue showing dissatisfaction through his words, often sternly and without grace. The good part was that he was the same way with praise, although you rarely managed to earn that. Strange on the other hand was, well, strange. You barely interacted with him, but when you did you always left the conversation not sure if he despised you or merely tolerated your presence. It changed your working attitude from focusing on the science to scrambling for perfection to gain even the faintest ounce of approval. 

Obviously, not well enough if you were making Alaska-sized mistakes like this. Both were equally arrogant (unfortunately, well deserved) and you knew neither of them well enough to plead for your job. 

You make your way down the dim hallway, passing the empty offices and labs. More than one mental pep talk passes through your mind. The end of the hallway held your demise, a cracked open door holding an illuminating light and a pair of voices. 

All you could do was hope they weren’t too harsh.

Beyond the wooden door, you listen to two voices argue indiscriminately. 

“I suppose you think we should just give it away.” one says exasperatedly, and you figure this is Stark by the sarcasm laced in each syllable.

“No,” the other sighs, “but our shareholders will never agree to this price point.”

“The shareholders will agree to whatever we tell them to.”

“You’re right, to a point. Still, we need to be realistic in our expectation of returns.”

“We haven’t done all this work for realism. We did it for profit and you want to sell our hard work to the lowest bidder.”

You tapped your knuckles against the oak door, heart beating in your chest. You went through a couple of opening lines–promises about how this would never happen again and pleas for understanding. Logically, you knew neither were likely to be granted. The voices on the other side grant you entrance that you take nervously. Inside, Stark sits at the large desk in the middle of the room. Strange stands beside him, peering over papers that you presume sparked their conversation. 

At the sight of you, both men seem to soften their hardened expressions. Whatever nonsense flared their words a moment ago is gone, replaced by confusion by their junior researcher at their door this late. Strange glances at the timepiece on his wrist before you can say anything, scoffing and shaking his head. 

“Yes, [y/n]?”

The annoyance drips, clearly not amused by your poorly timed visit. You wring your fingers in front of your body. 

“Firstly, sirs, I want to apologize, there was a mistake with the incubator, and the cultures were destroyed.” 

You wish you sounded more confident, but instead your eyes dart between the men and the floor. Your omission tumbles out in a whiny tone, waiting on every syllable for their faces to turn and tell you how stupid you were and how much you cost them in time and resources. That’s not how it goes, however. 

Stark leans back in the leather desk chair, metal creaking as his arms are crossed in front of his body. He makes an annoyed face, sure, but not the angry scowl you were dreading. 

Strange’s reaction is even more peculiar, chuckling slightly and glancing back at Tony.

“Did the incubator make a mistake, or did you?” he says lightheartedly, a grin stretching on his face, yet the words create a swell in your throat. 

Tony seems to find it amusing as well, watching Strange stalk towards you. He stops in the middle of the office. You’re less than two yards away, trying not to tremble under his gaze. 

“I did, sir, I’m sorry. I’ll gather my things and leave.” you whispered, hanging your head in shame. 

Your feet are on autopilot, turning for the door until Strange speaks again.

“Oh, there’s no need for that.” he chuckles. “Right, Tony?”

You turn back to see him looking towards Stark, who hums in approval. Even more confused, you watch as Strange beckons you closer, and you obey on instinct. 

“I don’t think it’s a good look for a Ph.d candidate to have a termination from such a large company on her record.” Tony coos from his chair.

“No, not at all. That might just tarnish her future.” Strange adds.

Their eyes rake over you. Stephen beckons you forward again, and you comply once more. Clearly, they were mocking you before giving you the boot. The condescending drip in their voices leaves your skin hot with embarrassment.

“We wouldn’t want that for you, sweetheart.” Tony sits up as Strange guides you towards the desk, a large hand resting on your back. 

“I-I don’t understand.” you stammer. 

They both share another laugh at your confusion. Stephen stands behind you once you reach the desk. He nudges you forward until your hips are flush against the edge. There’s still separation, but not enough that you can’t sense his body right behind yours.

“I’m sure a smart girl like you knows how valuable you are to us,” Tony locks eyes with you as Strange twirls your hair in his fingers. The touch shocks you to turn back to him, only for Strange to push you back to face Tony. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, after all.”

Your eyes widen when Stephen presses his body into yours, easily towering over you. Heavy hands trail down your jean-covered hips, hot enough to burn your skin through the denim.

“We’re very understanding, I’m sure we can work something out.” Stephen’s voice purrs in your ear, warm breath tickling your throat.

The glittering look in Stark’s eye is all too familiar, watching Stephen’s hands get acquainted with every inch of your form. You shudder under his touch. The blood in your veins runs cold as you catch a wink between the two men–and suddenly, you understand.

“Wouldn’t want your career to end before it even starts now would we?” Tony taunts. 

Fingers tease along your side. Soon, they work their way under your shirt, grazing the skin of your midriff. 

Any lingering uncertainty is snuffed when Stephen presses further into you. The desk digs into your hips, trapping you between it and the tall doctor. 

“I can’t–we can’t–this isn’t–”

Each attempt at a full sentence fails under Tony's lustful gaze. It’s quite enjoyable watching you fail against Stephen. Recruitment always seemed to be just the prettiest research assistants. Who could blame them for finally getting an opportunity for a taste? 

Not to mention you did just cost them a small fortune with your little mistake. Contrary to your beliefs, though, they liked your work ethic (and you, for that matter). Letting go of such a helpful piece of eye candy simply wouldn’t do. That doesn’t mean that kindness is a guarantee. 

“No?” Tony hums. “Well, we could always let you go. We can give a shining recommendation, of course having to mention your little incompetencies.” 

Being blacklisted would kill you. All you wanted was to work in this field. Years of late nights and term papers down the drain was a far greater loss than a few synthetic cultures. 

“Please, you don’t have to do that.” you plead. Behind you, Strange’s beard scratches your throat. His hands travel further north, dancing on the hem of your bra. Goosebumps spread across your skin.

“Like I said, I’m sure we can all come to some sort of compromise.” Stephen’s voice drops low and heavy, enveloping on your covered breasts in his right hand. He squeezes gently, tweaking your nipple through the padded fabric.

“W-what if someone finds out–please, just–”

“Oh, don’t you worry, honey. We know how to be discreet.” Tony smirks.

Your eyes can never seem to leave Tony’s, watching his smile grow as your arousal does. It’s against your doing. Stephen completely surrounds you, touching any part of you he could reach. You gasp when the doctor’s idle hand finds your other nipple, rocking himself into you as you squirm. 

“I think she wants to keep her job, don’t you, honey?” Stephen chimes in.

You nod nervously. If this would save your career, so be it. People have slept with their bosses for less, right? And you certainly weren’t blind, both men were attractive in their own rights, able to pander through a catalog of women much smarter and much more their style. It begs the question why they were doing this all–crossing such a boundary with a goddamned graduate student. 

“Oh no, honey, we’ll need to hear you say it.” 

You barely blink, nor breath, all brain power zeroing in on Strange’s heat pressed into you. Tony raises an impatient eyebrow and you manage to answer out of the need to appease him and keep your job. 

“Yes, I’ll do whatever you want.”

The second the words leave you, Stephen’s hand disappears from your shirt to push you over the desk. You would’ve face planted straight into it had his palms not wrapped tightly around each of your wrists, yanking your arms. You try to sit up, uncomfortably pressed between Stephen Itchy wool suit pants and the wooden desk. Tony gleams down at you as the doctor keeps a firm hand splayed across your back, his right hand reaching around for the zipper of your jeans. 

In the next moment, you feel cool air bend around your bare legs. Before you can have anything even remotely resembling second thoughts, your lace panties are quickly pulled to your ankles as well. Warmth flushes across your cheeks, feeling Stephen’s hungry eyes and fingers on your exposed cunt–all while Tony’s eyes stay locked onto you, smile growing wider as your shame does. 

That became harder the second rough hands grab the supple flesh of your ass before a teasing finger slid across wet folds. You squirmed against Stephen’s hold on your wrists, trying desperately to look anywhere but at your boss as you bit back a soft gasp.

“I think our pretty little assistant is feeling a bit shy, Stephen.” Tony declares, reaching out to caress the side of your face not pressed into the surface. It sends butterflies up your spine at how gently he draws tight circles on the skin of your cheek, humming in satisfaction from how roughly Stephen roams over your body.

“Tsk, I hardly believe that, as wet as she is right now.” he murmurs, distracted by the mess you wish you weren’t making. 

You kept your lips pierced tightly between your teeth, lids squeezing shut when a long digit pushes into your aching walls. A deep groan from Strange echoes behind you. You hardly had time to eat, let alone maintain a social life. This meant it had been almost months since you’d slept with anyone–leaving needy and aching from the simplest touch. Even if it was your boss. 

You instinctively try to pull forward when a second finger is roughly added, and this time you can’t stop the whimper as you stretch around him.

“There it is–feels good doesn’t it? Don’t be shy, honey.” Tony’s voice sounds like smolding ice, freezing your nerves and setting your skin on fire. 

You almost hate yourself for how good this feels, Stephen pistoning in and out of your cunt until the sounds of your arousal against his fingers flood the office walls. All while Tony strokes your face like you're made of fine china. It’s far more than your body can handle, stomach already tightening with each pulse of the doctor’s fingers. 

“Go ahead, hon’, tell us how much you like it.”

Your face warms. From his touch or embarrassment, you’re not sure. You stammer under the heat, trying to look anywhere but Tony’s piercing eyes. 

Stephen’s hand comes down strong on your exposed ass, earning a loud cry from you as you strain against his hold. It shouldn’t make your head spin as much as it does.

“That wasn’t a request, answer him.” the doctor commands, gripping your wrists even tighter. When you take a second too long to muster a response, another strike falls on your opposite cheek. Your nerves are nearly disintegrated, still relishing good his finger feel stretching your cunt.

“It–it’s good, it feels–” you cry out once more when he spanks you again, taunting you for being too quiet. 

“It feels really good, sir.” you say louder, nearly shouting into the wood as your legs shake. 

Tony laughs above you, only worsening your shame. It’s an easily forgotten feeling–Stephen’s fingers curl inside you, testing each angle until he finds the one that makes you squirm. Soon enough, you forget where you are entirely, barely able to tell where your skin and theirs begin. Your high is far too close to care about the way Tony watches you, or how bruised your wrists will be after Stephen’s done with you. 

Just as your mind starts to split into two, it’s quickly interrupted. Stephen withdraws from your soaking cunt, leaning over you to press you impossibly further into the desk, unbuckling the leather belt at his waist. You jerk your head up at the ache between your legs, meeting Tony’s devilish smirk. Warm lips grace your ear, chuckling at your needy panting. 

“Aw, poor thing. Don’t think we’d let you off that easy–you’ll need to earn it.” Stephen whispers.  

As he sinks into you, you get the feeling this mistake will take quite some time to pay back. 

#tony stark x reader #mcu fanfiction #seikkoiwrites #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark smut #marvel fanfiction #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange smut #tw dubious consent

[ozziethegreat]

Do you have any shipkid of your own (that you made for utmv)?

YES I DO!! I only have two that have actual backstories so I’ll share them :3

I’ve already mentioned Keiko on my TikTok a few times, but Sinklair is relatively new :3 they’re both Colorkiller ship children if that wasn’t obvious enough, but they exist in different timelines. (Neither have both parents LMAO)

Yap session below

Keiko - 15, he/him, transmale, autistic + aroace

Soul traits - integrity, patience, kindness

Keiko exists in a timeline where Color failed to save Killer basically- Killer ends up dying in a fight with Color (and similarly to how PJ was made, Keiko randomly appeared). Color ended up taking Keiko to the Omega Timeline and raising him there, with emotional support from Epic and Delta.

Keiko didn’t have much of an education because he was more interested in doing his own things- he would only attend school to take science classes because he likes science, computers, and technology. :3 (he also hates social interaction)

Obviously by his sweater and slippers, he also likes cats a lot, much like Killer did. After Killer’s death, Nightmare ended up replacing him with a new Killer from a different Something New timeline, but Color decided not to chase after him again, for the sake of giving Keiko a decent childhood. It was also bad for his own health, and his friends convinced him it was better to let it go.

Sinklair - 17, he/they, boyflux, pansexual

Soul traits - Justice, determination

Sinklair on the other hand was born after Killer’s good ending. Color and Killer were living together for a short while in the Omega Timeline, but Nightmare (who was petty and wanted to get back at Killer for leaving him) killed Color shortly after Sinklair was born. (Guys they can’t be happy)

Killer obviously was not very happy about that (😭😭). As someone who normally saw death as a minor inconvenience, he had a lot of mixed feelings about it. But he couldn’t be trusted to cope by himself, because he still hadn’t fully healed from everything else, so Dream offered to keep him company.

Because of that, Sinklair grew up mostly around Dream, Swap, and other members of the Star Sanses, so he learned a lot about battle and combat, and it inevitably became an interest for him. He had a normal education, and later he joined the Star Sanses to pursue his love for combat. (Hence his uniform)

Guys am I cringe /j

#sans au #ship child #ship children #Colorkiller #color sans #killer sans #delta sans #epic sans #dream sans #star Sanses

[possibilistfanfiction]

surgeons au - when they get engaged?

[@gohandinhand hbd pt2 lol // ao3]

//

‘chief superion?’ dr. alvarez says, poking her head into your office and looking more frazzled than you expect and much more frazzled than you ever want to see any of your doctors, especially your head of ortho. ‘do you, uh — do you have a moment?’

you never have a moment, but you close your computer and nod, motion for her to come sit.

‘actually, i… can you come with me? it’s for…’ she sighs. ‘please?’

it worries you, instantly, because this would never happen if things were business as usual, if everything was running smoothly. ‘what’s going on, dr. alvarez?’

she hesitates. ‘it’s ava,’ she finally admits after a few seconds. 

you’ve spent decades perfecting the art of looking calm when you are very much not, but this tests you immediately, the jolt of panic that shoots through your body. when silva had joined your residency program, he had frustrated you beyond measure: you thought her unserious, impatient, selfish — the only reason you had any patience to begin with is because jillian had recommended her so warmly after ava’s time as her doctoral candidate. but you were so, so wrong — about her work ethic, her overwhelming compassion, her deep bravery and even deeper capacity for love. beatrice, from even before she had matched with your hospital, had been your favorite in a way that you trusted her to, one day, take over your program and continue to make sure it’s the best in the world — even better, you’re certain. she’s unshakably calm under pressure, good with patients and colleagues alike, a skilled surgeon and even more skilled teacher.

but ava is special in a way that feels too close to even say — your mentee, the incredible leader of next generation of neurosurgeons and researchers: miracle after miracle, delivered with a bravado and a kindness that’s impossible to teach.

so you nod, stand and grab your cane with the steadiest hands you can manage. camila leads you, silently and quickly, clearly also trying to act calm, to the nearest staff bathroom to the OR, and you open the door and then see ava sitting on the small bench there, slumped over a little to one side. normally, ava never stops moving, always fidgeting, gesturing, greeting you with a wave and a daily attempt to get you to come up with a secret handshake with her. but now, ava’s face is set in a pained grimace and her body is noticeably still.

‘hey, dr. s,’ they say, trying to smile, but it doesn’t work.

‘hello, dr. silva.’ you feel caught in no-man’s land for a moment, with ava so still and camila hovering worriedly. 

‘so, i, uh. well, first of all, my surgery went great. secondly, please don’t tell bea until we know what’s going on.’

‘ava —‘

‘— i can’t move.’

you don’t have any comforting thing to say: you’ve seen ava’s scans over the years, especially when her back has flared before; you know about how jillian is always working on more effective injections, better tech. you hear about it when you visit her lab for business, and you also hear about it over quiet dinners at either of your houses, with the lights low and her voice taking on a sadder timbre than the determined, professional clip when she’s talking only of science, not of love too. 

so instead you nod and walk toward ava, crouch down with only a few clicks in your knee — you’ll take it. ‘numbness? tingling?’

‘i —‘ ava’s voice shakes and she takes a deep breath, steadies herself. ‘i can’t feel anything. it’s — there’s just nothing.’

you go through a few more questions and she answers with what you can tell is honesty: she’d been in pain lately but nothing out of the ordinary, especially with the winter weather rolling in; there wasn’t anything concerning before operating, or else she certainly would’ve postponed; after she finished — eight hours of concentrating and microscopic movements later — when she sat down, things degraded quickly from there.

‘i had my intern page cam,’ they say, ‘because i just — bea is going to panic and go into worst-case-scenario mode, and i don’t know if it actually is worst-case-scenario or just, you know, a passionate flare-up.’

all of you can guess that this is not a normal flare, but, ‘okay. let’s get an mri then. but i don’t want to move you without a brace and a backboard.’

ava pouts.

‘you know i can’t justify just helping you transfer to a chair right now.’

‘yeah, but it doesn’t mean i have to like it.’

you place a tender hand on the top of her head and she leans into it, just for a moment: a comfort, quiet and small and, you imagine, as much as she can accept right now.

‘alright,’ ava says, sniffling. ‘let’s get this show on the road.’

/

you would never take away ava’s autonomy, especially not now, but when you show her the scans — the worst worst-case-scenario results — she bites her bottom lip, clearly trying not to cry, and you say, ‘can i page dr. choi for you?’

ava looks toward the ceiling in frustration, in fear, in anger, in grief. ‘yeah,’ she says eventually. ‘yeah, i want her here.’

/

it’s a risky surgery, one that even you feel unsure about: if things go wrong, or, really, even if they go right, ava could have worse chronic pain and irreversible paralysis. beatrice accepts those risks steadily when you talk to her privately, when camila is doing one final pre-op update of ava’s vitals, her mouth set in a firm line, jaw clenched tightly.

the risks that shake both of you are much worse: too much blood loss, stroke, a lack of oxygen to the brain. you don’t want to say them, let alone think them about ava, but they both deserve to know, to choose.

but, ‘there’s no other options, are there?’ beatrice says, finally sitting down and putting her head in her hands, running a hand over her hair and then sitting back in the stiff chair, slumped, horrified. 

your silence is the only answer she needs, because she’s brilliant and there’s nothing else you can say: you will do everything in your power. she knows that. 

‘just — i love him.’

‘i know,’ you tell her. ‘i do too.’

she nods. ‘okay,’ she says, steeling her resolve as she looks to ava’s room. ‘okay.’

/

‘hey,’ ava says, ‘can you scoot where i can fully see you with this stupid neck brace on?’

even without being able to move, even scared out of her mind, ava glares at you. it makes you want to smile, the fight that sits in her bones. 

beatrice sits carefully on the side of ava’s bed fully in her line of sight. ‘what do you need, my love?’

ava smiles softly. you wonder, briefly, if she feels the grief of not being able to touch her partner, always so tactile. ‘don’t pretend this couldn’t end really badly, please.’

‘ava.’

‘bea.’ 

beatrice frowns, staring down at their linked hands, held tightly even if ava can’t himself.

‘i’ve lived way longer and better than i ever thought i would,’ ava says.

‘and you’ll have plenty of good time left,’ beatrice says, stubborn even still.

‘well, i hope so,’ ava concedes. ‘but i just — i gotta ask you something, just in case.’

beatrice swallows, clearly fighting back tears, and nods.

‘there’s a ring in my tan purse, the one i never use.’

beatrice does start to cry then; she shakes her head.

ava’s smile is so, so sad. ‘i was waiting for, like, the perfect moment or the perfect plan. which you still deserve, but, well.’ she shrugs with her jaw clenched in pain. ‘i can’t get down on one knee right now, but i know you’ll like the ring.’

‘i — i’ve known,’ beatrice admits, which has them both laughing through tears. beatrice dries ava’s cheeks first, then her own.

‘and you didn’t say anything?!’

‘i knew you wanted to ask. also, i was just looking for a spare mint; it didn’t seem fair to ruin your surprise for such a ridiculous reason.’

ava shakes her head. ‘that’s very kind.’ and then, ‘so, what do you say then?’

‘i, um — i have a ring too, in my winter pack.’

ava grins. ‘so that’s a yes?’

‘yes, ava,’ beatrice says, then leans forward to kiss him softly. ‘of course it’s a yes. as soon as you can, i’ll marry you. i’ve wanted to for years.’

‘wow,’ ava says. ‘okay, cool. sweet. it’s a yes from me too, obviously. also — is it a big diamond? family heirloom?’

beatrice laughs, despite it all. ‘i thought a diamond band might suit work better.’

‘hot,’ ava tells her. ‘well, when i wake up, i expect it.’

‘i’ll send lilith to rifle through all our belongings as soon as i can.’

ava sobers. ‘i wish i could feel you.’

beatrice cups ava’s jaw gently, her thumb grazing over her cheek. ‘i’m here.’

‘i love you,’ ava says.

‘i love you so much, ava silva.’ beatrice smiles, watery and terrified and sorrowful and grateful. she kisses ava, who leans her head up as best she can with a neck brace on. ‘in this life.’

ava nods, sniffles, and then looks at you, resolved, determined. ‘let’s do it.’

/

‘promise me,’ ava says, loopy from the drugs already administered in her IV but not asleep yet, ‘that you’ll take care of her if things don’t work out.’

‘things will work out.’

ava shakes her head. ‘we both know they might not.’

you smooth your hand over ava’s hair. ‘you are both loved beyond measure,’ you say, and ava takes it in.

‘well, try your best not to fuck it up.’

you laugh, and ava grins, and then her eyes flutter closed.

/

you explain to beatrice — now changed into joggers and a hoodie you’re sure was once ava’s — her alma mater not even close to beatrice’s — since it’s the middle of the night, lilith sitting stiffly beside her — that ava is alive but there were complications: too much blood loss, low oxygen levels. her spine is stabilized and you think — you hope — that part, at least, was successful, but you’re just not really sure if ava will wake up — or, if she does, what her cognitive function will be, who she’ll be. 

beatrice takes it, just for a moment, like a physical blow, but then she nods. ‘thank you,’ she says, quiet and polite without fail, but lilith looks on, concerned. 

‘we’ll monitor him closely in the neuro icu,’ you say, ‘and hope for the best.’ you don’t think beatrice has prayed in years and years, but there’s a rosary, probably lilith’s, clenched in her hand. 

‘okay,’ she says, and follows you quietly there. 

even though beatrice is a surgeon, seeing ava hooked up to so many monitors, drains and leads and an oxygen cannula in her nose, seems to give her pause, slightly unsteady on her feet — just for a moment, but enough for you to think nothing of it when you take her in your arms and hug her tight. unlike ava, who is always physically affectionate, beatrice has been reticent for as long as you’ve known her. but she sinks into it this time, letting out a shaky sob while you rub her back, and then steadies herself eventually. 

she sits down by ava’s bedside, faithful as always, and brave, and fishes out a box from her pocket, opens it and then slips a beautiful ring onto ava’s left hand. ava’s hands are cold, you know, because you made personally sure that she was comfortably settled in bed; but beatrice just holds steady, brings it to her lips, kisses the cool, still skin there. 

she murmurs something — please wake up; please don’t leave me; i love you, you’re not sure. 

you’re technically both done with your shift and also behind on so much paperwork, but you settle down at the nurse’s station and watch ava’s vitals as beatrice prays.

/

jillian brings you breakfast early the next morning, kissing your forehead in a show of affection that you both rarely allow at either of your workplaces. but she loves ava too, for years now, even longer than you, and so she takes you by the hand and leads you into her room. beatrice is asleep on mary’s shoulder, shannon bringing coffee for everyone. there certainly aren’t this many people supposed to be allowed in an icu room, but it doesn’t stop anyone because it doesn’t really matter: whenever a nurse comes in to change a dressing or an iv, you all stay out of the way. it’s quiet, small conversations only. you think ava would probably hate it — the lack of stupid jokes, beatrice’s bright laugh, mary and lilith’s fondness not at all masked by their snark.

you take turns getting beatrice to eat; you sleep lightly. eventually jillian makes you shower, changing out of your scrubs and into comfortable slacks and a soft sweater she’d brought you. 

it stays like this for two days: so many people from the hospital dropping by to see how ava’s doing, to drop off flowers, to check in with beatrice too. ava’s kindness is remarkably present even when he’s not fully; being returned tenfold. you don’t even ask or say anything, just make sure that beatrice’s shifts are covered by your other cardio attendings, and so she waits, sentinel. 

and then, just as beatrice is about to doze off again, 46 hours after you’d finished surgery, ava groans. beatrice shoots up like she’s not sure it happened, a specter too good to imagine. 

‘ava?’ she asks hesitantly.

it seems like a herculean effort, and you wait with bated breath, but then ava fights and opens her eyes. ‘hey bea,’ she says, weak and rough but coherent, aware, sure. 

beatrice smiles, immediate tears running down her cheeks. ‘hi.’

ava lifts her left hand — a miracle in itself — an inch or so off the bed, but easy, natural, and sees the ring there, beams. ‘hot.’

beatrice kisses ava’s forehead, her cheeks, her mouth — joy, everywhere.

/

you walk ava down the aisle, almost a year later — it was slow going, at first, and then more and more progress in physical therapy, beatrice’s steadfast reassurance through even the most frustrating, painful days. but now you’re here, ava smiling at your matching canes. 

‘wouldn’t be here without you,’ he says, in his wispy, beautiful white dress and immaculate makeup. 

you smile, hug her to you. ‘it’s an honor.’

you walk her down the aisle, steady and easy, both of you, and then watch as she stands, grinning at an already emotional beatrice. visible below her hair that falls just at her jaw, the newest scar along ava’s neck — from your scalpel, as careful and neat as you could — has faded; is still fading; has healed.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #butch bea 🥺🫡 #sorry but everything is fine!!!! fluff coming up in the next few prompts! lmao #if there's one thing abt ava tho she WILL make a joke at any time! #i’m an english major idk what’s wrong w ava but who cares this isn’t the new england journal of medicine

[xlovingcupcakex]

M!Kylar x F!Reader - Gaming (Part 1)

You and Kylar meet through League. Two dorks in love. Fluff. I could make it into GN!Reader but I need the reader to be female for the next part, so yeah. There's not much League things, it's more like a plot device. So anyone can read it, even if you don't play league I made it pretty vague on purpose. As always, love y'all!

No trigger warnings, unless you count in League. Kylar is Kylar. Yeah.

2.1k Words. Not including headcanons.

As your game came to an end, the bold letters flashed on the screen. Although the game wasn’t won, you still had a lot of fun. Especially since your support was good, and it seemed like the both of you had a good synergy.  

It was no surprise that you sent them a friend request and an invite to your next game, hoping to play some more with them. A feeling of joy rose up in your stomach as they accepted both invitations, their preferred lane positions already picked and ready. You were already ready to start the next game as well.  

As you started up the queue, you asked them the basics, getting to know them better. If your synergy together was as good as you suspected, you definitely wanted to play more with them. And you for sure wanted to keep them around if that was the case! Making new friends in-game was fun, after all.  

Music played on Spotify as your anonymous support was answering your questions. The answers were short and curt, giving your duo an aura of mystery around them. However, in the end you found out a few things about your lane partner.  

First off, they were a man, and his name was Kylar. He was also around the same age as you, he even studies computer science! Although his answers were short, his questions about you were plentiful. You answered most of them without a second thought, as long as they weren’t questions about your exact location. However, you didn’t mind giving him a vague answer, like which major city you live close to.  

You also made sure to cheer him up through the messages as best as you could when something didn’t work out on bot lane. His Nami was on point, he was actively using his ability to slow down the enemy, only to follow up with a bubble that would stun them, thus giving you a kill. But sometimes, things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to, all thanks to random visits from the enemy, which would catch both of you off guard.  

But you made sure to calm him down each time, giving sweet words of encouragement, effectively bringing him back to his composed state almost immediately, or at least, it looked that way after you saw his playstyle improve. You also made sure to praise him each time he did something good. Although you weren’t sure if it had any impact on him because of the lack of voice chat, you still hoped you made his day, since he kept writing back “Thank you.” each time you gave him a compliment.   

Unbeknownst to you, Kylar was a melting mess behind his computer screen after each time you have him a compliment. You were so nice and so easy to talk to! Not to mention, you were really good at the game. And you knew what to say to him to make him calm down. It’s like it was fate for both of you to meet!  

Oh, how much fun does he have playing with you. He was actually the first one to ask you to play with him next day, too. Kylar spent the whole day being online as soon as he woke up, since he didn’t want to miss you and he really, really wanted to spend more time with you. He has made sure to give you lots of compliments as well that day. 

Hiding behind the screen gave him the anonymity, hence making him more courageous. You appeared slightly later than usual, which made him worry as he started to overthink as to why you could be late by two hours compared to your usual time. So, it’s no wonder he went ahead and asked subtly, disguised under the pretext of asking how your day was.  

Oh, so you had to do some grocery runs and buy a few things! Oh, it’s getting colder, and you bought some sweaters, as well! He was sure you looked so good in the virgin killer you bought. Kylar is so sure you bought it for a potential meeting with him, his Darling dressing up all nice and pretty just for him.  

Although he didn’t know how you looked like yet, he was sure you were just the most beautiful Goddess on earth. It’s impossible for someone as kind and nurturing as you to not be beautiful to him! 

He could only hope that you felt the same excitement whenever you spent time with him. You had to. Otherwise, why spend time with him? You surely had a thing for him too. You had to.  

The more you played with Kylar the more attached you got. He was fun to text to and play with, and his mysterious nature made you more curious about him. You tried asking more questions over the last few weeks and lately, you’ve been curious about what he sounds like. At some point your head made up a deep voice, fitting for his mysterious personality.  

It didn’t take long for you to take matters into your own hands, asking him whether not he wanted to join a Discord call with you. You were so ready to hear his voice. The thought actually made you all giddy and excited. As you exchanged Discord nicknames, you glanced at the screen. His nickname was Yamada-Kun, the same as his in-game nickname. He also had a picture of Yamada from ‘leveling up Yamada-Kun to lv999’.  

Your heartbeat quickened up as you clicked the call button, ready to hear Kylar’s voice for the first time. Kylar answered instantly, which surprised you. You barely even heard the Discord call noise; you were instantly connected to a call with him.  

Kylar shuffled about in his room, stumbling over his things. His hands felt shaky. His hands were sweating. He dried his hands by brushing them against his pants, hopefully less sweaty now. Kylar was so excited that he knocked over the microphone by mistake! Getting it took some time, since he had to be sneaky about it, but it was so worth it. Now his Darling can hear him in the highest possible quality! He was such a good boyfriend for you! 

As the microphone fell, you shrank a little at the noise, curious as to what happened. “Hello?” you said. “Is everything okay, Kylar?”. 

Your voice was so nice to him, so pretty and calming. It felt so good to hear you that he almost forgot about the microphone completely. He gingerly picked it up and placed it back on his desk. Then, he cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. My microphone just fell.” 

Oh, he did not sound like you expected. Not in a bad way, of course! You didn’t expect him to sound so shy and nervous, that’s all. But it was so cute that you just had to tease him. 

“Feels good to finally hear you, my Dear Duo! I was so excited. And I’m still excited for playing today. You ready?” 

Although you couldn’t see it, Kylar was nodding his head repeatedly, black locks of hair flying around and messing up his hairstyle, making it more messy than usual. “Y-Yeah, that sounds absolutely great, my Lovely.” 

Oh, he was using back pet names as well. He was so shy you thought he wouldn’t use it. You leaned back in your chair, pulling up League and logging it, then picking your preferred role to play before inviting Kylar to the game.  

God, his voice was so nice to listen to, even with all the stuttering and occasional voice cracks when he complimented you on nice actions you did in-game. It was so soft and delicate. Your ears felt hot and you felt a flush come to your cheeks as you listened to his voice. You desperately wanted to hear more, so you gradually asked him more questions, which he seemed to answer gladly, happy to satisfy your curiosity.  

The atmosphere on call was comfortable and it was nice to talk to someone during ranked games. Whenever he gave you a compliment or used a pet name, each time more confident than the other, you felt your stomach buzzing with energy.  

You reflected the same energy back to him. You did have some kind of crush on him. But that’s because he seemed so curt and mysterious in the beginning, and now you found yourself falling for how cute and shy he was being on voice.  

Your throat sometimes squeezed up, making it harder for you to say what you wanted. You didn’t even notice when you started to get nervous whenever you complimented him. Or used a pet name. You don’t remember when the last time was you felt so hot and giddy around someone else.  

But you knew that the feeling, despite it being slightly uncomfortable, made you feel mostly good. Happy.  

With how cold it was getting lately, your hands started to gradually become cold, to a point where you just couldn’t bear it anymore.  

“I think I should lay down and heat up, Kylar. My hands are cold as fuck.” You said. You exited the game and started to slowly close up other tabs you might have had open.  

“You could lay down a-and I’ll stream for you, Love! P-Please stay!” he sounded so desperate, it almost made you feel bad for wanting to go and lie down. A chuckle left your lips. He was so adorable. Like a bunny. 

“Sure. I’ll call from my phone in a few minutes. Need to change into my night clothes. Be right back, Darling!” and so you ended the call. You got ready and as soon as you laid in the bed, Kylar instantly called you, almost as if knowing you are in bed already. Huh. He must have some crazy 6th sense.  

You answered the call, getting comfortable under the covers. You already felt warmer, but not warm enough. Kylar pulled up some videos on YouTube as you guys chatted. Soon enough, he changed to Osu instead, showing you off his skill. Trying his best to impress you.  

“Jesus, my hands still feel so cold. F-fuck, my whole body is cold.” you mindlessly complained, snuggling more into the comfort of your quilt and soft pillows, impatiently waiting for your body to generate enough warmth. 

“I can be your blanket, Love!”  

You almost choked on your salvia as your breath hitched, suddenly feeling shy as you mulled over his words. He wants to cuddle you. Or was it something else? You felt so light-headed you weren’t really sure. You hid your face in your covers. 

“S-Sure. And I can be your pillow.” 

This time it was Kylar’s turn to blush. He stopped whatever he was doing in Osu, his brain short circuiting. He destroyed his own streak on the current Osu map he was playing and because of the level difficulty you soon heard an old retro melody that would signal that the map has been failed.  

His hands felt... Grabby. He desperately wanted to hug you. Feel you under his fingers. Give you the warmth you need. Slightly sweaty, too. He gulped. 

“W-We should meet up, if you really want to c-cuddle, Love.... Can we meet? Please, Love. I want to meet with you so badly. Give me the address and I’ll come as fast as possible, no matter how far you are.” 

His phone was already in the palm of his hand, looking up how far the busses and trains in his area would cost and how far they can take him. He was pretty serious about it.  

You felt so embarrassed by your words. You gripped your pillow tighter, bringing it close to your chest. You were unsure on what to say as you contemplated your next words. You really wanted that hug. 

“Okay, but... Only if you are somehow not that far away. Okay? You can come to (address)” you said. It wasn’t your home, but a place that was near enough. A gas station. A place where there are always people. It’s late and it would be the safest.  

Kylar immediately looked up the place and noticed it’s 40 minutes away by buss. He started grinning, a red flush took over his cheeks, reaching his ears and neck. He gripped his phone tighter, already packing things he might need into his bag.  

“G-Great. I’ll be there in an hour and a half! Jus-st wait for me, Love!” he ended the call, getting ready to meet up with you as fast as possible while you collected yourself and thought about what you have gotten yourself into.  

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

A few other things I've thought about while writing this one.

Some Kylar headcanons ahead!

They are probably into Otome dating games.  

In games like Osu! or Killing Floor, they are a casual player.  

More competitive games make them aggressive, although they don’t show it on chat if there’s a penalty. 

They do, however, make noises/sounds of frustration, maybe slamming their hand against the desk or keyboard, but never anything full-on destructive. 

Of course, Kylar will hold those reactions back when playing with you! 

To be honest, you have a calming effect on them.  

I feel like Kylar would be a Nami main when it comes to support, alternatively other cute champs like Lulu, Soraka, Lux. But enjoys an occasional Pyke or Senna.  

You bet they play anime songs/openings, Hatsune Miku or other Japanese music while beating the maps on Osu! 

If they are not playing anime songs/openings, they sure as fuck play emo/scene music. Pierce The Veil, Breaking Benjamin, Asking Alexandra. Sounds about right to me. Oh yeah, also listens to Night Core.  

I feel like at first, they would be court and short when it comes to messages. Mostly because they are shy and so they would seem cold at first. And yeah, you can’t hear their stuttering. 

But writing stutters and such also suits them lmao. I think they would use a lot of (…) whenever they write something. 

I am sure they would be voiceless at first because they would need to steal a microphone/headphones with microphone first, just so they can talk to you. 

#loving's writing #dol kylar #kylar the loner #degrees of lewdity kylar #kylar degrees of lewdity #kylar x reader #male kylar #dol kylar x reader #kylar dol #dol x reader #dol #degrees of lewdity x reader #degrees of lewdity

[risingoftime]

𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖒𝖊 | 𝖘𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖔 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

a/n: thank you anon for the request! I appreciate ya'll for being patient with me cause I am inconsistent with this shit. I hope I made it worth your while babes xo! Click the title for a song rec.

synopsis: Shuri is frustrated from being unable to keep her mind off of you, and you don't make it any easier. Amidst being long-distance and the bickering, you're unsure how to fix things between you. Then, a surprise visit forces Shuri to choose between the lab and love.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: alternate universe, university student!shuri, model!reader, SMUT, smut with no plot, oral, finger sucking, tribbing/scissoring, masturbation, fingering, light dom!shuri, edging, sex toy (vibrator), overstimulation, makeup sex.

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

I adjusted my camera tripod so that it faced me. The natural sunlight lit up my hotel room as I fumbled with the toy vibrating in my hand. Laying back on the freshly cleaned white sheets, I placed them between my legs, already slick from my arousal. I couldn’t stop my wandering mind from imagining it was Shuri’s fingers stroking me instead. Foreheads pressed against each other, watching her move her hand to push two fingers in and out of my pussy. I let out a breathy moan as I felt my walls tighten around her. I didn’t want to let her go. I could practically feel her presence against me. The vibrator increased its speed, circling my clit. I envisioned Shuri watching me as I got close to cumming. Observing how my back arches, I angle my body to get better access to the pulsating device. I deeply yearned for her touch, feeling sensitive and in need. I’ve never been this wet before, and It’s been so long since Shuri and I were able to be intimate.

“Shuri,” I moaned. 

It became more difficult to hold back. Finally, I gave myself over to the overwhelming pleasure that had grown inside my abdomen and no longer silenced the sounds that escaped my mouth. I threw my head back and rolled my hips forward, urging and pleading for Shuri to touch me instead. A heavy wave of lust passed through me as I rode to orgasm. My limbs began to relax, and I felt like I could melt into the hotel bed. Except she wasn’t there with me, and I was alone. Unhinging the iPhone from the tripod, I scrolled through our messages and hit send. 

Come and see me. @ Sonder 907 Main room 303.

As soon as I saw the video delivered, I felt my anxiety rise, waiting for her response. Shuri would spend hours and hours away from her phone when she was in the lab. It’s one of the main reasons why we’ve been fighting. At times I felt like my attention wasn’t enough for her. Something was constantly popping up at her internship, and I’ve tried to be understanding, but I’m rarely a priority. Shuri has always been a big dreamer, convinced she would cure cancer and otherworldly diseases, and I believe her. She’s almost completed her joint major in computer science and molecular biology, but I don't know if we’d last to see her cross the stage with her degree.

I can't resist the desire during the hours I’m alone without her. Booking a hotel near Shuri's campus may have been impulsive, but long-distance has never done me well. Especially with the break between modelling jobs after New York fashion week, this is the only time I’d have to spend with Shuri. I set down my phone and cleaned myself up in the shower. Once I finished, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed as I got ready for her arrival, whenever that would be. Slipping on my black robe, I checked my phone to see numerous missed calls from Shuri. It had only been less than an hour, and she should’ve been in the laboratory now. I would've sent a video sooner if I knew it was this easy to get her attention. I jumped from the knock on my door and peeked through the peephole to see Shuri. I took a deep breath and opened the door. 

“What are you doing here? I told you that I needed space.” Shuri’s face was set in stone and unmoving, not giving away the dormant emotions. A coping mechanism. But her eyes softened when she saw the short silk robe that barely hid the lacy lingerie underneath. 

“And I came so we could work it out like we always do.” Her straight facial expression slipped away, and she laughed at my double innuendo before stepping closer in my direction and closed the hotel door behind her. “No, you came to frustrate and finish me off.”

“Hi to you too, by the way. It looks like the video did its job; I finally got you out of the lab.” I rolled my eyes and moved away from Shuri. Her footsteps followed me to the main bedroom until her chest was against my back. I could feel her heavy breathing as if she was trying to calm herself. “Be honest. You’re not mad at me for dropping out of MIT. You’re upset I left. But I saw an opportunity and took it! Just like you did with your internship. The difference is that I make time for you,” I struggled to get the words out without raising my voice. I tried not to sound accusatory, but each sentence had more conviction than the last. I was wrong if I thought that Shuri would react to my anger. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me closer until nothing else mattered. 

“I never left, baby. You are the first and last person I speak to every day, I may not respond right away, and I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry.” Shuri’s lips hovered over my ear as her hands slowly unravelled the tie around my robe. I felt her long fingers trace over the hem of my lace panties, and my breath hitched at the possibility of her dipping further. 

“You think it’s just that easy? So that’ll forgive you just like that?” I sighed. She always left me in a trance just by her touch, and now, with her sucking on my neck, I felt my knees begin to give out. I’ve been craving this for so long, longing for us. But I wasn’t going to give in. My hand hovered over Shuri’s before I removed it and turned to face her. I had to go on my tippy toes to be face to face. It took all of my self-restraint not to act upon my lust. 

“What can I do to make it right? I’ll get on my knees for you. When you moaned my name on that tape, I practically fell to the ground.” Shuri’s voice had a certain raspiness when she got turned on. The way she looked at me, it was clear that her control was slowly slipping. 

“Tell me how bad you need me.”

“I need you like the air I breathe.”

Shuri responded without missing a beat, and the silence between us afterwards stretched out as we stood still, staring into each other's eyes and anticipating the other’s next act. It only took one move, and it was Shuri that took action. Her hands caressed and groped my ass before lowering her head to bring her lips to mine. The kiss was feverish and all-consuming. I hadn’t noticed that we reached the bed until the back of my legs hit the edge of the mattress, causing me to fall on top of the duvet. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk properly,” Shuri purrs. Her hands rubbed down along my waist, unabashedly greedy, until she reached the delicate fabric that hardly covered my pussy. Wasting no time, she practically ripped the lace discarding it to the side of the room. This is a side of her that I had not experienced. There was something feral about how she looked at me, like I was her prey for the taking. Shuri’s fingers stroked me, teasing my entrance without entering further. Simultaneously leaving love marks across my neck and breasts, without care about who might see them the next day. 

“Stop playing with me,” I begged. 

“Always so needy. You interrupted my work, and now I’m taking my time with you.” 

I let out a shallow whimper while pushing myself desperately against Shuri’s hands, searching for an inch she hadn’t put inside me. Instead, she spent another few minutes slowly worshipping my body, making my bare skin undeniably hot and sensitive. 

“Fuck Shuri”  I already felt pent-up from how long it’s been since we’ve had sex. I couldn’t stop thinking how much I wanted Shuri. 

“Shut up” Not an ounce of patience in her voice. She swore under her breath as she inserted her two fingers inside of me harder than anticipated. “Shit, you’re so tight,” she sighed into the crook of my neck. Shuri moved in a steady, punishing rhythm. I gasped and trembled against her body. My nails dug into her skin underneath her t-shirt, clinging to her as she mercilessly drilled inside me. With each thrust, she got deeper and deeper until the pads of her fingers brushed against my G-spot. 

"Oh, God, yes, I’m gonna cum” I cried. 

“Shh… just a little more.” 

I was unsure how much further I could hold back the bliss threatening to spill onto the sheets. Shuri was now acutely aware of my throbbing center and quivering thighs, my skin on display below, consumed by pulsating pleasure. Her mouth was slightly agape between sloppy kisses, pausing when our lips barely touched and breathing each other's air. Her eyes shut as her eyebrow furrowed in concentration as if trying to envision what she felt, the sensations she caused to run through my body. All that could be heard in the room was our deep breathing and the bed rocking. 

“Shuri, please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” 

Suddenly, Shuri forcefully pinned my wrists above my head with one hand and watched as I struggled to keep my composure while her thumb massaged my slit. “You sound so good, begging for it.” I don’t know if I was easy to decipher or if Shuri knew my body well. Yet, as my begging got louder and staggered, her pace became faster and harder until my climax came over me with a rush that caused my eyes to roll back. “Shit, you have such a tight hold on me,” Shuri whispered. I felt the wet spot beneath form in response. The tension that had a hold on my muscles relaxed against her. Finally, she removed herself from inside of me agonizingly slow to suck on her fingers before putting her mouth over mine. I could taste myself on her while she swirled her tongue around mine. It was all-consuming and hard to decipher what was to come next. Shuri was everywhere. 

Shuri parted from me to remove her shirt and reveal her toned dark skin, alluding to the late-night gym sessions she snuck in when she had time away from work and school. Her arms flexed when she groped my thighs to slide my body down to get closer to her. She left wet kisses on my chest, licking my sternum to my abdomen. Shuri paused there momentarily, leaving me in anticipation for her to move lower. Instead, she made eye contact with me while her tongue parted my folds, gliding up the wetness dripping. My hands played with the tips of her curls, tugging slightly when the tip got close to my overly sensitive clit. I couldn’t resist pushing my waist upwards, urging her to lick harder and take all of me in her mouth. Her eyes never left mine, not for a second. The noise I let out would’ve made me ashamed if I had heard it back, but Shuri encapsulated me.

“You like messing with my head, don’t you?” I asked. She’s been edging me with each lick and stroke, and- “fuck I’m all yours.” I would be hers, Shuri’s one and only. All my brain could think about was inching myself near. My hands were tangled in her hair, keeping her head still while I rubbed my pussy against Shuri’s face. Her nose bumped against my clit as her tongue delved deeper inside. “you drive me insane, and you don’t even know.” She mumbled against my clit in between licks. With each second, the waves of sensation became impossible to stay in one place. Just when I thought it could get any worse, Shuri began sucking on my clit with sensuous desperation. I could hear myself panting, my pussy throbbing as she began ramping up the intensity. “Yes, give it to me, all of it.” As if on her command, my muscles began spasming and just when I had felt like I was on the verge of exploding, I had let it all out, soaking Shuri’s lips and chin. 

“I- I never knew I could do that,” I whispered. I never knew that my body could release that much all at once. 

“Shit, I didn’t either.” Shuri laughed to herself as she wiped her chin and bottom lip with the palm of her hand. She pushed herself off the bed to unzip her pants and discard the rest of her clothes. I analyzed her body as she stripped before pulling herself over me, aligning her core with mine until she settled on me. The feeling of her warm wetness gliding against mine made me moan. 

“Tell me how I feel.” 

“Feels so good.” Shuri mumbled, looking blissed-out and high as fuck, with her eyes barely open. 

I couldn’t get enough of the way Shuri rocked back down against me, making hot, needy noises as she felt her body’s movement sync with mine. She tried to take her time and move slowly, but she ran out of patience. Shuri groaned, “Don’t stop,” a raspy noise compared to mine. I lifted my hips slightly as Shuri thrust, making the bed creak and hit the wall. Our cries got louder and louder.

“Tell me you want more.” 

“Baby, you got me addicted- I don’t want to stop.” Her breasts bounced while she moaned and cursed under her breath. She held my thigh to get the right angle to increase the hot friction between our legs. Another hand slightly pressed down on my abdomen as she chanted “yes” repeatedly like a prayer. Shuri’s breath hitched, needy and fragile, but still ready for more. “Yeah,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I want to see you cum for me. Cum in me.” 

“Oh God, Shuri”

“Ride it,” Shuri demanded. It was all the consent needed to grip Shuri’s hips as she heavily descended on me. It felt like I’d been split open and filled full of her, and Shuri didn’t stop until she was fully seated on me without an escape option. “You look so beautiful underneath me like this.” I knew that my hair which was perfectly pressed was now dishevelled against the sheets. Yet, she didn’t stop. Her hands kept roaming my breast and torso. Shuri wanted to feel me lose it and come apart under her command while I rolled my hips roughly into her. “A-aah, I’m coming,” Shuri gasped when she felt the warm spill of her orgasm drip on my skin. I trembled in euphoric pleasure till I lost all rhythm and felt Shuri collapse onto me in exhaustion. Our chests heaved up and down while we tried to catch our breath. I felt slightly lightheaded as I searched for the words to speak after it all.

“I think the only way to get you out of my head is to have you like this instead.” The way that Shuri muttered the words seemed as if she was saying it more to herself than to me. 

“Then why don’t you do it more often?” I smiled when she brushed my hair to the side with her hands to get a better view of my face. Her gaze was trained on me with a look in her eye that I couldn’t quite decipher. 

“Because if I do, I’ll never want to leave.”

#time creation #shuri x black!reader #shuri x fem!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #shuri udaku #shuri black panther #wakanda forever #black panther fic #shuri fanfiction #smut #shameless smut #shuri smut #mcu black panther #mcu #come and see me #marvel #lgbtq #lesfic #wlw #sapphic #modern au #mcu risingoftime #time request #mcu shuri #mcu fic #alternate universe #black panther #⟢CREATION OF TIME

[luna-azalea106]

Was talking to friend and started going crazy over mischaracterization of Leona and I will save her suffering and tell tumblr instead

(Cause this may be long nothing bad but maybe spoilers⬇️)

I hate seeing people calling him lazy and dumb because if they miss the very clear depression that he’s dealing with fuck them. The dumb thing I think I’ll tackle first I have(maybe) less to say. He isn’t dumb, by any measure. In his science west vingette he makes a potion that rook(someone who excels in that, less than Vil obviously but as a Pomefiore resident isn’t bad) took hours(or more) to make and proceeds to recreate in in under 5 minutes. He gets all the information and computer stuffs back after Vil’s overblot when no one else could. I imagine iginhyde/Idia wasn’t available, but considering that he was still able to do it amongst(supposedly) multiple other dorms. He didn’t fail a year because his grades weren’t good enough- maybe but not because he couldn’t, because he wasn’t there. It was his 3rd year. He’s always been second best, but presumably in his first year he may have been the best. He was older than everyone in his year already and had been trained and tutored for his whole life. Maybe his second year malleus shows up and he thinks nothing of it initially but quickly realizes that he’s back to being second and slowly gives up. Maybe by the time he gets to his 3rd year for the first time he’s so tired and has given up trying because it doesn’t matter. There’s always someone better. Maybe he was more willing to attend classes even if he knew all of it already because he had the highest grades and people saw how amazing he was finally. Then malleus shows up and he slowly loses that again. By third year he’s lost all that recognition and all that motivation he had was gone and sleeping his days away seemed like a better use of his time than being compared to another person. He’s not lazy. He’s not dumb. He’s exhausted from never being acknowledged or recognized and I know from my own experience that that can be so ridiculously discouraging.

Don’t even get me started on the way people write him to be some rude disrespectful brute. That’s a whole ‘nother rant I can go off about.

#don’t quote me on facts I forget little details quickly but ik it was him who fixed the computer stuffs #leona kingscholar #twst #twisted wonderland #twst leona

[ladydisasterinthemaking]

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Danny couldn’t believe it. He graduated high school with better grades than he imagined. Everything was also falling into place. His parents had accepted him as a halfa, and nothing bad has happened for almost a year now.

Well, he graduated, yes, but his grades weren’t on his sister’s level. Still, it was something he was proud of. Between making sure that Amity Park is safe from ghosts, going to Clockwork every now and then, and making sure he doesn’t fail at any of his classes, the road to a diploma was a hard one. (Although for some reason, the number of ghost attacks had gradually decreased until his usual rogues stopped attacking. They still visit Amity Park, but only to talk, hang out, or spar with him. It was strange at first, but he eventually got used to it.)

And now, in a few weeks, he is officially moving to Metropolis for college to become an engineer. It wasn’t what his younger self wanted, what with wanting to be an astronaut (not that he could be one, after what happened to him in the lab), but it was something more than what he thought he could ever accomplish.

(The deal-breaker was his parent's promise to protect Amity Park. He would have stayed and enrolled at Amity Community College, but his parents told him to live his life to the fullest.)

To celebrate their milestones together, Danny, Sam, and Tucker, together with Jazz as their chaperone for the summer, have decided to go wander around Metropolis and its neighboring cities as 'tourists' (Tucker and Sam had decided to go to Metropolis University, too, with the former studying Computer Science while the latter would take Journalism), partly because they will spend the rest of their college years in the city, and partly because compared to the other cities, Metropolis was safer because of Superman.

That means they can go anywhere and not fight.

'Not my circus, not my monkeys', as the saying goes.

Then Lex Luthor and Superman decided to duke it out in front of the Daily Planet, while the four of them were caught in a bank robbery.

The large LED TV inside the bank showcased the man of steel fighting the billionaire genius as the robbers scare everyone into submission with their guns.

The four of them looked at the LED TV, then at the robbers, and came to a decision.

-

Superman was in the middle of fighting Luthor when he heard the cries of various civilians, and a couple of criminals demanding a bank to let them in their vaults.

Then he heard gunshots.

Fearing for the worst, he quickly defeated Lex, told the cops to ship him back to prison, and flew to the bank, just to see a floating white-haired meta and a teenage girl conjuring plants tying up and freezing the robbers. In the corner was another boy typing on a PDA, and a red-headed girl comforting the other people in the bank.

The four people in question froze upon noticing Superman.

Two large vines immediately snatched the redhead and the other boy, while the white-haired meta phased them down the bank's floor.

So much for the saying, 'Not my circus, not my monkeys'. 

 - 

(This is terribly written. I haven’t done my research. Sorry for the quality of this short fic.)

#Superman calls Batman to ask if Poison Ivy had a kid or a relative #Team Phantom is panicking #They want to change schools but that would be a bit impossible now #Is it too late to move to a place without superheroes? #Team Phantom cannot ignore the things happening in front of them #They will act if they have the power to do so #Good parents Maddie and Jack Fenton #Batman is having a hard time trying to find these kids #Tucker erased the CCTV footage of the bank #He's really great with tech and messing with it #But Batman finds a way eventually #The Justice League discovers Amity Park #then they discover Phantom #Team Phantom is not great at keeping secret identities #even with a capable tech wizard like Tucker #This is one guy against a couple of geniuses #Like Oracle and Red Robin #Ghost King Danny Phantom #but he doesn't know it yet #JL Dark also discovers Amity Park #Batman discovers the portal and Constantine panics because that is a portal to the afterlife #Batman panics too #everyone panics #The Justice League goes to Amity Park #Maddie and Jack Fenton meets the JL #The JL are having a mental breakdown as these two mad scientists do insane things #Jack and Maddie apologized for the bias and proceeds to edit and revise their research because they are horrified of what they did to Danny #Now they travel to the Ghost Zone to bring awareness to the ghosts and topple the GIW with science and common sense #Batman drop those adoption papers down #dp x dc

[neptunedivine]

astro observations pt. i

✧ neptune in aquarius generation ✧

(tw: possible conversational topics)

Hi everyone! I wanted to first say thank you so much to everyone who liked, reblogged, and/or followed me after my recent post. I wasn’t expecting that response at all and it really made my week!! I also wanted to mention that I am not an astrologer, I’m a computer science student (whose semester starts in a week) so consistency isn’t a strong suit rn. Regardless, I appreciate the support. 🥰

Here are a few observations I’ve noticed with the Aquarius Neptune Generation (as someone with this placement) - I do relay my points back to astrology but these are just my opinions. It’s okay to disagree! :)

✧ for context, Neptune rules over the zodiac sign Pisces and themes of dreams, illusions, mystics, intuition, imagination, etc. Aquarius and those who carry placements in this sign (more obviously if the placement is prominent) express characteristics of intelligence, invention, humanitarianism, friendliness, altruism, and reformation.

fake activism ✧ I feel like a lot of people in this generation are only activists online, or the power they either choose to or believe that they have is digital. Like they will repost an infographic about a human rights issue but won’t make any physical permanent change (i.e. a donation or bringing it up in conversations with their friends to spread more awareness). That activism and reformation being talked about is the Aquarius feature, but the lack of permanence is the Neptunian feature.

✧ I could go deeper into this but I feel like the discussion could be seen as controversial, so I’ll spare the details.

fake wealth ✧ There are a lot of influencers and people on the internet that flex their wealth online. Presenting this false persona of themselves. In reality, this isn’t true. I feel like a lot of the time we’re told this but without knowing how many people are doing this. Traditionally the 11H is governed by Aquarius and one of the themes of the 11H is community, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a lot of people. I feel like when Saturn transits Taurus in the future, this could come to light?

(Saturn will transit through Taurus until fall 2029, go retrograde in Aries until spring 2030, and will remain in Taurus until spring 2032)

✧ The only reason I infer this is that Saturn returns are like check-ins to make sure you’re putting in the work to take care of yourself, your life, and your decisions relating to your Saturn placement. If you have, you will be rewarded by Saturn, and if not you will be disciplined. And something about lying to people about your wealth seems valid of that discipline.

being chronically online ✧ This one annoys me because I swear the world would be a much better place with common sense and critical thinking skills…anyway. A lot of people try to be a voice for what they view as an underrepresented community, without questioning the validity of their statement.

today someone in a comment section on my fyp said that “being chronically online is an insult to chronically ill people” 😐😑😐

that’s all for now. see you later!

#Neptune #neptune in aquarius #11H #11th house #astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #astrology opinions #saturn in taurus #Aquarius

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

this chapters kinda short but I wanted the ANGST to have its own moment lmao, loved leaning into damian’s insecurity for this one

also thank you dami for refueling bentley’s incredibly irrational and borderline stupid idea making tendencies

part nine

❝ PITY ❞

THURSDAY — AUGUST 6 — 5:11PM

BENTLEY DIDN’T SLEEP AGAIN AFTER HIS NIGHTMARE, AND NEITHER DID BRUCE. Instead, they went back to the cave after a while and sat with Dick. All of Alfred’s swabs and tests came back clear, which meant he hadn’t been injected with, inhaled, or even misted with any kind of toxic chemical that could do this to him. (Bruce had told Bentley about fear toxin, an inhalable chemical one of their past villains used that made a person live through their worst fears in their head.) A quick comparison of current Dick’s vital charts and past-Dick-on-fear-toxin’s charts looked freakishly similar, despite one major change: he didn’t have any fear toxin in him.

Which meant, if it wasn’t chemical, he was being attacked psychologically. Somehow.

All signs pointed to it being the Secret Keeper, but she hadn’t done anything to anyone besides plaguing them in bad dreams, much less knocking them out without touching them and wreaking havoc on their brains for six hours. (Which was how long Dick had thrashed and cried and whined for in his unconscious state.) On hour seven, he went limp and still, which probably meant he’d tired himself out. 

Bentley didn’t go to school on Wednesday or Thursday, and he didn’t sleep Wednesday night, either. Bruce didn’t seem to mind (he actually seemed a little relieved) and Bentley didn’t want to risk seeing the Secret Keeper out and about. His teachers posted his classwork online, anyhow, so he wouldn’t miss any schoolwork. He spent the better of the two days switching between using Tim’s old computer to do his schoolwork, playing red light green light around the Manor to avoid Damian, drifting down to the cave to check on Dick, and attempting to take power naps that never lasted that long. 

Not to mention being texted… like a lot. Ot started when Nico texted early Wednesday morning to ask if he was okay, and why he wasn’t at school. Bentley simply told him he had been sick the night before. (Technically not a lie.) Then Nico took it upon himself to text Bentley all about their environmental science class, even including pictures of their worksheets, and had also taken it upon himself to ask how Bentley was feeling just about every hour. (He always just said better than last night.) Then, Bentley got a text from a random number at lunchtime on Wednesday about how Damian was, quote-on-quote, so creepy. And only ten minutes later and lots of confusion from Bentley did that number come back and say, oh yeah, it’s asten, got your number from nico. heard you were sick. sucks dude.

While Asten wasn’t as incessant about asking how Bentley was doing as Nico was, he did tell him about Spanish class and rant about Ms. Venetstantos making him speak Portuguese every day. And he decided Bentley was a good outlet for all things conspiracy and detective-y, because he kept sending him random articles about metahumans and missing people and Secret Keeper sightings and typing long, drawn out theories about what was going on that ranged from plausible to outright impossible. (Bentley only pretended he read the ones about the Secret Keeper.)

He didn’t remember until those texts that he and Asten had both put detective as their dream job on their get to know me sheets. (Nico had pointed it out on the second day of school when the teacher put those up in the hallway.) He was obviously getting started early. The amount of recon and web-surfing and conclusion drawing he did reminded Bentley of Tim.

Speaking of, Tim and Jason and Steph and Cass had all shown up at the Manor Wednesday and Thursday. Which was strange, considering they’d all been avoiding Damian like the plague. But he didn’t mind — he liked having everybody home.

Bentley started to get really worried about Dick when, on Thursday at five in the evening, (42 hours after Dick had collapsed on Patrol.) he was still laying in that same bed, not thrashing like before, but tossing and turning, still visibly distressed.

He’d been long since changed out of his Nightwing uniform and into some loose sweats, and was connected to drips and other things to keep him hydrated and nourished in his unconscious state. Bentley had finished another color-the-map geography paper about an hour ago and made his way back to the rolling chair stationed next to Dick’s bed.

He had no earthly idea what was wrong with him, but he wished it would all stop. It'd been hard enough seeing Dick during a nightmare he could wake up from — but now, when he was trapped in his own head and no amount of yelling or shaking could snap him out of it, it was practically a form of secondary torture for the entire family. Tim had retired to the Batcomputer, trying so hard to find some kind of solution, or at least a case of something similar, and Bentley didn’t think he’d been upstairs since Dick collapsed.

As of now, five in the evening on Thursday, he, Bentley and Dick were the only three in the cave. Alfred popped in and out often, and Bruce a little less often. 

Bentley was sitting next to Dick’s bed, telling him about all the texts he’d been receiving. (Alfred said talking to him would help, so Bentley was trying his best.) He’d taken to telling him about Asten’s conspiracy theories and the new group chat he’d been added to not three minutes ago, with Nico and Asten, in which they were arguing about the possibility of said conspiracies and asking for Bentley’s input. (Asten’s conspiracy about aliens swapping a human’s brain for an alien brain via something he called ‘materialization tech’ and endowing them with the power of the stars being the origin of metahumans was the one on the table now. It was already segwaying into metahuman world domination.)

But eventually, even with the group chat blowing up his phone with the probabilities of metahumans turning the country into a dictatorship, he fell quiet and just took to holding Dick’s hand. He didn’t scream when he grabbed it, at least. But it didn’t seem to make anything better, either. 

He was just debating on whether or not he should try to wake him up again when a voice sounded from the doorway of the medbay:

“Hey, Bentley,”

He glanced over, brown eyes locking onto Tim’s icy blue ones. He looked exhausted. Bentley knew he’d been working hard on the missing person and metahuman cases before this happened to Dick. But now? Bentley wasn’t sure if self-preservation was even on his radar anymore. He hadn’t seen him ingest anything other than coffee in a solid two days (given he very well could have when Bentley wasn’t around.) and he was pretty sure sleep wasn’t even a thing he thought about anymore. Though he looked like he needed it.

“Hey,” Bentley replied quietly, slipping his hand out of Dick’s and pulling it back to his lap. 

“Doing okay?” Was Tim’s next question, and he moved forward just enough to rest a hand on the top of Bentley’s head. 

He shrugged. “Have you found anything to help Dick?”

The weakly plastered-on content expression fell off of Tim’s face. “No. I haven’t been able to find anything.”

Bentley said nothing, but looked back at Dick, who was moving his head back and forth with soft whines.

“Is he going to die?”

It was a heavy question, yeah, but a question that had undoubtedly been floating around in all of their minds since his unfortunate patrol. With all the metahuman stuff out of the way, Dick would technically be classified as in a coma. And lots of people who went into comas didn’t come out of them.

Bentley heard Tim let out a puff of air. 

“I don’t know,” He said, hardly a whisper, letting his hand move down Bentley’s head and rest on the back of his neck. “He’s stable, even if it looks like he’s in pain. It’s not ideal, but it’s… better than anything getting worse, I guess.”

Bentley nodded slightly, and hoped that Dick would get better soon.

He heard someone walk across the room on the other side of the cave, and both he and Tim glanced over just in time to see Damian disappear back up the stairs to the Manor. When had he come down there? He wasn’t down there five minutes ago.

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Tim suggested after a quiet moment. “He might actually open up to you.”

Bentley glanced over at him skeptically. “Damian? No he won’t.”

Tim snickered. “That kid would never in a million years cuddle up next to anybody sick like he did you. And he definitely wouldn’t get up in a hospital bed with any of us except, maybe Dick.”

Bentley said nothing. He did kind of miss Damian. Like, the old, not-angry Damian, that took him around the Manor to do things and actually talked to him. 

Bentley shrugged. “I’m afraid he’s gonna stab me.”

“Aren’t we all?” Tim snickered. “Seriously, though, he cares about you. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“I know, but…” Bentley trailed off, glancing down at his hands.

“There’s still a chance,” Tim finished his thought. “Yeah, I know.”

Bentley said nothing.

“It might be good for you to go upstairs for a while,” He continued, and Bentley glanced back up at Dick, who was still shifting uncomfortably in the bed. “I’ll sit with him.”

Bentley nodded. He wasn’t really in the mood to argue, and he needed to finish his schoolwork anyway.

He pushed himself out of the chair and bid goodbye to Tim, heading back up to the Manor. He took to reading the group chat messages he’d missed on the way through the house and up the stairs. Nico was currently trying to explain to Asten that aliens couldn’t use technology he’d made up, and he was arguing that they could because they could read everyone’s minds. 

Bentley had nearly made it into his room when he bumped right into someone.

“Sorry-“ He muttered, glancing up from his screen to meet Damian’s ice cold blue-green eyes. The assassin’s glare alone shut Bentley up.

Damian walked past him with nothing more than a faint scowl, heading for the stairs.

He wasn’t planning on talking to him, but it was a better opportunity than seeking the angry assassin out.

“… hey, Damian?”

Bentley turned on his heel, and Damian did, too, shooting him another dagger-like-glance.

Bentley wanted to recoil and say nevermind, but that wouldn’t be very helpful. “What’s wrong?” He asked instead, really focusing on the fact that Tim said Damian wouldn’t hurt him.

“You should know well enough, Whittaker,”

Bentley nearly flinched when Damian used his last name instead of Bentley like he always did. Why in the world would he know what was going on when Damian wouldn’t tell anyone?

“I don’t…” Bentley blinked, searching Damian’s face and then looking at the floor when the unpleasant expression got too reminiscent of his father’s. He knew what that expression meant. And coming from Damian, it made him want to cry. 

A moment of silence passed, and when it was clear Damian didn’t intend on speaking, Bentley muttered in a tiny voice: “You’re mad at me?”

Silence.

Bentley thought and thought and thought about all the interactions he’d had with Damian before he started getting upset, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember doing anything wrong. He’d asked Damian to teach him about throwing knives, but he’d told him yes. (He hadn’t done it yet. Was it maybe Bentley’s fault for never asking again?) He didn’t think that was enough to make Damian so upset for so long.

Bentley wished he could bring his knees up, but he was standing, so he wrapped his arms around himself instead. He hoped Damian couldn’t see the slight wetness brimming in his eyes at the very prospect he’d done something so bad the assassin didn’t even want to talk to him anymore and he didn’t know what it was. 

He looked at the floor in a vague attempt to hide it. “What did I do?”

“Exactly what you’re doing right now,” Damian replied bitterly, in a tone that literally made Bentley want to start crying. “You weaseled your way into this family with nothing more than pity. All you have to do is shed a few tears and you have the whole household at your feet — the only reason you’re here is because my father and brothers feel bad for you. Because you’re exactly what your father trained you to be. A manipulator.”

Bentley did flinch, that time, like he was dodging knives made of words. It wouldn’t be any use — Damian never missed.

“Your relationships are built on pity, your place in this family is built on pity. Even Drake has contributed more than you, and I’m not shy about discussing his obvious inferiority,” Damian spat. “I am a Wayne by blood and I have to work to be part of this. If I had even considered doing anything like you did with your father, considered betraying this family like you did, they would…”

Damian trailed off.

“You don’t deserve to be here. It’s pity that’s keeping you in this house, pity that’s holding your relationships together, and once that pity is gone, what’s going to be left? Nothing. Because pity is all you are. Pity is what you’re built for, and once it’s gone, you’re going to be left with nothing, useless, just like your father created you to be.”

Bentley watched through blurry eyes as Damian turned and continued down the stairs like he hadn’t just dispatched a carefully-sharpened killshot right through Bentley’s chest.

Damian didn’t want him there.

Thank goodness he was right next to his bedroom, because he hardly had time to get inside and close the door before he started crying.

Everything Damian said was right — he was in this family out of pity. If it weren’t for pity, none of this would’ve happened.

And Damian didn’t want him there. This was his worst nightmare. Tim was wrong, Damian had hurt him.

He walked over to his bed in the dark — the lights were off but the sun was still somewhat out — and curled up in a tiny ball in it, covered his head with the blankets, and cried.

Dick had been taken in when he had nothing, and became Robin to help Bruce fight crime. Jason got taken in off the streets and became Robin. Tim got taken out of a neglectful household and became Robin. Damian got shipped here from overseas to be Robin. Cass, Duke, Steph, Barbara, they were all superheroes, crime fighters, vigilantes. 

What the hell did Bentley have to do to make himself deserve being a Wayne?

Become a superhero?

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

#bat family #batboys #batfamily #batfam #batman #oc; bentley #oc; bentley whittaker #mb; a hundred ways to become a wayne #ov; secret keeper #ov; the secret keeper #ov; charlie reins #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #oracle #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #cassandra cain #orphan #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #duke thomas #signal #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dc robin

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 4 - Mistakes▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤ Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?

All alarms are going off in your useless excuse of a brain and you started feeling an immense amount of dread seeping into your bones. ◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five

Chapter 4 - Mistakes

It was ninety-three MILLION fucking miles away and somehow the sun still manages to shine through the blinds and right in your fucking face.

You squint at your phone.

150 missed messages from the Comp-Sci project group chat and another eight from Taylor.

The past one and a half weeks were pretty uneventful. You slept, climbed ranks in the holy trinity of Riot Games, worked part time and showed up to your classes—if only half of the time.

You were particularly prone to dodging your computer science class, telling yourself it wasn’t for any reason in particular.

In short, you were doing fine. The ‘free’ time you had felt boring and seemingly peaceful. Luckily boring was exactly what you needed—especially when most of your life was anything but. That being said, it was hard to ignore your ape brain that was craving the instability and the stress you got used to growing up. Having academic goals and working hard towards them helped that aspect of yourself quite a bit, but it still felt like something was missing. Something only years of therapy and healthy relationships with people would change.

As the deadline was quickly approaching, it was finally time to check what the project was about and do your part before your presentation on Wednesday. The phone numbers of three other people you’ve never heard or cared enough to learn the name of were displayed on top of the chat.

You scroll down and notice they’re freaking out about two of the members—one of them being you—not sending their part yet, despite the deadline only being about two and a half days away.

Yui(I think?) – What do we do about the others, Ojiro…? :( Guys pls, I don’t wanna do everything alone. [Sent 9:13 AM]

Mashirao(jock blondie) – I will call them later today, and if they don’t reply then, we’re on our own I guess. We’ll have to let the professor know. They should know better by now, honestly. Can’t believe one of them is an ‘honors student’, what a damn joke. [Sent 9:17 AM]

Yui(I think?)– Ahh! Stop! They can read this too!! [Sent 9:25 AM]

Mashirao(jock blondie)– Let them. They need to feel ashamed for making us do all the work. [Sent 9:17 AM]

You roll your eyes at their childish hostility.

Wow, firstly, they had absolutely no faith in you, you think. Secondly, are they three years old? They are openly discussing fucking you over in a group chat that you’re literally part of. At least do that shit in your DMs, not in the open where everyone can see them.

If you really thought about it, it was sort of fair. You probably are the world’s laziest, biggest procrastinator, but what they didn’t understand is that you’re not bad at farming credits. Two days of work is more than enough for you to do your part and then some.

You’re horrible in almost all aspects of life, but your high achiever brain will always power up when you need it to. If anything, you never understood how other students needed so much time to figure out their shit, the material is always pretty straight forward unless the professor botched it themselves, but it wasn’t the case here.

Yui(I think?) – Yeah so… I finally added my part to the shared doc! If by some miracle the other two see this, you guys have access to it too. Please please send yours in time, I don’t want to almost fail CS again this year maaan ;_; [Sent 10:30 AM]

You – ill get everything done before the deadline, don’t get your panties in a twist. also pro tip, if you tap the back button on the chat window, look for someone’s phone number and then open it, you can actually write all your shitty comments privately ;) ttyl [Sent 2:14 PM]

Before you close the chat window, you see two rows of angry dot animations ready to cuss you out.

Too bad you couldn’t be bothered.

And so you stand up, take a shower—for the first time in a couple of days—and mentally prepare yourself for two weeks worth of work squeezed into a one all-nighter and a half.

After all, in stress, you thrive.

─────────

Thud –

Dropping your bag next to your desk, you slide in your seat.

Your favorite neighbor’s white haired head is buried in his arms, laying against his desk and possibly taking a goddamn nap. This motherfucker.

The two week creep-detox did nothing for you, as you noticed your disdain for him was still as fresh as it was the night at the convenience store—if not even stronger.

Not only did he not fucking reply to your group in time—as if you did—but he also didn’t contribute to your project whatso-fucking-ever. In fact, he’s never read any of the group chat’s messages.

You were beyond fucking annoyed at him, because—to your group’s surprise, not only did you do your part, but you also covered for his and fixed everyone else’s. Incompetent fuckers.

It was stupid to let yourself get walked all over, but at least it shut both of the idiots up and that was enough motivation for you to get the job done. That, and the scholarship you fought to keep rolling every year.

There’s two interesting things that you found out during this group project. The first one was that the asshole’s name was Shigaraki fucking Tomura.

The Shigaraki Tomura.

You’d heard about his infamy over the years—never being able to put a face to the name—but nothing came even close to the stories Taylor began telling you about him.

‘Like girl, do you live under a fucking rock?!’ is what your friend asked extremely dramatically before setting off on spilling the ‘tea’ for ‘your uncultured ass’—whatever the fuck that meant.

It looks like the mystery slacker wasn’t just a random incel loser who got off on paying for stranger’s energy drinks and cup noodles, but also seemed to be a serious anti-social, borderline criminal individual.

According to the stories, he’s now been in court more times than you can count, charged with various offenses that ranged from physical violence, assault, theft, vandalism, drug-related charges, to more minor ones such as trespassing and public disturbances—either of them involving either students or straight up gang members.

Aside from that, he’s friends with a bunch of other convicted criminal misfits, seemed to have spent a few months in juvie and multiple people apparently promised he’s not all talk when he threatens to beat the shit out of you, never discriminating between guys or girls. You’re pretty sure that this wasn’t what women fought for when they said feminism.

That alone begged the question if he was gonna make good on the promise to fuck you up last time you so much spoke to him. Thinking about it left your mouth dry.

There was also a reason as to why he’d managed to get out of trouble every goddamn time. That reason came in the shape of his adoptive daddy’s wealth and connections, which was a convenient ‘get out of jail free’ card and something normal people (you) couldn’t afford. A true show of society’s totally unbiased conduct towards the mighty upper class.

All of this useless information that now occupies your brain, only proved to you how much of a massive piece of shit the guy was.

It doesn’t matter what his past was like, you quickly decided. It also doesn’t matter if you can relate to the shitty overblown rumors that were circulating around him. Or that you shared similarities.

What really matters right now, is that he’s actively trying to jeopardize your perfect score sheet—and by extension, your scholarship—by not stepping up and contributing to the project.

He continued resting on his desk, scratching the top of his head and yawning while not paying you any mind.

You bit the skin off your lip anxiously, unable to wait and teach this entitled little asshole a fucking lesson for messing with you.

─────────

It was finally your group’s turn and all of you gathered in front of the lecture hall.

Well, all of you, save for Mr. Creep in the back corner of the room, who was still hunched over and scrolling on his phone indifferently.

If the rare upturned corners of your lips was something to go by, you were in for some serious mischief today.

The professor opens up with a brief introduction to your project, and your group finally starts presenting. It all goes well, except for the fact that despite your age, you have this incredible stage fright making you stutter pretty fucking badly for most of your speaking turn.

It gets worse the moment you realize that somewhere along the presentation, a pair of piercing red eyes began studying you incessantly. His sudden attention to you made your body sweat about three times the amount everyone else’s would combined. It was extremely jarring, in the worst sense.

You scoffed at thinking that he might as well have pinned you to the wall. Like he knew you were up to some bullshit. Like he could smell it.

Realistically you know there’s no way he could have possibly known, but the tiny guilty part of your lizard brain wasn't able to comprehend that right now.

That’s when you steeled your flimsy resolve and you tried to recover your composure as much as you could, doing your best to make-believe you were at his funeral instead and get to the end of your stupid speaking part.

You could tell you embarrassed your group mates with your awful public speaking skills, as their parts are much more animated, smoother and confident in comparison. But it didn’t particularly bother you aside from a slight hit to your ego, because you knew that the professor would read the documentation and ultimately see the amount of work you put into the written part of the project.

Your shitty teammates could glare at you all they wanted, but you did more than half the fucking project on your own and that would lead to one thing only—a great fucking score.

Who needed social skills—not that you were proud of any—when your future job will probably only require you to sit behind a screen most of the day—something that you’re already really fucking good at, to a detrimental point. It was a miracle that you made it so far in life without your vision getting much worse than it was.

“Very good,” the professor says.

He begins praising the sturdiness of the project, mentioning your name—making you cringe—and unfortunately pointing out the bumpy part—your bumpy part—of the presentation.

Overall, he was quite impressed with the quality and execution, and promised to email everyone their scores, once he’s done correcting them.

“However,” you heard him talk again, his following sentence filling you with extreme giddiness. “I seem to notice you’re missing a member of your group?” the professor trailed off with a furrowed brow as he stared at his notes. “I’m positive I’ve assigned everyone four people, but your project only mentions you three. Why is that?” he flips through his papers and checks his laptop as well for something akin to an error on his part.

“No, you’re correct, sir,” you chime in mischievously. “Mr. Shigaraki over there,” your speak up and your eyes meet his unexpectedly focused ones. His expression seemed to become almost intrigued at the prospect of your little scheme. He was sitting a little straighter than before. Listening.

As if this class finally became interesting to him, opposed to almost falling asleep in his chair earlier.

You clear your throat after feeling it contract with a pang of anxiety and continue, “—decided that we weren’t worth his precious time, and sadly did not contribute to our project whatsoever.” you end your sentence with a pout. “In fact, he dumped all of the work on us and didn’t even communicate. I��um, we thought it was for the best that he doesn’t free load on all of our weeks of hard work, sir.” you slip up, but promptly recover and you notice how the other two NPCs in your group stared at you in horror.

Despite lumping them in with you so you wouldn’t get in trouble, they did in fact not know or had any say in your decision to leave Shigaraki out—not that you cared to ask for their worthless opinion anyway. After all, they should be happy for the free full marks that you’re confident they wouldn’t have gotten without your help.

You wore a sly smile on your face.

Fuck him, his stupid face and his shitty attitude.

Checkmate, Shigaraki, you muse to yourself, smirking and gauging the reaction of the professor who seemed to be deep in thought for a moment.

When you looked back at Shigaraki to check how he’s faring, knowing you set him up—

You felt literal chills running down your spine.

He was simply smiling at you.

A wide, creepy and weirdly calculating smile.

A smile that told you, you’re in trouble.

Like a bucket of ice dropping over your head, you just grasped the mistake you’ve made. The reason why your classmates stared at you in disbelief. The reason while the whole room stared at you in disbelief.

He is a rich trust fund kid, whose background consists of only unpunished violence and nothing to lose. You, a lower class student, fucked with him knowing the horrible stories that circled around him. So why was it again that you didn’t believe he was capable of retaliating, even when you heard how most of the students avoided him like the plague? Did you think he would be as pathetic and powerless as you were?

Honestly, what the fuck were you thinking?

All alarms are going off in your useless excuse of a brain and you started feeling an immense amount of dread seeping into your bones.

You needed to take this back right fucking now or who knows what he’s going to—

“Alright. I see how it is,” the professor interrupts your train of thought, scratching his chin, “To be blunt with you, I’m considering disqualifying your group’s entire project, for the fact that the bunch of you made such a hasty decision and did not think of consulting with me first to solve the problem.” you hear the professor say, feeling your gut twist and your two classmates glaring at you.

“I will however opt to only cut your score by twenty percent, because it really is an outstanding project, but I expect this to serve as a reminder that I do not tolerate insubordination and this instance is not to be repeated by any of you.” The professor looked at you, then at Shigaraki himself. “Have I made myself understood?”

You felt shame burn in your cheek as you nodded at him, but the boy wasn’t listening anymore.

It was as if the rest of the world—save for the two of you—ceased to exist at that moment.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #emotional hurt/comfort #shigaraki tomura #unhealthy relationships #dead dove do not eat #trigger warnings #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x you #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki #college au #reader is female

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve’s Disappearance Part 2

Eddie is pacing about the living room, debating whether it’s better to get takeout from Lucy’s favorite place or attempt to make her favorite meal. He’d never managed to do it right since Steve’s disappearance but maybe tonight was the night.

The phone rings and it’s Lucy. She’s not at Noah’s anymore but at Ashley’s, having an impromptu sleepover. He should’ve asked to speak to Ashley’s parents, make sure his daughter wasn’t imposing but he knew she never would. He should’ve made her come home anyway because they had things to discuss. But Eddie was clinging to any sense of normalcy and if his kid wanted a spontaneous sleepover then by all means. It wasn’t like the funeral was happening tomorrow.

Lucy was indeed over Ashley’s house and they were using her mom’s computer to look up any news from Hawkins that involved gang activity.

“There’s nothing!”

“So it’s like Noah said? Maybe they were at a weird costume party?”

Not satisfied, Lucy broadened her search for anything of note happening in Hawkins. The way her dads had talked about it, it was like a one-horse town. If something big went down, it’d make the news.

There was something about a mall burning down, that seemed unrelated. A laboratory admitting involvement with the accidental death of a teenager, and a slew of gruesome murders. That was her father on the front cover.

“Holy shit”, Lucy gasped.

Ashley shushed her.

He had joked about being accused of murder for years. It was always a joke! A joke! But there it was in black and white. He was eventually found innocent but Lucy understood now why he never wanted to go back.

“This is it. Someone had beef with my dad because of the murders he was suspected of. So they went took out my other dad as revenge.”

“I guess”, Ashley said. “But what are we supposed to do?”

“I tell my dad I know everything. And that I can help with the investigation now.”

“You think he’s gonna let you solve a murder? Not even your dad is that cool.”

Lucy knew she was right. And lately, she could feel her freedom slowly shrinking. Like he was afraid of something. “What do you got for bus money?”

“Barely anything and I’m not getting on a grubby bus this late. It’s like you never watched those stranger danger PSAs.”

Lucy did. She just found it ridiculous that EVERY adult you didn’t know was out to get you and yet somehow most of them looked like Uncle Wayne.

“Then we gotta call in a favor.”

Honestly, this person wasn’t even her first pick. The first was Uncle Dusty who indulged her so much he helped her make an actual rocket for the science fair. The fire had been worth it. But he lived out in Utah.

“Hey, Brittney.”

“Luce? It’s like 9 pm. Oh god was I supposed to babysit you tonight? Shit!”

“No, no, I just, I just wanted to talk, maybe ask you something.”

“Oh god. Here it comes. I’ve been waiting for this day. Lucy, you’re so strong but you shouldn’t bottle up your emotions like you’ve been doing and I want you to know that I’m here to help you through your fath-”

Lucy stops Brittney’s rambling. She didn’t call to talk about that. She called to ask her favorite babysitter to drive her and her friend an hour out to Hawkins. Now that she thought about it, it was odd her parents didn’t move farther away, if they had such a dark past there.

Brittney is hesitant, it doesn’t seem like a good idea to drive two preteens past dark to a town she’s never been in and the deal doesn’t sweeten anymore when Lucy says they’ve gotta get Noah too.

“Look, I’ll convince my dad to pay you extra each time.”

“.....I don’t know....”

Ashley takes the phone and says she’ll convince her 9 months pregnant mother to take her on as a babysitter when the infant arrives. Considering how loaded the family is, Brittney snaps at the chance. And so Lucy and Ashley pretend to turn in and sneak out, right to Brittney’s car. After picking up Noah they’re on their way to solve the mystery.

Eddie is watching a late night movie, feeling the typical bout of loneliness creep in and considering getting a pet when the phone rings for the third time that night.

“I must be Mr. Popularity today”, he says when he answers.

“Haha, I’ll ask what that means later but uh, this might be kinda serious, Eddie”, Robin’s voice is trembling as she speaks.

“What’s up?”

She asks if Eddie has seen one of the photos they looked at a couple days ago. The one with the four of them posed up.

“I’ve been looking and looking and it’s so iconic and I don’t have another copy so I was hoping it might’ve fallen under your couch or something cause we were absolutely blitzed that night like it was on the edge of irresponsible and-”

Eddie lets her go on as he searches all through the living room, the only place they would’ve had the picture. But it’s nowhere to be found. He tells Robin as such.

“Ooookay, so there’s an incriminating photo of us floating around. Don’t know what it implies but it can’t be good.”

“Maybe Nancy or Jon took it by accident?”

“Do you think maybe Lucy has it? It’s a pretty cool pic of her dads.”

The thought made his blood run cold. If his daughter ever found out anything about their past without someone to explain the whole thing. What would she think? What would she do?

“What are the odds that she tries figuring out what happened to Steve on her own like it’s a mystery?”

Robin reminded him that his little girl got nearly daily lessons on anti-heteronormativity, how capitalism was killing America, and how pitting marginalize people against each other only served their oppressors.

“Shit.”

“You might have a junior detective, Eddie.”

“Well, she’s not doing any investigating tonight. She’s at a sleep over.”

Robin didn’t say anything and then asked if Eddie knew about it beforehand. He answered no. She asked if he had spoken to the parents. Also no.

“Shitshitshit!”

“That’s what you get for raising a mini-rebel.”

#apo writes #fanfiction #stranger things #steddie #these are fun

[misty-moth]

hi, just ignore this if it’s too personal—

Why did you switch from comp sci to sociology? And do you enjoy your studies?

I don’t mind at all! It’s a somewhat long story (because I ramble 😅) so I put a tldr at the bottom 😭

Basically I signed on for a school that specializes in computer science. The gist was it was a sped up process where in 3 years you earn a bachelor’s degree and a guaranteed job. Which is a pretty rad deal. In theory.

I am nooot a fast learner. I think I’m pretty smart, but when it comes to memorizing it takes a hot minute to settle. I knew that going in, so I got tutoring every single day during lunch and after classes. I got to the second semester easily enough, but then I had a coding class with a particular teacher who lives in my mind’s hall of shame 😐

I was excelling at all of my gen ed classes, but if you fail any coding class at any time, you have to wait a year before you can take that class again, and you can’t move onto the next cs course because it’s a progression. So obviously I was trying my damndest to study so that wouldn’t happen. I asked a ton of questions during class, too, no shame if it meant passing.

And riiight at the end of the semester it all finally clicked. We had a project where I realized all of the math was mathing, I knew what programs to call, etc etc. But my teacher still just knew me as asking “too many” questions.

In the fine print of the college acceptance agreement, turns out a college professor there can change your letter grade if they feel like it. So I earned a 70.1% in the class (which is baaarely passing) but he switched it to an F. 🙂

So then I transferred because I wasn’t going to only take gen ed classes for a year on the off chance they pass me the next time (it was also crazy expensive ofc) so I transferred without any clue what I now wanted for a degree…

Funnily enough, what made me choose was a gender studies class I signed up for on a whim. It opened my tiny lil world from everything I learned from my childhood, and I realized I liked people 😅 I branched into sociology because it’s like psychology-in-motion, and figuring out why people do things made the world make more sense.

I don’t work in the field anymore, but I worked in the behavioral science field for a while. I taught a class of three year olds who’d experienced trauma how to cope/socialize, and later at an elementary school I was a med tech/receptionist/multi-office manager of a few behavioral units (they gave me a lot of hats but no raise 🥲) but the The ‘Vid happened and I burned out.

I loved working with kids, truly, but I didn’t make anywhere near enough to live so I had to give it up. The 3 yo job was $11 an hour and the elementary school was $15… for context. Degrees required for both *feels good inc laugh*

Tldr: I think sociology is really interesting, but I also found computer science interesting. I was just better at one of them 😅 I also would have been making a lot of money rn had I succeeded (my friends who graduated there are making six figures kill meee)

#thanks for the ask! #i definitely rambled but idk how to write less than this 😅 #but yea i’m always down for questions :3 #long post

[threehuskiesinatrenchcoat]

Well well well, we‘re back at it again.

You‘ve seen a big part of this before bc I can’t keep this shit from you, it’s a bit embarrassing ngl lmao. I finished it now tho!

The rest of it is on ao3 bc I refuse to post smut on here. Do others do it? Yea. Have I read it? Yea. I won‘t tho. I wanna be able to show my blog to friends, sorry. Can‘t have horny mfs on there for that /hj

This drabble is inspired by the John Wick movie-verse. people r legit sleeping that one

For easy access imma give y’all the link for the series real quick (and yes, I made it into a series, so any and all comments on later chapters r lost but it’s easier to navigate now, hopefully):

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3828004

Enjoy!

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Vargas was looking at him, all half-lidded eyes and contemplative smirk and it was driving him insane. They’d been at the bar for about an hour now, low lights dancing through the room, bathing it in a dizzying mix of pinks and blues, drinks flowing freely for everyone around them. Phillip knew this wasn’t the moment to get drunk, though. The mission to infiltrate the club and keep an eye on their mark had priority, no matter how much attention his mission partner was showering him with.

“If you’re not careful, someone’s gonna see the way you look at me”, he mumbled into his drink, surveying the dancefloor. Their mark wasn’t as far away as just a minute ago, making her way towards the bar they were sitting at. It was an opportunity, but he needed the Mexican to keep a cool head if he wanted it to work.

“What if I want them to see? The type of rumours it could spark…” The other’s taunting grin irritated him and he shot him a frosty glare.

“It won’t be as fun when the families get involved, believe me.” He ignored Vargas’ dismissive scoff and noted the mark’s position just two seats over. Honestly, there were better ways to spend a Saturday night, but the woman had dirt on high-ranking members of both their families. Discretion was needed and goodwill had to be shown, hence the involvement from both families – no one could secure the information to use it against the other later. Of course, it was Phillip’s luck to get paired with Vargas. Their continued shared work in the past, if reluctant, had proven successful and success was all their families needed right now. Personal vendettas were of no importance in this, never mind any other kind of previous mingling.

With a last warning look towards the other, who rolled his eyes and ordered another drink, he turned around, acting surprised at seeing the young woman close to them. He smiled charmingly when he caught her eye and feigned interest. “What’s a fine-looking lady like you doing here. We haven’t met before, have we?”

She seemed a bit suspicious of him, but smiled nonetheless, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, revealing a glittering earring. “I don’t think we have, no.”

“That sounds about right. I’d remember a woman as stunning as you. I’m Jason by the way, it’s nice to meet you,” he drawled, putting on his Southern charm and holding out his hand. He didn’t like leaning into it, but many people outside the South liked it enough for him to use it again and again.

She gingerly took his offered hand, shook it once and they got talking. Marienne was French and had studied computer science, she owned a small poodle and had a sister. Phillip nodded and smiled along despite knowing all of it already. There was nothing new she could tell him except where she had hidden the information she had hacked their databases for. He would find out, one way or another, the pressure of his gun against his back where he had tucked in into his waistband a welcome reassurance.

Marienne smiled at him again as she leaned forward, asking him to come home with her for the night. It went just as he had hoped it would, but before he could agree, a hand landed on his hip, making him lose his train of thought as Alejandro stood right beside them, eyeing the woman. Graves’ heartbeat synced with the song‘s bass reverberating through the club, heat spreading from where their bodies touched. He must’ve been listening in to their conversation and gotten up when he heard her request. Something dark glimmered in his eyes and Phillip had a bad feeling about it.

The Mexican looked her up and down and then spoke, voice rough and dangerous. “I didn’t think you would want to get back at me that badly. Is she supposed to make me jealous? You can do better.” It was clear he was talking to Phillip despite looking at their target. Graves was speechless; partially out of surprise, partially out of anger. Couldn’t Vargas take the mission serious for even a moment? This was a huge opportunity he was ruining, as the woman looked from him to Phillip and back again, a sliver of apprehension and fear in her eyes.

She was starting to stand up. He had to save this somehow. Standing as well, he forcefully, if discreetly, removed the other’s hand from his hip and pushed him away as inconspicuously as possible. “He’s joking, I’m not with him.” He smiled reassuringly at her and winked. “Why don’t we get outta here, it’s getting late.” She nodded, but was hesitant about it. Graves slipped a tracker into her handbag while she was distracted by Alejandro still only a few feet away from them. It turned out to have been the right decision, as the other grabbed Phillip’s hand still keeping him in place and brought it up to his mouth to kiss the inside of his wrist.

“Oh please, you can drop the act. My attention is all yours.” He practically growled the last words, sending a shiver down Graves’s spine. This was not the plan. Their target took that moment to give a hasty goodbye and vanish into the crowd. Angry, the American turned towards his assigned partner and glared at him. The bar was more populated now, so he ripped his hand out of the other’s and seized his arm, steering Vargas outside and into a nearby alley.

“What the fuck was that? We almost had her!” Alejandro just grinned and Phillip’s blood started to boil. He pushed the other up against the dirty wall of the alley, the suit’s lapels clutched in his fists and his own nose just a few centimetres away from the Mexican’s. With bared teeth, he had to hold himself back from pulling a knife and getting rid of the nuisance in his grasp. “Why can’t you behave like the professional you’re supposed to be for one evening.”

WELL WELL WELL dw dw ily and i would be offended if you _didn't_ give me spoilers to chew on sjhgfdjsfhgsdf >:)

with that i can finally post this thing i drew for it!!! yay

yall, go read the whole thing NOW as usual im losing my mind and screaming and crying and everything in-between im gonna bite my laptop in half and it's gonna be YOUR fault sir

#cod mw2 #call of duty #phillip graves #alejandro vargas #alegraves #johnwickau