#masters in sports science

[dy-patil-university-navi-mumbai]

A Leader in Higher Education in Sports Science

DY Patil University stands among the top universities in the nation. It is well known for its comprehensive approach to sports science in particular. Master's degrees in sports education with specializations of exercise physiology, sports biomechanics, and sports science are offered by the university that demonstrate their dedication to fusing modern technology, scientific ideas, and real-world application. These programs reflect the university's commitment to academic integrity as well as its adaptability to the changing demands of the international sports business. 

Sports Science Master's Program

The masters in sports science program at D Y Patil Deemed To Be University aims to provide students with a comprehensive understanding and specialized abilities in the multidisciplinary field of sports science. Students who want to expand their knowledge in subjects like athlete health and wellbeing and sports performance are catered to by this curriculum. The program guarantees that graduates are well-prepared to contribute to sports research, coaching, sports treatment, and fitness consulting by emphasizing a curriculum based on evidence-based practice. 

A Closer Look at Some of The Specializations

The university’s specialization- exercise physiology is almost akin to having a single exercise physiology masters program. The degree is designed to take students deeply into the scientific investigation of how exercise affects the human body. Thorough training in the physiological reactions to exercise and the ensuing effects on health is required for this advanced study. 

The curriculum seeks to create professionals who can improve sports performance, manage rehabilitation, and develop novel health methods by emphasizing both theoretical knowledge and practical experience. 

Developing Theory and Practice in Sports Biomechanics 

The sports science education has another specialization- sports biomechanics, that is particularly noteworthy. Almost like a  masters in sports biomechanics, the specialization takes into consideration the mechanical components of human movement. It blends in-depth theoretical instruction with hands-on laboratory experiences where students use biomechanical concepts to enhance athletic performance and lower risk of injury. 

Research Opportunities and Faculty Expertise

The faculty is one of its strongest points; they are seasoned academics and business experts that infuse the classroom with a plethora of information and expertise. The academic staff actively participates in research, publishing findings and making contributions to conferences, seminars, and publications. This dynamic academic setting encourages creativity and inquiry, giving students many chances to work on difficult research projects that are pertinent to current problems in sports science.

Contemporary Facilities

Modern facilities are available to facilitate its advanced academic programs. These consist of modern research facilities, libraries, and labs that are outfitted with the newest scientific instruments and books.

Getting Graduates Ready for a Changing Field

Graduates of the sports science programs at DY Patil University are equipped to take on the demands of a rapidly evolving and growing field. The university's all-encompassing approach to teaching guarantees that its graduates are not just well-informed but also flexible and creative thinkers. 

Graduates are well-known for their success in a variety of professional contexts, such as academic institutions, athletic groups, health and fitness centers, and professional consulting positions.

Sport science's future leaders are being shaped at DY Patil University, which offers strong academic programs backed by knowledgeable faculty and first-rate facilities. The institution is committed to improving its teaching methods as they develop in order to satisfy the dynamic needs of the international sports industry. 

#masters in sports science #exercise physiology masters programs

[goldenhourhimbo]

.

#I’m not dying on this hill but it took me five minutes to learn someone has: #the highest level of personal training cert a country offers #a masters in sports management #and is working on a masters in sport science #all signs that don’t point to unqualified #k thanks bye

[sportznextedu]

Sportz Next offers a 1-year international Masters in Sports Science & High Performance that encapsulated all the key domains that any professional needs to comprehend for improving the on-field performance of the athletes. The course provides a holistic understanding about the scientific and evidence-based international best practices and information through a structured curriculum. This is a unique Masters in Sports Science in India that provides a practical learning exposure to the students.

#Online Masters In Sports Science

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Breaking Your Ankle

Lucifer

"This was bound to happen sooner or later."

I mean, really, with all the stunts you play with his brothers and that sorcerer, it's more surprising that you didn't break anything before now. Thank goodness your room is on the ground floor. Now, here is a schedule of where you need to be and when, along with the brother who is your designated companion at all times to ensure you don't get stuck somewhere or fall over and break something else. This is a rotating position so stop fighting all of you!

Mammon

"Holy shit, humans break easy, huh?"

Assuming for the moment that Mammon didn't accidentally get your ankle broken by pulling some stupid stunt for Devilgram clout and involving you in it, he'll be extra careful with you for a little bit. People keep jostling you in the hall! Don't they realize you're basically made of glass and paper?! He'll clear the halls for you to hobble by with your crutches. Yep, you're earning all sorts of new friends.

Leviathan

"E-sports are the best activity when you're injured."

What a convenient excuse to drag you to his room more often than usual for anime marathons and all-night gaming sessions. Like Mammon, he's a little uneasy about this revelation about just how delicate you are, but nobody gets injured playing video games. He's basically protecting you from your next inevitable accident.

Satan

"Stop trying to do so much on your own."

Satan acts extremely annoyed when he sees you trying to hop somewhere without your crutches or lifting anything more than fifteen pounds unaided. Of course, he's just worried about you and expressing that in the most practical way he can. He repeatedly reminds you of advice on improving your recovery rate he found in medical books and the blogs of reputable physical therapists (he always checks into their credentials).

Asmodeus

"Poor thing! Let me spoil you!"

And that's basically what he does, whenever he gets the opportunity. This is a great excuse to get some much needed R&R, in his opinion, so the two of you will be visiting spas and getting massages and you aren't walking anywhere anymore, he is one of the Rulers of the Underworld and you are going to be carried on a litter, so help him Gardonus.

Beelzebub

"You need to eat well to get your strength back."

Prepare yourself for Beel's version of "eating well". You only had three eggs for breakfast? You'll never heal at that rate. Have another six and some bacon. Here's a protein shake. It's designed for demons so it's probably a little grittier than the soft stuff from the human world but it's exactly what you need. No, he doesn't have any science to back this up. Yes, he expects you to clean your plate.

Belphegor

"Of course you got hurt, running around all the time. You should just relax with me."

Little did you know this was all part of Belphegor's master plan...

What a perfect opportunity to spend every second of the day with you. Now that you're forced to sit around and avoid being too active, he has you right where he wants you (specifically, under the blankets with him while he sleeps). He'll remind you at every opportunity that you normally run yourself ragged, and you've earned some time to laze around. And now that you're injured, you have the perfect excuse!

Diavolo

"Your poor human bones... My home is always open to you if you need somewhere more convenient to stay. Please take care of yourself, in the meantime."

Rest assured, he will provide you with all transportation necessary to and from RAD. Or perhaps you would like to try remote classes? Leviathan finds them productive! And if you need anything, please let him know. He'll be in touch about five times a day just to make sure you remember that.

Barbatos

"I am only a phone call away should you require my assistance."

And he will be on call at all hours of the day and night, just in case. You'll be treated like royalty when you visit the castle too, of course. (Even more like royalty than usual, that is.)

Solomon

"Oh, that? Here."

He just magics your ankle better. There, there, little apprentice. He's surprised you didn't do that yourself.

Simeon

"What are you carrying? I'll take it for you. No, I insist!"

Simeon will be a perfect gentleman, helping you up and down stairs and carrying your books and shopping for you. He's very concerned about you somehow re-injuring yourself, and even when you're alright to walk without crutches anymore, he still *really wishes* you'd use them for an extra week or two, just to be on the safe side.

Luke

"You did what to your ankle?! Ankles can do that?!

Congratulations, you've introduced Luke to the concept of broken bones, and he will find the human skeleton creepy and gross for the rest of his life.

--------

@thefandomthings I know this isn't exactly what your ask was, but it's similar, so I hope you like this!

#this was in my drafts for weeks #time to do another gang reacts post #obey me #obey me ensemble #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #dthc #hcs #text post #lucifer #mammon #belphie #levi #satan #asmo #beel #the gang react

[agustdiv1ne]

telepathy (m) — cbg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok???)

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, ageless blogs dni!!!, mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), gyu's honestly a little strange + obsessive in this...anyways, dom!gyu, sub!mc, solo male masturbation, on my big cock beomgyu agenda, very brief mentions of daddy/sir/master kinks, explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way (it will all make sense, trust 🙏), degradation, praise, pseudo-fingering (idk how to explain it, f receiving), gyu calls mc: pretty girl, sweetheart, slut, whore, princess, mc calls gyu sir like once...whew! that was a lot, lmk if i should add anything!

note: you know i have a terrible bout of brainrot when the warnings are all nsfw related...yeah. Yeah. *presses post and runs away*

☆ playlist ☆

masterlist

beomgyu’s commute to work is, by all means, uneventful. 

the train is packed as per usual, filled to the brim with businessmen and office workers and other miscellaneous passengers on their way to whatever the hell their destination is. like most days, he finds himself towards the middle of the passenger car, snatching a rare open seat between a stone-faced man adorned in a suit — his head buried in a newspaper — and a slumped over college student nursing a cup of coffee. the poor kid almost looks like death itself, sporting dark under eyes, rumpled clothes, and a prominent slouch to his spine. not that beomgyu could really blame him; he remembers how easily college living (if you could call it living) can chip away at a person’s mental well-being. 

people-watching like this is what keeps him sane, he thinks. being surrounded by corpses all day, every day is more than draining — it sucks the soul out of him, really, being the only person on shift most of the time that he’s working, having to embalm and clean and pretty up all those cold, gray bodies so that their loved ones can say one last goodbye. it’s quiet in their minds and it’s all too quiet in the funeral home, the only sounds being the clanking of the embalming tools he’s been trained to use, his footsteps echoing down the tiled halls, his sighs of contempt when something small goes wrong — yet the living, breathing, warm people on the train provide a sense of normalcy, something to look forward to every day. to hear their thoughts, as prosaic as they are, has become a sort of saving grace from the lifeless, cold building that he finds himself in five out of the seven days of the week. honestly, if he can maintain a little bit of his humanity via strangers among the subway, even if it’s just by hearing their thoughts, then he’ll take what he can get. 

yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe. 

“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.

he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could. 

although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.

if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.

and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.

without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…

”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now. 

he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.

a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.

he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.

decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane. 

beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different. 

beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.

this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.

“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”

beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”

“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.

beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”

“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.

“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.

“yeah, i’ll think about it.” 

as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.

unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends. 

as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”

oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to. 

the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.

“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”

unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again. 

he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?

yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool. 

the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too. 

as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.

a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck. 

he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him. 

just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears. 

the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway. 

the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. 

when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.

he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it. 

groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become. 

“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”

would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek? 

“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.” 

he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly. 

“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”

he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks. 

reality crashes down on his head. 

he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe. 

“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”

beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.

over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings. 

he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.

it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure. 

over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive. 

by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him. 

at least, he likes to think that you do. 

staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.

though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold. 

“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning. 

still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace. 

that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel. 

“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him. 

he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.

there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.

when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.

with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.

friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster. 

“so, are you gonna try out?”

yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”

yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”

scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”

the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself. 

“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i’d probably pass you even if you sucked.”

“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win. 

he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious. 

just a little innocent curiosity. 

disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”

“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch. 

“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.

“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”

“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.

“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv. 

“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on. 

beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?

“...i guess.”

“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”

“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”

and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again. 

soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually. 

it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.

mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.

the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate. 

maybe the universe really is trying to apologize. 

the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.

and most importantly, he’s not a creep. 

you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.

you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now? 

beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…

wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…

he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?

in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…

“hello, pretty girl.”

you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.

“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”

“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”

your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”

beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”

sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”

a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”

“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.

your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.

“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused. 

“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck. 

“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”

“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward. 

you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—” 

“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”

fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…

beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”

rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” 

“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?” 

the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.

“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”

scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”

“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”

your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”

beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”

“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”

“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”

“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.

“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”

oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”

jackpot.

beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.

“it would be much easier for me to show you.”

“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.

chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action. 

something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him. 

“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”

another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad. 

“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck. 

you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”

his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.” 

beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”

you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead. 

“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”

you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away. 

“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough. 

“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”

two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—

then he finds it. 

your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.

god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.

it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?” 

you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.

you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever. 

and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want. 

“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”

“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”

a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore. 

“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you. 

the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick. 

meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you. 

“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”

imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner. 

thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”

finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off. 

“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.

no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.

“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”

you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.

“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”

attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty. 

“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. 

but good things come to those who wait.

“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”

you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”

“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.

“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”

the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”

his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does. 

“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #💌 — gyu #agust.nsfw

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

A Guide to Mastery: Finding Your Life's Work

Mastery is what we hope to attain. We hope to get a point where we become master of our fields, experts of our work, and mentors to younger people. But the big question we ask ourselves is "what should I do?" "what can I do?" "what is my purpose in life?" and that is a very big question that we might spend our entire lives trying to figure out.

It is difficult now, especially when we hear people talk about their careers, we see updates on people's career changes on LinkedIn and everyone is vying for a job in big tech, big law, consulting, Wall Street and you feel left out, not good enough, in fact discouraged.

However, you can find fulfillment by taking this self-discovery one step at a time, at a pace that best suits your skills, and still rise to the top.

Here is how to find your Life's work:

Look back to your childhood

Often to figure out what you want to do or who you want to become you have to look back to your past, your childhood. What made you tick? What classes were most fun for you? Who did you enjoy watching or spending time with growing up? The answers can give you a peek into the kind of life you want. Growing up I enjoyed reading biographies of people. I was obsessed with how they became successful and how they set themselves apart - now my writing mirrors that.

2. Find your niche

The uncertainty or discomfort you feel could be caused by not fitting into one field. You feel like you can do a lot more than there is out there. This is a great feeling. if you feel this way do not be discouraged. It is your life's journey to figure out the intersection of your interest. It is a sign that you should try out multiple things. Your career may become an amalgamation of your interest, ideas, disciplines, and fields. Here are some intersections that I found in people I admire:

Design + Technology - Steve Jobs- Apple Co-founder, Brian Chesky - Airbnb Co-founder

Food + Technology - Apoorva Mehta; co-founder Instacart

Culture + Commerce - Most architects, designers fit this category

Science + Art - Trip Hawkins; founder of Electronic Arts

Community + technology - Whitney Wolfe Herd; Founder of Bumble

Food + business: Kaspar Basse; founder of Joe & The Juice

Sportsmanship + design - Phil Knight; co-founder of Nike

Environmentalism + Sportsmanship - Yvon Chouinard; founder of Patagonia

These people are at the top of their fields. You can start by having a double major, or minoring in a totally different field (Art + Finance, Biology + Sports management etc)

3. Resist the pressure of the majority

There is always a group of people on the other side of your interest and skills - parents, friends, professors, peers who want something different from what you aspire to. You love art but they remind you that the pay is meagre, you want be a lawyer but they tell you, you are not good enough for law. You see, the salary you get paid for doing something you love should not stop you from getting started. You will eventually become so good that the value you provide will eventually command a huge compensation but for now bend down and learn.

4. Find a mentor

Once you get a glimpse of what you feel like you want to do. Find a mentor, your mentor could be distant or imminent. A distant mentor could be a renowned expert, a person you stumble upon through a book, an interview etc. Their story inspires you and you somehow you feel seen, you goals aren't so impossible anymore. The imminent mentors are the people you meet through school, work and whose work has some skills you need to learn for your Life's work. Your relationship with them or experience with them is the closest to reality of your Life's Work. Learn as much as you can in this process.

Welcome to my A Guide to Mastery series inspired by the book Mastery.

#self improvement #self love #growth #mindfulness #self development #beauty #education #classy #self care #self help #study motivation #mindset #mind control #emotional intelligence #booklover #book review #biography #motivation #self discipline #self worth

[annies0102]

F1 Masters thesis

Hello! My name is Annie, I am a masters student, currently doing research for my thesis that is about Formula One. This is a survey aiming to parse a variety of opinions to gain an understanding of Formula 1 fans’ experiences of the sport and surrounding politics.

If you would be willing to spend some of your time filling it in I would be extremely grateful!

If you have friends, family or acquaintances that are also interested in Formula One please do not hesitate to share this with them! The more responses I get the more interesting this will be!!

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #motorsports #survey #drive to survive #racing

[dy-patil-university-navi-mumbai]

Embracing the Spirit of Sports Science at DY Patil University: A Journey of Discovery

Sports science is the study of the body's response to physical exercise and how sports and active lifestyles can enhance health. This field particularly investigates the physiological, psychological, and biomechanical aspects of human movement. 

The aim is to apply this knowledge to improve athletic achievement, prevent injuries, and support general health across different populations. In such a niche field, one needs the support, mentorship and quality education– all of which is present at D Y Deemed To Be University.

A Holistic Environment for Quality Education

D Y Patil Deemed To Be University, established in 1983, excels in sports science education through its Master’s in Sports Science program at the School of Sports, Exercise, and Nutrition Sciences. The university features a Sports & High-Performance Centre with advanced labs for exercise physiology, sports biomechanics, nutrition, and psychology. 

These facilities and initiatives support the comprehensive development of students into skilled professionals in sports science. Let us have a look at some of the key features of these degrees:

State-of-the-Art Facilities

A Sports & High-Performance Centre and an Advanced Exercise Physiology Lab is equipped with the latest technology for simulating sports scenarios and studying athletic performance.

SRT10 Academy

A unique collaboration with cricket legend Sachin Tendulkar has resulted in the SRT 10 Academy which helps students develop  their skills under the tutelage of the Bharat Ratna recipient. This is truly a dream platform for true enthusiasts. Esteemed for its world-class facilities, under the proficient guidance of its leadership, the stadium at the university was named the world's sixth-best cricket venue by the ICC in 2009-10, earning accolades from the British Architects' Journal.

Advancing Women in Sports

The university demonstrates a commitment to gender equality through hosting major events like the FIFA U-17 Women's World Cup and AFC Women's Asian Cup. They have also  initiated the Women’s Premier League.

The Odyssey for the Masters in Sports Science

The master's in sports science is a postgraduate degree that includes nutrition for sports science careers, exercise physiology, and sports psychology.This  an educational experience helps students gain mastery in various academic fields, including the intricate nuances of sports psychology and the rigorous principles of physical conditioning. Each module and subject contributes to the comprehension of the interplay between the physical body and the ethos of athletics.

A Wide Range Of Specializations

The university has a wide range of specializations that students can experience once they begin the degree. These include:

- Sports and Performance Nutrition

Focuses on optimizing athletic performance and recovery through tailored nutritional strategies. This meets the rising demand in the fitness and wellness sectors.

- Sports Biomechanics

The masters in sports biomechanics offers insights into the mechanics of human movement. This equips graduates with the skills to enhance athletic performance and reduce injury risks through biomechanical analysis

- Sports Psychology

Addresses the mental aspects of sports and prepares graduates to boost athletes' mental resilience and performance. This responds to the growing need for psychological support in athletics.

- Exercise Physiology

The exercise physiology masters program concentrates on the body's response to physical exercise. This enables graduates to design and manage exercise programs that improve health outcomes for various populations.

Coming Together of Experience and Research

The coming together of practical knowledge and research is precisely what distinguishes D Y Patil University. With its ongoing commitment to education and inspiration, the university continues to serve as a guiding light for individuals who wish to combine their fervor for athletics with the quest for scientific distinction.

#masters in sports science #Exercise physiology masters programs #Masters in sports biomechanics #dy patil university navi mumbai #dypu navi mumbai #dypu university navi mumbai

[royal-wren]

It's so funny I meant to do this mostly for a nonserious variant but as always I can't do that with him ever

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course my fingerprints can't be read by electronic verification systems

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I lie so masterfully (quick and steadfast) you'd think I'm dead serious and honest

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I am a beacon of trust and pushing for peace and equality through beliefs and deeds

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I believe in the good in humanity and the grace that comes when the impulse is to assist and give aid in any way we can to help another in dire need.

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course at a moment's notice I come out like a cryptid with all the answers to any questions raised when learning is my biggest passion

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I devour stories and poetry both new and old as the history and present culture and humanity immortalized

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I have a deep mutual connection to the earth from the flora and fauna, with a call of a bird I know he is near

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I have mastered many skills like an ace of all trades ranging from sports and strength to the arts, maths, and sciences

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course my laughter is infectious and magnetic

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I walk both without a sound without a thought much to everyone's shock, and as loud as I wish with intention and purpose

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I have a voice that carries like that of 50 people from how loud I can be despite my usual soft-spoken and polite nature

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I am calm under pressure and never cower, my morals and objectivity couldn't be louder

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I am amicable in speech with honeyed/flowery words to keep the peace as much as my tongue is barbed, mingling with thorns for the rare few who've earned my ire

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course luck and fortune follow me everywhere I go

I’m a Hermes devotee, of course I uphold xenia like it was life or death for me no matter the distance one is away from me, no matter the friend or stranger, all that don't breathe wrongly held hate are welcomed with an open door

#hermes #hermes deity #hermes god #hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic polytheist #hellenic paganism #hellenic pagan #hellenic gods #hellenic deities #dorian's polytheism diary

[yestrday]

–BLUSH BLUSH ! anemo | hydro | geo

⤷ yan! hybrid! kamisato ayato, childe, xingqiu 

summary ! your aquatic hybrids are just as playful as the ebbing tides of the sea, and very much in love with you. the prime residents of your manmade lake just behind your house, you foolishly trust them enough not to question why the water’s surface grows red when they submerge into its depths.

content ! inaccurate demonstrations of their animal’s physical traits; any science majors this is the time to not read any further lest you want a headache; mentions of murder; thoughts of corruption; sadism; mentions of a leash; toxic behavior

notes ! uh wow did not notice theres like only 3 hydro men and yet it took me five business days to write this lmao.. anyways enjoy

AYATO scares you the first time you meet. on that particular day, the sun is bright and makes the man-made lake behind your house glisten ever so beautifully. it’s a sad attempt on your father’s part to appease your loneliness, but you can’t deny how happy you are when you find out about it. riding a rowboat into the center of the lake, you enjoy the wonderful weather as you relax under your parasol, alongside the tea and biscuits aether has prepared for you…

that is, if the tea hadn’t ran out when you weren’t watching. you swear there was tea in the thermostat just awhile ago. as you ponder in confusion about its sudden disappearance, you spy a pair of glowing eyes peeking at you fro just under the ripples of the water. when you try to lean in closer, you scream in shock when the creature’s head pops out from the water and nudges your head. “hello~” the creature, covered in glistening blue scales and sporting a coy grin, greets you even as you jump back. “my, that’s not how you greet a tenant of your lands, do you now?”

AYATO helps balance the rowboat when you almost tip it over from your shock. in fact, he actually helps push the rowboat towards the shore so that he can finally have a proper conversation without you almost falling into the water every now and then. now that you’re on stable ground, you can finally get a good view of him– inhumanly white skin tinged with the undertones of blue, and shiny blue denticles covering his limbs and temples. and when smiles, it’s rather… deadly, if the sharp rows of teeth have anything to say for themselves. he leans casually on a rock, and lets his fin (your anxiety increases when you begin to realize it’s shaped like a shark’s) rest under the sun.

you quickly find out the sawshark hybrid has been living in your lake just a bit after it was finished building. he was busy running away from something, and he wasn’t about to pass up a good lake. it unsettles you when he tells you that he was there from the very moment your father’s driver dropped you off at the mansion and could even recount the day you met aether. his shark’s grin grows larger when you shudder.

when you bring him back to the mansion, everyone is on their guard against AYATO. his eye smile seems cunning, and he touches you a tad too flirtatiously for everyone’s taste. the only one who seems happy about his appearance is thoma, who apparently has a shared history with the man, and they quickly adapt a master-servant relationship. thoma seems to be at his every beck and call as he is at yours, and sometimes you wonder if you’re sharing the title as ‘master of the house’ now.

AYATO seems to have a strange fondness for teasing you. as his long fingers trail your cheek and lift you by the chin, he delights in seeing you all flustered and stammering. he finds you adorable, like one would do a pet. he finds it fascinating how so many hybrids, both mythical and normal ones alike, have become so subservient to you. he understands them though, really– after all, how could one not fall for a human as sweet and genuine as you? you take care of them even though you could easily exploit them, and you have no ulterior motives like the rest of your folk.

AYATO likes to watch the events of the house unfold from the shadows. he’s not one for actually being part of the drama, but if there’s something going on, he’s sure to know about it. in fact, some of them may even be orchestrated by him. but whenever the involved hybrid angrily comes up to confront him, all they are left with is a coy smile and the very damning fact that they have no evidence on him.

if you’re thrusted into the elite life, you can come to AYATO for guidance, but do be wary when doing so, though. in his home country, he was one of the more important elites, so he’s well-aware of the trickeries and betrayal that comes with this sort of lifestyle. he finds it very amusing that your loaf of a father would push a greenhorn like you into such an intricate environment. it’s like he wants to see your downfall. but no worries~! mature and responsible AYATO is there to guide you!

beware though, AYATO is very strict when it comes to your training. after all, you are sort of his master, no? and he can’t have an incompetent buffoon for a master. he’ll make you repeat and repeat his lessons until you’re crying and your hands are sore from raising the teacup the right way. at his side, thoma wants to come forward and soothe you, but all it takes is a knowing glance from ayato to make him stop. tsk tsk… come on, master. you’re the child of a billionaire as well as the beloved human of sooo many hybrids. these trials are for your own good…

or so he says, with a sadistic grin on his face. his blue eyes shimmer as you rub your tears away and continue on with the training. ah… you really are quite the adorable pet. sharks don’t easily bow their heads to anyone, you know? much less filthy, corrupt humans. he doesn’t understand why your hybrids are so eager to lay their head at your feet, when you’re soooo much prettier with a leash around your neck ♡

RELATIONSHIPS: ayato is never seen without thoma by his side, and many of the hybrids actually seem to pity the dog hybrid as he’s the number one victim of ayato’s pranks. the inazuman hybrids are actually quite respectful of him, minus itto who has no sense of wariness and just ropes ayato in whatever game he has in mind. sometimes, he manages to involve aether in running an errand for him, much to the chagrin of the catboy.

AJAX shows up at your house as he’s tagging behind a disgruntled aether. you swear you could mistake him for a fox hybrid had it not been for the pointy horn (er… tusk?) on his head. he just… gives off that aura, like the coy smile on his face and the fluffy ginger hair. from what aether tells you, they met while aether was out for a walk and the man just immediately pounced on him and challenged him to a duel. judging by the injuries, it was a close fight, but aether ultimately came out the victor. you catch aether sending wary glances towards the narwhal, who ignores this in favor of smiling at you.

AJAX immediately greets you, a friendly and curious look on his face as he inspects the master of the hybrid who bested him. "hello there~" he's intimidatingly tall, and a closer look at him lets you see the faint shimmer of the mottled skin from his neck to around the edges of his face. "you wouldn't mind sheltering me for a liiittle bit, won't you? i can't seem to rest until i've bested my comrade over there! that, and–" his eyes glint with a crude expression as the shadowy eyes of your hybrids glare from the corners. "– you've got a pretty interesting cast here."

when AJAX joins your crew, it seems like there's a plus one headache for aether. he's challenging every other hybrid he comes across, but he seems like he's pestering aether the most. he always gets his ass beaten, and though he isn't actually upset about it, he uses this as an excuse for you to comfort him. he comes running to you with fake tears and rushes to hug you— much to aether's chagrin— whining about how your cat was bullying him (not minding the fact that you've been watching them from when AJAX challenged him out of nowhere). hugging you from behind, he fake sobs into your neck, all the while locking you into place with his thick thighs.

AJAX takes good care of you, like how an older brother would. when he's not purposely irritating the other hybrids by being overly clingy with you, he's gentle with his touches. he's also a good help with chores and he'll make you your favorite foods! it's quite obvious that he loves to dote on you, and that's one quality the others can respect. oftentimes, however, you become too adorable for your own good and he can't help but squeeze you in for a hug! that's when the other hybrids swoop in to pry him off you.

he finds the thought of pretty little you sequestered away in some mansion away from the cityscape somewhat… romantic? or more appropriately, appealing. his sick perversion convolutes your pitiful situation when he thinks of how easily he can just take you for himself. those with similar delusions may want to preserve your innocence, but AJAX fantasizes about how far he can corrupt you. did you really plan on staying quiet in this lonely mansion all your life? are you not angry at how easily your father can abandon you? you’re the heir to multimillion corporation, for goodness sake! you deserve more than this!

AJAX is more than willing to bloody his hands for you, should you ask of him. in fact, he already does so without you ever asking for it. he truly cares for you, and he can eliminate any threats to your life and position while laughing as he does so. if you’re a bit more innocent and sheltered, he won’t really let you know about his doings. however, if you’re the one who explicitly ordered the strike… well, AJAX will definitely seek your praise. clinging all over your, soaked in the blood of your enemy, he near grinds his body against you as he begs for your sweet, sweet praise… although it’s also sexy when you ignore his pleas.

RELATIONSHIPS: zhongli and ajax are a strange pair often seen together. while they talk over tea together, there is a stifling atmosphere as they passive-aggressively one-up each other. xiao is wary of him and is only second in beating him up. aether, of course, takes the number one spot, as ajax holds him in high regard than anyone in the house.

a rare trip to a lake– not your lake, but another one– greets you with disaster. the wind blows too hard, and your boat is swayed by the wind until you topple over and crash into the water. your hybrids are on the shore, none of them too adept at swimming, and strain as you might, you find that your underused limbs aren’t strong enough to pull you to shore. but suddenly you feel a pair of arms embrace you, before quickly swimming back up.

your savior drags you to shore, where your hybrids fuss over you while you cough up the water in your lungs. when you turn to meet your savior, you don’t know why you’re surprised when you meet another hybrid– an otter, he introduces himself, if it wasn’t evident enough by the long, fur-covered tail on his back. XINGQIU greets you with a gentlemanly smile, and you find yourself gaping at his pretty face before you suddenly thank him and call him your hero. XINGQIU is pleasantly surprised at this— so pleased, in fact, that he decides to come home with you.

seeing your collection of hybrids, XINGQIU is excited at the thought of meeting so many mythical as well as heroic entities. not only that, but he’s plenty delighted at your personal library. he’s usually engrossed in fiction about heroes and whatnot, and more often than not you’ll see the boy cuddled in the library’s sofa with his nose in a book. if he’s not in the library or playing another prank on chongyun, then he’s at the lake, floating contentedly on the water or reading a book on the riverbanks.

just on the foot of the hill your mansion sits on top, XINGQIU is well-known in the local village for his chivalrous deeds. it’s a quiet rural town, and he delights in its simplicity. when he’s down at the village for the walk, he’ll catch thieves and turn them or pay for the food of a hungry group of children. he’s among the well-liked hybrids of yours, and is a favorite by the local mothers. he’s not so much a favorite back at the mansion though. him being cheeky as well as prone to mischief has made the other members grow wary of him, even his best friend, chongyun. all this he laughs at, and continues to play pranks when other’s aren’t looking.

XINGQIU often shows an eagerness to do what’s good— for humanity, for his friends, and for you. while he’s a bit lazy when it comes to actually helping with the housework, he won’t stand for any sort of injustice that happens to you. whether you are falsely slandered or attacked by paid assassins, XINGQIU makes it his mission to save you. he’s so caught up in the thrill and pleasure of being your hero— the day you first called him that replays in his mind over and over again.

he’s so caught up in playing your hero that XINGQIU willingly blurs the line between chivalry and self-serving. is he really doing this because your opponents are unjustified in attacking a naive and defenseless person like you? or is he doing this because he enjoys you clinging to him and thanking him, singing his praises as you call him your hero over and over again.

XINGQIU loves you, that much is true. he loves you the point of never wanting to let you go, and he truly means to become the chivalrous hero he reads about in his books. but his more… playful (?) side wants to see you tear up a bit more, as you sit dazed on the floor with your attacker’s blood all over you and him at your front as he slices them up in the name of justice.

RELATIONSHIPS: he and chongyun are best buds, but it seems that xingqiu always has the upper hand in their relationship. zhongli sometimes acts as a mentor to the both of them as he trains them in the martial arts. he tags along with aether when he makes grocery runs down the village, as well as shows off his training to him every once in a while to show how much he’s improving.

tags: @probablynoposts​

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #genshin impact #yandere #genshin impact x reader #yandere ayato #yandere childe #yandere xingqiu #yester.writes #yester.au — hybrids 🪶 #yester.au — hybrids 🐾

[artificial-transmutations]

Two sides of the same coin - MVP

"Come on! That shot was easy! Even a baby could have done it, even Cedric here!" Buck shouted in full voice.

Cedric tried to crawl into the plastic seat he was sitting in even further. If there was a dictionary entry for "cringe", there would be a picture of his father right next to it. The older man had been drinking heavily since noon, and when he wasn't shouting about how much better he was than everyone else, he was busy humiliating Cedric. Sometimes, like right now, he even managed to do both at the same time.

His dad, Buck, was the very definition of a redneck. From drinking during the day to the pickup truck he drove, everything about that 40 year old man fit together to form one big cliché. He was loud, drunk and always ready to pick a fight. He never missed an opportunity to tell you that you were doing something wrong or that you should try harder. And of course, he was always better than everyone else, at least in theory. The very definition of the Dunning-Kruger effect.

Cedric, on the other hand, was nothing short of a nerd. He had been raised by his mother after his parents divorced when he was three years old and was a smart guy. With his 20 years, he was already half way through university and working towards a Master's degree in computer science. But all that meant little to Buck. He couldn't stand anyone who wasn't as dumb as he was, and he especially hated nerds. Of course, another thing that made their relationship difficult was that Cedric was gay - a fact that Buck knew and constantly made fun of every chance he got.

Every now and then, Cedric tried to better his relationship with his dad, like today, where they went to a hockey game together. Cedric hated every second of it. The mind-numbing sport, the shouting, the drinking, the cliché male atmosphere... and of course his father. Well, it was halftime already, not much longer to endure.

"Hey, are you listening, boy?" Buck's pronunciation was slurred slightly, as he leaned closer.

"I said that I need to take a piss!" Buck said more loudly than necessary. "Come!"

Cedric didn't know why he had to come along, but he groaned and followed his father.

Since it was halftime, there already was a long line of men in front of the public restroom.

"See, that's what I'm talking about, they don't teach you the useful shit in your fancy school." Buck grumbled and pointed at the line. "Now look at them. They're all waiting their turn like good little boys. And they're gonna miss half of the game. Come on, this way."

Buck led Cedric through maintenance corridors until they arrived at a door, which he opened with a grand gesture.

"But this locker room here is never ever used. The players are all out in the field now and the door is always unlocked. If I were the manager here, I'd fire the janitor."

Buck shrugged his shoulder and walked to one of the steel urinals on the wall.

"You stand watch while your old man does his business!"

All of this made Cedric really uncomfortable. This was basically breaking into an area they were not supposed to be in, and he had to stand here and watch over his horrible dad.

Something on the ground caught his attention and he bent down to pick it up. A curious coin was lying on the floor. He pocketed it to show it a friend who was into collecting later. Perhaps at least something positive would come out of this.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by his father shouting loudly: "What the fuck!"

As he looked over, he saw that Buck was looking down at his crotch. At first, Cedric thought it was some kind of bad joke, but the surprise seemed genuine. Curiosity got the better of him and Cedric looked over. At first, he didn't understand what was wrong until he saw his dad's cock. It was really big, really dark and really stiff. Cedric didn't know why Buck was so aroused all of a sudden, but then he noticed something was clearly wrong. As he was watching, the stiff member got even darker and, more importantly, even longer. It was growing out in a frightening speed and looked less and less like flesh by the second.

"What's going on? Hold on, I'm gonna call the ambulance." Cedric took out his phone and cursed under his breath. No reception. Then he froze. The hand that was holding his phone was wrong. It was not his hand, but it was much bigger. His whole body was tingling weirdly, as his frame shot up in height and width. All of a sudden, his clothes felt tight and uncomfortable, and Cedric struggled to get out of them.

"What the hell?" He muttered, as he watched himself grow larger quickly. He was still wearing his jeans, but they were too small for him now. He quickly pulled them off and threw them away before he looked over to his dad again.

The older man had his own troubles. His cock had grown to at least 75 cm length by now and was obviously made out of blackened wood. The tip was larger and bent. Overall, it looked like a hockey stick that was firmly attached to the older man’s groin and just finished growing into the full size.

Just then, a clacking noise was heard as something fell down to the ground below Buck. He looked down to see a hockey puck between his legs and his face went white as he grabbed between his legs with his left hand.

"That's my balls! That's my freaking balls!"

Meanwhile, Cedric's body was becoming more and more muscular. His bi- and triceps grew huge, and his legs got stronger with firm muscles as well.

A slight coating of hair grew in on his pecs that became more manly and impressive by the moment. Impressive was also a good word to describe his crotch! A large cock and balls surrounded by some curly manly hair hung proudly between his massive legs.

Meanwhile, Bucks cock had finished transforming into a hockey stick. His clothing dissolved and revealed a most unusual sight: The skin on his upper body was getting redder, unnaturally so. However, below the waistline, his legs turned a bright blue. His whole body puffed out and looked more and more like synthetic fabric, probably polyester. His head on the other hand, became red and shiny metallic with his face forming into a protective metal grate.

Buck's crotch, which was already cock- and ballless turned into a protective cup, complete with jockstrap.

Cedric could only watch in shock as his former father collapsed to the ground, now nothing more than a heap of protective gear for a star hockey player. A hockey player like... Cedric? Cedric held his head, which squared out into a manly, rugged face. Yes, that seemed right. He needed to hurry, halftime was nearly over. He needed to get back to the ice, to bring his team to victory!

Cedric briefly wondered why he had stripped completely just to use the urinal, but he finished pissing quickly and got dressed again.

The bulky hockey uniform that was once Cedric’s father felt proud of his son for the first time as he tightly wrapped the large masculine body. His son was a star ice hockey player, and his job was to protect his body and be his tool - a task he felt most useful and content in.

If you enjoyed this story, perhaps the other ones of the series are also something you'd like.

#inanimate transformation #inanimate tf #two sides of the same coin #male transformation #muscle tf

[morganbritton132]

Idk why this popped into my brain but it occurred to me that Eddie was probably on those celebrity editions of game shows. Celebrity Jeopardy, Celebrity Who Wants to be a Millionaire, etc…

And it just made me laugh so hard. The idea of Eddie Munson with Regis. Of calling Steve as a phone a friend for a basketball question and Steve being like Eddie I don’t know everything about basketball. But the answer is Larry Bird.

Just TikTok finding clips of Eddie yelling “suck it, Dan Cortese!” after obliterating them all at final jeopardy.

This fills me with so much joy! I love it so much.

Eddie does not go on Celebrity Who Wants to be a Millionaire by choice. He pissed off the band’s manager just enough that they signed him up for it without his knowledge, and he’s not doing it. He got the letter in the mail and it’s not happening.

Eddie ‘Six Years of High School’ Munson is not going on national television and making himself look like an idiot when he doesn’t even get to be in on the joke. No way.

“Dick move, man,” Gareth shrugs after Eddie put his foot down. “Even if you fuck the first question, they’re still gonna donate to your charity of choice. And like, maybe this is just the amount of money needed to cure cancer. Or epilepsy.”

“…You fucking suck, Gareth.”

“Yeah, I do!”

Eddie begrudgingly shows up and goes through the whole rigmarole to get mic’ed up, just ready to make a fool out of himself and call it a day. It turns out that he knows a lot more than he thought he did because he breezes through the first round of questions.

He knows enough about history, music, and the arts just from planning his D&D campaigns and reading about things he likes. He’s surprised by how much surface knowledge he’s gained from listening to the kids logic their way through their science and math homework, but sports are a bust.

He gets lucky on a few questions, but ends up using his Phone a Friend to call his partner, Steve. Steve and Eddie spend the first fifteen seconds arguing about how Eddie shouldn’t have wasted his phone a friend on Steve because he doesn’t know anything. And then once he hears the question, he’s like, “Larry Bird” and hangs up.

Eddie doesn’t win a millionaire dollars for his charity, but he wins quite a bit.

Afterwards when he’s still so hyped up about not being dumb, Steve’s just like ???? “Ed, you were never dumb. You just had trouble taking tests and none of your teachers accommodated your very obvious ADHD. You’ve always been brilliant.”

“Now everybody knows it.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Yeah, they do.”

Eddie signs up for Celebrity Jeopardy himself.

One of the first things that Steve and Wayne bonded over was a love for Jeopardy. Wayne has watched Jeopardy before he left for work for as long as Eddie has known him, and Steve was more than happy to sit with him when it was on. They both continued to watched even after Steve and Eddie moved to Chicago and sometimes they’d call each other if Final Jeopardy was “crazy.”

The band wasn’t touring as much as they used too and they’re all pretty much working on their own projects at this point. Steve’s finishing up his master’s degree while teaching full time and doesn’t really have a lot of time for him. Eddie is in between projects and creatively tapped out, and worst of all, he’s bored.

So when his manager passively mentions Celebrity Jeopardy, Eddie tells him to sign him up for it. When they accept his application, the only people he tells about it are Dustin and Nancy.

He only tells them because he wants their help studying for it because he wants to win this time. So, they study and it sucks. If Eddie ever sees another world famous Nancy Wheeler flashcard again, he’ll tear off his arm. He hates every second of their study sessions.

Eddie makes it through the quarterfinals and then he makes it to the semi-finals (knocking out Dan Cortese). He doesn’t win the tournament because he bets big on a Daily Double and gets it wrong, but he’s fairly close to the lead after Final Jeopardy.

It’s not bad for a guy that failed his senior year three times.

The fun part comes when it airs. He painstakingly sets up their camcorder so Steve won’t notice it before the show starts. The video he gets has a good five minutes of Steve fussing with a blanket up until they say ‘Eddie Munson.’

Steve looks up and then looks at Eddie, and then back at the tv, “Wha- what? Is that – that’s you! You’re on Jeopardy! Eddie, you’re on – oh my god, we’ve got to call Wayne.”

Before Steve can even do that, their phone is ringing and Steve answers it like, “HE DIDN’T TELL ME EITHER!” while Eddie is laughing his ass off.

When Eddie posts a TikTok about it like, ‘LOL remember when I was on Jeopardy?’ it includes this moment. It also includes footage from the semi-finales where Steve is just pacing the living room and repeatedly telling Eddie to just tell him if he won or not. Steve cheers like he’s at a football game when Eddie wins.

It’s just as tense when the video cuts to Steve watching the finale. Steve knows the answer to the daily double that Eddie gets wrong and is like, ‘This is why they should do Jeopardy Couples, we’d win so hard.’ Steve’s not even disappointed that Eddie lost, keeping the same enthusiasm through the show and then is like, “I’m married to a Jeopardy contestant. I’m so telling Janet about this at the staff meeting tomorrow.” 

#Eddie is this universe’s version of ‘What ARE frogs *x-files music* #He’d constantly baffle Alex Trebek with stories that are just weird enough not to shatter his NDA into pieces on national television #also all his final jeopardy answers are What Is (Right Answer) Love U baby! #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

when was the last time you saw a male athlete, a bona fide jock (a REAL jock. someone who played sports in HS college or who currently plays professionally or semi professionally), talk about they were just a dumb beefcake who doesn’t understand math. like when was the last time. “i’m too jacked to understand the economy” and then repeatedly said over and over how stupid and intellectually incapable they were in so many words. never. instead, you have jalen hurts, QB for the philadelphia eagles who helped lead his team to the superbowl, finishing his masters. you have jaylen brown, point guard for the boston celtics, who spends much of him talking to the press speaking on his role in the players association and as an advocate for the end of structural inequality education. and thats just a couple of ja(y)lens. you could take your pick for other high profile (black) athletes who respond to negative stereotypes not by making them their entire personalities but by actually subverting them. that is subversion.

and yes, it’s fine to be a woman who is just not good at math. that’s me. i’m not good at math or science. i don’t have a driver’s license and i can’t drive. a lot of the time i don’t feel like cooking whole meals for myself. so i just focus on the things i am good at. i focus on what i do know. and celebrate what i can do and when it do accomplish things. and the rest of the time i just act like a normal fucking person about my normal fucking flaws and limitations rather than attributing it to my sex….or tell a dumb joke and let it enjoy a singular lifetime without attributing it to my sex……

#get a grip…

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Secret's Out

Bruce Wayne x plus size gn!reader

Bruce gets a crush on Dick’s tutor but is hesitant on letting them into his life because of you know, the whole running around as a bat thing.

Warnings: FLUFF, references to struggling in school, the usual batman injuries and angst

WC: 1.4k

Minors DNI

The life of the Batman was often lonely. Late nights and early mornings meant Bruce didn’t have a lot of time for anything other than his son and making rare appearances in public so a relationship was out of the question. But dear god did he crave that intimacy.

He wanted to wake up beside someone, have someone share the load of being a parent to a very energetic child with him. And sex, but that goes without saying. But there was too much at risk. What if they got hurt because of his nightly activities? If he shared his secret would they leave him and expose it to the public? Would they break Dick’s heart?

So he resolved to be lonely for the rest of his life. It was too bad that his heart had a mind of its own though.

Dick had been struggling in school, he found it difficult to connect to the other kids in Gotham Academy and thus his grades were slipping. After a particularly heartbreaking melt down from the small boy after another child rejected his friendship, Bruce and Alfred had a very difficult conversation. 

They decided that homeschooling one on one with a tutor for at least a semester would help Dick become more secure in his academics and interact with someone outside of his family. So, each night, while Batman and Robin cleaned up the streets of Gotham, Alfred trolled through the internet and newspapers, trying to find someone suitable for his grandson.

Eventually, he did. You had more than enough qualifications, a masters in education with specialisation in science and english, a long list of glowing recommendations, and a small collection of special skills that made him smile. Dick had been wary when they approached him about you, he was scared that this new teacher would treat him the same as the others, pushing him down and making him feel bad about himself.

But after a long trip to the Gotham pier complete with him and his father consuming their weight in ice-cream, he came around. And thank god he did.

You were a life-saver. You not only became his teacher but you also became his best friend, his confidant, his greatest supporter and his partner in crime. The usually silent and morose halls of the manor were now filled with the childish giggles of his son, a sound that had been gone since Bruce himself was that young.

You also became a shoulder for Bruce to lean on. You joked around with him, getting him to actually smile and not the usual cocky grin he used in public. A real smile that made his cheeks hurt and his chest warm with affection. You were brilliant at helping around the house and organising galas, which wasn’t part of your job description yet you still helped.

He hated when you left for the day, getting in your crappy car that you refused to let him replace with a newer model, to travel back into the city where you lived. He wished he could have you live with them but it was too risky. He couldn’t have you learning about the Bat.

Tonight had been tough to say the least. The penguin had gotten a damn good shot in and now Bruce was sporting at least two broken ribs and a wicked bruise around his abdomen. Dick was also very sick, a bad stomach bug that Bruce blamed himself for because it was raining the night before and they still had gone out. And to top it all off, Alfred was on vacation.

Too consumed with his mission, he had called you. He asked if you would spend the night with Dick since he had an emergency he had to attend to and wasn’t sure when he would be home. You didn’t hesitate in answering with a resounding yes. You walked into the house barely ten minutes later (you definitely broke some speed limits driving over) with a bag full of medicine and tolerable food for the young boy.

“I should be back by morning. Are you sure you’ll be ok by yourself?” His veins were alight with nerves, this was now so far past the line of professionalism he had promised you when you were first hired. You just smiled kindly at him as you laid out your supplies in the guest bedroom closest to Dick.

“I’ll be fine and so will Dick. I’ll call you if something happens but I honestly doubt that it will.” Bruce sighed, a weight lifting from his chest. “Go on, we’ll be ok.” He nodded and turned to leave the room but not before hearing you call out, “Stay safe.”

He wished he had just called in Clark for tonight. He was distracted, worried about his boy, worried about what your words meant. He decided to call it an early night after ensuring that Penguin was safely in the hands of the GPD, he crawled back to the cave. Maybe if Dick was still awake, they could all watch a movie together to lift his spirits. 

As the batmobile rolled into its designated space in the cave, Bruce noticed that the many computer screens had been turned on and were flicking through various security camera footage. Had Alfred come home early and taken his place as overseer of Gotham? No, he would have been with you and Dick if he had returned.

And Dick was too sick to make it down the stairs from his room let alone get into the secret elevator that he was still too short to reach the button for on his own. That left only one plausible option.

The blue light from the screens illuminated your face beautifully, bathing you in a gentle glow that made his heart beat faster in his chest. “Welcome home, Bruce.” You softly called out, your voice both tired and slightly teasing. 

“How’d you figure it out?” Your hand came to rest on your considerable chest as you gasped in offended shock. The action made the butterflies in his stomach swirl in a storm of pure tenderness. His mind was yelling at him that there was no way to know if you could be trusted but his heart yearned for you, wanting to spill all of his secrets at your feet.

“Mr Wayne! I am not as dumb as I look!” He chuckled, shuffling closer. The blanket that had been draped around your shoulders slipped down, pooling around your wide hips. You smirked at the taller man as he came closer, coming to a stop right in front of you, the tips of your bare feet touching his armoured ones. “Besides, who else has the money and technology to be Batman but you?! Also, you always disappear mid-parties, leaving me to the wolves.” You shrugged.

“I figured it out about two days after you hired me, Dick also talks in his sleep.” Bruce sighed, releasing a breathy laugh. He pulled his cowl off, not missing the way your breath caught in your throat at the sight revealed before you. His dark hair stuck up in a hundred different directions, his bright blue eyes shining in the dim light of the computers.

“And you haven’t told anyone?” You shook your head.

“Who would I tell, besides this is the best paying job I’ve had in years, I’m not giving this up just because my boss likes to run around like a depressed Superman.” His smile fell into a very immature pout.

“I’m not a depressed Superman, he’s a bootleg Batman.” You threw your head back in laughter. Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle along with you, glad to have this huge secret out in the open. He could share the burden on his shoulders with someone he was coming to truly care about.

Your laughter soon died out into the occasional giggle that made his heart skip a beat. “Well then, let’s get you patched up and tucked into bed with your boy.” You slipped from his chair, grabbing the pre prepared first aid kit on the desk as you did so. “I do have one condition about this whole thing.”

Like the lovesick puppy he was, Bruce followed you to the medical bed in the corner, eager to agree with anything you would ask if it meant you stayed. “Anything.” He replied without hesitation.

“Get me Aqua-man’s autograph, I think he’s really hot.” 

“You what?!” But you just laughed and walked away, leaving him in a pool of self-pity and unwavering adoration. Maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t be alone anymore. After he killed Aqua-man of course.

Request: She cracked the identity of Batman. “Come on, who else has the money and technology to be Batman but you?! Also, you always disappears mid-parties too many times.”

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[satoruzlove]

I AM THINKING SOOO HARD ABOUT MODERN DAY COLLEGE! MIKASA, EREN AND ARMIN!!!! HAVING A FRIEND GROUP W THEM!!!!!

like , okay , eren being that one guy that everyone knows but no one ever really talks to. people smile at him and greet him in the halls but he’s only ever with you, mika and armin between lectures. he’s a sports science major, he’s always at the campus gym or in the library on his laptop doing research. like he’s actually so good at what he’s into. he always has his hair half up, half down, he has a dog tag with his mum’s name on it and he has this wooden bead bracelet he never seems to take off. when he’s nervous [ usually when exam results are being passed out] he’s always fiddling with it. sometimes if he’s REALLY dazed he’ll have his dog tag between his lips and his pupils are all unfocused. he wears a lot of black, mainly heavily distressed jeans, sweats and jumpers. !!! IS A VANS GUY!!!! he draws on the sole of them and has yours, mikasa’s and armin’s names on them. </33333

he’s also the asshole of your group😭 like armin will just be putting on his glasses and eren just takes them and walks, he dead legs mikasa all the time and his favorite hobby is stealing your stationary for no good reason. 😭😭 he also acts like he’s never seen the things he took in his life. he uses armin’s head as an arm rest all the time, he LOVESSSS to ruffle yours and mikasa’s hair all the time, he can actually be pretty touchy. has a habit of fiddling with you guys. a lot of people on campus are like?? what the fuck when hes got an arm around mikasa’s shoulders or if hes got an arm around yours / armin’s cus hes just unconsciously very affectionate </3 bring it up and he’ll throw you.

armin who is a nursing student that i could literally ingest fully. he’s shorter compared to eren, he’s more well known because of how sweet he is and girls LOVEEE HIM. everywhere y’all go girls greet him and compliment his outfit, he’s always so bashful about it and sometimes eren will absolutely RUIN IT LIKE😭😭 “morning armin!!! i love ur hair today!!” “ good morning!! thank u sm urs is pret-“ “ hEYY ARMIN REMEMBER WHEN YOU PISSED THE BED💓💓💓💓” LMAOAOOAOAKAKAKAKAN 😭😭😭 mikasa has slapped his arms so many times bcus armin always feels so embarrassed, he walks away so fast and drags you with him while mikasa scolds him. poor baby. ARMIN’S STYLE!!!!!>>> he wears a lot of graphic tee’s in a more neutral colour, and then a dress shirt over, lots of cargo pants and air forces, specifically the ones with pastel details on them!!! he likes taking your jewellery so you two match a lot , it makes him so happy!!

he’s a grad student , his grades are so good. his gpa is like 3.8 mainly cus he has very bad exam anxiety, but he studies very often and his notes are so cool!! he’s an absolute master at diagrams , he has an eye for copy and pasting it just by looking at them and sketching. sometimes he gets really into it, and his glasses are almost falling off his face so you push them up for him. he always thanks you really quietly and squeezes the hand you used</333 his ears are secretly all pink and he’s smiling at his textbook</33333333 him and mikasa are an absolute power duo!!! they tend to bully eren and depending on how much of a rat he’s being , you either defend or bully him. you and eren are probably the more chaotic ones, tbh . ARMIN LOOOVES going on coffee dates with you guys!!! like you all go out when it’s chilly, sometimes you guy all hold hands and walk down the street 😭😭😭 and then you go in, chat, make jokes and take cute pictures just to destress after the long week at uni. it’s so pure and the pictures are stuff like all your drinks next to eachother, mikasa and eren hugging and pretending to make out😭😭, armin having a milk moustache and you almost dropping your drink all over yourself.

MIKASA IS A BUSINESS MAJOUR AND OH MY GOD SHE’S LIKE A ROBOT? if she’s half asleep and you asked her what the factors of production are she knows all of them are their remunerations too😭 she’s another one who’s super passionate and hard working , she loves the validation of knowing she did her best and she adores when you guys tell her that she’s done well): her teachers adore her, they all call her by her first name and her favorite one calls her mika after she heard eren calling her that!!</3333 she has a rly sophisticated dressing style, a lot of pleaded pants and turtle necks, leather jackets and very sleek jewellery. she has naturally fluffy brows and eyelashes so she doesn’t wear much makeup unless she’s feeling spicy 🤭 she also always has her nails as a deep wine red colour, it makes her look like a business woman. i’m drooling.

her books are all neat, everything about her is so pretty and elegant. she’s another kinda affectionate person but she’s sooo low-key about it lmao. like if y’all walk together she’ll walk on the open side of the sidewalk, she likes linking pinkies and loves holding onto armin/eren’s arm when she walks, or she basically attaches herself to your side. she’s always coddling you and armin,telling you to watch where you walk, reminding you to take vitamins, small things that show her affection for you</33 with eren she’s a bit less obvious about it and she’s AGGRESSIVE like randomly in your shared apartment and you’ll hear “ fuck you im not doing that” “it’s good for you asshole” “go away” and you’re like??? armin can u hear that but he’s already so done LMAO but he loves her anyway. she always tells armin how sweet he is and eren gets so pissy

just. them<3

#and so my fandoms expand #again. #attack on titan #aot #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x gn reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager headcanons #eren jeager scenarios #armin arlert hcs #eren jeager hcs #armin arlert headcanons #armin arlert x reader #armin x reader #eren x reader #armin arlert x gn reader #mikasa ackerman #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman x gn reader #mikasa ackerman hcs #mikasa ackerman headcanons #mikasa ackerman scenarios #these tags are so messy i am so sorry y’all

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

yandere best friend pt3

tw; infantalization, yelling, violence, self harm, feels bad because comparison is the thief of joy, life being unfair

ageless blogs n minors DNI blease tq <3

yea im on a roll haha i just finished part 2 and now i moved onto part 3, as u can see i was projecting here with the leg situation

anyways its pretty short and as usual, no proofreading

enjoay

You don't know how he's doing right now. Time passes so fast that its been four years since that haunting call from your friend. You finished your masters degree and now you're deeper in debt than ever. You're taking on three jobs unrelated to your qualifications and running on no sleep, just like how your friend did when he was working towards his biggest goal.

Well, maybe you lied. You knew how he's doing, because his stupid restaurant name is ubiquitous.

It's strange, unfair and confusing how he managed to turn his restaurant into a multimillion corporation this fast. It's now a famous brand with multiple branches across the globe, it has expanded into selling frozen products in supermarkets everywhere. It's still growing too, more and more people are investing in his empire, making him richer and richer and making you green with fucking envy.

People who invest in stocks bring up his brand pretty often, saying that it's worth to invest a couple thousand dollars in it because its in some sort of top 500 index. You weren't really interested in that because you don't even have a couple thousand dollars to spare in the first place.

Your friend seem to mostly stay out of the limelight, making him more of a faceless founder. It's rare to find interviews with him, even if you did, he would always give vague, generic answers to the questions. He would focus more on promoting his products than anything else, he's neither humble or arrogant... but he's just like a robot made only to advertise whatever it's selling and make as much sales as it can.

The masses would very much prefer to pay attention to the celebrity ambassadors the marketing department hired.

Personal information about your friend was scarce, so far you knew that he went ahead and got himself a diploma in culinary arts and another diploma in Food Science and Technology in the last four years. No doubt, to improve the credibility of his company and in hopes of having more customers flock in.

You felt... bad. Took the conventional, the more socially accepted route of studying to one of the highest degrees, but your friend who started off with only a high school diploma and an iron will was so much more successful than you in life.

Perhaps it's simply the human condition to compare ourselves to wildly different lives. Every time you check the news about your friend, it's always something about his company achieving another award for delicious tasting food, well known events involving major public figures or the highly anticipated release of a new product.

You don't come across pictures with your friend in it, but when you do, it's always a picture of him talking to an important figure in a lavish setting, or having the fanciest dinner you have ever seen with people in formal clothes. He looked amazing in every one of it, he was so put together that it looks unreal. Well, seeing that he can afford the best treatments the world has to offer, it doesn't come off as a huge surprise.

And that is soul crushing, you wish to be him. And you forgot the hardships he went through. And you became bitter. And resentful of him. And resentful towards yourself. And-

Oh, your break is up. Time to continue your self loathing inner monologue while dealing with snooty customers. All the while, forgetting that your friend also has to deal with mood and energy vampires everyday.

As if things couldn't get anymore worse, you fucked up your legs. Well, not you. But some spoiled brat with a speedy sports car slammed onto you while you were lawfully using the zebra crossing. Their daddy was loaded and had the right connections, so the person who took your legs out walked away scot-free. You were left to clean up the mess yourself.

Luckily, it's not the worst thing your legs can take. You'll still be able to walk, but it will take ages to heal and might as well amputate them to pay for the damn bill. Throw in a kidney or two and you might just pay half of it off. So, you'll be wheelchair ridden until further notice.

You moved back into your parents' home, the same country where you and your friend first met. As much as you hate depending on others, you need your parents help. You are financially ruined and you can't exactly find a job that's kind to people with your disability. Or to people with any disability, in fact.

Word spreads so fucking fast. Your friend made a beeline to your parents house as soon as one of his private eyes reported that you're back home.

He was in a meeting with the board of directors managing one of his numerous subsidiary companies. It baffled everyone in the room when your friend showed interest in something other than profits and company growth. It was thought that he has no soul, no loved ones and no sentience. He was just a massive piece of code programmed to make as much money as possible at all cost.

Seeing that he experienced such a strong emotion upon hearing your arrival, that he had to adjourn a meeting, was so jarring.

It made him seem... human.

You were fast asleep. Exhausted from what the world has pelted at you and weak from all the pain. Your parents invited your friend in as he was extremely excited and happy that you're back, oblivious to the fact that you're in this state. He didn't bother listening to the full report his private eye was about to give him.

As soon as he entered your room, his smile fell upon seeing your crippled state. You were unconscious, if you weren't, you would probably die from mortification... your successful childhood best friend, seeing very unsuccessful you. An old laptop sits uncomfortably on your belly, yet another job rejection letter was shown on the screen.

Your friend was speechless. He could already hear the growing storm of regret, self hatred, anguish, anger, sadness brewing inside him, it was muffled, but its getting increasingly clearer and louder.

His trembling hands gently stroked your casts as tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

What happened? He whispered, it was loud enough for your parents to hear. Hence, they began explaining.

The name of the person who hit you with their car was all he needed to know. He is going to take care of it. Everything else bounced off his head as his eyes slowly travelled to your hands, he took one of them into his larger ones. He massaged them with utmost love and longing.

It's rough. It's calloused. It's scarred. It's everything that he never ever want your hands to be.

You groggily woke up, using your free hand to rub your eyes. You paused when you saw your friend by your bedside, silently staring at your hand in his. Tears rolling down his cheek and dripping onto the collar of his very expensive jacket.

He failed. He may have tried his best to stop it from happening, but he ultimately failed. You went through more or less, what he went through.

He shouldn't have left you alone, he shouldn't have trusted that you won't suffer like he did. He should have intervened, he should have bought that plane ticket instead, He shouldn't have respected your boundaries that day, he should have come to you regardless.

You have proven that you are incapable to take care of yourself. No more mistakes, no more neglect, you need him now more than ever. He is going to make things right and you will have no say in anything anymore. You will depend on him and he will make sure of it.

As soon as his eyes met yours, he lost it. He broke down sobbing in his hands. The weight of his failure is crushing him to pieces, how could he be so fucking stupid? Obviously, you needed him despite receiving that scathing text message four years ago. You were so young, so naïve, so inexperienced and oblivious to the cruel, cruel world around you. Of course, you thought you would do okay. You haven't seen the world at its' worst like he did! He should have known better... and he knew better! He just...

He just wanted you to be happy. And, he thought you would be happier if he left you alone for a while. In the meantime, he would continue building that perfect life for you to come home to, filled with nothing but comfort and luxuries. But look at you now, you were robbed of your innocence, and, your friend blamed himself for it.

You're suffering and he was the cause of it. only if he didn't neglect you in the first place...

No...

Only if you didn't fucking reject him over and over again. Things would have turned out differently. You also had a part in this!

You covered your face out of embarrassment, you did not want him to see you at this stage of life. You didn't want anyone seeing you like this.

Please leave me alone. You said.

You always knew your friend to be the softest, sweetest person around you. He never got physically violent to anyone (at least, to your knowledge).

Imagine the shock when he yanked your hand away from your face and delivered a devastating slap to your face. You were stunned as the ringing of your ears and the pain of the blow overwhelm your senses. Within moments, a red print was formed on your cheek.

Your parents rushed in to put a barrier between you and him, but he ignored them and began yelling and pointing at you hysterically.

I trusted you! I trusted you! How dare you do this to yourself!? I worked so fucking hard-- I sacrificed everything for you, and you can't even keep yourself healthy! Oh, he was angry. He was shouting and screaming, most of the time it just made you scared and confused. You can't understand what he was getting at because he was jumbling over his words.

Your hands, they aren't supposed to look like mine and look what you have done to them! His voice went hoarse from all the exertion.

You weren't supposed to work for anything in life, I was supposed to provide for you! Why can't you just fucking depend on me!? Why can't you just accept me!?

You can only watch on as he threw a massive tantrum, your father tried his best to pull him away from the room, but to no avail.

You are going to depend on me, I am going to provide for you and that's final! I don't care what you think, you can't be trusted to do anything alone! With that final piece, he wrenched himself off your father's grip and stormed out of your childhood bedroom, slamming the door behind him so hard, that some wall décor fell to the ground with a loud crash.

He is going to replace them later. Now, he needs to make a few phone calls.

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #cw yandere #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere boy #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere tw #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #tw infantilization #tw sh #yandere content #yandere best friend