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mostly-imagines · 2 months

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Dear God Get Out

jason todd x reader

aka not a moment of privacy

warnings: mild sexual activities, more people than jason would ever want in your apartment during those times

The second Jason’s through the door his arms are out, seeking to pull you into him. You let him engulf you in his arms without thought, this being the first time you’ve seen him all day.

“Missed you.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

You hum and rake your fingers through his hair. “I know, my love. Missed you too.”

He pulls back to look at you and holds your neck gingerly in his hands. “You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod and kiss his collarbone softly, wrapping your hands around his forearms. He gives your forehead a kiss and walks you backwards to the couch, leaning down over you until you have to sit.

He follows you down and kisses your lips and guides you backwards to lay. He drapes himself over you, inserting himself between your legs. He refocuses his attention to your neck, and sucks at a very particular spot below your jaw that you know he targeted on purpose.

“Okay, that’s not fair.” You breathe out, halfway to a sigh.

“No? How ‘bout this?”

He nips at you, startling you to a near moan. Your reaction only encourages him, as he holds your jaw and tilts your head to the side for more access.

He slips his hand under your shirt, grazing the skin underneath. He leaves open kisses all across your collarbone, trailing them down your stomach once he has your top off and strewn half away across the room.

You stop him, pulling him back up to you for a kiss. He furrows his brows at first, only understanding when you start to pry at his shirt too. He removes it for you, tossing it with startling accuracy right by yours.

He resumes kissing down your body, hands trailing down your sides along with him. He peppers kisses on your thighs and hooks his fingers into the seam of your underwear, readying to remove them.

It’s almost astonishing how silently he'd managed to open the window only to stumble and flail his way to the floor.

The sudden clatter scares the hell out of both you and Jason, who jumps to a stand immediately.

“Tim!”

“Evening. D’you guys still have any—oh.” Tim finally regains his coordination and stands up to see you sprawled out on the couch, bra and underwear your only cover.

His eyes go to the floor real quick and Jason lets out an exasperated sigh, looking around for something nearby to cover you up with.

“—you know, wait up means wait up!”

Oh good, Dick’s here too.

You sit up quickly and try to cover yourself with your arms, though there’s not much of a difference you can really make.

Dick ducks in from the fire escape and lands significantly more gracefully than his counterpart had.

It takes him no time at all to assess the room and see you, knees to chest on the couch, trying very hard to appear as though you’re not half naked. Takes him even less time to see Jason, standing in front of you, fuming.

“Oh. Oops…”

Jason chucks the tv remote at Dick and uses the distraction to pull you up from the couch, pushing you behind him. His massive frame is more than enough to cover what his brothers have no business seeing.

“Get the fuck—”

And just for good measure, Damian jumps down next and crouches in the window.

“Jesus Christ,” your boyfriend mutters, hands covering his face in exasperation.

Damian takes one glance at the room and grimaces—Tim’s eyes are glued to the floor, Dick’s acting as though there’s something very interesting on the ceiling, and Jason’s shirtless. He can’t quite see you behind Jason, though he doesn’t need to in order to guess what he’d just walked in on.

“Ugh, seriously Todd? That’s disgusting.”

You let your forehead hit Jason’s back, thoroughly embarrassed. He reaches back to caress your waist, and you know somewhere in that action there’s a reassurance that he’s going to get them out as soon as humanly possible.

“Yeah, seriously. This is our apartment, demon brat. Get out.”

“Maybe we should come back later…” Dick suggests, more awkward than in his usual character.

Jason glares up at the heavens. “Or never.”

“At least keep it in the bedroom, you animals.” Damian chastises.

Jason suddenly wishes he hadn’t thrown the remote so soon. “Our apartment.”

He looks back at you without moving the shield of his body, eyes apologetic. You meet gaze and turn your head to rest your cheek on him instead, your own hidden meaning of reassurance. It’s fine.

You can’t see them but you hear a shuffle and hope to god it’s not another vigilante.

You place a hand on Jason’s lower back and peer around his shoulder, seeing Tim turned back around towards the window and trying desperately to get Damian to move out of the way—Damian, seemingly having no regard for Tim’s urgency.

You’re not quite sure if it’s over discomfort or embarrassment in seeing you so undressed, or if it’s because his self-preservation kicked in when he saw the look on Jason’s face. Maybe both. Probably both.

Both.

“Will you stop?” Damian slaps his hand away. “We came here for a reason.” He looks past Tim at you, “Do you have—”

“No.” Jason cuts in, growing visibly more agitated.

Damian’s face contorts as he looks back up to Jason, “What is your—”

Now Dick cuts in, “Okay, that’s fine, we’ll just ask the old man.”

“Great.”

Dick pauses. “On the couch though, Jaybird?”

Jason takes a deep breath.

“Alright, ten seconds, then I get the gun taped under the table.”

That’s warning enough for Damian—he’s called that bluff once before and learned the hard way.

Tim doesn’t even take a second glance before hauling it out of your apartment, his cape getting caught on the window frame briefly before he scrambles away.

Dick calls out an apology to you before trailing out the window after him.

Jason lets out a heavy exhale and turns to you, hands gliding naturally to your waist.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t need to be.”

He gives a low hum and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he crashes down onto the sofa.

“Should I feel bad about almost railing you into the couch?”

“I wouldn’t waste any tears over it. Not like it would’ve been the first time we did it.”

He laughs and tugs you further into his chest. You curl into him and close your eyes, thinking.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“How did Tim survive as Robin?”

“I’ve been asking that question for years.”

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bittersweetblasphemy · 1 year

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lol guess who's having a panic attack over a typing test?

#im trying to land this unbelievably perfect job #and they wanted me to take a typing assessment bc they want 65wpm #which under normal circumstances wouldn't be a problem #except my computer will at random not recognize when i hit my n key #and i don't have another suitable keyboard #so that killed my wpm #especially on the last one when it didn't pick it up a whole bunch of times and i kept having to fix it #that one went all the way down to 50 wpm ;v;#hoping my 100% accuracy across the board counts for something #definitely one of the dumbest things to have ever caused me to have a panic attack tho

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year

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Thinking about reader getting herself stuck in a wall for some reason and asks Scara to help her out. But because her rear end is exposed at his side, he got horny cuz she's helpless and can't help but fuck and fill her up with his seed before actually helping her out

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut.

You stared, wide eyed at what just happened. You'd been reaching for a piece of jewelry to wear whenever your hand twitched. The next thing you knew, it was falling out of your hand, falling in between the dresser and the wall.

You assessed the situation, and gathered that you indeed could fit into the space to retrieve your jewelry. Scaramouche walked into your room just in time to see you bent over in between the dresser and the wall.

"What are you doing?" He asked, crossing his arms as he watched you straining your fingers out to retrieve the jewelry.

"I dropped something," You said, sticking your tongue out in concentration. You smiled somewhat when you picked up the piece of jewelry.

You started to move back, however, you discovered that getting out was a lot harder than getting in. You started to struggle, trying to angle your body in certain ways to see if you could wiggle out.

But to avail.

You were stuck.

You let out a quiet, exasperated sigh.

"What's wrong? Are you stuck?" Scaramouche scoffed, teasing you. You couldn't see the way his eyes were fixated on your ass as he moved closer to you.

"...No," You replied, you could practically feel the shit eating smirk on his face. You wiggled a little before you sighed, defeated. You blushed when you realized what exactly you were stuck on. "...Yes. I'm stuck..on my boobs."

Scaramouche laughed. "It's not funny, Scara. I'm really stuck," You said, trying to move again. Your ass was inadvertently up against his crotch, making him swallow back a groan of lust.

"How inconvenient for you, but," He purred, grinding against you. "Very convenient for me." He pushed your skirt up around your hips, his fingers finding your clit outside your panties. He rubbed and stroked, drawing arousal to dampen your panties.

"Seriously, Scara?! I'm stuck and that's the first thing your mind?" You exclaimed, swallowing back a moan when you felt your clit beginning to swell and throb.

"You are so delicate, so helpless without me," Scaramouche pushed your panties aside, pinching your clit between his fingers. "I'll help you out," He took his fingers off of your clit to unbutton his shorts, "when I am done of course."

Taking out his cock, he pumped his hand on it before pressing the tip against your clit. You could do nothing but moan softly in pleasure, grinding back against him.

"Before I fuck you full of my cum, allow me to tell you how impractical it was not to move the dresser aside some first," Scaramouche taunted, angling your hips before he pushed his cock inside of you, bottoming out with one snap of his hips.

You gasped loudly in pleasure, your fingernails digging into the surface of the floor to ground yourself as he cock kissed your sweet spot. He hit it with well aimed accuracy, bringing your walls to quiver and clamp around his cock.

"You poor thing, you are so sensitive. Your walls always beg to squeeze around my cock the moment I fuck myself inside of you. You know I love it when you are needy," Scaramouche enjoyed the way you were quivering in pleasure, your moans bleeding into broken whimpers and sobs of pleasure.

"That's my good girl, babble about how good I am making you feel," He groaned, shuddering in pleasure from the way his cock throbbed with his impending orgasm.

His fingers found your clit again, he could feel you were close. Just a few more thrusts would push you over the edge, bringing to cream screaming on his cock.

Scaramouche fucked you through your orgasm, his cum painting your walls as it spilled inside of you. His pace never relented while he made sure hardly a drop leaked out of you.

You whined when Scaramouche pulled out of you, grinding needily against him. He chuckled, moving the dresser aside for to crawl out.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n

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lifeinacartoonart · 9 months

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CREATING AUTHENTIC DEAF AND HARD OF HEARING CHARACTERS: A WRITER'S JOURNAL

Introduction

Creating authentic characters in your writing is essential for engaging storytelling, and this includes characters who are deaf or hard of hearing. To craft a character that accurately represents this community, it's crucial to do your research, gain a deep understanding of their experiences, and portray them with sensitivity and respect. In this journal, we'll explore how to write a deaf or hard-of-hearing character, including key information and preparation steps.

Understanding Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing Characters

Research: Start by researching deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals' experiences, challenges, and culture. Read books, articles, and personal stories, and watch documentaries or interviews featuring members of the Deaf community.

Consult with Experts: Reach out to members of the Deaf community or experts in Deaf studies to gain insights into their experiences. They can provide invaluable guidance and help you avoid common misconceptions.

Diversity Within the Community: Understand that the Deaf and hard-of-hearing communities are diverse. Some individuals communicate using sign language, while others rely on lip-reading, cochlear implants, or hearing aids. Be aware of these differences when creating your character.

Character Development

Backstory and Identity: Consider your character's background. Were they born deaf, or did they become deaf later in life? How do they identify within the Deaf community? Understanding their identity and experiences will shape their character.

Language and Communication: Decide how your character communicates. Are they fluent in sign language, or do they primarily rely on lip-reading and spoken language? Their communication style will influence their interactions with other characters.

Cultural Awareness: Explore the cultural aspects of the Deaf community. Understand the importance of Deaf culture, including its history, art, and values. Incorporate these elements into your character's life when relevant.

Writing Tips

Dialogue and Communication: When writing dialogue for a deaf or hard-of-hearing character, be mindful of their unique communication style. Use visual cues, body language, and facial expressions to convey emotions and context.

Access to Information: Consider the challenges your character may face in accessing information. This could involve issues with closed captioning, subtitles, or accommodations in educational or work settings.

Social Interactions: Depict social interactions realistically. Show how your character navigates conversations, group dynamics, and social events within their community and with hearing individuals.

Preparation

Sensitivity Readers: Consider hiring sensitivity readers who are part of the Deaf or hard-of-hearing community to review your work and provide feedback. Their insights can help you avoid stereotypes and inaccuracies.

Learn Sign Language: If your character uses sign language, take the time to learn at least basic signs. This will not only enrich your writing but also demonstrate your commitment to accuracy.

Beta Readers: Seek feedback from a diverse group of beta readers who can assess the authenticity of your character and offer constructive criticism.

Engage with the Community: Attend Deaf community events, workshops, or online forums to immerse yourself in the culture and better understand the perspectives and experiences of deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals.

Creating a deaf or hard-of-hearing character that resonates with readers requires dedication, empathy, and thorough research. By following these steps and embracing the rich culture and diversity of the Deaf community, you can create a character that is not only authentic but also promotes understanding and inclusivity in your writing. In addition, when writing dialogue for your deaf or hard-of-hearing character, remember:

It's important to clarify why, when writing dialogue for a deaf character, you should continue to use structured English grammar and not sign language structured grammar.

Maintaining Structured English Grammar:

Readability: Writing in structured English grammar ensures that the text remains accessible and comprehensible to all readers, including those who may not be familiar with sign language or Deaf culture. It avoids potential confusion that could arise from using sign language grammar in written text.

Universal Understanding: English is a global language, and adhering to its grammar rules allows for a wider audience to understand and engage with your story. Sign language grammar varies between different sign languages, making it less universally applicable in written form.

Respect for the Medium: While sign language is a rich and expressive mode of communication, it is primarily a visual and gestural language. Attempting to replicate sign language grammar in written text can be cumbersome and may not fully capture the nuances of sign language communication.

Balance of Realism and Readability: Striking a balance between authenticity and readability is crucial in storytelling. Maintaining structured English grammar while depicting a deaf character's interactions helps convey the character's experience without compromising the reader's ability to follow the narrative.

As an illustration, consider the following text: Dialogues with Descriptive Sign Language:

Sarah greeted John with a warm smile, her hands moving gracefully as she signed, "Hi, how are you?"

John returned the greeting in sign language, his expressions mirroring his words. "I'm good, thanks. Did you see the new movie?"

Sarah's eyes lit up as she signed back enthusiastically, "Yes, I loved it!"

In summary, using structured English grammar when writing dialogue for a deaf character is a practical and respectful choice that ensures your writing remains inclusive and accessible to a broad audience while still authentically representing the character's identity and experiences.

Furthermore, it's essential to avoid creating a character who is overly perfect or one-dimensional. In real life, we understand that everyone has imperfections and complexities, regardless of whether they are deaf or hard of hearing. Therefore, it's entirely acceptable to depict your character as a villain with a hearing issue if that aligns with your storytelling goals.

#writing deaf characters #hard of hearing #writing tips #writing resources #sign language #bsl #asl #auslan #fiction writing #building a character #writing guilde #writing characters with disibilities

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ozzgin · 8 months

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Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.

TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending

[Horror Masterlist]

"Burnt to a crisp."

You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up.

"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.

"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."

"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."

Your only feedback is a barely audible hum.

Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.

That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.

They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one.

His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it.

He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary.

Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way.

But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only.

"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."

"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.

"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."

And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.

"Vitals are positive. No significant damage."

You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.

"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."

"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.

"No."

You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible.

"What did you say?"

"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."

Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later.

The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.

"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people.

You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile.

"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"

"Walter."

"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.

"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."

"Understandable."

David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.

"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."

The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.

The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation.

"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."

You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe.

"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.

"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"

"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best."

You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly.

"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."

"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."

You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it.

"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense."

"Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."

Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved.

"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."

"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."

Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.

"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.

"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."

"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."

"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.

"Do you love her?"

Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.

"I do."

"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you.

You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter.

Should you make a run for it?

You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.

"Don't!"

The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin.

Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.

"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out.

Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.

"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair.

"It won't kill her."

"How do you know?"

"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."

"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.

"A plaything."

The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always.

You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities.

Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.

Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up.

"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave.

Not until it had its fun with you.

#alien #alien covenant #prometheus #xenomorph #neomorph #neomorph x reader #xenomorph x reader #alien x reader #monster x reader #android x reader #robot x reader #yandere #yandere alien #yandere x reader #monster smut

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jihn-tickler · 2 months

Text

With each clanking noise emanating from the pulley device you could feel your wrists being pulled further away and your body gradually being stretched out.

Being cuffed to the slim wooden frame and rendered powerless, you can hear your own heart pounding to a million beats per second as you are stretched taut.

You halfheartedly tug at your wrists for no reason other than to reaffirm your captivity.

"So this is it, I am super stuck", you think to yourself.

You have seen this exact scenario being played out countless times both inside your head and in the videos that lured you into the world of tickling in the first place.

But no amount of research could have prepared you for this moment, being laid out and pinned down to a torture device where you can feel the hard wood pressing against your bare skin makes it feel all too surreal.

Before you start getting cold feet, your tickler starts to slowly trace a finger around your naval area, sending you into a frenzy of uncontrollable giggles.

The errant finger circles around the bellybutton with such flair and accuracy that it snaps you out of your anxieties, depriving you of the ability to think about anything other than your ticklish predicament.

"You are in some deep trouble, Missy."

The skillful tickler correctly assess the situation, both of you gathered from this little tease that you are far too ticklish for your own good.

Your cheeks are scorching from the mere thought of having your entire body, from head to toe, thoroughly exploited for manic laughter. And that's how it is supposed to be.

#tickle thoughts #tickling #t word #tickle content #tword content #tickle community #tword community #tickletorture #lee thoughts

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autball · 1 year

Text

Betcha it would improve accessibility AND accuracy. Just sayin'.

(Image description: A 3-panel cartoon by Autball.

1: A white box at the top left reads, “Trained Diagnostician.” A green adult sits behind a brown desk, and a ND adult (pink/magenta gradient) sits across from them. Both have a neutral expression. Green says, “Hi. I use a bunch of assessments that are heavily biased and based on outdated ideas that will take many hours and multiple days to complete. I will likely require input from people who knew you way back when and probably don’t have the most accurate memories and interpretations fo what you were like as a kid. I will weigh all outside observations more heavily than your own self-assessment.”

2: Close up of Green, who is smiling and says, “Once that’s done, I’ll take several more months to write it all up, then we’ll schedule yet another appointment where I let you know if I think you meet the aforementioned biased and outdated criteria. Oh, and I’ll charge you an arm and a leg for all of it. See you in six months to a year!”

3: A white box at the top left reads. “Group of Autistic People.” Four ND adults (yellow/orange gradient, pink/magenta gradient, light blue/blue gradient, and light green/green gradient) sit around a large brown table. Each of them has a glass of water in front of them, and all are smiling. Yellow/orange says to Pink/magenta, “Hey! Just buy us dinner, we’ll sit around and chat for a while, and then we’ll let you know by the end of the night.” Off to the right, Light green/green whispers to Light blue/blue, “I don’t even think I’ll need THAT long with this one.”)

#autism #autistic #actually autistic #autistic adult #autistic women #autistic experiences #autistic feels #autistic funny

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basshole-astard · 9 months

Text

[AMERICAN POLITICS]

i know everyone is worried about KOSA being a censorship bill, and that's fair. but do you know what really, REALLY concerns me about this bill? the fact they want to install age verification systems at the device/operating system level

(transcript with highlights below cut)

this will almost definitely track your data - note how it doesn't say how much, just that it's going to have to collect some, and that's worrying. to me. best case scenario we need to give our devices our government ID. worst case scenario it's tracking app usage and browser history and who knows what else. they don't say! how convenient.

but, based on Sec. 6(d)(5) "consider indicia or inferences of age of users, in addition to any self-declared information about the age of individuals." and Sec. 10(a)(1)(D) "using indicia or inferences of age of users for assessing use of the covered platform by minors", nevermind Sec. 9(b)(4)'s own admission that some data will be collected, that's.... that's data tracking.

and i know websites already do this, but i feel like a government mandated software for age verification that will track this data is a step too far.....

read the text of the bill here, if you want. genuinely the amount of legaleze is - as far as i can tell - only going to PROBABLY cause censorship, not GUARANTEE it.

but you know what KOSA does guarantee? stated plainly and clearly in their intents of what this bill will do? data tracking.

so if you're contacting your senators about opposing this bill, please consider not only voicing your concerns about censorship, but also about the privacy violations. thank you.

contact your senators here

highlighted text in image bolded

SEC. 9. Age verification study and report.

(a) Study.—The Director of the National Institute of Standards and Technology, in coordination with the Federal Communications Commission, Federal Trade Commission, and the Secretary of Commerce, shall conduct a study evaluating the most technologically feasible methods and options for developing systems to verify age at the device or operating system level.

(b) Contents.—Such study shall consider —

(1) the benefits of creating a device or operating system level age verification system;

(2) what information may need to be collected to create this type of age verification system;

(3) the accuracy of such systems and their impact or steps to improve accessibility, including for individuals with disabilities;

(4) how such a system or systems could verify age while mitigating risks to user privacy and data security and safeguarding minors' personal data, emphasizing minimizing the amount of data collected and processed by covered platforms and age verification providers for such a system; and

(5) the technical feasibility, including the need for potential hardware and software changes, including for devices currently in commerce and owned by consumers.

(c) Report.—Not later than 1 year after the date of enactment of this Act, the agencies described in subsection (a) shall submit a report containing the results of the study conducted under such subsection to the Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation of the Senate and the Committee on Energy and Commerce of the House of Representatives.

#uspol

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sycamorelibrary754 · 3 months

Note

You can change any details to this if you like, this is just an idea & ofc, you don't have to write it 🥰

Yelena's had it bad for Reader since they met, she never said anything and never acted on her feelings. But when Reader and Kate go on a first date, it rattles Yelena who turns to Nat or Melina for help.

Yelena can either confess her feelings to reader or she sees how much Kate and Reader make each other happy and puts on a brave face and stays silent in hopes the feelings will go away eventually

Blondie

Summary: Yelena has harbored feelings for you since you met but never acted on them. It isn't until you start getting close to Kate that all those feelings come to the forefront.

Pairings: Yelena x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you for the request, it was fun! I hope you enjoy it!

"Yelena… Yelena!” Kate said firmly.

“Earth to the widow,” Clint added.

The blonde shook her head as if to clear out the fog and tore her eyes away from you. "Hmm, what?" she asked, looking at them in confusion.

"It's your move," Kate said, pointing at the Jenga tower before them.

She nodded in understanding, apologizing for her absent-mindedness, and then reached out to remove a block from the stack, trying her best not to topple the tower.

Yelena's eyes wandered over to you once again. You were seated at the kitchen island with your tablet, engrossed in reviewing the blueprints for new weapon upgrades with Tony. As always, you were Stark’s favorite engineer. Thanks to a grant from the September Foundation at MIT, you worked your way up at Stark Industries from an intern to becoming the genius’s partner in the lab.

Yelena would be lying if she said she wasn't completely enamored with you from the moment she met you. She watched Tony give you a fist bump as your impromptu meeting ended. Yelena rushed over to try and catch you before you left. She was barely able to wedge her arm in the elevator doors just as they closed.

"Hey there, blondie! How are you?" you greeted her warmly, adjusting the leather strap on your bag.

"Good… I'm good," Yelena murmured, stepping onto the elevator with you.

"I'm excited for you to see the new weapons upgrades tomorrow. I think you'll enjoy it. I wanted to do something special for you," you winked.

Before Yelena could respond, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened to reveal Tony's lab.

"Well, this is my stop. See you later, Yelena," you said with a friendly smile.

"Okay, bye," Yelena called out as the doors closed. "Ugh, what is wrong with me?!"

"From what I can detect, Ms. Belova, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you," FRIDAY said. "Would you like me to run a full body scan?"

"Quiet, FRIDAY," Yelena grumbled.

*^~^*

The next day, Yelena joined the rest of the team in the spacious training area to test their new weapon upgrades. You wanted to meticulously evaluate each weapon, assessing their accuracy, efficiency, and overall ease of use.

As the team familiarized themselves with their new weapons, Kate casually commented about you. "Y/N is so cute, don’t you think?" she said, nudging Yelena.

Yelena glanced at you, observing as you took notes on your tablet. You had a look of determination on your face as you playfully swatted Tony away from leaning over your shoulder.

"Yeah, if you like mini Tony Stark’s. Sure, she’s cute," she responded with a sigh.

Kate continued, "I think we’ve shared some eye contact here and there. You know Peter told me that she told him in their last lab session that she was on the archery team in high school, too."

Yelena rolled her eyes. "How riveting, Kate Bishop."

Just then, you interrupted their conversation and asked, "How are we doing over here, girls?"

"Good!" they both answered simultaneously.

You couldn't help but smile at their synchronized response, raising an eyebrow at the girls, but you decided to let it slide.

"Okay, Kate, let's start with you. I know you've been bugging Clint for labeled arrows, but I thought you deserved something more streamlined," you explained. "So, I got to work and was able to integrate a pinpoint version of Edith into your quiver."

The archer looked at you with curiosity and excitement as you placed her quiver full of arrows over her shoulder.

"Hello, Kate Bishop," Edith said, her voice clear and crisp.

"Oh, hello," Kate replied, looking slightly bewildered.

"I am Edith. Tony Stark's augmented reality security and defense system. Standby for biometric scan."

"Okie dokie," Kate mumbled, still staring at the quiver in amazement.

With a soft beep, Edith announced that the biometric scan was complete.

"All you have to do is call for the type of arrow you want. Give it a try," you explained.

"Flare arrow," Kate said, her voice firm and confident.

In response, a small metal claw emerged from the side of the container, deftly pulling a flare arrow from the quiver and placing it against the bow, ready for Kate to pull back into position.

"Whoa! This is so cool! No more fumbling for arrows. Thank you so much, Y/N. I love it!" Kate exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she hugged you.

"You're more than welcome," you replied, slightly taken aback by the sudden display of affection.

Yelena tried to distract herself by fiddling with her rings, but she couldn't help but notice the way your cheeks turned red when Kate hugged you.

"Hey there, blondie!" you exclaimed, clapping your hands. "You're up next, and I can't wait for this one. I've been dying to take a stab at your knives, no pun intended," you giggled mischievously.

You brought over a case and opened it to reveal a brand new set of knives for Yelena.

She looked down, puzzled. "They look the same as my other ones.”

"To the untrained eye," you replied, picking up a knife, "but these babies are electrically charged, just like your widow bites."

With one swift motion, you sliced through the air, unleashing a burst of electrifying blue energy from the knife's blade.

Yelena's eyes sparkled with surprise and gratitude, "Wow, thank you, Y/N. These knives are so cool and exactly what I needed."

"I was hoping you’d say that," you replied, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

“And I must say, you look pretty good holding that knife,” Yelena smirked.

"Oh, thank you,” you giggled. “Listen, do you think maybe—"

Suddenly, a loud crashing sound interrupted your conversation. You both turned your heads to find Bruce lying disheveled underneath a mesh net at the other end of the training area.

"Oh, come on,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “I’ve got to see if Banner is okay; I’ll try to catch up with you later, Yelena."

Yelena was left alone again, wishing she could muster up the courage to be honest with you.

*^~^*

Yelena struggled to keep her grip on two overflowing buckets of popcorn and a handful of candy as she walked toward the movie theater. She turned to Natasha and asked, "Remind me again why we’re responsible for all the popcorn and candy?"

"Wanda promised Billy and Tommy that we would see Dune Part 2 together and paid for our tickets. The least we can do is pay for the snacks,” Nat said.

Yelena sighed and agreed, "Fair enough, but I still say the two mini-Maximoffs could help us carry some of this stuff."

After they arrived at their seats, they passed candy and popcorn down the line to Wanda and the boys. The theater was filled with excitement, and everyone was eagerly waiting for the movie to start. Suddenly, a video on the screen reminded theater-goers to silence their phones before the feature began.

“Greetings, humble theater-goers. Captain America here," he said with a salute.

“Oh, good Lord. We’re never getting away from him, are we?” Wanda joked.

“We would like to remind you that any recording device is strictly prohibited. Please take this moment to turn off all cell phones before the movie begins."

At that moment, Yelena heard a familiar giggle a few rows down. She looked around, but it wasn’t until she stood up that she saw you. There you sat, sharing a carton of popcorn and candy with Kate Bishop, looking adorable in your olive green jumpsuit and glasses.

Yelena's heart sank, and she struggled to process the emotions. All she could muster was, “We need more candy.”

“What? We practically bought the entire candy display,” Nat said.

“Then we need Vodka,” Yelena retorted as she rushed down the steps and out of the theater.

“Yelena! What’s wrong?” Nat called out after her. She watched her sister in confusion until she noticed you and Kate. “Oh man…” she sighed.

Natasha turned to Wanda, “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” Wanda reassured her.

Yelena was sitting on the carpet outside the theater with her elbows resting on her knees when Natasha found her. The redhead sat down beside her, mirroring her position.

Keeping her eyes trained forward, Nat asked gently, “Are you okay?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?" Yelena replied without looking at her sister.

“Maybe because Y/N is sitting in there with Kate?”

“Was she? Good for her," Yelena fibbed.

“Yelena…”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Natasha,” she snapped as she stood up. “Tell Wanda and the boys I’m sorry, but I must get out of here.”

Natasha pulled out her phone and dialed the only number she could think of. “Hi, I think Yelena needs you right now.”

*^~^*

Yelena walked back to the compound in solitude, her thoughts and emotions churning like the sea. She walked right past Peter and MJ, who invited her to join them for a movie on the sofa, but she silently declined and continued down the hall. When she reached her bedroom, she slammed the door shut and groaned

"Rough day?" A familiar voice spoke up from behind her, full of understanding and compassion.

Yelena turned to find Melina sitting on her bed, looking at her with a comforting smile. "Mama? What are you doing here?" Yelena exclaimed, surprised to see her mother in her room and not in St. Petersburg.

"Hi, malyshka (baby)," Melina greeted her. "Natalia called me," she explained.

"How did you get here so fast?" Yelena asked, wondering how she could have made such a quick trip.

"I have my ways," Melina smirked. "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?" she asked, patting the space beside her on the bed.

She hesitated momentarily before finally giving in and sitting beside her mother. "I'm sure Natasha already filled you in," she said softly.

"Yes, but sometimes it helps when we talk things out," Melina explained gently.

Yelena took a deep breath before finally opening up. "Mama, there's this girl, Y/N," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "She's Stark's top engineer, and she's just... amazing. She's not like anyone else I've ever met. She sees me, you know? She sees me for who I am, not just as a widow or an assassin or a hero. And she's so smart and pretty, I can't stop thinking about her," Yelena explained.

Her mother listened patiently and asked, "Have you told her how you feel?"

Yelena's heart sank. "No, I haven't. Whenever I try to talk to her, I get all flustered and tongue-tied. And now it's too late anyway because she is at the movies with Kate Bishop," she replied, her voice full of disappointment.

"You can't give up so easily, sweetheart. Y/N deserves to know how you feel. You should talk to her," she encouraged.

What should I say?" Yelena asked

"I can't tell you what to say. That has to come from your heart. You will know what to say when the time is right.”

"Thank you, Mama. I don't know what I would do without you,” wrapping her arms tightly around her mother.

"You're welcome, dorogoy (sweetheart). I will always be here for you," holding her youngest daughter close.

*^~^*

Yelena had been struggling to keep her mind off you for the past few days, especially after her heart-to-heart conversation with Melina. But she was determined to stay focused and busy training the recruits. It was a challenge, but a welcome one at that.

"Keep your eyes on your target, Jack! Yes! Now, block and flip. Good, nicely done," she said between the punches and kicks.

She was so focused on the training that she didn't hear you approaching her from behind.

As you called out to Yelena, she jumped with a small gasp. You quickly apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry, blondie! It's just me," while holding your hands up in defense.

Yelena, slightly embarrassed, replied, "Oh, Y/N. Hi. I didn't see you there.”

"You're a spy. Aren't you supposed to see everything?" you teased.

“You would think so,” she said, fidgeting with her rings again. “So, what's up?” she asked, picking up her belongings.

“I wanted to ask if I did something to upset you. Maybe it's all in my mind, but I feel like you've been avoiding me for the past few days,” nervously running your hands through your hair.

Yelena dropped her water bottle on the floor, and her heart dropped with it. “Oh, no. No, no, Y/N. You didn't do anything wrong. I've just been preoccupied with mission reports and training these doofuses.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh, okay, because when I saw you leaving the movie theater the other day—"

“You saw me?” The blood drained from Yelena’s face.

“Yeah… you were with Nat, Wanda, and the twins.”

“Oh yeah, I was, but then I remembered I had a meeting, and I had to go,” Yelena rushed to answer.

“Oh, good, I thought maybe you left because of me,” you said, shifting your weight back and forth on your feet.

“Listen, Y/N, I —“ you began but were interrupted by FRIDAY.

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Stark is looking for you,” FRIDAY interrupted.

Your head dropped in defeat. “Tell him I’m busy, FRIDAY,” you grumbled.

“Mr. Stark says if you don’t come right now, he will have Peter shadow you for a month,” FRIDAY warned.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

“Duty calls,” Yelena said light-heartedly.

"Yeah, I guess so," you sighed. "But I do want to talk to you. Can I see you after work? I get off at 6:30."

“Sure, I’ll meet you in the common area,” Yelena offered.

“Perfect, I’ll see you then,” you said with a thumbs up as you started to backpedal out of the gym.

You thought you had pulled off a pretty smooth move until you failed to take notice of the duffle bags on the floor and fell backward onto your butt. Yelena couldn't help but giggle at you.

“I’m okay! I’m okay,” you shouted as you got up and jogged out of the gym.

*^~^*

Yelena couldn't shake off the anxiety for the next few hours. Her mind was all over the place thinking about you. When she finally made her way down to the common area, she was annoyed, but not surprised, to find Sam and Bucky playing PS5 on the sofa.

“Hey, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, get out. I need the room,” she tossed a pillow at the two guys.

“We were here first,” Bucky said.

“That’s nice. Seriously, out,” Yelena said sternly.

“Look, just because you're Natasha’s sister doesn't mean you can just waltz in here and kick us out,” Sam retorted.

“Natasha’s sister is going to kick both your asses if you don’t get out of here now,” Yelena stood in front of the television, daring them to challenge her.

“What is so important that we have to leave?” Bucky asked.

Just then, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal you standing there. Your messenger bag was slung over your shoulder, and your glasses were picking up the glare from your phone.

“Oh, got it,” Bucky said, answering his own question. “Come on, Sam, let’s go.”

“Right behind you,” Sam said.

“Thank you,” Yelena whispered, kicking their PS5 controllers under the coffee table and straightening the pillows.

"Thanks for meeting me so late," you sighed as you settled down next to. Yelena. "I swear, that man can drive me crazy sometimes. When I got to the lab, he was in a full-on meltdown because his anniversary present for Pepper went up in flames. And then..."

Before you could finish your sentence, Yelena cut you off abruptly. "I like you," she exclaimed.

"What...what do you mean?" you stammered.

"I’m sorry. I know this is probably not the best way to say it," Yelena continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. "And I know you're probably here to tell me you're seeing Kate Bishop, but I want you to know. I like you. I like how your cute glasses slip down your nose when working. I like how you tell those funny engineering stories I don't always understand. I like that you are kind and caring to everyone in this building, no matter who they are or what they do. Most of all, I like how you see me. You see me, and that's something I've never had before."

Her brain finally catching up with her words, Yelena muttered to herself, "Oh my God, what am I doing? I should go."

But before she could step away, you grabbed her hand, stopping her in her tracks. You remained silent for a moment, staring at your hands tightly interlocked.

Then, finally, you spoke up, "Yelena, I'm glad you told me because… I like you too. That is what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s what I've been trying to tell you for the past week,” you explained. “Kate and I are just friends, I don't have any feelings for her that way. Honestly, I thought it was obvious. I like you, blondie. I always have."

Your words seemed to soothe Yelena's worries, and she slowly sat back down beside you, the tension in her body dissipating.

“Oh, wow,” Yelena sighed.

With a smirk, you finally said, "Wow, indeed… would it be okay if I kissed you?"

"Yes,” Yelena said softly.

As your bodies drew closer, your lips met in a slow, tender kiss. The intimacy between you both was palpable as the warmth of your breath mingled and your eyes locked in a gaze that spoke a thousand words. The softness of the kiss turned into a passionate embrace that ignited a spark of desire in both your hearts, a spark that would change your lives forever. At that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection you shared, a deep, unbreakable bond that would grow stronger with time.

#yelena belova #yelena boleva x reader #kate bishop #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #peter parker #melina vostokoff #mcu #the avengers #fluff

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unholyhelbig · 9 months

Note

Can you do a Kate x reader fic where Kate and R are friends and R gets hurt and ends up unconscious for a while and Kate confesses her feelings? Thanks so much, love your work :)

Title: The Sun Also Rises

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4155

Warnings: Injuries, blood, general heartbreak, gunshot wounds, yelling and Ernest Hemingway if you're an English major

[A/n: Can you tell I'm nearing the end of my quarantine by the sheer amount of content I've been churning out? Less than 24 hours and I'm free from my enclosure. Also, did not proofread this one either]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The mission was simple. It was recon. They weren’t supposed to engage unless they were engaged first. Kate Bishop knew this was how things were intended to go, but she also knew that nothing was predictable in the field and no matter how much they prepared for things to go wrong, it was never expected when they did.

Her fingers had gone numb in the cold of the night, her ribs had a dull ache that thrummed with her heartbeat. Kate was pressed against the rocky rooftop, binoculars pressed to her eyes as she watched the abandoned building aptly.

You were on the ground, bundled nice and warm in a van that was parked half a block away. There was a non-descript logo of a cooling company painted on the side, and the meter had been paid off for the foreseeable future. It was a safe zone. It was supposed to be a safe zone.

Kate could feel a burning in her shoulders, took a moment to adjust herself on the rooftop. That was all it took, really. She hadn’t seen the flicker of movement at the base of the building, the way that freight doors were pushed open in the dark.

“Kate,” her partner’s voice came through her comm. It was wracked with static despite the fact that she sat in the epitome of tech. “We might have a problem.”

“What’s going on?”

“Four suits walking my way.”

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. Of course, you could handle yourself against four guys. It was when the weapons came into play that things became questionable. Training didn’t matter, not when bullets ripped through flesh and blood began to pour.

Kate directed her sights to the group of tracksuits that were strolling down the rain-reflected pavement. Kate tightened her grip against the binoculars until her knuckles turned white. She let out the slightest breath as they approached.

She nocked an arrow, pulling it effortlessly from the quiver strapped to her back. Her fingers were damp, still numb. But that didn’t change her accuracy. The two of you waited with bated breath.

The four men stopped a few feet away from your van, lilting their heads as if they were assessing the situation. There was a moment of quiet, it could have been a minute, maybe even two, but to Kate it felt like a century. She could feel the string of her bow cutting into her skin, the shaking in each inhalation of cold air.

“Well, fuck”

You whispered the words before gunfire erupted. Kate thinks that you sensed it before she did, and the second the first flash popped, she released her arrow into the crook of the offenders knee. But there were three more, and while she re-nocked and aimed between the ribs of the next.

There were two more shots fired and Kate didn’t have much of a moment to think. The van was littered with bullet-holes and she used her third arrow to create a line directly to you, wrapped sloppily around a lamp post.

She didn’t wait, not with you. Never with you. If there was any fear of bolstering her bow and swinging down to street level, she didn’t feel it. Both heels of her boots hit the third suits’ chest. She heard a pop that rivaled the scent of gunpowder as he dropped.

Kate wordlessly used her bow to take out the last guy, his gun lowered. Her mind was screaming, even as she smashed the instrument against a temple hard with enough force to break skin. She kicked the gun away, something that seemed of little consequence, but had dalmationed the van.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Kate pulled open the back door of the van. It groaned in response. She could smell the sweet metal before her eyes located you. Screens smoked, laptops going dark, but taking the brunt of the gunfire. You had pushed everything from a bolstered platform, having moved it in front of you for another layer of metal before the gunfire met you.

Smart. You were always so smart, even in distress. It was part of the reason Kate loved having you as a mission partner. That- and you weren’t against playing twenty questions with her through the coms when it was just the two of you.

Kate’s heart broke into a million pieces as she hoisted herself up into the back of the van. Her boots slid on the blood that was slowly seeping across the metal floor. She fell to her knees painfully but didn’t care. Instead, she pushed the table away.

You were curled in on yourself, but despite your coiled stance, she could see the blood. There was so much of it. She could barely hear your stunted breathes, but when she homed in on them, they were fast and shallow. Kate’s fingers pressed against your pulse point. That, on the other hand, was dangerously slow.

“Y/n, stay with me,” Kate rasped out, patting her pockets until she found her phone.

It threatened to slide out of her hands, swipes of blood glowing through the screen. She pressed Natasha’s contact name. Her handler. Her confidant. She only had to say a few words, it was plaguing her voice so deeply, nothing else was needed. “Nat, I need you.”

Three bullets total had hit you. Two in the abdomen and one in the chest. The slight gurgling noise that Kate had heard in the back of the van was a good sign of life, but a bad sign for your lungs. One had threatened to collapse and really; Doctor Cho had essentially said the best thing they could do was make sure that you were stabilized.

She had used the words “make sure she’s comfortable” and Kate must have let out an inhuman noise because Yelena was at her side, gently leading her away from the med bay and towards the closest bathroom. It was an unnatural stainless-steel white compared to the broken state Kate found herself in.

“Malen'kiy yastreb, you have to breathe.”

Yelena’s words were soft, riddled with a quiet accent that held no malice. She guided Kate to the toilet, sitting her on the lid before she pulled as many towels as she could from the dispenser. She warmed water and waited until they were soaked through. Yelena shut off the water and knelt in front of Kate.

She took Kate’s chin and gently started to wipe away the dried blood on her face. Kate’s hands were saturated, her clothes caked with the drying substance. There was so much of it, so much. And while Yelena knew it would be too much to coax Kate into taking a shower, she worked with what she had.

“I should have done more. When they were walking towards her, I waited. We… wanted to see what they would do, and they opened fire, Lena.”

It was a bold move. They had somehow clocked that they were being watched and made a massive play that was bordering on pure aggression. Kate could feel anger form cold in her stomach.

“We will handle it.” Yelena moved to Kate’s hands, working away at the dark red tint. When she said that, Kate knew she meant it. There was a darkness in her eyes that mirrored the underlying sorrow Kate felt in your absence.

They sat quietly for a moment. The only sounds were the scrubbing of Yelena’s efforts and the small sniffs as Kate let her tears hit the collar of her shirt. The words, they were stuck in her throat.

“What if she doesn’t make it?”

Forbade their close proximity, and Yelena would not have heard the question, but her heart broke undoubtedly. She stopped working away at the color, now a dingy orange, something that was manageable and less gory.

Yelena knew how Kate Bishop felt about you. She would have been a terrible assassin if she did not pick up on the soft gestures, the longing looks, and the seconds that sparked between you both while you sparred; your back against the mat, Kate pinning you down with a smile that could only ring in it’s truest form.

She hadn’t admitted it yet, despite the poking and prodding that Yelena forced upon her. After all, their line of work was a dangerous one, and not a place to pine. Life was too short not to ask for what you wanted, and that was truer now than it ever had been.

“We will handle that too, Malen'kiy yastreb. Right now, you have to be with her. When Natasha was in her coma, they said she wouldn’t pull through, but she did. They also said that just being there was what helped her hold on. Talking to her. Perhaps you should do the same?”

It wasn’t a question, not really, because Yelena stood and tapped the side of Kate’s knee to jolt her from her trance. She’d stopped crying, at least, a numbness spreading through her. If she had paid attention to the blood, really paid attention, then she would crumble once more.

Yelena had helped more than she realized, and Kate made a mental note to make it up to her at some point. Despite her rough exterior, Natasha was the one who typically dealt with the feelings. Clint was impossible at it, and Yelena performed in actions rather than words, but Kate didn’t’ need someone to tell her it would all be okay, not right now.

The med bay was mostly empty when Kate returned. There was a nurse in toxic blue scrubs that glanced up at her noncommittedly when she entered, and Kate was oddly thankful for that too. Her eyes darted to your room, a last-minute edition from Tony when one of the team members had an extended stay.

It looked more like an escape pod, bright lights that were dimmed for comfort and a hospital bed. There was a chair that could recline and another one that didn’t. It was built for quarantine if needed, but the door was cracked open.

You looked so small, dwarfed by the machines that worked tirelessly to keep you alive. There was a breathing tube taped to your lips, and a needle had been pushed into the top of your hand. Your stomach and chest had been wrapped with gauze; a small bandage placed over a cut on your brow- so inconsequential.

Kate couldn’t stop the whimper that moved through her lips, but she pressed her fingers against them to stifle the sound. There were so many emotions, so much hurt and anger at herself for not getting to you faster.

She carefully stepped closer, using her stained fingertips to move a strand of hair from your clammy forehead. Kate could hear her tears hitting the scratchy blanket. There was a monitor that beeped along with your heart, and she thought it was much too slow.

“Hi there,” She whispered, taking your hand. It was cold, and she wanted desperately to warm them. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry y/n/n.”

Kate finally broke down, careful with her movements as she sobbed into the small of your neck. You usually smelled of pine, and of the slightest bit of sweat, but all she could get was metal and antiseptic.

“You have to pull through for me, okay? There’s so much we haven’t gotten the chance to do. We haven’t even been on a real mission yet, you know? Clint will never let me live that one down. Getting so fucked up on recon. Who does that?”

Kate paused and waited for your answer. She counted three beeps, before shaking her head and letting out a little laugh. It should have been her in the van, though, the thought of you at her vantage point on the horizon was unheard of.

“You know what, forget the mission, y/n. You know what we really need to do? We need to get you to the beach. God, I’m telling you, it’s just as beautiful as you imagine it to be. My parents have that house on the coast. It’s right on the water, and you can smell the salt from miles away. I’m telling you… miles.”

She let out a small sob, squeezed your hand tightly and kissed your fingers before pressing her forehead against them. She wished they were warmer, she wished you were warm.

“And the sand… people don’t really like sand because it get’s everywhere, and I mean everywhere, but y/n/n, the sun warms it all day and then at night, at night when you can’t see past the darkness of the waves and it’s not as crowded with people and kids, and dogs, you can still hold onto that one bit of morning.

“I had my first kiss there, down by the docks. I remember it so clearly. It was awful. I’m talking open-mouthed, slobbery, and just much too long even though it only lasted seconds.”

Kate chuckled at the memory, shook her head. She looked at you, at your delicate features and the small scars that littered your skin. They weren’t all from today, and she ached for you to explain each and every faded mark while her fingers traced them.

“I remember thinking, this is it? I’ve waited my whole life for this? I was only fifteen, and my life wasn’t all that long of a wait yet, but the older I get, the more I realize that that first kiss isn’t anything special. Sure, we were on the beach, and the sky was this cotton-candy type of pink. It was supposed to be perfect. But it wasn’t, because I wasn’t with the right person.”

She swallowed hard, her mouth was suddenly dry. She wished she had more time. She wished that she could spend another day with you, struggling over road-maps with a red twist of licorice hanging out of the side of your mouth. Kate craved a day where the sun was too strong, and the lemonade just the right amount of sour. She wanted to see the look on your face when you realized how vast the ocean is.

“When you get better, I’ll take you out there. I’ll take you to the beach and we’ll sit on the docks and we’ll watch the sunset. Every single night, we’ll watch the sunset, okay? But we can’t do that if you don’t pull through. If you don’t fight, I’ll never know… we’ll never know if that perfect moment exists.”

Kate cried until she drifted off to sleep, half-draped across your body in the most conscious of ways as if not to disturb you. She stirred once when the nurse came in and checked your fluids. Then twice the next morning when Natasha was there to coax her into drinking some water from a cheap Styrofoam cup.

Nothing had changed in two days, and Kate still remained rooted in her spot, shifting around the room. Clint brought her a change of clothes, and she made him turn around when she stripped and pulled on one of his t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants that were much too big.

Kate protested that she was getting enough sleep, and she would pick at the meals that they brought in for her. She refused to leave your side, sometimes pacing the length of the room in her socks as she told you all about the summer she turned sixteen and her adventures in their vacation home.

Most of the time, she would watch the slow rise and fall of your chest. She had grown accustomed to the rhythm of it. She wouldn’t take her eyes off you, looking for the faintest sign of movement. Something to let her know that you were still there.

A month in, and she was brought a cot, but still squeezed into the small sliver next to you. She watched the lights on the ceiling. Kate told you about all the places she wanted to take you; the small gas station that sold the best fried fish (trust her, it’s safe), and the fair that would occupy the last fifty yards of the pier for two weeks in July.

Two months in, and Natasha finally dared to go past the small opening of the room. She had watched from the window, and Kate hadn’t noticed. She and Clint would stand and talk for hours, taking in Kate’s heartbreak as she read from Earnest Hemmingway’s “The Old Man from the Sea” over and over again.

Natasha had shyly produced a copy of “The Sun Also Rises” before lowering herself into the uncomfortable chair in the room. Kate watched her warily, thanked her for the book. She held her breath until it burned.

“I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Natasha’s voice was quiet, barely heard over the roar of the machines “Katie,”

“No.”

“As your handler it’s my responsibility-“

“I said no!” Kate was standing now, her voice loud. She would never dare yell at Natasha. She’d never dream of it. For the first three months of their professional partnership, she struggled to even look the woman in the eye. Natasha didn’t flinch, she didn’t say anything. “I’m not giving up on her.”

“We have to prepare for the possibility that she’s not going to wake up.”

“She’s fighting, breathing on her own now, and I’m not going to let you come in here and tell me that she’s not going to come back. You’re the last person I would expect to come in here and tell me to give up. Tell her to give up!” Kate’s voice was losing steam “If this is about resources I can-“

“It’s not about resources, Kate. It’s about you. We’ve been watching you torture yourself for months now and there’s been no sign of brain activity.”

“Will you stop being so clinical about this? This is y/n.” Kate begged, her words finally broke, shattered into a million pieces. “y/n is in there, I know it. She has to be. She has to be because if she’s not, if she’s… fuck!”

Kate was frustrated and exhausted. Her knees buckled and Natasha, with her spy-like reflexes, had her wrapped in her arms in moments. She let Kate cry, both of them uncomfortably on the floor, the tile cool. Natasha soothed her, tucked Kate’s nose against her neck. There was the slightest bit of pine.

“This is all my fault,” Kate murmured when she calmed “it’s all my fault.”

It had been a week after her conversation with Natasha and Kate was still headstrong in her efforts, though the woman’s words never truly left her. She was a good way through ‘The Sun Also Rises’, nodding off between paragraphs.

Kate’s feet were on the bed, the chair expertly balanced on it’s hind legs with the accuracy of an archer. She felt herself tilting back. Truth was, Kate was tired. Not in the physical sense, though her body hurt.

Despite what Natahsa, and Clint, and probably Yelena thought, Kate would be by your side until the end of time. She’d have to forge books about the ocean that had more plot, but refused to pick up a copy of Moby Dick.

Instead, she let out a sigh and closed the book over her fingers, squeezing the bridge of her nose. She thought of the beach, of her first kiss with Mickey Voit. More than anything, she thought of how nice it would be to feel your lips against hers, to see the bright look of life in your eyes.

Kate figured she had drifted off to an uncomfortable form of half-sleep when she heard it.

“You’re not going to keep reading?”

The voice was raspy, barely above a murmur. The words were unpracticed, but they meant everything all the same. Kate nearly tumbled from her chair; the book certainly flew to the ground as all four legs returned to stability.

She must be asleep, dreaming, or dead. Your stare bore into hers, red-rimmed but there all the same. And you were smiling, God, you were actually smiling after all of this time. It was a sight she thought she would never see again.

“Come on, you were getting to the part about never falling in love.”

“Always,” Kate gripped the armrests of the seat, afraid to let go. Fearful that if she did, she’d wake up and all of this would be over. You would be gone. “I am always in love.”

You blew air from your nose and started coughing, a brittle sound that made Kate stir from her position entirely. Damned if this was a dream, you needed a doctor. She’d will herself to sleep if it meant seeing you again.

Kate called for Cho frantically and stepped back when she rushed into the room, followed by two nurses and an intern that she had come to know based on her pitying glances. Kate really wanted to punch her in the face, most times, but was never happier to see her in this moment.

“Good god,” Doctor Cho quickly went to your side.

She dazedly took your vitals, having you squeeze her finger, something you did with some struggle, weakened from your months out of commission. She pressed the tip of her pen to the balls of your feet, checking your mobility, your lucidity as she guided a straw to your lips and you took a tentative sip.

Kate stood out of the way, her fingers pressed to her lips and her eyes watching every single movement carefully. She relished in your voice, however small it was, as she answered questions.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Agent Y/L/N.” Doctor Cho squeezed your shoulder “I’m going to alert the necessary parties and give you two some alone time… this one never left your side.”

There was a call button if you needed her, and the weight of uncertainty seemed to exit the room. The two of you were alone, as you had been for the last three months. Kate hated how pale you looked; how fragile you were. She wanted to pull you close and squeeze you as if there weren’t 78 stitches across your front.

“It’s so weird,” You lilted your head to the side “I had the strangest dream about the beach. I could see it so clearly, even though I’ve never been there.”

Kate hummed, suddenly timid “That is weird, maybe it was Tahiti?”

“Maybe” You chuckled and then winced “Ouch,”

The archer was at your side in less than a second. Out of habit, she had your hand in hers, quickly forgetting that she hadn’t ever done this before the accident. She still struggled to make the right about of eye contact with you so she wouldn’t’ come off as weird.

Kate groaned “This was easier when you were unconscious,”

“Okay? Ouch again?”

“Not… like that. God, I’m sleep deprived, and totally screwing this up. You would think that three months is enough time to work out a way to talk to a beautiful woman without sticking my fist in my mouth.”

She moved to pull her hand away, but you held onto it with strength to let her know that you never wanted to let her go. She looked down at your grasp, and then back up at you with the beginning of tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t tell you the best part about being at the beach. It was beautiful, really, so vivid and calm. The funny thing is, I was always at the end of this dock and the sky was always this pink color.” You frowned, a small crease between your eyebrows “I could hear you all around me, just pulling me to the end of that dock.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, but you were never there, and quite frankly, Katie, I was getting sick of waiting. So, one day I just jumped into the water, and it was startling, cold, but it woke me up… literally, I suppose. My point… I don’t think I would have jumped if I wasn’t trying to get back to you.”

Kate gently closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips so tenderly against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up, but when it did, your warm fingers found their way to her jaw, running along the expanse of her skin, breathing her in. She oddly smelled of sand and salt-water.

You whimpered into the kiss when she grazed an aching spot on your ribs and she was quick to pull back, a look of worry on her face “Sorry, oh god, sorry”

“It’s okay, just a little sore” You beamed at her, forehead pressed close to hers. “Was that better than your kiss with Mickey?”

Kate groaned, her nose cold against your cheek as she murmured “You heard that, huh?”

You had heard everything.

#kate Bishop #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x you #Hawkeye #hawkeye fanfiction #request #Angst #Fluff #Angst with a happy ending #Marvel #Hurt comfort #natasha romanoff #yelena boleva #clint barton

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shadowgale96 · 11 months

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So, are we gonna talk about the fact that some of Conner's coin tricks aren't actual coin tricks? As in, they are basically impossible for humans to do. Which tells me that Conner taught himself how to do coin tricks (likely as a test for re-calibrating his movements, assessing his reaction time and accuracy, etc) but it was too easy, so he literally created his own tricks to challenge himself.

He didn't have to do that. he could have just executed pre-constructed, existing tricks. If he's just testing his reaction time or re-calibrating himself, then that should work fine, but he went out of his way to create his own tricks. To challenge himself? To amuse himself?

Either way, I think this is a good way of showing that even if you play as a machine Connor, there's still a ghost in his machine.

#rk800 #dbh connor #rk800 connor #connor rk800 #dbh #detroit become human #my post

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shitpostingperidot · 4 months

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How old is Carol Danvers???

(Inspired by a post by @blindluck which was in turn inspired by a post by me and @marvelsassbutts )

So I just found out the official Captain Marvel wiki places Carol Danvers’s birth date in 1965. At first I thought “that’s ridiculous” for reasons that will become clear through this long ass post. But then I saw they cited drawings by the assistant art director on Captain Marvel, found on her portfolio! That’s pretty official!

Wait what’s that at the bottom…

1984???? For Carol’s USAFA basic training???? This is impossible, the movie is wrong, and here’s why.

(Excerpt from my future video essay incoming)

There are no dates in Higher, Further, Faster; the marketing text on Amazon, Liza Palmer’s website, etc just says “80s.” So, we need to do some detective work.

We know that the 2019 film Captain Marvel takes place in 1995. Since it takes place in Southern California and Louisiana, the warm weather doesn’t tell us much about the time of year. Personally, I believe it takes place on March 8, 1995, because that’s the exact day I was born, and my birthday is the day the movie was released on to coincide with International Women’s Day. Regardless, Monica Rambeau is eleven years old in the film, putting her birth in 1983 or 1984. So, Maria’s pregnancy must have begun in 1982 or 1983.

Here’s a “fun” fact about US military academies: until less than one year ago (summer 2023, a full three years after Captain Marvel came out), cadets at USAFA who became pregnant were required to either drop out, have an abortion, or relinquish their parental rights to their child.

Dropping out also means reimbursing the government for your tuition for all classes you’ve taken up to this point, and giving up your ability to be commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Air Force upon graduation. Definitely not an option someone as driven as Maria wants to consider. In fact, we know this isn’t what happened, because this news article Carol hung up in her spaceship in The Marvels says that Maria Rambeau is a USAFA graduate.

We also know that Maria didn’t have an abortion, because, well, Monica Rambeau herself is tangible evidence. Theoretically, it is possible for Maria to have given up parental rights and adopted back her own child after graduation. Before the policy change in 2023 that allowed cadets to be parents, many found this to be their best option (see the article I screenshotted above). However, this process is really expensive and takes a lot of work with a lawyer over a period of months or years. From the little we know of Carol and Maria’s life pre-crash, (it was busy, they lived in an expensive area, and Maria only had Carol for support), I think we can assume that it’s less likely that Maria was forced to adopt her own daughter than that Maria graduated USAFA before becoming pregnant in 1982 or 83.

That still doesn’t answer the question of when this book takes place, though. The exact year is important, as the military had some major differences under the Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, and Ronald Reagan administrations of the 70s and 80s, and one of the things I want to assess this book on is accuracy.

Oh wait, what’s that? Another discriminatory policy that helps us date this book? That’s right, USAFA didn’t enroll women as cadets until Public Law 94-106 went into effect in 1976.

What’s more, Carol and Maria cannot have been part of this first group of women cadets, because in the book, there is an upperclassman character who is a woman. Officer Cadet Chen is one of the leaders of Basic Training for Carol and Maria’s flight, a position cadets aren’t allowed to hold until their third or fourth year at the Academy.

So, Carol and Maria must enter USAFA no earlier than 1978 to be two or more years younger than Chen, and must graduate no later than 1983 for Monica to exist. To comply with the marketing blurb’s declaration that this book takes place “in the 80s”, let’s say that Carol and Maria’s first year is the 1979-1980 school year.

(End excerpt)

In conclusion, Maria and Carol were born in 1960 or 1961 (with pretty equal likelihood of which birthday makes them 18 at the start of the book, since USAFA basic happens the summer before the school year), not 1965. It would be impossible for them to have done basic training in 1984 as in the production drawing, because they would have to have already graduated and be well on their way to test pilot school which is a whole other policy can of worms before Monica’s birth in 1983 or 1984.

In conclusion conclusion, Carol is ~34 in Captain Marvel and ~64 in The Marvels, and the MCU should hire fans to fact check for them.

#thank u blindluck for bringing my attention to this wiki I had such a fun time on this rabbit hole #the marvels #captain marvel #carol danvers #maria rambeau #higher further faster book #carolmaria #danbeau #monica rambeau

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