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xk23587 · 10 months
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adroit--2022 · 1 year
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gmiresearch · 2 years
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GMI Research projects that the Deep Packet Inspection and Processing Market will witness healthy growth over the forecast period.
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stevenssacrab · 5 months
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Collision
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚✧ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚*
Summary: On a routine bike ride through your local park, you meet a beautiful stranger in unique way.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of blood, and wound care, descriptions of a bike accident
Word Count: 1.0k
a/n: Just a lil short and sweet one, with the ever beautiful Natasha :D
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚✧ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚*
The cool autumn air gently nips at your skin, your cheeks round and rosy pink; you always loved a good evening bike ride around your local park; you first started it as a way to get the daily exercise, but you've grown to love the repetitive motion of pushing the petals, and the wind blowing past your face. Today was particularly beautiful; the sun was setting, a ray of crimson and amber painting the sky.
You like to use this time to unwind and think of nothing substantial, no deadlines, upcoming events, or obligations; be in the moment. As you round your 2nd lap around the park, you’re stuck on whether you should do another lap, while deep in thought, you don’t even see the person riding straight for you at an ungodly speed.
“Hey! Watch out!” A bystander yells, but it is already too late; time slows each second longer than the last as you come speeding toward this woman on her bike; there is no avoiding it; it is already happening. You collided with a painful crack, sending you flying over, landing hard on your shoulder, and tumbling forward.
When you open your eyes, you're greeted by a gorgeous woman, her face etched with worry. Her mouth is moving, but you can't hear anything she's saying. You're lost in her eyes, a beautiful mix of blueish green with flicks of amber; she slowly waves her hand in front of your face, snapping back into reality.
"Hello? Are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't see you until it was too late." she said, her eyes scanning you for injuries, her face dropping when she saw blood coming from your forehead. "Oh my god, I have a first aid kit in my car; I'll be right back," she said quickly; you watched her run away and disappear momentarily behind the trees; you were inspecting the damage when you heard footsteps running toward you. Your eyes scan over her physique; you definitely overlooked that before.
"Okay, let me take a look," she said smoothly, setting the kit down next to you; she cracked open a water bottle and grabbed your hand; she softly put the water bottle into your hand.
"Here, take this," she says while grabbing a packet of ibuprofen; handing you the tablet, she patiently waits for you to do as instructed; you stare at her, mouth agape, "please," she says, gently motioning at the medication, you obey and swallow the pill, you're staring at her, thoroughly aware that you still haven't spoken a word.
"Th-thank you," you say meekly; you look at the palms of your hands.
"You're welcome," she chirps happily, "Let me take a look," she says, cracking open another water bottle; she pours it onto a towel and gently pats your forehead clean.
"So, what's your name?" she asks, focused on your wound.
"Y/N," you say gingerly, using the opportunity to take in every detail of her face, noticing the 2 moles on her cheek.
"You know it's rude to stare?" she quips, never breaking her focus.
"I-I'm not staring; you're just, in front of me is all." you defended
"Uh-huh, sure," she says cockily, flicking her eyes down to meet yours, you try to hold contact, but when she looks at you, you feel as if she's staring right into your soul.
"So, what do you do?" she asks, trying to fill the silence.
"I'm a firefighter," you say proudly.
"Oh, well, that's unexpected," she says, searching for the Neosporin, "how is a firefighter so clumsy?" she teases, her lips coming to a smirk.
"Clumsy? I'm pretty sure you ran into me," you laugh back.
"Why don't you let me make it up to you over coffee?" she says slyly, her eyes snapping to your lips and then back to your eyes.
"Hmm, I suppose," you tease back as you grab the Neosporin from the kit, handing it to her; she generously applies it, eyes watching your face for any hints of pain.
"Do you live around the area?" she asks, firming her hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah, like a 5-minute bike ride from here," you say; you're usually not this open with your personal information, but something about her, you know she's one of the good ones; she grabs a large bandaid and cautiously covers the wound.
"There you go, all better." She leaned back and started putting all the supplies away.
"Oh, let me help you," you say, suddenly moving to help, you knock over the entire box.
"I'm sorry, let me help you," you say; you kneel down and frantically clean up the mess.
"Y/N, relax," she says calmly; she kneels down and helps you clean up.
"Not clumsy, huh?" she says coyly, lifting her brow slightly.
"I'm not. I'm just nervous," you laugh, nervously staring at the ground.
"Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" she questions, slowly closing the space between you, inching closer like an apex predator. You don't know what else to do; you are reduced to a stuttering mess, slowly getting pushed into a nearby tree.
"I-No, I just-" you stutter out; you bump into the tree, suddenly aware of how close she is; you stare at her, eyes as wide as saucers.
"Shhh, it's alright, Y/N," she shushes, gently grabbing your hand; you jump at the sudden contact but instantly melt into her touch.
"Let's get you home, yeah?" she asks sweetly.
"Okay," you say simply, leading her out of the park.
"I'm Natasha, by the way," she says, bringing attention to the fact that you hadn't even asked what her name was; you smack your palm to your forehead, shame engulfing you; how did you forget to ask for her name?
"I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask your name, ugh," you sighed heavily, hitting your face with your hands.
"It's okay," she laughs, breaking any tension you had left in you. "I mean, I did crash into you, and you did land pretty hard," she says gently, thumbing over your knuckles.
"Thank you for taking care of me," you say shyly, avoiding eye contact, "Well, this is me," you say; you let go of her hand and reach for your keys; you do it slowly; you don't want this to end.
"I'll see you this weekend, right, for that coffee?" she asks, patiently awaiting your answer.
"Yes, definitely."
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jinwoosungs · 17 days
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{ 139 }
a little unwell.
megumi fushiguro x fem.reader
“oh, it is just so terrible! you should have seen how much pain megumi was in!”
when gojo told you how your boyfriend had suffered some minor injuries due to developing a sudden fever while in the midst of a mission-
your heart already went into overdrive, as your mind kept playing all these tricks on you.
megumi probably lost his arm-
or lost his legs-
maybe he lost both of his arms and legs?!
your anxiety always spiked up into unreal levels of insanity anytime your loved ones got hurt, and you were vaguely aware of gojo’s explanation of your boyfriend’s situation before turning away from him. it was as though the teacher’s explanation was drowned out due to the blood that was felt rushing to your ears, pushing your body forward as you walked away from him.
it seemed as though you were running on autopilot, with your stiff legs taking you back to your room as you collected some necessities.
first and foremost, the neat first aid kit your mother had given you for your first day at tokyo jujutsu high was securely in your grasps as you grabbed other items to help with caring for megumi.
some of your favorite snacks,
an ice cold bottle of water,
and an extra blanket, just in case his fevered chills became too much to bear as his own paper thin blanket wasn’t sufficient enough in providing the comfort that you knew he needed.
your heart was still pounding within the confines of your chest, your veins filled with dread as you continued walking around the hallways of the dorm. finally, when his door was in front of you, you expected the worst the moment you opened the door and saw megumi.
so when you gently knock at the door before opening it, you could feel your breathing escape from your lungs like a deflated balloon.
so not only did gojo over-exaggerate the extent of megumi’s wounds (like he always does, just to tell a good story), but megumi appeared in perfect condition-
with both limbs attached.
you take a moment to admire him, simply leaning against the doorway as you trailed your eyes over his sleeping figure. his messy locks of hair remain mussed against the plush pillows, and his deep, sapphire eyes were kept hidden beneath trembling eyelids. his arms were kept almost stiffly by his sides while his legs were covered beneath his blanket. the only proof of an injury that you saw was a simple bandaid that was placed across his cheek.
with careful movements, you gently shut the door behind you and crept closer to him. despite the fact that you had tiptoed across the floors, you knew that your presence could be sensed by megumi as he opens up an eye to look at you.
“hey…” his voice was hoarse when he calls out your name, and upon closer inspection of his face, you could see how flushed his pale skin had become. you look over to his nightstand and see a full cup of lukewarm water along with an unopened packet of medicine tablets that were meant to help with his fever.
“hm… meg, why didn’t you take your pills yet?”
a soft grunt was heard coming from his chapped lips.
“can’t swallow that well yet… my throat burns.” megumi admits to you with a groan, which made your heart swell with love and empathy for him.
“would you like my help?”
you listen as your boyfriend lets out a series of coughs before looking at you. “what do you mean… by that?”
you flash him a cheshire grin before taking a hold of his tablets. ripping off a single dose, you open it before placing both tablets in your mouth. trying not to acknowledge the bitterness of the medicine, you proceed to open the bottle of water before taking a swig of it. megumi wasn’t given a chance to react when you suddenly hold his chin still, pressing your lips against his before transferring the medicine to him.
your hand against his throat was soothing and gentle, giving the base of it a series of gentle massages to ensure that megumi safely swallowed his medicine. when he pulls away from you first, you couldn’t help but smile down at him, basking in his reddened cheeks.
“see? that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
“s-shut up!” he was still too shy to face you, making you giggle even more before leaning closer to him, pressing your lips against his cheek in a sweet kiss.
you end up giving the rest of the cold bottled water to him, allowing the liquid to ease the soreness of his throat. because of how deeply you loved him, you even gave him the rest of your soft served strawberry ice cream as well!
after you spoil him a bit with your snacks, megumi ends up wrapping his arms around your back suddenly, making you nearly fall to the ground had it not been for his tight grip on you.
“what… megumi?!”
a light sheen of sweat was seen on his features, and he was breathing heavily when he uses the rest of his strength to pull you even closer to him. he was panting, yet still, his arms around you remained tight, as if he never wanted to let you go.
“just… stay here… with me, okay…?”
even when he was feeling sick, megumi still manages to press a gentle kiss against your hair, the gentle touch of affection still being proof of his love for you when words never could come easy for him.
“okay…” was your simple reply, allowing your beloved boyfriend to press your form against his heated body. now comforted by your presence, he finally closes his eyes, his body seeming to curl around you as the sounds of his breathing were all that were heard from within the dorm.
you take a moment to run your hands across his damp brow, slowly massaging the frown out of his sleeping face as his expression finally turns into a more peaceful one. letting out one last giggle, you sigh and fall back into his embrace, finally falling asleep as you allowed megumi to seek comfort from your presence alone.
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a.n. - lol, i finally took a break from my jinwoo haze to write about the best jjk boi in the entire world, so please enjoy this short drabble… megumi needs to rest,,,, he’s been through far too much 😭😭😭😭😭
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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coalswriting · 10 months
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if i could give you the moon - natalie scatorccio
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summary – y/n and nat go for a late night swim (approx 2.1k words)
partially based on ‘moon song’ by phoebe bridgers
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when the principal had called you out of your biology class to ask you to join the yellowjackets on their trip to nationals, you had immediately said yes. you were the lead photographer of the school paper, well praised for your incredible action shots and ability to frame a subject in a photograph.
you didn’t really know much about most of the yellowjackets other than photographing their games for articles; vanessa palmer was your partner in chemistry and the two of you, with your combined iq of approximately three, oftentimes messed around, doodling on each other’s notes and talking about movies on occasion. you did not really consider her a friend, more than you considered her a friendly acquaintance, since the moment the bell would ring for lunch, she would be out of the classroom in a flash, excited to meet her friends.
the day before nationals, van and her ‘friend’, taissa (you could see the chemistry practically wafting off them), invited you to a house party that night. “y’know, to really meet the team. i’ll introduce you!”, van suggested, trying to convince you to attend. you nodded your head quietly, already thinking of what outfit to wear.
“great,” taissa smiled, “i’ll pick you up at eight, what’s your address?”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
it was four minutes past eight when you heard a loud honk outside your house. peering through your window, you watched as van waved at you, tai rolling down the window to yell a curt “hurry up!”. with a final glance at the large mirror by your door, you fixed your outfit, grabbing your bag, and running down the stairs to meet the duo. the drive to the party wasn’t a long one, but the conversation felt like it lasted forever. you spoke about everything with the two other women; photography, soccer, nationals, your favourite foods, movies, and so on. however, the moment you arrived at the party, the two seemed to disappear, so you decided to pour yourself a drink and go into the garden, where most people seemed to be.
you ambled towards the big fire pit with a little bit of shyness, inspecting the people around you. most attendees were in small separated groups, chatting away about anything and everything. all except for her.
natalie scatorccio.
she was leaning against a tree, opening a fresh packet of cigarettes, a purple lighter grasped lightly between her teeth. you watched as she tapped the bottom of the pack, then pulled out a cigarette, flipped it upside down, and slid it back in.
without thinking, your legs began to move, and before you knew it, you were next to the girl. she looked up to you staring at her, and a few seconds passed before she started to talk, “what? you want one?”
coming back to your senses, you shook your head no, looking down towards her cigarettes, “why did you flip one cigarette upside down?”  
natalie looked at you, one eyebrow raised, as she processed what you said. suddenly she cracked a toothy smile, making your heart flutter a little. “that’s my lucky cigarette. i tapped the bottom of the box to see which one would raise, and that one did, so i flipped it. it’s the last one i’m going to smoke, during a happy moment in my life.”
“oh, i see,” you nodded, “that’s really sweet.”
she popped the tip of a cigarette in her mouth, lighting it. taking a deep inhale, she held her breath for a second, allowing herself to feel the burn of nicotine and smoke in her lungs. then, she turned her head away from you and exhaled. “are you the photographer that’s going with us tomorrow? i’m nat.”
“i’m (y/n),” you state, giving her anticipating knuckles a tap with your own, “i’m a bit nervous to go. i don’t really know anybody on the team other than van and she’s...”, you turned your head around, indicating that you had no clue where van went.  
natalie chuckled, brushing her shaggy bangs out of her eyes, “that’s cool. you can stay with me. i don’t have anyone to bunk with in the hotel, so as long as you don’t snore…” she said, insinuatingly. you elbowed her jokingly, laughing, but before you could reply, you heard an argument break out.
you and natalie both peered over, watching tai and another teammate yell at each other, van trying (and failing) to keep the peace. “for fuck’s sake,” she growled, pushing herself off the tree, “sorry (y/n), we gotta cut this conversation short. i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“yeah…” you replied, watching her walk over to join the argument. she was cute, and not as intimidating as she seemed, you decided. you could definitely see yourself being friends with her, even though you two were probably worlds apart in terms of personality, style, and interests.
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the plane for nationals had left as scheduled, with no initial issues. it was about an hour into your nap when the turbulence had started. you had woken up to the sound of panicked screams, and before you knew it, the plane had gone down, killing a few members of the yellowjackets, the pilots, and the coach. somehow, you had survived, mostly unscathed, with just a few bruised ribs and a deep slit just above your right eyebrow.
you were definitely the weakest link out of the survivors; you were sensitive to gore, (throwing up when coach ben’s leg was cut off), not as athletic as the others, and other than the bare essentials, you had only packed your polaroid and film camera with you for the journey.
despite this, natalie stuck by your side the whole time. it seemed like she had an almost unspoken pact to protect you no matter what, insisting on washing your wounds and sleeping next to you every night. “you can’t trust these girls,” she had said to you once, when you two went hunting together (more like you accompanying her while she hunted), “i swear one of these days they’re gonna eat someone.”
a few months had passed at this point, as the weather grew warmer. the lot of you had fallen into a routine, everyone doing their allocated tasks. you mostly rotated between joining natalie in the hunt, gathering water, and keeping count of essential supplies. your relationship with nat had grown closer, with her eventually telling you about her home life. you practically knew her inside out. she would smoke on particularly more stressful days, always ate her food in a certain order, and always, slept facing you. with this close friendship came budding feelings, as your crush on her developed. you often had dreams about her, felt irritated when you were not with her, and sometimes, even, you would offer her some of your food, and sneak it onto her plate when she wasn’t looking.
van and tai had noticed too, oftentimes smirking at you knowingly and teasing you when the three of you were alone.
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it was a particularly hot night when you were awoken by a foot nudging against your own. you opened your dreary eyes, noticing natalie staring back at you. “c’mon,” she whispered, sitting up. confused, you followed suit, and before you knew it, the both of you were outside, only illuminated by the moon.
“where are we going?”, you asked simply, stifling a yawn.
“swimming”, nat replied, holding your hand in hers and pulling you along. you both fell into a comfortable silence with you yawning every now and then. this silence was normal between you. you both could say so much without having to speak. lingering touches and endearing looks were often shared, and that, at times, was all that the two of you needed. just each other’s presence.
the moon reflected off the lake, giving you both a beautiful view as you began to take off your shirts. once you were both in your underwear, you ran towards the calm water, laughing and yelping at how cool the water felt against your skin.
nat splashed you, eliciting a scream from you, while you dived under the water to grab her waist. after about ten minutes of roughhousing and messing around, the two of you stood in waist length water, shoulder against shoulder, watching the moon. nat turned to face you, giving you the most loving smile you could ever imagine. the moonlight reflected off her hair, making it look as if it was glowing, complimenting her hazel eyes. you felt yourself melt. you were so safe with nat. she was so perfect.
“if i could give you anything right now,” she started, “it would be my last cigarette.”
“your lucky cigarette?!”, you gasped with mock shock, “you’ve been saving that for ages!”
“yeah, (y/n), i’ve been saving it for a happy moment; like the one i’m having with you right now.” she stopped talking for a moment, seeming to think, “i was really weary the whole time we’ve been here. it’s so dangerous and anything could happen. despite it all, being here – with you – it’s been great. like, despite all the bad things that have happened, i’ve felt so incredibly happy with you.” you felt heat grow in the back of your neck as she struggled to articulate her thoughts.
“the moon,” you said, cutting her off. she looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “if i could give you anything right now, i would give you the moon.” pointing up at the full moon, the both of you stopped talking for a moment to watch it.
it felt like a few minutes had passed before natalie looked back at you. her cheeks had visibly reddened, taking on a rosy shade. she took a step towards you, putting an arm loosely around your waist, the other rested on the side of your neck. her eyes darted down, lingering on your lips, before she pulled you in. her lips were warm and soft, and she kissed you with a gentle love that you had never felt before. you reluctantly kissed back, feeling yourself become one with her. it didn’t last long, but soon after, she wordlessly took your hand in hers, walking out of the water, towards the shore.
you shivered, partially from the cold, and partially from the possibility of her thinking that she made a mistake. she hadn’t said anything to you so surely, she regretted the kiss. suddenly, you were taken out of your thoughts by the feeling of nat’s letterman jacket being draped over your shoulders. she reached her hand into the pocket, retrieving her box of cigarettes and the purple lighter she had lit her first one with all those months ago. she popped the cigarette between her lips, lighting it quickly, then took a drag. still without saying anything, she handed it to you, letting you take a puff. you coughed, not used to the burn in your lungs, and she chuckled. “this was the perfect time to use my lucky cigarette. i was saving it - to smoke it with you.”
you blinked at her as she continued to talk, “i love you, (y/n). i think i’ve loved you since the day we first hunted together. you always make me so fucking happy, (y/n). i’m so in love with you.”
“shit…”, you mumbled to yourself, awestruck, “that’s a crazy coincidence, nat, because i think i’m in love with you too.”
she smiled wider than you had ever seen her smile before, and gave you another kiss. she tasted like tobacco, which you surprisingly didn’t mind. your heart erupted into a happy flutter of butterflies. you were ecstatic. after finishing the cigarette, the both of you felt dry enough to put your clothes back on and returned to the cabin, hand in hand.
once you were back in your sleeping area, she looped her arms around you, holding you tightly, as if you were like water in her hands - like she never wanted to let go of you and lose you.
the following morning, you were awoken by a flash and a clicking noise. tai and van had taken it upon themselves to take a photo of you and nat cuddling with the use of your polaroid camera. snickering, the two of them ran away from you and nat as you angrily chased them.
the two of you would never feel unsafe in this vast wilderness again, as you had each-other’s backs no matter what.
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ceruleancattail · 8 months
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CONGRATULATIONS ON TE MILESTONE 🎉🎉
Your writting is so pretty and flowery! I loved it! I hope your blog brings happiness and comfort to you 💗
If it's fine with you, can I request Jamil with gender-neutral reader that is always there to take care of him? It's rainy outside, dark and maybe Jamil is tired, or got hurt. Honestly I'll just take what you think would suit the caretaking better! I love your writting anyway
Thank you
Dreamy Day Event
Jamil x reader
A tongue coated in silver, polished into a fine blade. His words have always been his weapon. Carefully phrased sentences, voice as smooth as the most luxurious silk.
They wrap around you, entangling you with every letter formed by his lips.
Jamil Viper has spun tale after tale, each grander then the last, twisting words to suit his purposes. He plays with people like puppets, making them dance to his tune.
His voice, a deep seductive melody that flowed into one’s very soul. Going down as easy as rich wine, delighting the senses.
You’ve gotten used to that charming voice.
Which was why it was jarring to hear Jamil in pain. Not a yelp, nor a scream. A hiss, as sharp as burning coals thrown onto fire. A razor sharp sound, cutting deep into your eardrum.
The clatter of utensils. A knife falls, landing with a thud on the counter. Clutching at his wrist, Jamil regards his wound with a certain annoyance. A cut on his fingers, crimson blood peeking through the damaged skin. They formed scarlet beads on his finger, almost shyly.
Rushing over, your fingers brushed against his. Holding up his hand for further inspection, dabbing a piece of tissue onto the wound. Guiding his thumb over the sheet, you instruct him to press down.
Jamil only sighs, somewhat exasperated.
“You do know that this isn’t my first accident in the kitchen.”
Raising an eyebrow, you stare at him pointedly. He shrugs in response, shoulders flowing in a fluid motion. Raising his hands in surrender, Jamil gestures vaguely to a shelf.
“The bandages are there.”
“Thank you very much.” Was the curt reply. Huffing, you fling the shelf open. Fumbling with its contents, you finally yank out a box of plasters.
Jamil was by the sink, allowing the water to pour onto his wound. Cleaning it to the best of his abilities. Despite his nonchalant attitude, Jamil still found himself wincing as the running water grazed his skin. It stung, a thousand wasps converging into that single spot on his palm.
A sudden warmth pressed against the small of his back. Your palm, patting him softly. Rubbing slow, gentle circles into his back. Unconsciously, Jamil finds himself leaning into your touch. It was oddly comforting, truly.
Clicking your tongue, you gesture at his hand. Jamil obliged with a laugh, resting his hand on yours. Deft fingers ripped open the packet, yanking the plaster free. Slowly, you stuck it onto his finger, making sure every inch of the wound was covered. Curling the sticky ends around his finger, you tapped on it lightly, sealing the plaster shut.
The plaster was securely wrapped around his finger, almost like a ring of sorts. Cheeks growing a little too warm for comfort, you glance up at Jamil. A light pink was dusted over his cheeks, along with an expression you’ve never seen him make before.
His features were softer, tender, even.
Almost as if he was looking at something he loved…
Upon noticing your stare, Jamil’s hands dart upwards. They seize his hood, yanking it over his head. Effectively shielding his face from view.
He hastens his pace, resuming his kitchen duties. The chopping was loud, hasty strokes of the knife against the wooden board. Quite similar to the beat of a flustered heart, thumping wildly within someone’s chest.
Yet, no matter how deafening his chopping was, it didn’t quite muffled the sounds of a meek: “Thank you.”
Your lips twitched, slipping upwards ever so slightly.
Jamil really had a wonderful voice.
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cryingaboutit1514 · 2 months
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oliver evans railing us because of a bad grade.
Authors Note: Sorry this took so long! Hope u enjoy!
Summary: Oliver Evans railing you because of a bad grade!
Contains: dom! Oliver evans x sub! Reader, degrading, filthy smut drabble, f! reader, probably ooc bc I dont usually watch the man 😭 a bit rushed sorry pookie none of my works are proofread!
PROFESSOR OLIVER EVANS who had enough of your shenanigans, after repeatedly drilling numbers and words into your stupid brain, you decided to return his help with a failing grade.
He was grading your exam, incredulous of how many goddamn times he had to use his red pen to swipe an x on what seemed like every other question. The professor was flabbergasted, appalled, shocked, in awe.
How the fuck did you fail? You met him after school every day, sometimes even before class started, and went over questions you didn't understand. Oliver almost deemed you hopeless, if only you hadn't look at him with such pleading eyes, a slight pout to your lips as you cocked your head to the side, asking,
"Professor, don't give up on me now, pretty please? I promise to make you proud."
How could Oliver say no to such a pretty thing? Maybe you weren't a lost cause.
Now, you stand before him and he tosses the thick packet of an exam towards you. Oliver appears too calm, and it is starting to make you squirm underneath his scrutinizing gaze.
"Want to tell me how this happened?" Professor asks under his breath, the students filing out the room sending pitying looks your way.
You fidget with the buttons of your blouse as you figure out something to say. "I... well..."
"Look. At. Me." His demanding tone forces you to jerk your face back up at him. "When you talk to me."
"Yeah Prof-"
"Yes, Professor," Oliver corrects, rising to his feet and navigating himself around his desk. He stops a couple inches away from you and points to the exam. "I stayed after for hours, assisting you with any questions you had. You were understanding it, I saw. So how in the hell did you fail?"
You don't reply, just gazing up at him with some sort of emotion he couldn't quite catch floating in your eyes. The professor had to think for a moment. Why exactly did you not pass the test, even though you clearly understood the contents?
Oliver steps closer to you, taking your chin with his pointer and thumb. Your eyes visibly widen, and upon further inspection, your pupils dilated. Your breaths are shallow and barely feather his face.
"Did you... fail it purposely?" The professor questions.
You swallow. "What? I would never."
"You're lying," Oliver hisses, squeezing your chin and you wince slightly, but that didn't stop the blush spreading across your cheeks. "You failed something I prepared you for. Do you take me as an idiot?"
"Only sometimes," you mumble under your breath and it irks him.
"The audacity," Oliver breathes, releasing your chin but not stepping away. "For wasting my time, my valuable time, you're going to make it up to me."
"Wha-"
Oliver presses you against his desk, standing in between your legs as he bunches the skirt around your hips. The professor leans close to your ear, whispering dirty things that make the tips of your ears go red.
"Is this what you wanted? for me to punish you?" Oliver whispers, pressing himself into you, his hard erection brushing against your thigh.
"Professor, w-wait!" You stammer, pressing your hands against his chest while he kisses down your neck, leaving behind heat trailing down. "What if someone hears?"
"They won't," Oliver responds, ripping off your underwear with just a finger. "Flimsy thing. As for you, you'll be a good slut and stay quiet, mm?"
You shiver as the cool air hits your searing hot core and your legs close around his hips. Oliver traps your mouth with his, hunger in every deep kiss. You moan quietly, and then arch your back as his thumb traces circles on your clit. Oliver spreads your folds open with ease, one finger pumping in and out of your wet hole while the other circles the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Professor," you gasp against his lips, hands gripping the back of his dress shirt hard.
"Shut up," he growls, plunging another finger inside and causing you to cry out. "I said shut up. I thought you would at the very least have some smarts in you. You're just a dumb, horny bitch who's willing to throw her whole college life away, just to fuck her professor?"
You whine, the heat in your face rising as you hide your face in his neck, legs shaking. His fingers piston in and out with surprising speed, curling and prodding at all the right spots. You feel the tension in your stomach build up, your noises bubbling out of you but you try your hardest to hide it.
"Look how wet you are," Oliver cooes, pulling his fingers out to slap your cunt. You squeal, your hole clamping on nothing. "Take off your shirt."
You nod obediently, lifting your shirt up and over your head, discarding it to the side. You unclip your bra without another word, the professor's eyes watching with a dark lust.
You cross your arms, under your breasts so they're pushed up as you smile innocently. "Will this help my grade, Professor?"
"If you deserve it," Oliver says, voice low and husky, unbuckling his pants and letting them drop to the floor. His hands snatch your hips, slanting them to his cock. You yelp, falling back on your palms and the professor shoves himself inside you. A cry almost escapes your lips if he hadn't slapped a hand over your mouth.
"I said, keep your voice down," he snarls.
Tears brim your eyes at the stretch, nails digging into the wooden desk. Oliver groans quietly at the tightness, swearing in his native tongue quietly. You breathe rapidly through your nose, the harsh stretch slowly becoming pleasing as you roll your hips a bit.
The professor's other hand grips your thigh hard, dragging his cock in and out slowly through your fluttering walls. Slow and steady, your soft noises muffled.
Right before he rams hard into you. Your eyes roll back and a loud muffled moan. Like a beast unleashed, Oliver ruts inside you, panting and groaning. They're very low and quiet, compared to your high pitched whines.
"Fucking whore," the professor mutters, skin against skin resonating through the empty class room. Your slick coating his length and balls, it is so easy to just force his way through, brushing against your sweet spot. It made you stars in your vision, and it didn't take long until all you saw was white.
You release hard against cock, a shudder taking over your body. At the same time, Oliver cums inside you, ribbons of white covering your walls as he lets out a low guttural moan. The stickiness connecting you both as you gasp for breath after he removes his hand off your face.
"We're not done," Oliver breathes, pinching a tit and you whimper. "I told you I was going to punish you for wasting my time. I'm going to use you, the way you used me."
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ms-nesbit · 9 months
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Recover (jason todd x reader)
rating: 15+
warnings: swearing, violence, graphic depictions of injuries, sad jason todd
summary: reader and jason broke up, but jason regrets his decision after a near death experience. Tied to this fic
words: 1.5k
note: im gonna cry
So alone.
Jason undressed at the door, kicking the door behind him. His shoulders slouched - a habit he developed from his torture endured by Joker - yet they felt heavy, burdening more weight than usual.
No other thoughts occupied him: he was alone. Lonely. He knew this when he opened the fridge and the open space stared back at him in disgust, wrinkled ketchup packets scattered mindlessly; he knew this when he dragged his iron feet, tired from running from his fears, all the way to his bed, body crashing onto it.
He entered a one-way staring contest with the ceiling that morning, avoiding shutting his eyes from the vitriol he would meet once he had.
He turned on his phone, ignoring the mental notes he slapped earlier. Scrolling through social media to find any trace of her at all, he was met with his fear-
Nothing. No photos, simple messages, cryptic DMs addressing whatever remnants of him are still left at her apartment. Was Jason necessarily just for his feelings? He hadn’t cut ties with y/n for personal reasons, as he failed to reason with her; he did it for her safety.
Yet he was the one safe in his apartment, away from the drifting waves of the ocean crashing on his feet. Jason sat up on the foot of the bed, deep breaths distracting him from a message from his eldest brother, Dick: Black Mask. Again.
But as all things must, Jason addressed the problem head-on, standing from his rest, and falling into line like the soldier he was.
“Go to hell, you bitch.”
The insult hardly left Jason’s sharp tongue before a stray bullet struck his right shoulder, catching him.
Black Mask laughed loudly in response, echoes of his sadistic nature bouncing from the bare walls of the empty building. Jason, hunched in pain, heard a screech of a car door opening and closing - along with the clambering of footsteps - and he assumed defeat, a puddle of blood forming underneath him as he lay wounded, a continental soldier.
So cold.
No other words came to his mind when Dick sprinted to him, inspecting the open flesh wounds before the obvious bullet hole just under his clavicle. “Jason, we can take you to someone to get you patched up, Cass is on my cycle, gaining on Black Mask’s car-”
“Y/n’s place.” Jason wanted to waste no more time, feeling his body heat subside as his consciousness swayed.
Dick shook his head. “But Jason, your shoulder-”
Jason barked at his brother, hiding his fear-stricken eyes underneath his white streaks of hair. “Now.”
Only nodding, Dick lifted Jason to his feet, carrying the injured man to the Orphan’s vehicle. He gingerly laid Jason in the passenger seat, nerves shaken by the dangerous state he was in; Dick knew about y/n and what Jason did - despite Dick’s disapproval - but was terrified that he would again lose his brother before they would make it to her apartment.
It didn’t stop Dick though, flooring the gas pedal and disregarding traffic lights. And once they pulled in front of the stout building, Jason didn’t hesitate to pull on the car door, opening it and dragging himself out and onto the fire escape.
Dick didn’t say a word to his brother, but remained there until Jason reached y/n’s window, pursing his lips when Jason’s bloodied hand faintly knocked on the dirty glass before lifting it, tumbling in through the opening.
“Jason, what are you doing here?” y/n forced a whisper, bringing her free hand to a tight fist. “I thought you said you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
Jason whimpered in pain, collapsing on the floor with a final groan. He lay quiet, as silent as y/n had ever seen him, and it evoked panic in her. “Christ, Todd, what did you get yourself into?” She rushed to his side, resting one hand on his left shoulder, and the other taking his hand; she paid no mind to the blood from his body dripping onto her maroon nightgown, nor could she - Jason’s breaths were heavy, labored. “Jason…Todd, why are you here?” y/n asked once more, voice broken, and use of formal name breaking Jason with her.
“I want to spend my life with you,” Jason panted, “or whatever of it I have left.” he shifted carefully, weight falling onto his arms, as he lifted himself from the ground. His jacket was tattered from the knife tears, and the black shirt underneath damp with…blood? Sweat? Tears? Not even Todd knew.
Before Jason’s arms gave out on him, y/n caught him, and guided him to her couch, where he slumped his back and upper body on the armrest. Y/n cursed under her breath when Jason unintentionally exposed the extent of his injuries, and began shuffling to the bathroom to retrieve the oversized first aid kit Dick supplied her with upon their first meeting. As she turned to leave, though, she was stopped by Jason gripping her forearm with whatever strength he conserved. “We can talk about this some other time, Todd, I just have to take care of-”
“No.” he gritted through clenched teeth, tears falling and catching on the scrapes on his cheeks, the salty liquid stinging him. “Just-just listen, okay?” y/n hadn’t heard him this vulnerable, weak…scared.
So scared. “I was scared that they would find you, hurt you, ki…” Jason trailed, vocal chords strained from the harrowing thoughts that washed over him. “I-I can’t lose you.”
Y/n bent down in front of Jason, bringing herself to eye level with him as she pressed her forehead to his. So close she was that she could see that he was crying, the sadness in his hazel eyes calling to her; Jason noticed the terror in y/n’s expression, her tears streaming past her cheeks, and it hurt him more than the bullet wound. He wanted no more than to protect her from pain, but the pain had been his doing, his hands, his actions.
He couldn’t bring himself to forgive his mistakes, so it was a shock to him when his hand felt warmer, softer flesh, and it was y/n’s hand, trembling as it took his. “Please don’t leave again. I can’t lose you.” Y/n’s other hand rested on Jason’s cheek, brushing the tears away as she healed his chest with forgiveness, a medicine he hadn’t quite experienced in his lifetime of agony. “If that means my last day is tomorrow, I don’t care - I want it to be spent with you.” y/n’s lips twitched as she grinned weakly, still overcome with emotion. She wanted to be strong for him, caring for him as nearly nobody else bothered, and it took him nearly dying to see that she believed he was deserving of such prophylactics. “Besides, I’m a strong woman, anyway.”
Jason instinctively smiled at the response, despite the overbearing torment from his wounds. “You are.” He placed his other hand over y/n’s, giving it a weak squeeze. “But I’ll protect you even when you can’t protect yourself. Always.”
The fire in Jason’s eyes burned y/n, like Icarus to the sun, and she felt her steel wings melt and burn into the ocean below her before she, too, fell. Jason was nothing short of serious, and the tone healed the words that shattered her weeks prior.
His eyes rolled back, and he fell unconscious, much to y/n’s dismay, snapping her from her dreadfully short dreamlike state. “Jason? Jay? Jay!” y/n shouted, voice stained with trepidation.
—-
The heart rate monitor beeped overhead.
Jason slumbered soundly on the bed, bare chest covered with bandages and stitches. Y/n placed a tender kiss to his forehead after combing his tuft of hair. She waited hours for him to come to, as the retired doctor noted before her departure, “Y/n, it could be days before he wakes up. Just keep him company.” And y/n did, taking his blood pressure intermittently, and refilling his IV bag.
Her favorite time was at dawn, when she poured herself and Jason dinnertime tea. She picked a book from her nook, and read it. While y/n was reading her collection of Emily Dickinson’s poems, though, out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw a stir in Jason, but shrugged it off, returning to the stanza.
But when his breathing staggered, and a quiet but needy, “Y/n” left his pale lips, y/n rose to her feet, nearly knocking over her steaming cup of tea. She rushed to Jason’s sight, and the sight of Jason hazily grinning at her overtook her.
“Jay.” she sang softly. “Please don’t do that again.” Jason attempted to adjust his posture on the bed, grunting in pain as he miscalculated his healing. “No, don’t- you have to rest for a while. It was pretty bad.”
Jason looked down at the bullet wound, where it was stitched and heavily bandaged. “I love you.” his voice was sleepy, but as serious as it was before he lost consciousness earlier.
“I know. I love you too.” Y/n was happy she left her window unlocked; Jason laid content with the angel at his bedside, a symbol of hope in his life he feared he could have never restored.
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cyberpunkonline · 6 months
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Cyberspace Sentinels: Tracing the Evolution and Eccentricities of ICE
As we hark back to the embryonic stages of cyber defense in the late 1990s, we find ourselves in a digital petri dish where the first firewalls and antivirus programs are mere amoebas against a sea of threats. The digital defenses of yore, much like the drawbridges and moats of medieval castles, have transformed into a labyrinth of algorithms and machine learning guards in today's complex cybersecurity ecosystem. The sophistication of these systems isn't just technical; it's theatrical.
The drama unfolds spectacularly in the cyberpunk genre, where Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics (ICE) are the dramatis personae. Let's peruse the virtual halls of cyberpunk media to encounter the most deadly, and delightfully weird, iterations of ICE, juxtaposing these fictional behemoths against their real-world counterparts.
We commence our odyssey with William Gibson’s "Neuromancer," where ICE is not only a barrier but a perilous landscape that can zap a hacker's consciousness into oblivion. Gibson gives us Black ICE, a lethal barrier to data larceny that kills the intruding hacker, a grim forerunner to what cybersecurity could become in an age where the stakes are life itself.
CD Projekt Red’s "Cyberpunk 2077" gives us Daemons, digital Cerberuses that gnash and claw at Netrunners with malevolent intent. They symbolize a cyber-Orwellian universe where every keystroke could be a pact with a digital devil.
The chromatic haze of "Ghost in the Shell" offers ICE that intertwines with human cognition, reflecting a reality where software not only defends data but the very sanctity of the human mind.
In Neal Stephenson’s "Snow Crash," the Metaverse is patrolled by ICE that manifests as avatars capable of digital murder. Stephenson's vision is a reminder that in the realm of bytes and bits, the avatar can be as powerful as the sword.
"Matrix" trilogy, portrays ICE as Sentinels — merciless machines tasked with hunting down and eliminating threats, a silicon-carbon ballet of predator and prey.
On the small screen, "Mr. Robot" presents a more realistic tableau — a world where cybersecurity forms the battleground for societal control, with defense systems mirroring modern malware detection and intrusion prevention technologies.
"Ready Player One," both the novel and Spielberg's visual feast, portrays IOI’s Oology Division as a form of corporate ICE, relentless in its pursuit of control over the Oasis, guarding against external threats with a militaristic zeal that mirrors today's corporate cybersecurity brigades.
And let’s not overlook the anarchic "Watch Dogs" game series, where ICE stands as a silent sentinel against a protagonist who uses the city’s own connected infrastructure to bypass and dismantle such defenses.
Now, let us tether these fictional marvels to our reality. Today’s cybersecurity does not slumber; it's embodied in the form of next-gen firewalls, intrusion prevention systems, and advanced endpoint security solutions. They may not be as visceral as the ICE of cyberpunk, but they are no less sophisticated. Consider the deep packet inspection and AI-based behavioral analytics that cast an invisible, ever-watchful eye over our digital comings and goings.
Nevertheless, the reality is less bloodthirsty. Real-world cyber defense systems, as advanced as they may be, do not threaten the physical well-being of attackers. Instead, they stealthily snare and quarantine threats, perhaps leaving cybercriminals pining for the days of simple antivirus skirmishes.
But as the cyberverse stretches its tendrils further into the tangible world, the divide between the fantastical ICE of cyberpunk and the silicon-hardened guardians of our networks grows thin. With the Internet of Things (IoT) binding the digital to the physical, the kinetic potential of cybersecurity threats — and therefore the need for increasingly aggressive countermeasures — becomes apparent.
Could the ICE of tomorrow cross the Rubicon, protecting not just data, but physical well-being, through force if necessary? It is conceivable. As cyberpunk media illustrates, ICE could morph from passive digital barricades into active defenders, perhaps not with the murderous flair of its fictional counterparts but with a potency that dissuades through fear of tangible repercussions.
In the taut narrative of cybersecurity’s evolution, ICE remains the enigmatic, omnipresent sentinel, an avatar of our collective desire for safety amidst the binary storm. And while our reality may not yet feature the neon-drenched drama of cyberpunk's lethal ICE, the premise lingers on the periphery of possibility — a silent admonition that as our digital and physical realms converge, so too might our defenses need to wield a fiercer bite. Will the cyberpunk dream of ICE as a dire protector manifest in our world? Time, the grand weaver of fate, shall unfurl the tapestry for us to see.
- Raz
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xk23587 · 10 months
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adroit--2022 · 2 years
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brakke-dino · 1 year
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Leave me alone part2
Around a month had passed, he was doing good. He had portioned out the muesli bars to last him as long as possible. At one point in the first week he knew he heard police, as there was a faint sound of barking aswell as they were shouting his name. With seeing this he knew he wasn’t deep enough, so spider had ventured deeper into the forest for some more hours. After he hadn’t heard anyone for a while he set up camp up in a tree. He made a little fort in the tree it was small but just enough for him to sleep, he used garbage bags to water proof the roof. He had a rain water system but even if it didn’t rain there was condensation that drips on. He was happy with his knew home.
The Sullys houses
At one point the Sullys and Quaritch joined together to find spider. the toll it was taking on the kids that spider had ran off, after school they would ride their bikes around to see if they could spot him around the neighbourhood. On weekends they would all go to the woods where someone saw him on a push bike. It was this weekend where they finally found something, Kiris bike under the bridge. Lo’ak was the one to find it, they knew he went off the path finally they we’re getting somewhere. It was still early so they left the path.
They had been walking all day Lo’ak had his bike, Kiri wanted to ride her bike but she said it gave her a feeling. They all sort of spread out to find him, it was 3:00pm when Jake said it was home time. Kiri was walking back then she saw something a red packet, a muesli bar packet. “ guys over here” Kiri yelled. Moments later they were all there inspecting the rubbish. The initials L.S on the rubbish it was supposed to be Lo’aks muesli bar, they kids had to put there initials on all of there lunch and resses to stop them from stealing each other’s snacks. They knew it was spider, Kiri marked the tree.
They made there way back home. All the kids ran upstairs. They all had maps in their rooms marking places with signs of spider and possibly were he could be. They all met in Kiris room to discuss where they should look next, They got it close to the river.
Quaritch
Spider running away hurt, it showed how strongly he hated him that he would rather live homeless then with him. Quaritch didn’t know what to do leave him were he is happy with the Sullys, or finally get to have custody of him and raise him like he always wanted to do. The decision was hard so he thought he would let Spider pick, he already knew spiders answer and it hurt that he knew the kid wouldn’t even second guess. After all he did run away all because he didn’t want to be with him.
Quaritch couldn’t make it this weekends search threw the forest. He got a phone call ‘Jake’ Quaritch answered, he was happy. They finally got somewhere, finding something they managed all that without him there. It made him sad and angry but realised how much he had fucked up the kids life in just a month. Maybe spider was better off with the Sullys but Quaritch still wanted to at least hang out once a week or something. Mind due this plan can’t be made if spider isn’t even here.
Spider 
Spider spent most of the days improving is house and trying to catch a fish in the river close to the tree he was sleeping in. He would try catching the fish by pegging his pocket knife in the water at the fish, he had been successful around 7 times now but he swears the fish are getting smarter. That night as he was about to fall asleep when he remembered Kiris envelope, being honest he was scared to see what was inside. What was inside brought tears to spiders eyes, a stack of photos of him growing up with the Sullys and funny pics of them together. His favourite would be them all standing pulling funny faces. He pushed the top through a branch on the wall it hung there, spider fell asleep staring at the picture.
“Spider!” Kiri called. Spider sprung awake, was she really here still looking. how far had she walked to find him? Spider watched from the trees as she inspected all of his stuff on the floor, then she looked up.
“SPIDER!! Omg is that you I can’t believe I found you!” Kiri yelled she was so happy. Spider jumped down and gave her a hug. Spider was disappointed he was found, but glad Kiri found. Spider realised he really wanted to go home, he was sick of muesli bars and fish and really shit night sleeps.
“Let’s go home now spider please” Kiri begged. With that Spider grabbed all his things and started walking with Kiri, Kiri walked with an arm on Spiders shoulder. they made it to the path, talking the whole way. Kiri was so happy with spread to Spider. They made it to where Spider stashed Kiris bike, Spider was shocked to see the bike gone. They continued walking down the path, they finally reached the road. They were going home.
Hope you enjoyed part 2 @today-or-tumble @nashichiyo @naavispider @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation sorry it took to long. There may be a part three on the Sullys reaction to seeing Spider is back maybe Quaritch to. If you have any questions please ask. Once again thank you for reading hope you enjoy 😊
@today-or-tumble @nashichiyo @naavispider @lost-girl-2021 @dirtytransmasc @hyperfixatedfandomer @kaspavanlortsyal @mischievousthing01 @sesshomamelia @spicymiilk @theneverendingstars @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation
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gmiresearch · 2 years
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whumped-by-glitter · 12 days
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Day 7: Bloodied knuckles / Wounded / “Is that blood?!”
*for those of you that are following along and had to skip day 5: Whumpee was had a sonic based power awaken due to fear and stress. They were also turned into some kind of living art project by one extremely creepy whumper.
⚠️ CW: Hand Injury, Blood, Emotional Whump/Angst, Creepy Whumper (Mentioned)
Day 6 Here <
Leader was pacing in his office. He often did that these days. It had been 2 weeks since Whumpee went missing, and just under a week since Youngest ran off. Honestly, Leader was shocked that he hadn’t worn a path in the floor yet.
He heaved a sigh; he’d been doing a lot of that too. The failed mission where Whumpee went missing was all his fault. Why did he even bring them along on that? Now Youngest had run off. His team was dropping like flies, and it seemed like not only was he powerless to stop it, but he was also the cause. He slammed his fist into the cement wall out of frustration.
There came a gentle knock at the door, his second in command, Jace, barged in without waiting for an answer.
“Sir, we got another package this morning,” Jace said grimly, handing Leader yet another brown envelope, hands shaking.
Leader drew a deep breath in before taking it. It matched the first one that they had received. He paused before opening it, “has there been any progress tracing the first one?” he asked hopefully.
Jace shook his head sadly, “whoever sent it knew what they were doing.”
Leader barely acknowledged the reply, it was not the answer he had hoped to hear. He steeled himself and began to tear open the envelope.
He could tell Jace was holding his breath same as him as he slowly, reluctantly, began to pull out the contents. Both men were afraid of what the envelope held.
The first thing Leader pulled out was a sheet of paper. Upon inspection it read:
‘My Dearest Team:
You are cordially invited to the art exhibition “Falling Angel” featuring the art of the talented Mr. Whumper. The exhibit will be open to invitees for a private viewing on Sunday April 14, 2024. It will then be open to the public April 15-17, 2024. There will be live demonstrations and refreshments served throughout the event.
The location and map are included in this packet, along with tickets for each of you good for the private viewing tomorrow.
We understand that it is short notice, but we do hope you can make it. After all this exhibition couldn’t have been possible without Leader and your team. We sincerely thank you for your contribution to this truly magical event.
~ Whumper’
Leader’s mouth went dry, and his head swam as he numbly dumped the tickets on the table, along with a map with an address. “I guess that proves my theory right,” he muttered, completely gutted. “there’s enough tickets to include Youngest, they’re not together.”
Jace picked up the letter that Leader had laid face down, so he too could read it. He didn’t know what to make of it. This Whumper person seemed completely unhinged. Then something made him realize something. He quick grabbed Leader’s chair and hopped on their computer. Sure enough….
“Hey, Leader, come look at this.”
A quick google search revealed that Whumper was a convicted murderer and was recently let out of prison on good behavior.
“FUCK!” a fist slammed the desk, denting it.
“It’s not your fault Leader, you couldn’t have known,” Jace tried to comfort him best he could.
“You know good and fucking well it is! You even told me not to take him!”
Jace gently wiped a tear from Leader’s face, “well get them back, both of them.”
“Just go tell Caretaker to be in my office ready to leave by 5 am, same as you, rest of the team stays, we need people to stay to look out for Youngest. I also refuse to risk losing anyone else.” Leader hardened his face and ordered sternly, pulling away from Jace.
Jace turned and left without another word, at a complete loss for what else to say.
Once he was certain he was alone again, Leader broke. The end of the letter just served to further twist the knife of guilt that was already firmly imbedded in his chest.
He turned back to the wall he had punched earlier, and just unloaded. He let loose punch after punch. Soon he started to leave the white wall decorated with bloody fist marks, but Leader could not stop. He kept going, in a desperate attempt to numb the internal anguish.
‘thud’
‘thud’
‘thud’
Blow after blow landed on the wall, until Leader could feel bone shattering. He turned and sunk against the wall, fists dripping blood. He had hoped the pain would clear his head, but it only served to make it so that there was pain in his hands and his mind. They had to get Whumpee back tomorrow, they just had to.
---
An hour or so later there was another knock on his office door.
“Go away,” Leader ordered. He noticed he sounded drunk, despite being more sober than he’d ever been.
“I’m coming in, sir.” Caretaker replied, ignoring their commander.
“I told you to fuck off, didn’t you hear me, you have your orders for the morning.”
It was no use, Caretaker barged in anyway. “I don’t care what you told me; I deserve to know what’s going on,” They noticed Leader was not at their desk before their eyes fell on the wall behind leader. “What the hell?! Is that Blood?!” they exclaimed, rushing over to Leader. “What happened?” Panic was evident in their voice.
“Nothing, it’s fine, get some rest,” Leader gave a halfhearted shooing motion.
Caretaker’s concern increased when they saw the state of Leader’s knuckles. They immediately set to healing them. “What were you thinking? We’re about to attempt a rescue and you what, bust up your knuckles? How did you plan on fighting like this?” Caretaker lectured.
Leader had no answer for their questions. He wasn’t thinking, he was just in pain, pain from wounds that Caretaker couldn’t heal. Nothing would heal them but their two teammates’ safe return.
Once his knuckles were fixed as best as caretaker could, they were not a miracle worker after all, they turned back to wanting filled in on Whumpee. “What is going on? Jace said we have a location on Whumpee?”
Leader nodded and waved to his desk where the contents of the package were still scattered.
Caretaker followed the gesture.  They picked up the letter and read it. Tears welled up in their eyes. “hell, this is almost certainly a trap,” they said, barely above a whisper, voice cracking.
Leader nodded, “that’s why It’ll just be Jace, you, and me tomorrow. I don’t even want to take you, but I have a feeling your healing is going to be essential. I cannot lose anyone else,” He sounded resigned, broken. His face looked so weary.
Caretaker came and slid down the bloodied wall next to Leader. the two friends sat in comfortable silence. Each realized sleep was going to be an impossibility that night.
Event Prompts Here
My Event Masterlist Here
@whumperofworlds, @3-2-whump, @whumpsandbumps, @pigeonwhumps
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leahrocky · 11 days
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The Pan-Dimensional Frisbee - pt 1.
I decided to list out all the hidden references / easter eggs I included in this story bc I had too much fun with it and I wanted to make sure anyone who was curious could see hahaha. So, if you'd like a deep dive into my pop-culture obsession... read below
Chapter One Title: "Across the Potterverse"
“We could be anywhere . We could die! Or worse, I could be fired,” Hermione said, fumbling with the grey frisbee now that she’d been shielded from the mud.  “Do I need to say it again?” Ron demanded.
 “there could be a universe out there that’s every bit the same as ours, except that shrimp don’t exist, or a universe where only shrimp exist—“
“What is he, then?” Ron asked. Hermione just frowned, focusing on the PDF again, and biting her lips to bite back the word. “Say it,” Ron said. “Out loud.” “Vampire,” Hermione said.
Hermione picked up a stack of papers, and read aloud, “Hogwarts Paper Company. We never let sleeping dragons lie.”
Where their fingers had once been, were now, what looked to be, wands . They were jointed where all the knuckles should have been, and ended in a familiar pointed tip. Wooden fingers, like a puppet’s.
Harry had never seen in the Hogwarts he knew. There were glass boxes erupting from turrets, like strange additional rooms and spaces. Instead of the gargoyles at the front, large whirring metal cameras turned on a constant swivel, and the grounds, instead of being empty and sprawling, were filled with strange looking obstacle courses that reminded Harry of an old muggle war movie he’d seen. 
She placed the aluminium packet on the table, and a glass dome rolled over it. Only a second later, the dome rolled away, and a full sandwich, alongside a fresh looking salad, appeared where the aluminium had been.
"don’t think I’d marry Cho. I mean, she’s lovely and all, but, no."
"Are we all still going to Nox’s afterwards?” Draco asked. “You still owe me a glass of Prosecco.” (this is a reference to an author i absolutely adore, NoxNoir :) I wanted to put them in the story in a fun little way. @ghostofnoir)
Chapter 2: Once More, With Feeling
You are about to enter another dimension… existing beyond time and space, and directly parallel to the universe of our previous story, a perfect identical match, except for one significant difference:
"Scared, Potter?” Draco asked. “You wish.”
Because right outside, instead of the ordinary muggle street he was sure he’d find, Harry saw the surface of the moon. (so, I decided to use inspiration from the movie Zathura for this dimension, and this dimension is actually supposed to be like a parallel universe travellers' like "safe zone" lmao. So if Harry and Draco just stayed there, they would have been fine. And it's why the fridge was covered in magnets... they were magnets from parallel universes)
On close inspection, they looked to be the sort of souvenir magnets typically sold in airports. All of them sported the name of some city, places like Los Cabos, Boston, Tokyo, and Frankfurt. Alongside places with names such as The Republic of Gilead, and Panem, that Harry wasn’t sure were real, as far as he was aware. However, the most shocking one of all was surely the one that said Diagon Alley, in glittery silver lettering, which Harry found himself staring at for several seconds. 
His hair, still that same platinum blond, was spiked up, in a way that reminded Harry of some singer whose name he couldn’t remember. (this is a double reference, lmao, because it's a reference to my main canon rewrite series where a character frequently compares Draco to the singer Billy Idol) (which is actually a reference to how Spike in Buffy gets compared to Billy Idol / Spike is a character whose redemption arc/enemies-to-lovers arc i find to have a lot in common w/ what I want for Draco)
“You know,” Harry said, steps slow, “I think we’re in London. And I think… I think that’s David Bowie—” (This is probably the most self-indulgent reference on the list lmao. Bc.... this universe is actually a universe from another fic I've written for another fandom lmao...)
“Two Blue Lagoons,” he said, the first name he landed on. ... "Well?” Harry asked as Draco grimaced. “How is it?” “Tastes like a hangover,” Draco said. (this is referencing a line from that fic--- "Eddie does get their next drinks. Blue shots called Blue Lagoons that taste full of sugar and the promise of a hangover.")
"Hey, hey, settle a bet for me, woudja?” the man asked, accent so American it almost hurt. “See my buddy over there,” he said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to some other man, who looked, from what Harry could guess, embarrassed, “he’s all outta wack because a few of your fellow countrymen ruffled his feathers, talking about werewolves in the moors. I told him they were just a bunch of hot air, but I think it’s still bugging him. So, I just thought I’d get a second opinion—-confirm that’s just something you say to mess with tourists, ain’t it?” the man said, finally finishing the sudden diatribe. (like I said, this is one of the main characters from that other fic of mine.... which is another doubled reference I'm so sorry lmao...) (because that fic was inspired by the opening of An American Werewolf in London... so this is the context)
“Besides,” Draco said, dropping his voice to a whisper that made Harry lean in to hear him, “there are pixies in the moors.”
“Pixies,” the man said, when his laughter finally subsided. “Ain’t that the name of a band?” (this is a reference to a line Richie says in my other fic: "Rumors? Ain’t that a Fleetwood Mac album?” Richie asks.)
"And then, to Harry’s horror, Hannah began to sing. "I’ve got a theory that it’s a demon… a dancing demon,” she sang, “ no something isn’t right there. ”
Chapter 3: Ron of the Dead
"You've... you've got red on you," Draco said, pointing to a swipe of red—blood, probably— on Harry's hand.
 “Oh… name was Brian. Brian Dumbledore”
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