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#money heist 5
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rafikecoyote · 1 year
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morecaffeineplease · 2 years
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its been over a month since summer started and i have yet to finish any of the media i planned to finish and yet i keep starting new media
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I've heard of Chekhov's Gun but not Chekhov's Pregnancy
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marigoldenblooms · 1 month
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An Important Lesson - One-Shot
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Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)
Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 
A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)
Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 
The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 
Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 
You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?
Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 
As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------
Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 
“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 
You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.
------------------------------------------
“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 
You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”
Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”
“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”
“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”
“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 
“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.
“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 
You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 
“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 
“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 
“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”
“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.
Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.
Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 
You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 
“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 
“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 
If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”
“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 
“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 
Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 
And your secret?
You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.
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crawlingalloverme · 2 years
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Wtf .......... .
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c-drama · 2 years
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البرفيسور: كوريا الحلقة 5
البرفيسور: كوريا الحلقة 5
يمكنك الآن تحميل و مشاهدة مسلسل البرفيسور: كوريا الحلقة 5 Money Heist: Korea ح5 كوري مترجم جودة عالية HD مشاهدة  أونلاين على موقع سي دراما ( مسلسلات كورية) قصة المسلسل:  اللصوص يتفوقون على دار سك النقود في كوريا الموحدة. مع وجود الرهائن المحاصرين بالداخل ، يجب على الشرطة إيقافهم – وكذلك العقل المدبر الغامض الذي يقف وراء كل ذلك. ليصلكم كل ما هو جديد من المسلسلات الكورية والمزيد تابعنونا على فيس…
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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 10 months
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Iconic things Inej Ghafa did that we seem to forget about/don’t talk enough about:
1) Threatened to bite a guy’s finger off
2) Swapped out Alby’s toy lion for a toy crow
3) Successfully stole Heleen’s diamond choker by making her think she was being choked to death
4) Nearly choked Heleen to death
5) Suggested she and Nina use their money from the Ice Court Heist to buy the Menagerie and burn it down
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elamanteyelamado · 2 years
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not to post negativity again but i remember very little to no details about season 5 other than very obvious plot points and honestly i think that’s very reflective of the season’s quality.
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rustingcat · 6 months
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Supercorptober 2023 masterpost!
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After promising myself I won't attempt it again this year, not only did tried again, but I made the insane decision of trying to write a multichapter fic with daily updates and a unique daily drawing on top of that. I'm still shocked I got it done on time.
Thank you @kmsdraws for the list! And the biggest thanks to my lovely Beta @snowydragonscave for her hard work and for keeping up with this insane pacing!
All the posts are organised in the list below, but you can find the entire story in order on AO3.
1.Wild 2.Romance 3.Kara
4.Money 5.Maroon 6.Write
7.Love 8.Vigilante 9.Breakfast
10.Twilight 11.Earth 12.Desk
13.Spice 14.Midnight 15.Game
16.Heist 17.Music 18.Lena
19.Hazy 20.Control 21.Lavender
22.Art 23.Morning 24.Enchanted
25.Cottage 26.Dinner 27.Cardigan
28.Seasons 29.Stars
30.Magic 31.spookycorp
You can find my drawing, animations, and the special one-shot Halloween fic from last year's supercorptober right here.
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baiabay · 10 months
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No Role Modelz (ATSV Black Cat Variant! Reader Insert)
Chapter 1: Scaredy-Cat
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Prologue
Chapter 1: Current Chapter
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
^^links 2 chapters!! this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33
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A/N: Spot is here!!
 Hey all! Okay so first things first thank you so much for all the support of the last chapter! It honestly means alot given that ive never written before lol. Alsoooo sorry for the radio-silence after the last release, i just graduated highschool! So yay for me :) also means that ill have much more time to write since its summer break for me now. Lastly,sorry if this chapter seemed kinda slow, I wanted to try to incorporate what this universes’ Felicia Hardys “canon events”(or what would be of her canon events) would look like in this chapter to set up a bit of backstory, as someone who doesn’t read the comics nor play the games, pls forgive any inaccuracies in Felicias lore as I am only going based off of wikipedia (plus in this story reader is a minor so I wanted to exclude the nsfw trauma that Felicia goes through in og story) I also wanted to find out a way how to integrate reader into the main plot which is why i decided to feature Spot in this chapter :D thanks again for the support and don’t forget that this chapter along with any future ones will be posted to ao3/tumblr under the same title!
P.S. Much more Spider-Miles/Black Cat interactions next chapter!!
Word Count: 1844
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You remembered it like it was yesterday.
Seven months ago, Brooklyn, New York.
Your father - The Black Cat’s face on every screen in the country, but most importantly yours.
BREAKING NEWS: WORLD-RENOWNED CAT BURGLAR CAUGHT IN THE ACT : IDENTITY SHOCKS THE NATION
…huh?
LIVE ON THE SCENE: ‘BLACK CAT’ REVEALED TO BE MULTI MILLIONAIRE WALTER HARDY AFTER RUN-IN WITH SPIDER-MAN
…no, this-
THIS JUST IN: CAT BURGLAR WALTER HARDY PRESUMED DEAD AT HEIST SCENE - POSSESSIONS TO BE TURNED IN TO OFFICIALS
This can’t be happening.
It was all too much at once. 
He never kept it secret from you. You knew about your father’s job.
You knew all about what he did. The planning, the heists, the reselling, he had done it for years. And you knew all about it.  But he had been doing this for years. Long enough to allow your family to live very comfortably. Long enough that you believed he would never be caught.
But yet there you were, all that you knew burned to the ground in a matter of minutes.
You remembered it like it was yesterday. Frantically packing everything you could into any bag you could find; clothes, money, pictures, weapons, anything - before they could take it away from you. 
And when they did, it was brutal. 
Live-streamed news coverage of men raiding your home, rummaging through your stuff- your father’s stuff- as if he never existed. 
Soon enough there were auctions. Bids, worth millions, on your father’s items, broadcasted across the nation, with drinks and music and finger foods - they made a fucking sport out of it. 
You remembered it like it was yesterday, the cheers in the street after the big-bad-black-cat was pronounced dead. The endless praise Spider-man received, that of which he took with a smile on his face. You had wished you could kill him.
You remembered it like it was yesterday, the day Peter Parker died.
You laughed.
.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .  
Seven months later, Brooklyn, New York.
Ugh.
Muscles aching, you stretched up in your bed, and groaned. Ruffling the bedhead out of your hair, you reluctantly trudged out of your mattress to open a window. Coincidentally, one of your many cats was perched perfectly on its sill, wide-eyed and tail flicking in your direction.
“...This whole heist stuff is really catching up to me, huh?”
The cat stared. You sighed. You really had to get yourself some friends.
Ever since your fathers passing, you’ve basically been on your own. Shortly after all his (and your) possessions were seized, you hopped around until you managed to find shelter in a shitty apartment on the west side of town. You, fueled purely by spite (with a tasteful teeny tiny dash of vengeance on the side), inherited the criminal persona of your father, along with his criminal tendencies, and took upon yourself the name of The Black Cat. 
All this time you’ve managed to keep your identity completely secret, not even your resellers knew who you were. That came with one major drawback though… you were extremely lonely.
Even with your frequent charity rounds around the community, noone really knew who you were. Even though Black Cat was nonviolent, the name was widely feared seemingly everywhere you went. Even with your days at school, the school you’ve been going to for months now, you made your way around the halls unnoticed. 
Speaking of school, you were late. 
Shit. 
Spending ample time dazing out your window, you’ve completely lost track of time. You disregarded your hair and rushed to pull on your uniform. Stumbling around your complex you hastily dumped too large of a portion of cat food into the automatic feeder, something you’re sure the cats will be grateful for. Shoving a few snacks into your bag, you simultaneously shuffled into your school shoes, proceeding to dash out the door. 
Sprinting down the stairs, nearly tripping once, twice, you whipped out your phone to check when the next bus route would arrive. 35 minutes.
Shitshitshit.
You paused, still in the stairwell, before turning to sprint in the opposite direction, towards the rooftop terrace. Creaking open the door, you checked to make sure noone else was up there before making your way towards the edge of the terrace. To anyone else but you, it would look like a young student was about to make an unfortunate decision and jump. And jump you did. 
You fell for a few seconds, relishing in the way your stomach dropped. You’d never get tired of that feeling. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building. Pulling and releasing, you quickly fell into a swinging pattern, towards Brooklyn Visions. 
Hidden from the eyes of civilians, you swung yourself through the shadows. Everyone looked so small from up there, and for a brief second, you found power in your lonesome. In the corner of your eye you noticed what seemed to be a lanky white figure clumsily flying through the air. (You paid it no mind).
Dropping down into a dark alleyway much closer to campus, you continued your mad dash towards the main entrance. Winded, you finally made your way inside the building, a thin layer of sweat shined on your forehead. The hallways were empty, class must be in session. You took a few steps forward, making your way towards your classroom until being knocked over by a student, very evidently in a hurry. 
“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’m just in a rush, I didn’t mean…”
The boy reached out his hand to help you up.
“Hey, it's no problem, I get it.”
You smiled, and took your hand in his. He hesitated for a moment, staring, brows furrowed at your now interlocked hands, before nodding and continuing his sprint down the hallways. 
You took in his disheveled appearance, his wonky tie, his half-tucked shirt, untied laces, dark eyes, curly hair, brown skin, sweaty palms…
Your thoughts were quickly interrupted with the shrill ringing of the school bell. Suddenly, the hallways flooded with students rushing towards their next classes, you decided to follow suit. 
On the other side of the hallway, Miles Morales lingered on how his spidey-sense flashed alarms in his head when his hand touched yours. Every nerve in his system telling him to run, fight, dodge, anything to get away from you-he couldn't put his finger on why. (He paid it no mind). Blaming it on nerves, Miles shoved his way through the packed hallways, dreading the meeting waiting for him in the guidance counselor's office. 
.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    
School was a bust, as always. Nothing new, you made your way through the rest of the day unnoticed. As always. But you didn’t have time to think about that right now.
At the moment, you were in the middle of going through numerous number-codes on a padlock blocking the vault door to an extremely expensive gemstone. You’ve been salivating over this stone for weeks now, planning out how and when exactly you would strike to get this thing in your hands. You could see it now, the headlines, the chaos, after some rando millionaire’s little rock was taken from him…
“Woah, hey, you’re new!”
You flinched, hard. Whipping around towards the source of this unusually chipper voice. You were met with… a cow? … Man?
You stared, hard. 
“Okay, hey. The ogling isn’t necessary… I just-”
The cowman’s sentence was cut short with a quick lash of your whip, that of which he caught…? Your whip seemed to phase right through a large black hole on his torso, the opposite end appearing in a similar black hole right behind you, the whips end striking your back. You cried out, hit with the full force of your lash.
Sinister giggles emerged from the spotted figure, pointed towards your pained form. You trembled, in shock. 
“It’s rude to interrupt.” 
Spot stepped slowly towards you, his…well, spots, whirring aggressively, pointedly. You were frozen on the ground. Staring up at him, your lips trembled open.
“What,” You coughed. Once, twice. “-what are you?”
The black and white figure straightened, only to then fold over into a dramatic, hilariously unthreatening pose. 
“You, can call me… The Sp-”
“Some sort of cow?” You snickered. It was now his turn to flinch, hard. 
“I am NOT a-” The cow cleared his throat. “I am not a cow…whydoeseveryonesaythat…I, am the most dangerous villain you’ve ever seen, The Spo-”
“I mean, what’s with that getup?” The grin on your face grew. “Is that… is that supposed to be a costume? Orrrr…” 
The Spot sighed, defeated. “...it’s skin.”
“It’s skin?” 
“Yes, yes, now I-”
You stood up, energy back and eyes crinkled. 
“Wow, that’s…hm, interesting…skin, that’s skin? Sorry, sorry-listen man, I uh, I really gotta get back to this, so if you don’t mind?”
Stepping backwards in offence, the spotted figure shook in anger before swinging out his arm, releasing numerous dark voids around the room. Hitting practically every surface, but one most importantly, landing on the vault door, separating you, from your stone.
“Ah-wait-”
Swiftly, The Spot weaved his way through his holes, limbs popping up and out around the room in a way you couldn’t even begin to reach for your whip. 
No way was he about to take it from you.
But take it, he did.
In what felt like seconds, the whole room was engulfed in black. Stumbling backwards, you fell through one of the voids, flailing ungracefully, swimming through nothing. 
It was hard to breathe. 
A shrill crackling terrorized your ears, and before you, appeared a very disheveled Spot, now fully black with white spots, facial dot whirring and trained on you.
Gem in hand. 
Panic.
You were panicking. The sound of blood thrummed in your ears as you squirmed around in nothingness. Fuck the rock, you just had to get out of here. 
A cold hand grabs your wrist, dragging you upwards, towards the crackling form. 
For the second time today, you were frozen.
“I am not a cow,”
The form spoke lowly.
“I am not some villain of the week”,
Frozen still, you did nothing but stare straight into his glare.
“I. Am. The Spot”.
Suddenly, you were dropped. For the second time today, your stomach dropped with you. Next thing you know you’re falling through another void, leading not into darkness, but through the city skyline. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building. 
As soon as your feet reached a solid surface, your legs buckled. Heaving, you failed to process what just took place, heart pounding in your ears. 
“...the fuck was that?”
.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   
Miles received word of commotion taking place downtown, something to do with spots. He had hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was, and it was. It was, and was so much worse. 
Dark spots littered a large manor, maniacal cackling emerging from its center. In the corner of his eye a familiar masked figure hunched over, breathing rapidly, staring straight ahead at the mess of spots.
(He paid it some mind.)
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Ppl that asked me to tag them!(thxx 4 the support!)
@nightshxdex
@itszzmoon
@blackcat-kittyblogs
@vxxxb
<3
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infamous-light · 2 months
Text
Captured Part VI
Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader
Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5
AO3: Captured
Summary: You and your mutant friends have been in hiding due to the havoc you all wreaked over the past few years. One day, you all decided to make your presence known and rob one of the largest federal reserve banks in the U.S.
Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.
Word count: 2.4K
Warnings: Allusion to non-con (it's not explicit), mind manipulation, kidnapping
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the broken windows of an abandoned rowhouse, you slouched in an old armchair, its once plush fabric now tattered and worn. Your fingers idly traced the frayed edges as you listened to the murmurs of your friends surrounding you.
To your left, Caleb paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands standing on end with static. Wes leaned against the back wall, idly flipping a switchblade open and closed.
Aria sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, her fingers flying across the keys of her laptop, the screen casting a faint glow on her face. Ellie stood by one of the windows, peering out into the darkening neighborhood, her expression unreadable.
“We need a lot of cash, and we need it fast,” Caleb muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. “We've got debts to some dangerous people, and you know they're not the patient type.”
Wes nodded solemnly. “We could always hit up another drug stash.”
Ellie shook her head. “We've hit up every dealer in Baltimore already. We need something bigger. Something that can last us long term.”
“True. I guess we can't keep relying on small-time gigs.” Wes added, his brow furrowing in contemplation.
The air grew heavy with desperation as everyone racked their brains for a solution. And then, like a beacon of hope in the darkness, Caleb's suggestion cut through the silence.
“What about the Federal Reserve Bank in New York?” He said, his voice tinged with excitement.
Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his proposal sank in. The Federal Reserve Bank. One of the most heavily guarded institutions in New York City.
Your eyebrows rose as you glanced at Caleb. “The Fed? Seriously?”
“Yeah, think about it,” Ellie chimed in. “All that money just sitting there, waiting for someone to take it.”
“Hold on just a moment,” Aria interjected. “The federal reserve doesn’t actually hold cash.”
A collective sigh rippled through the group, and Caleb threw his hands in the air in frustration.
“Well, there goes my idea.” He grumbled.
Aria held up a hand, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “But it does hold something far better. Gold bars. Thousands of them.”
That revelation sparked a renewed fervor among everyone.
“We'd just need a solid plan,” you said cautiously, trying to sound practical despite the excitement building inside of you. “If we manage to pull this off, we have to leave the country as soon as possible. We'll need to lay low for a couple of years again. Is that a risk we're all willing to take?”
The weight of your words hung heavy in the stale air of the building. But the lure of the heist, the promise of freedom and wealth, overshadowed any doubts.
“What places are you thinking of?” Wes asked.
“Well, we could stay in Belarus or Slovakia for a start and then go from there.” You replied, giving him a half shrug.
Aria nodded thoughtfully; her expression serious as she considered the logistics. “Yeah, those countries could work. We'd need a safe house, somewhere off the grid.”
You leaned back into the armchair, its worn upholstery creaking beneath you, and gave your friends a grin.
“So, let's hear it then. How do you propose we pull off the heist of the century?”
***
You stirred from your slumber, feeling the gentle sway of someone shaking your shoulder. Slowly, you blinked your eyes open to see Wanda leaning over you with a smile. She was wearing a flowing sundress, the fabric rustling around her as she shifted on her feet.
“Wake up, darling.” Wanda whispered, her voice a soothing melody that pulled you from the depths of sleep.
Groggily, you stretched and yawned. As your senses came back to life, you realized you had dozed off on the couch, the television playing an ad in the background. Wanda leaned in a little closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheek.
“It's almost dinner time,” she said. “Are you hungry? Would you like us to fix you something to eat?”
You nodded mechanically, more out of habit than genuine hunger. Your gaze drifted past Wanda's shoulder to the clock on the wall. Its hands moved steadily, showing the time to be 4:50 PM.
With a small sigh, you realized how much of the day has already slipped by unnoticed.
“I think I'll go take a shower.” You murmured.
The words were heavy on your tongue as you pushed yourself up from the couch. Wanda nodded understandingly, her expression warm and patient as she gave you space to gather yourself.
“Of course, take your time.” Her gaze lingered on you for a moment before she straightened up.
Your eyes shifted across the living room, and you noticed that Natasha sat at a nearby table, engrossed in her laptop. The sight of Natasha on her laptop triggered a sharp pain in your skull, and suddenly, the image of Aria sitting in front of her own laptop in your dream came rushing back to you.
For a moment, you found yourself frozen in place.
You stood there, lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts. Natasha's gaze lifted from her laptop; her expression inscrutable as she met your eyes.
She broke the silence, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of restraint. “Do you need something?”
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond.
“Uh-no, I'm just feeling pretty tired.”  You replied, your voice slightly hoarse.
“Alright.” Natasha said plainly.
She returned her attention to the screen, seemingly unperturbed by the exchange.
Feeling Wanda's light touch on your left shoulder, you looked up to meet her gaze, only to find her giving you a strange look.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine worry. “You seem... distant.”
You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it felt forced on your lips.
“I'm okay. I think I stood up too quickly.”
Wanda studied you for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, before nodding slowly.
“Alright,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “Go take a shower. It might help you feel more awake.”
You offered her a grateful nod before leaving the room, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your mind.
With each step toward the bedroom, the remnants of the dream clung stubbornly to your mind, like tendrils of fog refusing to dissipate. The hallway stretched out before you and you soon reached the center where it split into two. You found yourself at a crossroads, both figuratively and literally.
You glanced down the hallway to the right, where the dim light revealed a series of closed doors leading to other rooms. You didn't have the chance to wander down it last time. Your mind flickered with the idea of discovering more about your surroundings, searching for potential escape exits or hidden passages.
As you looked back toward the living room door, you caught the sound of Wanda and Natasha talking, their voices mingling as they discussed what you all should have for dinner.
No.
There wouldn’t be enough time to do what you needed to do. With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside the urge to snoop around and instead made your way to the bedroom.
As you entered, your eyes drifted toward the only window in the bedroom. Memories of examining the window in the storage room flickered briefly in your thoughts. You approached the window, your hand hovering over it. You placed your palm flat against the cool surface, feeling the smoothness of the glass beneath your touch. But as you did, a sense of disappointment built up within you.
It was made of the same tempered glass as the storage window. Despite the discouragement, you wouldn’t give up. You turned away from the windowsill and stepped into the bathroom, intent on taking a refreshing shower to help clear your mind.
***
You sat at the dinner table, your fork clinking against the plate as you absentmindedly pushed the food around. Wanda was to your right, her expression content as she delicately picked at her own meal. Natasha sat across from you, her gaze fixed on her plate.
Despite the palpable atmosphere, Wanda remained unfazed, engaging you in conversation as if everything was normal.
“Are you enjoying your meal, honey?” Wanda asked, her voice warm and inviting.
You glanced at Natasha, catching her eye for a moment before turning your attention back to Wanda.
“Yeah, it's great.” You said, attempting to sound cheerful.
Wanda's smile faltered for a brief moment, a hint of doubt flickering in her eyes before she smoothed it away with practiced ease. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, wishing for this tension between you and Natasha to end sooner rather than later.
As dinner came to an end, you started to stand, ready to help with the cleanup, but Wanda stopped you with a gentle touch on your arm. “There’s no need to worry about that. Why don't you pick out something for us to watch while we take care of this?”
You hesitated for a moment, but you nodded, grateful for Wanda's gesture to get you out of this situation.
“Sure.”
You headed to the living room, leaving Wanda and Natasha to clean up the remnants of dinner.
Once you entered the living room, you noticed that the couch lacked its usual array of cozy blankets. It seemed oddly bare without them. With a mental note to grab some from the nearby closet, you reached for the remote and scrolled through the options on one of the streaming services.
You paused, your finger hovering over the OK button as you debated between a classic comedy or a gripping thriller. Eventually, you settled on ALF, hoping its humor would help lighten the mood.
With the TV show playing in the background, you made your way over to the closet and opened the door. The hinges creaked as the door swung open, revealing a bunch of blankets and throws neatly folded on the shelves.
You reached in, your fingers grazing the soft fabric as you searched for just the right one to bring back to the couch. You selected a blanket large enough to cover you all, its warmth already promising to chase away the chill that seemed to permeate the room.
Closing the closet door, you sighed, ready to get the night over with. But just as you were about to turn around, the TV suddenly turned off, casting the room into unexpected darkness. Startled, you froze, the blankets slipping from your grasp.
Heart pounding, you slowly turned the rest of the way, your eyes widening as you caught sight of Natasha standing by the couch. You could see the faint outline of her features, illuminated by the glow of the hallway light filtering through the partially closed door.
“Natasha,” your voice trembled slightly, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Is everything okay?”
Natasha's piercing gaze was fixed on you, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and wounded pride. A cold chill swept through the room, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that whatever was happening was far from over.
Without a word, she advanced toward you. You took a step back, your heart hammering against your ribcage.
“You think you can just deny me?” Natasha's voice cut through the silence like a knife, her tone dripping with venomous contempt.
Before you could respond, Natasha closed the distance between you two in an instant, her hand shooting out to grab your arm in a vice-like grip. The suddenness of it all caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wince as a jolt of pain shot through your forearm. Her grip was like iron, the force of it leaving bruises to already bloom beneath her fingertips.
“Please, Natasha, stop! You’re hurting me!” You cried out, trying to wrench your arm free from her grasp.
Natasha's grip only tightened, her nails digging into your skin with cruel determination.
With a swift motion, she shoved you backward, sending you stumbling against the couch with a startled gasp. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you braced yourself for another attack. Instead, Natasha loomed over you, her expression twisted into a mask of rage and frustration.
“Why are you being so difficult?” Natasha demanded as she folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes pierced into yours with an intensity that made you squirm internally.
You wanted to resist her control, to break free from this terrible situation. But on the other hand, there was a nagging fear low in your gut, a fear of what she was capable of if you dared to defy her.
“I-I'm just nervous.” You forced out, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your palms felt clammy, and you resisted the urge to fidget under her scrutiny.
“I can tell.” Natasha retorted, her tone dry and devoid of sympathy.
“It’s just-I’m not used to doing this kind of thing.” You confessed, the admission leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“Well, you'll get used to it.” Natasha said as she stepped closer. Her hand reached out, fingers tracing a path along your jawline. You shivered under her touch.
“You need to relax,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “You'll enjoy it, I promise.”
A surge of nausea churned in your stomach, bile rising in your throat at the implication of her words. The thought of succumbing to Natasha's desires against your will filled you with a deep, primal dread.
Natasha’s movements were deliberate as she moved to straddle your hips, pinning your body against the couch. Every inch of your body screamed at you to fight back, to push her away, but you forced yourself to remain still. Her lips then curled into a predatory smirk, her eyes alight with desire.
Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “You can't stay nervous forever.” She whispered.
Her hands roamed your body with possessive urgency, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your skin crawled beneath her fingertips, and you fought the urge to recoil. Tears began to well up in your eyes as Natasha's lips brushed against your pulse point.
A wave of revulsion crashed over you, accompanied by a sickening sense of resignation. The line between desire and coercion blurred, leaving you trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.
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sirfrogsworth · 3 months
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Today in, "Conservatives keep making me side with Disney"...
So, Gina Carano is suing Disney. And Elon Musk is paying for her lawyers. And they released the complaint document.
It's... a doozy.
I can't decide if her lawyers are not taking this seriously at all or if they are taking it super duper extra seriously.
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Like, that's a real thing that a lawyer wrote.
As you know, judges are famous for enjoying levity in official court documents. I think in law school you are encouraged to add comedy bits. True facts.
Gina wants money for emotional damages. But she also wants to be rehired, which sounds like another funny comedy bit. They scrapped an entire show because of her nonsense.
Most are saying this will get thrown out with haste due to the fact that Gina wasn't actually fired. She had already done her contracted work. Disney decided not to hire her for any *new* work. So I guess she wants them to honor an imaginary contract that was in her head.
The entire document is just as ridiculous as the opening crawl. It starts out by listing Gina's show biz bona fides. Her myriad accomplishments in Hollywood were listed one by one in a section titled...
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Well, I'm intrigued.
Let's take a look at this illustrious career, according to this document.
"Carano is the first-ever female star in mixed martial arts cage fighting to successfully transition to a career in movies, breaking down substantial barriers for women in the sport."
Off to an interesting start.
All the cage fighting gals can act in movies now and they all have Gina to thank for barrier busting.
"Carano received roles in Hollywood and independent film productions such as Haywire, Fast & Furious 6, Heist, Deadpool, Almost Human, Extraction, Daughter of the Wolf, and Madness in the Method."
I've heard of several of those things! And I think I almost remember her in Deadpool! Very impressive.
Oh wait, they're not done...
"On May 13, 2008, “Gina Carano” was the fastest rising search on Google and third most searched person on Yahoo! while being ranked no. 5 on Yahoo!’s “Top Ten Influential Women of 2008” list."
In 2008 she was popular on Yahoo for a bit. Got it.
Has she won any awards?
"In 2012, Carano was the first recipient of the ActionFest Film Festival’s Chuck Norris Award for Best Female Action Star.
In 2017, Carano received the Artemis Action Warrior Award.
In 2019, Carano received The Rising Star award at Ischia Film Festival."
Very prestigious. I'm sure Chuck Norris has a lovely basement where that ceremony was almost certainly held.
You know what, why don't we just skip to The Mandalorian?
"Although her character instantly became one of the most recognized and popular characters in the series..."
Gina, no... that was the little green puppet.
You were the one who couldn't act very well but you made up for it by punching things good.
"Carano was again instrumental in the success of Season 2 of The Mandalorian."
Nope, still the puppet.
End of "accomplishments."
The next section is titled
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For some reason they left out "bigoted" before speech. Weird.
In most of it, it legit sounds like they are making a case *against* her. They show that everyone at Disney and Lucasfilm tried very hard to give her chance after chance. They did everything but point blank tell her, "Either learn and relieve yourself of this ignorance or stop posting shit online."
She totally had the option to keep her shitty views to herself and shut the heck up for the duration and enjoy the money and success a Star Wars show can bring. It's like swatting away a lottery ticket.
I'm all for free speech. And if the government tried to arrest her for saying dumb shit, I'd be against that. But that freedom to speak does not mean there are never consequences. People are also free to not like what you have to say.
The entire last section of the document is just tweets that Gina screencapped. Like, her lawyers didn't even redo them so they had consistent formatting or pixel dimensions. They were literally just off Gina's phone.
She thought she was collecting receipts but it was mostly just her co-stars standing up for marginalized groups.
Based Pedro Pascal posted this...
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And the document commented...
"Pascal was not disciplined, required to review documentaries on any of these topics or speak to individuals with contrary points of view, or pressured to apologize for any of his posts. His employment was not terminated, and Defendants made no public statements about his social media posts, much less refer to them as “abhorrent.”"
Yes, why wasn't Pedro forced to listen to MAGA dipshits tell him why they hate his sister? Why wasn't he told to watch a Dinesh D'Souza documentary? Why wasn't he told to apologize for posting cool ass muppet memes?
The most telling part of the document for me... the part that really showed her ignorance... was when she compared one of her tweets to one of Carl Weathers'.
First, her infamous tweet comparing the holocaust to conservatives being moderated on social media for spreading misinformation...
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And then Carl posted this in response to conservatives banning books...
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And the document says...
"Even Carano’s male co-star, the late Carl Weathers posted the exact same message, but no action was taken against him. Nor was Weathers accused by Defendants of denigrating people based on their cultural and religious identity."
THE EXACT SAME MESSAGE
THE. EXACT. SAME. MESSAGE.
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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months
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my miles g headcanons!
A/N: the ending scene in ATSV made me think a lot about what a Miles that never got to reach his full potential as Spider-Man would be like. so, here are some of the thoughts/speculation I wrote down! Ofc you can feel free to disagree with my interpretation since he's not even on screen for more than 5 minutes lol but this guides how I choose to write him.
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Essentially, Earth 42 Miles is a Miles that has given up. Like 1610 Miles says to Uncle Aaron, he likely does not believe he has a choice.
Maybe he steals on top of a second job to help support his mother, leaving little to no time for school
He uses his genius to build the Prowler suit instead of the spidey suit
Doesn't enjoy stealing but makes money from it so he can. Afford shit
Same love for art and music as Miles, but his taste likely differs/has changed (42 Uncle Aaron doesn't play hip hop, instead he plays Bobby Bland). I imagine him to have darker tastes and a sadder playlist lol
He is not MEAN or EVIL, just tired and spread too thin. Perhaps a little angry that his future was stolen from him.
With no superheroes and a police force that would likely be rendered ineffective, maybe community efforts would be more prevalent in this version of Brooklyn...?
Maybe 42 Miles uses some of his earnings from being the Prowler to give back? Would be strange and out of character to me for a Miles in any universe to be excessively selfish (he might still buy himself nice stuff tho)
Calmer and a bit more direct than 1610 Miles (who has time to beat around the bush?)
Burdened with responsibilities, he would not have as many chances to have fun
Now getting too old to go on heists as often, Aaron locates jobs for Miles and takes him to the location
Both Miles are lying to their moms so that guilt is still there
He cannot see a way out and neither can his uncle so they are both trapped in a vicious cycle; everyone is resigned in some way
The Prowler suit looks obviously heavier than the spidey suit, but he's still able to jump around in it. This may require earth 42 miles to be a bit stronger
Based on the jacket and cargo pants (instead of 1610 miles' hoodie and puffa w shorts), Miles g might have a different/more "mature" sense of style.
Has a mix between his Uncle Aaron's accent and his mom's, as evidenced by the film (everybody say thank you Jharrel Jerome). His voice is "deeper", but only sounds that way because he speaks more with his lower register whereas 1610 Miles/Shameik speak from a slightly higher place most of the time. More of an observation than a headcanon skfjdk
Has probably gotten used to doing horrible things to survive, but it's still...well, Miles. I'd like to think he's still capable of kindness when he isn't the Prowler and isn't ruthless all the time. He's still just a kid!
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firespirited · 2 years
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We were all so justifiably pissed off at October the 3rds update for Renfield and Mina’s attacks that the scale of the heist they pulled off doesn’t really register.
Dracula is undone because every backup plan he had was uncovered and destroyed by Jonathan’s solicitor-detective skills, Van Helsing’s superstition knowledge and a solid crew of 5 working during the time he is in human form out stalking prey.
Mina and Jonathan’s investigation found 50 boxes of drac-safe dirt imported to Whitby where he first snacked on Lucy. Lucy’s tomb would have been a place safe for Dracula but they’ve sterilized that. He’s been buying houses under aliases to disperse his dirt.
So in one day they sterilize 49 boxes in 4 different houses. The chapel in Carfax held 29 boxes, they break into Piccadilly which is very public by bribing a locksmith and it’s supposed to have the 9 leftover boxes but only has 8. 6 are at Bermondsey and 6 at Mile End: destroyed by Arthur and Quincey who got the addresses from Jon and the keys from the Piccadilly house. Mina sends a telegram when she sees him storm out of Carfax so they’re somewhat prepared for him - he fights all 5 guys and escapes anyway, I’m guessing they’re going to need a weapons upgrade or a way to weaken him.
This leaves Drac with one box and his money. He had 6 backup plans and they destroyed 5 because he snacked on the wrong woman with friends in Whitby and let his real estate lawyer escape.
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vox-ex · 6 months
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between the lines
that's all done for supercorptober 2023!
you can find them here on Ao3 too if you would like :)
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day 1 - wild
"You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves." - Mary Oliver
day 2 - romance
"we melt into each other with phrases. We are edged with mist. We make an unsubstantial territory." - Virgina Woolf
day 3 - Kara
"The shortest poem is a name.” —Anne Michaels
day 4 - money
"Every moment happens twice." ― Zadie Smith
day 5 - maroon
"nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." -Kait Rokowski
day 6 - write
“Let us turn over the pages, and I will add, for your amusement, a comment in the margin.” - Virginia Woolf
day 7 - love
"I love you so much I’ll never be able to tell you" - Dylan Thomas
days 8 and 9 - vigilante + breakfast
"You can put your strength down. I’m sitting here with you at your kitchen table. You don’t need to say anything." - Eden Robinson
days 10+11 - twilight + earth
“I had forgotten how much light there is in the world, till you gave it back to me.” - Ursula K. Le Guin
day 12 - desk
“People are a lot more knowable than they think they are.”  ― Sally Rooney
days 13 + 14 - spice + midnight
“you owe me sleep, so much sleep.” c.c. aurel
day 15 - game
“There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.” ― Albert Camus
days 16 - heist
I′ve waited ‘til the moment’s right To look into those starry eyes And say the words That I′m thinking all the time - The Hunts, I Do
day 17 - music
Shut up behind my rib cage, my warm heart expands and contracts independent of my will–over and over.” - Murakami
days 18 + 19 - Lena + hazy
“The shortest poem is a name.” — Anne Michaels
days 20 + 21 - control + lavender
“…and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.” ― Richard Sikenh sleep.”
day 22 - art
“what does it all come down to? love? Love” ee cummings
days 23 + 24 - morning + enchanted
"you are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out." - Kafka
day 25 - cottage
I don’t want to lose a single thread from the intricate brocade of this happiness
-Mary Oliver
day 26 + 27 - cardigan+dinner
“We're each of us alone, to be sure. What can you do but hold your hand out in the dark?” - Ursula K. Le Guin
days 28 + 29 - season + stars
“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star." ― Haruki Murakami
days 30 + 31 - magic + spookycorp
“Time expands, then contracts, all in tune with the stirrings of the heart.” ― Haruki Murakami
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You all are the best...thank you so much for following along... and thank you to all the creators this month please continue to check out their work...I know I have a lot catch up on too.
also also thank you to @kmsdraws for the prompts!
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