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peachycoreroo · 3 years

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i was thinking, what about boys from haikyuu losing game and taking their anger on their s/o in bed to the point s/o is saying safe word, crying? if that's too much, just make them really angry, hurting s/o with words.

i was thinking about Suna, Kita and maybe Shirabu?

characters: suna rintarou, kita shinsuke, shirabu kenjirou

genre: smut, slight angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.8k

warnings: fem!reader, angry boys, established relationships, spanking, one (1) face slap, choking, vaginal penetration, oral m!receiving, usage of ‘whore’, ‘bitch’ and ‘slut’, heavy degradation, semi-public sex, pretty harsh words are said, safe word is used

authors note: uuu this is my first darker piece for hq, but it does end in fluff!! i tweaked it so it fits the timeskip, but just a friendly reminder that this is pure fiction, your favs love you and would never hurt you<3 here's a link to my masterlist

pt.2: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei

suna rintarou:

it wasn’t often that your boyfriend resorted to pounding the living shit out of you immediately when you had sex, usually opting for teasing you till you couldn’t take it anymore and begged him to fuck you or took the reins in your own hands and rode him till you were both shaking from overstimulation.

this time, was bad though.

the japanese national volleyball team just lost the finale of the olympics, resulting in them only getting the silver medal. no matter how amazing the second-place sounded, it still hit hard to miss the big gold by a hair.

just like how hard suna was currently hitting your ass, as he fucked into you in the empty changing room of the team. you only wanted to check on him when you saw how dejected he looked as he left the field with the team, when the tall brunet just ripped down your clothes and bent you over, fury dancing in his greenish eyes.

you knew how hard rintarou and his teammates worked for this. it was only natural they couldn’t celebrate. losing is still losing, no matter if you’re getting a medal.

“f-fuck, rin, it hurts”, you wailed, tears already streaming down your face from the full-force slaps that were delivered to your sore ass cheeks. being bent over with only the locker in front of you and sunas’ hands on your hips as a leverage to not fall face first on the floor, slowly took a troll on your tired body. it also didn’t help that your legs were barely able to keep you up with how powerful his thrusts were.

“shut the fuck up and take it, worthless whore”, he growled furiously, thrusts only increasing in speed, and a hand sneaking to your front, wrapping itself around your neck. the cruel comments that usually caused your cunt to flutter and eyes roll back, suddenly made your heart sink.

you knew he was angry at being defeated by the opposing team and not at you, but you couldn’t stop the heavy feeling in your chest, or the tears that seemed to multiply at his cold remark.

when the adjustment of his hips caused him to hammer his fat tip painfully against your cervix and his hand tightened harshly around your throat, your knees gave out and you tried to scream only for nothing to come out of your mouth.

“useless, fucking bitch, can’t even stand upright. why do i even keep you around?” he aggressively huffed, not paying any attention to your comfort. you couldn’t take this anymore.

your body went completely limp, as you whispered a small, choked ‘silk’, not even being sure if he heard, when his mind was so clouded by rage.

but he did. and his heart painfully clenched when he recognized the hurt tone in your voice, instantly letting go of your bruised throat and ceasing his thrusts.

guilt filled him as he pulled out and finally looked at you to see you sobbing uncontrollably, arms wrapping protectively around your form as if you were afraid of him hurting you.

“hey… hey, y/n, sweetie, look at me.” suna’s gentle tone had you looking up at him, your vision blurry as your pained expression met his tender one.

“’m s-sorry i couldn’t help you, r-rin’. ‘m sorry y-you lost”, you stuttered out helplessly.

here you were, crying and in pain, but still thinking about him. the brunet was sure he didn’t deserve you.

“no, i’m sorry, pretty. i got carried away”, the tall volleyball player whispered softly, his large palms cupping your cheeks, “i love you and i never want to hurt you. please, forgive me.”

the guilt etched into his handsome face showed you just how bad he really felt, your lips lifting in a small smile. “’s ok, rin’. i love you too.”

the tall male breathed out a sigh of relief as he embraced you tightly and kissed your forehead. suna rintarou would never get carried away like this again. that, he promised himself.

kita shinsuke:

when kita got home, all dejected and upset because some assholes decided to trash grandma yumie’s precious crops in the darkness of the night, you opened your arms with love and understanding. what you didn’t expect however, as you asked how you could help, was to end up on your knees with your boyfriend abusing your throat for what felt like hours.

your knees were aching from the uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor, throat painfully contracting around his thick length as he pounded your mouth as if it were your cunt, jaw hurting from holding it open for so long.

you felt like you would pass out any minute, and while normally kita would immediately sense any of your slightest mood shifts when you were being intimate, he didn’t this time.

where there was usually a caring boyfriend who wouldn’t take his gaze of your face and always asked if you’re doing okay, was a guy who had a far away look on his frowning face, only using you as an outlet for his anger.

the white-black haired male was almost scarily quiet, only occasional grunts and growls escaping his lips. your gurgling and gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat with every forceful thrust were painful to listen to, and you couldn’t wrap your head around your boyfriend not realizing what he was doing to you.

as tears streamed down your numb face, you weren’t able to stop your teeth from grazing his fat cock, your throbbing jaw not cooperating with your brain anymore.

kita let out an animalistic growl as he pulled out of your wet mouth at once, a sudden slap to your tender cheek startling you.

“you asked how to help and you’re doing exactly that, but can’t even do that for me, huh?”, he spat almost hostilely.

the hurtful words, the harsh slap and the rage painted on his usually calm and kind face made your heart ache, as you sobbed out a ‘peach! shin’, please! peach!’

kita suddenly felt as if he awoke from a hypnosis, when he heard you cry out your safe word. as his -now clear- gaze fell on you, he couldn’t help his chest from painfully tightening. you only offered to help, and he’s gone and hurt you like never before.

falling on his knees in front of you, he pulled you into his strong arms, rocking you both side to side as he apologetically murmured ‘i’m so sorry, angel’ and ‘i love you’ over and over again into your messy hair.

“m’ okay, shinsuke. just wanted to help", you sniffled against his chest, making kita close his eyes out of pure shame that he did that to you.

“let’s get you into the bathtub and i’ll cook your favorite, how does that sound love?”, he whispered softly, as if afraid that any of his next movements would make you break.

the next few weeks you barely got to do anything, kita shinsuke always glued to your side and immediately taking over any task that was thrown at you.

shirabu kenjirou:

being a med student was fucking exhausting. shirabu had spent months writing a very important thesis about certain brain tumors on newborns, only for his professor to give him a c. something about it not being detailed enough.

“fuck you”, shirabu spat as he was sitting in front of the fire place in your shared apartment, throwing all 80 pages of the “not detailed” dissertation into the fire.

“ken’? what are you doing?”

“burning this fucking nightmare. ’m gonna drop out, fuck this shit”, he almost growled furiously. coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, leaning down to ask lowly: “you want a better way to deal with your anger?”

that’s how you found yourself bent over his lap with your panties dangling at your ankles. the spanking wasn’t new, your boyfriend being super pissed while doing so, was.

the first few slaps went as usual with you clenching around nothing and enjoying the rubs to the tender flesh shirabu hit a few seconds prior. after, it suddenly went downhill.

all at once, the soft caresses ceased to a stop, his calloused palm from years of playing volleyball coming down on your ass with full force and the copper-haired man spewing some of the most degrading stuff you’ve ever heard.

“fucking slut, getting off to this. you like it when i use you to let out my anger? i’m having a hard time while you’re just being a horny, selfish fucktoy”.

at the last sentence, you froze. did he really think you were using him? you only wanted to help, but his cold words continued. “gonna beat your ass till it’s sore and aching, you won’t be able to sit without remembering what a useless fucking girlfriend you were while i needed support.”

the logical part of your brain knew, that your boyfriend didn’t mean it. the anger got the best of him, and he just threw around accusations like he wished he could do at his asshole of a prof.

but the bigger, sensitive part of your brain convinced you that he meant every single hurtful word. you weren’t even hearing what derogatory stuff was spilling from his lips anymore, vision blurry and ears ringing from the pain you felt in your chest as well as your ass cheeks.

was this your fault? was it wrong to try and help? maybe you should’ve given him some space.

a particularly hard spank brought you back to reality, suddenly tasting the salty wetness of your tears seeping into your mouth as you cried out a loud ‘pumpkin!”, trying to push yourself out of his lap and landing on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ as his hands instantly let you go.

shirabu could only look at you wide-eyed when he saw how you were choking on your sobs and crawling backwards, just to get away from him.

“please don’t hit me anymore!”, were the words, that would haunt kenjirou for the rest of his life. he could feel himself tear up when it hit him what he did to you, his precious girlfriend, just because he was angry at a prof.

“baby, i- please i would never hit you like that on purpose, i- “, the male felt his throat tighten up and with a quiet sniffle he embraced you tightly, craving the warmth of your body. “forgive me, i love you so much, please don’t go.”

as you started to calm down, your arms wrapped themselves around him, wanting to be close to him as well, because no matter what, he was your biggest comfort and you still loved him.

“’m not going anywhere, kenji’. just… please don’t do that ever again”, you murmured against his temple.

“never.”

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hollandsmushroom · 3 years

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My Marks

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader AU: Frat!Tom Holland Word Count: 1,302 NSFW/SFW Summary: After a really rough day and the pain of wearing a bra Tom isn’t the biggest fan of the effects it has had on your body. A/N: Thank you so much to @spydeysense for being the person I could bounce ideas off of and for encouraging this fic last night. I loved writing this and knew i had to write it as soon as possible so here we are. Also thanks you for giving me the line “The only marks you should have are mine” Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI, Bras, fingering, smut, overwhelming fluff and soft Frat!Tom.

You felt exhausted, every muscle in your body drained of the energy that it had stored the previous night. Your day had been a schedule designed by Satan himself, slowly breaking you down throughout the day. You had been so comfortable in Tom’s arms when you woke up this morning, your brain fogged with the scent of him, his skin against your urging you to ignore your alarm that was sounding from the speaker of your phone. It was only when your 5 minutes to class alarm went off that you realized just how fucked you were. Scrambling out of your boyfriends bed and coming to the shit realization you hadn’t brought a change of clothes, leaving you without time to go back to your dorm and forcing you to settle on wearing yesterday's clothes, complete with the lacy bra that you had worn for yours and Tom’s adventures, but it wasn’t designed for long wear, only for the time it took your partner to take it off of you, but it was all you had. You slid the lace on your body, covering your distraught frame with one of Tom’s shirts and pants, running out the door without even a kiss on Tom’s cheek.

You got to class late, only to find the door locked, in a desperate attempt you texted a friend you knew always sat by the side of the lecture hall, hoping that the Prof’s back was turned and she would be able to sneak you in, and by the only god’s grace that day, she was. You later ended up questioning if actually going to class was a good thing, ending up sitting on one of the old wooden seats, shimmying to get comfortable resulting in a splinter in the back of your thigh, the sudden pain causing your leg to jolt, hitting the table next to you and knocking over an old coffee that someone had left there and spilling it across your lap. The liquid was cold and slightly sour but you didn’t have time to clean yourself up after class, having to rush yourself off to the Coffee shop that you worked at, only to be bombarded with rude customer after rude customer, your bra progressively digging farther and farther into your skin.

At the end of your shift you were on the verge of tears, more coffee tainting your outfit than had been this morning, your coworker having spilled a boiling hot cup of coffee on you and burning your skin but the shop was too busy for you to be able to fully deal with it. Your phone was filled with unanswered texts, ones that you really didn’t have the energy to answer, trudging back across campus to Tom’s frat house, not even bothering to go home, knowing that Tom would let you wear something of his, or something you knew he would much prefer, nothing at all.

You entered the run down house, the front door never being locked and passing multiple boys that were scattered throughout the communal rooms hiking up to the very top room of the house. Multiple flights of stairs and some nonchalant hellos later you entered your boyfriend's room, finding him sprawled out on his bed scrolling through his phone.

“You left without giving me a kiss” he pouted at you from behind the screen, his eyes widening as they fell upon you, throwing his phone to the side and standing up from his bed, quickly meeting you where you stood as you bag fell from your shoulder with a loud thud. “Baby?” his voice was much softer as he reached out to cup your cheek, thumbing away a tear that slipped out of the corner of your tired eye.

“Long day” you murmur under your breath, avoiding his eyes that searched for yours.

“Yeah, what can I do to help” no one else knew this side of him, the soft needy, easily made grumpy if denied the affection he wanted, side, you were the only one.

“Take my fucking bra off” you groaned, Tom’s touch only letting it dig farther into your skin.

“With pleasure” he smirks, earning him a light slap on the chest. “I’m kidding, here let me” he gripped the hem of your shirt, removing it from your body and letting him see the lace that adorned your skin, “Fuck, baby” he would have been turned on if he didn’t notice just how much the straps were digging into your skin, immediately sliding them off of your shoulders.

“I don’t like these” he spoke, tracing the faint burn and the indents on your skin, his fingers undoing the the clasp of the bra and letting it fall fully to the ground, ducking his head down and kissing the impressions on your skin “The only marks on your skin should be mine, baby” he hummed, his lips trailing up the column of your neck and sucking gently on the spot beneath your ear. His hands snuck around your front and cupped your sore breasts, tweaking your nipples playfully yet eliciting an exhausted moan from you. “I should replace them, shouldn’t I?” he asked the air, the rhetoric in his voice encouraging your continued silence.

“Tommy I’m too tired” you whispered as you felt your body melt into his touch, back relaxing into his front to the point where he was basically holding you up.

“Baby, you won’t need to do anything” his hips pressed into your ass and moved you towards the bed letting you fall back softly. He crawled over top of your shirtless body, kissing his way up to your lips, littering small purple marks along your stomach and breast, slipping his hand into the front of your pants and rubbing your rapidly wettening folds. The pad of his finger catching on your clit and rubbing over it gently. Your exhaustion was taking over, mixing with the pleasure that was rapidly expanding from your core, your nipples hardening as your blood began to pump more rapidly.

“Feel good, baby?” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

“So good Tommy” you whined, lazily grinding your hips against his hand.

“You gonna cum on my fingers, love? You gonna make my palm soaked as I suck pretty marks into your skin?” teeth pressing into your shoulder as he licked over the fresh marks, ones that he loved so much more than the pesky ones your bra gave you.

“Tommy, you’re gonna make me cum” you whimpered, body tensing as you rocked your hips upwards into him, your cunt clenching around nothing causing increased blood flow to the nub that Tom’s fingers were incessantly rubbing over.

“Yeah? Tell me how I make you feel baby, let me know how good I am”

“You make me feel like heaven, so good, Tom, so fucking good” you felt a fire ignite in the pit of your stomach, your toes curling into the soft duvet as you thrust your hips all the way into him, cumming on his hand as the last minute bit of energy left your body with a content and pleasurable moan. Your back collapsing onto the bed, fabric soft on your now over sensitive skin. Tom pulled the blanket over the both of you, pulling you into him as you began to fade off to sleep, only to be interrupted by the vibrations of his chest, his smooth voice reaching your ears.

“I don’t care if makes you late, I need you to give me a kiss before you leave, every morning”

“I will do my best, but Tom every morning? We don’t live together” you giggled, your eyes falling shut as you cuddled farther into his chest, nose nuzzling his smooth skin.

“Well we could” he hummed, nails scratching over your scalp. “I think I’d like that”

@thehumanistsdiary

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #frat!tom holland x reader #frat!tom holland #frat boys are my weakness #spiderman x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

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X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol)

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol)

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you?

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???)

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic

- ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!!

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha)

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

- remy rogue

🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence

baby u r my

ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it)

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents)

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do

birds of a feather motherfucker

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet)

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha)

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go”

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most.

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage)

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s p r e t t y solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D:

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!!

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all)

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol)

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

#x men evolution #x men #gambit #rogue x gambit #aaah this is like therapy for me... just dumping all my emotions into a tumblr post and then let them go into the ether #I am now wondering if I'm desperate enough to go all the way back to the x-men animated series (which I've never seen before!)#like am I willing to go there for more Contente. time will tell I suppose #happy tag #...this is very long #MAN why can't I channel this dumbass energy into fiction writing I'd get so much DONE

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hahanoiwont · 3 years

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Okay, hear me out: Sans gets a job as a physics professor on the surface.

I hear uni professors are super lazy.

okay tbh I think Sans would be like. a great and terrible professor. let us explore this idea let's play in this space

like his first year teaching. horrible. He's used to being a cryptic little gremlin and now he has to give away information? all of the time?? that's supposed to be a good thing??? no. He doesn't take it seriously and the students complain about how he's always late, his lectures are so obscure as to be meaningless, and he seems more interested in making fun of them than teaching.

Then I feel like maybe he gets a baby post-grad student who tracks him down from half a country away. They've read his extremely niche paper. It sneaks in clever but not mean-hearted academic mudslinging at the old stagnants in the field. It makes groundbreaking points from a unique perspective. It's positively made of jargon but the jargon is explained concisely and understandably. Baby postgrad has stars in their eyes--they had the exact same idea (it is not the exact same idea. but to their credit it is close and they would have gotten there if they knew more about magic) and he explained it so well. He's a genius, they say. Can they please sit in on one of his courses. any of his courses. They'll be a TA if he promises to read over this paper they've been writing, it's not done yet but they think it could really be something and he's the only person in the field to legitimize their theory...

Sans is not into this at all. He's a little weirded out, honestly. Or, he's trying to be. But also, he does remember being a baby physicist who wanted his physics idol to notice him...so sure, he'll throw them a bone. They can put in all of the work for organizing his classes and grading things and all, and he'll get coffee with them and talk theory once a week.

More fool him. Sans is microdosing on being a professor.

Baby grad student talks in their office hours about their "lecture hour" with prof sans and how he was actually just explaining something to do with... and to Sans's chagrin, people start actually attending his coffee hour. And then they start bringing their homework questions to coffee hour. And then x student has work but can y student record... and then Sans's lessons have just moved to a coffee shop. He is still teaching his class he's just not doing it when he's supposed to. There is an email chain going around with recordings for each lesson, and since Sans has never bothered with taking attendance, his coffee lessons quickly become his main curriculum, while his alleged lesson times are just times when his TA previews the material with the students and Sans makes jokes.

Reviews become mixed. About 6 students swear by his classes and will rearrange their schedules any which way to be in his class next semester. At least a dozen have dropped his class and refuse to take another from him. Baby grad student is actually getting somewhere with their research, which Sans absolutely did not expect. He starts actually using the lab time he was given to work with them on that, and since everyone knows prof sans doesn't care if you walk in or out of his classes, a couple of undergrads filter in to poke at diagrams and try to understand what's being said...boom. lab section of the course. It's not remotely covering the same information as, say, physics 101, but the students are getting experience and gaining confidence in a lab environment. And you're only allowed to skip lab safety if you have a provable ability to evade or survive multiple kinds of explosion and acid burns, so they learn lab safety, too.

I feel like at this point Sans's classes are less actual courses and more really informative interest clubs that students join for credit. You sign up, disregard the course information listed, and if you ask leading questions he might explain a particular theory or branch of pretty much any scientific discipline (since monsters have like 3 scientists, they try to cover everything). This works great until Sans gets annoyed with having to explain calc 2 a million times because someone has obviously failed in educating his undergrads. It's just in the name of efficiency and therefore laziness that Sans proposes a remedial study group.

So. Twice a week, prof Sans will teach physics 101, and once a week a rotating schedule of math, chemistry, or a handful of other subjects on request. If nothing is requested, he will do stand-up or magic tricks for 2 straight hours and then go home. (sometimes students organize and agree to not prompt him for anything so that they can see the show. it's pretty good stand-up and very good magic tricks). Twice a week, his undergrad duckling will cover mostly remedial calc and help with homework for whatever science/math class they can. Baby undergrad is finally hired by the school and no longer paid in food and research tips (some of which are cash but most of which are advice) from Sans. Sans is still allegedly teaching several courses, which he usually covers the material of; but only when cornered, bribed with coffee, or at the expense of one (1) joke. Most of his classes are just study groups under his or their own loose direction.

Strangely, this does seem to help students discover their own interest in the material, since it feels much more based in what they want to learn (because they have to put so much effort into getting their professor to actually teach them). Students take his courses for a laid-back semester, but actually end up learning a lot of diverse skills and shortcuts in a variety of fields. Sans is absolutely not preparing them for any kind of curriculum, but he is creating baby scientists in much the same way as he was taught--here is All of Science, what do you want to learn? We'll fill in the backlog of what you need to know as it comes up.

Magic allows for fascinating demonstrations, not only of how things work, but how it would look if it didn't work, or worked differently. Gravity is a universal favorite because Sans will sometimes let students jump from irresponsible heights and experience zero gravity for a while. Conservation of mass and energy has him summoning things out of thin air. When astronomy comes up, he'll take them out and let them use his own telescope to see exactly how this theory was first observed, or what it looks like when that theory comes into play in such and such a way. So Sans does not get fired for being a horrible professor. It's generally understood that any freshman who took Physics 101 with Professor sans M.S. may not have any idea what they were supposed to learn, but he turns out competent scientists who are willing to testify that he's the best thing that's ever happened to their science education.

Anyway I think Sans would end up as a wonderful professor--despite his best efforts.

#undertale #headcanon #i got carried away lol #i think sans has good stage presence and could be good at teaching #but i absolutely do not think he would stick to a curriculum unless it directly inconvenienced him that his students don't know things

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drjackandmissjo · 3 years

Text

it’s nice to have a friend

previous chapter --- chapter 7 --- next chapter

feysand masterlist

“Call my bluff, Call you ‘babe’“

It had been a fairly long day for Feyre. She had to organise a new collection for her gallery, dealing with things like catering for the event and security and insurances on the pieces that had to be exposed. Her assistant Ressina was searching for two more artworks, since two of her own paintings that she was supposed to showcase had been just bought.

The website Azriel had built for her gallery had been a complete success since the opening day, through it Feyre had managed to sell almost all of her creations and many of those that she presented through the gallery itself, reaching the proper audience even outside of Prythian. Paying for international shipping was her new most hated activity, but she couldn't complain.

In the few years since she had graduated and started business for herself, she had made a name for herself. Her junior and last year of university had given her the opportunity to internship in one of the best art museums in Velaris, where she learnt the importance of good displays and how to haggle the right price for each piece. During that time she mostly painted for commissions, which she continued to take now, five years later, with the only difference being that now a 'Feyre A.N.' costed much more than in her early days. Even those she created freely, out of her own heart's desires, were being sold at fairly high prices with a surprisingly high rate.

So now she had to look and scout for new artists to display, considering the current shortage of her own artworks. It all brought a whole new sense of responsibility to Feyre and a whole lot of paperwork she wasn't particularly fond of. She was everyday grateful of her choice of hiring an assistant, even if at the beginning she was a bit sceptical.

Thankfully, Velaris was the best place in the entire world to be an artist, a safe haven: the city had an entire neighborhood, the Rainbow, fully inhabited by writers and sculptors and poets and painters, with several theatres and galleries and museums. Feyre had chosen to open shop there, in one of the main streets and it had been a glorious success since the inauguration. The artists that made the community had welcomed her warmly and with open arms, helping her get on her own feet at the start with their support, and now she was repaying them in kind, offering opportunities to anyone who might need them.

Her originally rented space now fully belonged to her, having been bought two years after the opening with the money her hard work brought. She had fallen in love with the locale in an heartbeat, as she walked the Rainbow hand in hand with her boyfriend as he helped her carry back to her place bags full of paint and canvases. Feyre had stopped dead in her tracks, as if called by it, declaring it the perfect spot. Rhys had laughed at her and kissed the top of her head, telling her how she should take the number of the owner and contact them to see if she could rent. Being fresh out of college meant she didn't have enough funds to do more, but one day, Rhys had said, it could've been hers.

The old lady who owned the space had been ecstatic with her call and heard her ideas with interest. The rent was decent, given the great metrage and locations, but the place was new and needed little to no modifications, and thus 'Starfall ' gallery was born.

When her clock chimed, telling her the time, she slowly rose from her chair, stretching her sore back. The new tattoo she had gotten three weeks prior on her spine still hadn't healed fully, causing her some wincing that her husband was constantly worried of. The long piece was a masterpiece on its own, the longline depicting the different lunar phases she had drawn herself.

Deciding to call it a day, she gathered her stuff and closed the lights, locking the door on her way out. Despite it being mid-October, the weather was still pleasantly warm even during the evening, and Feyre enjoyed walking alongside of the Sidra quietly as the wind quietly messed her hair. She and Rhys had bought a townhouse on the other side of the river before their wedding, close enough to be able to walk to their respective workplaces, she to the Rainbow while he went back to the university, teaching English poetry and drama, as he had chosen that specific minor on his senior year.

Although they had a similar commute, the different paths had Rhys always beat her to the rush home and he started usually dinner, as she was downright cursed with her cooking inhabilities. Even helping in the kitchen was something she did carefully, her and her husband both weary of the outcomes. The only thing she could do safely from 'scratch' was to heat up soup.

A wicked plan began to outline itself in her mind. It had been awhile since she had humoured her husband, both too focused on their respective works. She moved in the upstair bedroom they shared, removing her proper attire to slip into a severely more comfortable pair of leggings and a worn out t-shirt, covered in blue paint of every shade. " This is gonna be fun" she thought, delighted in the possible turn of events as she rang up his favourite Chinese restaurant to order take-out to be delivered.

And then she set to 'work'.

***

As soon as she felt the front door open, Feyre moved swiftly to rotate the timer on the oven and made it set off immediately. She knew Rhys had heard the little series of noises that signaled the end of a cooking process. He usually would discard his keys on the small table that decorated their tiny foyer as soon as the door closed behind him, but this time he was stalling.

Probably debating whether to retreat back outside in case the kitchen exploded or not.

The problem wasn't that she was a bad cook perse. Feyre never had much time playing around the stove growing up, thankfully for them Elain was the chef of the household. She had learnt the basics, how to boil water for instant cheap ramen noodles and how to heat up frozen pre-cooked stuff in the microwave of the communal kitchen of her dorm on her first month in Velaris, with Alis patiently telling her what to do to survive in case there was an emergency. During the years she had tried a little more, once she moved with Amren and Mor and had a kitchen at her disposal without limitations.

Her first attempt at scrambling eggs for breakfast set the fire alarm off and she had to explain to an exasperated fireman that the house wasn't on fire. That earned her a wary look from her roommates, but considering that neither of them had any luck with cooking, no one spoke of it for the following week.

Her second one brought a weird texture of a pasture looking like brown instead of the expected yellow, completely stuck at the bottom of the pan. Not burnt, simply attached there and impossible to remove. She then went to buy a new set, throwing the mystery pan immediately in the trash.

Cassin was with her for her third trial, to guide her into the mystical art he had mastered, and made her solemnly swear to never, ever , again touch a kitchen utensil if not with the sole purpose to eat with it, and even then he had some serious doubts about letting her anywhere near anything inside a kitchen. She wasn't allowed to be there unsupervised, he had said, scared shitless.

So the problem wasn't inside her cooking abilities, since she made the best sandwiches out of anyone in the Inner Circle, but rather her rotten luck an inability not to burn anything that involved heat or patience to be made.

A smile appeared on Feyre's lips as she suppressed a series of giggles that were threatening to rise up, imagining the face her husband was surely making. The sounds from the foyer told her two things: the door had been closed and remained unlocked, ready to aid in their escape from a fire that Rhysand thought undoubtedly might happen any minute, and her husband was taking his time through his routine, as if a minimal change in the air might've triggered the self destruction of their home.

"Darling?" he called for her as he made his way through the open space of the living room to reach for the kitchen, cautiously stopping before properly entering the room and setting off something.

Feyre immediately turned around, her light brown hair neatly folded in a messy bun swinging to the side and promptly losing some strands that fell into her face. She found him leaning against the doorframe, seemingly relaxed were it not for the fact he was hiding his hands inside the pockets of his black pants. Her genuine smile seemed to ease his stance and Rhys took the opportunity to move towards her. She turned back at the task at hand as he walked past the island, using her knife to cut an apple into tiny slices. His arms came to encircle her, effectively pinning her against the counter, and she leaned back, resting her head on his chest.

"How was work today?" she asked, warmth radiating through her as he bent down to place a soft kiss to the top of her head. For someone who thought the stove might explode at any minute, he was incredibly calm with the whole ordeal.

"The usual" he shrugged "some kid had the audacity to groan when I told them we would soon start with Shakespeare's Sonnets!"

One of the many things she utterly loved about him was how passionate he was for his job, for the curriculum he got to teach each class. Overall, his favourite subject was Shakespeare, on whom he did his dissertation which got him the place at the University. He still kept on writing, publishing mostly the new researches his department did, and he worked with all his heart.

Feyre shook her head slightly, "Kids this day have no respect." Then, in afterthought, she added "Are you going to downplay the whole homoerotic full blown text like our old prof did?"

"Are you crazy? That's the best part!" His grip tightened around her as she set the knife down, wiping her hands on a nearby handchendief. "I'm thinking about letting those freshmans do their winter final paper on who they actually thought Good Ol' Willy was shagging."

"Professor Carver might object." she said, turning in his arms and now facing him, her back against the cold material of the counter.

"Who do you think I got the idea from? That man wants nothing more than to gossip, even if it's 500 years old stuff."

"Remember how he was somehow the first person outside our Inner Circle to know we were dating when we came back?" They both laughed at the memory, noses brushing softly as they were both content to remain there.

"How was your day?" he asked, his breath caressing her neck gently.

"Too much paperwork. But I sold that Springtime painting we both didn't like to probably the most horrible and rude woman ever."

The woman had truly been a demon: she had stormed in as if she owned the place, demanding attention. Ressina had been patient and listened to her raging nonsense as best as she could, but couldn't do much herself. Feyre then went into her aid: she had past experience dealing with bad customers from when she used to be a waitress in high school, yet this woman took the cake. lanthe Spring, as she had proudly introduced herself as if she was the most important person in the world, was looking for a present for her husband, she had told her while raising the most preposterous ring to ever been made. The green gems looked more like a torture device than a wedding ring, but Feyre didn't usually judge. After an entire hour looking at the catalogue, her eyes had set on one of the paintings Feyre had done way back in her freshman year. She had finally gotten the approval from the art department to sell the early works she had done during her period there and the majority had either already been sold or she had gifted to her family and friends. That was the last one to remain in Feyre's possession, probably the laziest work she had ever done: the colours well dull, the motif unclear; despite it showing a green and flowery scenery, it resembled much more a dead nature. She hadn't been in the best mindset when the work had come to life, her constant fights with Tamlin causing an artist block on all her works, yet the woman had been ecstatic, claiming it reminded her of her own husband.

Feyre didn't make the connection until she saw the checkbook, yet no feeling came to her, good nor bad. She would've liked to know his reaction at seeing her painting though, just to get some sick and twisted satisfaction at how she was thriving with only her 'hobby' . "But I got a nice cut from that, so dinner's on me!" she finished lightly, pulling herself from her daydream.

"I know exactly what you're doing, Feyre Darling." he hummed from her neck, as he drew his lips across the skin. Suddenly she was finding it hard to concentrate. "I have no idea of what you're talking about, Rhysand."

He pulled back abruptly, moving their bodies till she was now leaning against the empty and clean kitchen island. "Your attempt at scaring me almost worked, you know?" he whispered against her ear, moving to nibble at the soft flesh, "But next time make a little mess with some flour all around if you want to truly give me a heart attack."

"But you see," she started, trying to sort her foggy thoughts as the world narrowed to where his lips were against her neck once more, "I'd have to take you to the ER then and that's too much work, babe." She was breathless, sick of the attention her neck was getting. Hands plunged in his hair, positioning him flush against her as her lips claimed his, his own hands roaming freely under her T-shirt.

He suddenly pulled away slightly, eyes never leaving hers and not bothering to remove his hands from where they rested on her back, slowly working the clasps of her bra. "Not to mention you don't even know where to find most things that aren't downright edible without preparation in our pantry, am I correct?"

She brought him back down in an instant, "Arrogant prick" she murmured against his lips as she began to undo the button of his shirt, their hips moving in sync as their lips.

He hoisted her up on the island counter in one swift move as she took the shirt off of his shoulders, caressing the inky swirls of his traditional lilynian tattoo that adorned his upper torso. He immediately returned the favour, removing her tee and bra in one swipe, moving his attention fully to the newly exposed skin, biting and nipping there. Her grip on his hair became iron as his hands darthed southward, his own wedding band cold against her feverish skin as his mouth drew circles around her breast. He began to slowly slid off her leggings, never once removing his mouth from her, when the doorbell rang.

A string of colourful profanities that could've rivaled a sailor's entire vocabulary made its way out of Feyre's mouth as her husband merely laughed at their interrupted moment.

"I've ordered Chinese" was the only non-curse Feyre spoke as she jumped of the counter, grabbing her t-shirt to answer the door at least decent.

"I was indeed promised dinner" Rhys said, not bothering to cover himself as his wife paid for the food.

"I still got you there for a second, didn't l?" she asked, walking back to the kitchen carrying two bags.

Rhys kissed her cheek sweetly, "Always, my Darling."

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teriwrites · 3 years

Text

the big manuscript search tag

I’m compiling a bunch of different tags from @cecilsstorycorner and @akindofmagictoo so this might be a long one!

My words to find: lonely, cup, drown, routine, deep, feather, rich, contact, kick, sun, pair, whisper, king, chord, chip, prove, mix, spin, water, color, need, fade, everyday

...yeah, that’s really long, so I’m going to throw the results in a read more to spare all your feeds from a wall of text

There’s a few words that don’t appear in one project or another, so I’m going to use both Castle on the Hill and Beneath Alder Creek! Because of that, the order won’t be quite the same

Castle on the Hill:

Lonely:

For the first day of break, Hans spent the entire day lounging around his house. His mother said nothing about it, except to suggest moving to a new spot every few hours so that he wouldn’t cramp up. She was in and out of the house a lot, which Hans took as a good sign. The harder days were those in which his mother spent most of it upstairs, locked away in her room. Hans had been allowed to join her, if he wished, but he’d preferred not to see her in such a state. Still, it had led to many a lonely afternoon.

Cup:

The following morning, Peter made the short trek over to the familiar cafe for his second date with Ursula. Despite having left five minutes early, Peter arrived to find Ursula already waiting at a table, with a cup of coffee in hand. He beelined for the table and tossed his blazer onto the back of the chair across from her. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” “No worries, I enjoyed the walk,” Ursula said brightly.

Drown:

“You seemed pretty smitten with this tutor girl,” Peter mused. The sounds of a dramatic breakup on the television nearly drowned him out. He fished the remote from the coffee table and muted the television. Klaus looked between Peter and Georg, who were both sending him matching smug expressions. Georg dramatically batted his eyes at Klaus, who shoved him in the shoulder and nearly sent him toppling over the side of the couch. “Come off it,” he dismissed with a snort. “I barely know her. She’s a fox, sure, but I’m not going to lose my head over a girl I’ve met once. Klaus Müller is always on the make.” Georg leaned forwards to look at Peter. “He’s speaking in the third person again.”

Routine:

“Alrighty, now that that’s out of the way, who wants to tell me what year the European Economic Community was established?” Prof. Dietrich asked brightly, shifting back into his regular routine of starting a lecture with an oral quiz. Josef avoided the man’s eye contact, choosing instead to pretend to be desperately jotting down notes. “Herr Weber? How about you give it a shot?”

Feather:

The rest of the class shifted their attention back to the lecture, but Josef’s face flushed as he fished out his notebook from his bag. He could practically hear the stories that would be circulating later. Josef Weber, the snobby inheritor to his father’s auto company, got scolded in front of a whole class. Wouldn’t that just put a feather in quite a few caps?

Rich:

“Tell me why I didn’t decide to work as a janitor,” Klaus muttered. “You’d never succeed as a janitor; you never even had to clean your own messes growing up.” One of Klaus’ arms snapped forwards and a smack that was aiming for Georg’s shoulder instead slapped smartly against the wooden back of his chair. With a sharp intake of breath, Klaus straightened in his seat. As he rubbed at his knuckles, Klaus shot back, “That’s rich, coming from a lawyer’s son.”

Chord:

“It’s a little complicated right now,” Hans said calmly. “Look, I’ve talked it all over with my mother, and she agreed that it would be best for me to stay here. It’s not that long, Josef, don’t look at me like that.” The doubt etched into Josef’s features was enough to warrant the comment, and he shook his head to try clearing it. Nothing in Hans’ demeanor pointed towards it being a lie, but something in the idea struck a false chord in him.

Water:

Though he'd managed to subdue most of his panic, Peter felt it all rushing back. A sudden pain at his hand drew him out of his thoughts, and he realized that he'd been aggressively stirring the pasta, and some of the water had splashed out of the pot.

Fade(d):

As Hans spoke, Professor Abend’s face lit up with recognition, which quickly faded into a solemn mourning. The exam lay on the desk between the two, forgotten. “I knew I had a Faust in one of my classes, but I never thought to make a connection,” Professor Abend said in a low voice.

Beneath Alder Creek:

Deep:

A deep breath, and then Winnie followed through, dragging her other foot into the creek. The water rose halfway up her calf, and continued to rise as she made her way forwards. To her thigh, then her hip, and finally up to her waist. It was the second dress she’d soaked that day, Winnie thought with a wry smile, and, in her distraction, she failed to notice a large rock in the creek bed. It could hardly be considered a fall. Winnie pitched forwards, plunging her face into the creek for only a moment before she caught her balance and straightened up. But she’d opened her mouth as she tripped, and her rise was met with a violent coughing fit. Loose strands of hair clung to her face, making it impossible to see, and Winnie pushed forwards carefully by feeling along the bottom with her foot. The progression was slow, but Alder Creek was by no means wide, and it wasn’t long before Winnie found the water beginning to ebb away. As she pulled herself out of the creek, Winnie brushed the hair from her face and finally opened her eyes. Looking to where she��d seen the fairy ring, she froze.

Contact(ing):

Contacting the fae was no easy feat; they only made appearances of their own volition, not subscribing to any convenient timetable. While it was said that certain holidays brought the mortal world closer to their realm, years had passed before any signs revealed their presence. By then, the couple had been so eager that they’d wasted no time in seeking out a deal. They were the fourth and fifth victims within the fifteen years. Nobody had been so hasty since.

Kick(ing):

Back into the bog. Winnie no longer worried herself with her skirts, allowing them to drag through the stagnant water. It was a mistake, she soon discovered, as the drenched fabric weighed her down and made the progress even slower. With an exasperated groan, she stomped at the ground, kicking up a spray and lodging her boot into the mud.

Sun:

Time steadily passed as they traveled, though how quickly or slowly it went by, Winnie couldn’t say. She could feel the blisters beginning to form on her feet, the slight ache in her shoulders where she’d slung her bag, the warmth that spread across her back as the sun’s ceaseless rays washed over them. When she fell slightly behind Taliesin, he was shining so brightly that her eyes began to burn, and she had to quicken her pace to keep in step with him.

Pair:

The first thing Winnie noticed was the boat they were standing in. It was like a skiff, sitting low in the water and directed by a pair of oars. The figure rowing seemed to be wearing some type of headgear, a hazy and elongated shape still a little too far to make out. Taliesin moved back from the shore, forcing Winnie to do the same to provide space for the skiff to breach.

Whisper:

“Don’t stare,” Taliesin reminded her in a whisper. He raised a hand in greeting, and the figure dipped their head slightly, though how they could’ve seen it without eyes, Winnie couldn’t say. “Hail, Ferryman!”

Prove(n):

Turning away from the Llion, the group soon found themselves returning once more to the thick fog of the wetlands. Winnie took the middle, knowing better than to have Taliesin and Enid side-by-side. In one hand, she took the long sleeve of Enid’s robes, and in the other, Taliesin’s cloak. He dragged his feet the whole time, still sulking, and it took all of Winnie’s self-restraint not to let go and leave him behind as punishment for his pettiness. Being proven wrong did not suit the golden man.

Mix(ed):

It was nearly a week later when Winnie found herself back at Alder Creek. The water level had dipped back to its usual shallows, which lazily drifted by. Winnie could see her face reflected as she stared down, features blurred in its [flowing surface]. The hem of her skirt had dipped into the water, which lapped at Winnie’s bare feet. Her shoes were somewhere behind her, abandoned, a sign of her troubled mind. For the most part, Winnie had abandoned the practice of walking about barefoot - how her mother would’ve shouted if she’d seen her. The thought of her mother brought a fresh wave of mixed humiliation and frustration as the events of the day replayed through her mind.

Spin:

A light flickered in the trees. When Winnie looked up, she stared at the sight. Taliesin was crouching on a branch, catlike, with his hands holding the branch between his feet. Somehow, he did not sway but remained perfectly still, patiently watching Winnie spin in circles to look for him, all with an amused half-smile.

Color(s):

The opening of the cavern shifted through several colors, like an ever-changing kaleidoscope of light through a prism.

Need:

She offered Enid no response, so after a stretch of silence, the statuesque woman continued. “This is out of some attachment to the Dusk fellow, then.” Winnie bristled at her tone. “Of course it’s not. I merely need him to ensure that my brother and I are able to depart the Fae safely.”

Not found:

King (Apparently my writing does not support monarchies lol)

Chip

Everyday

This was excessively long, so I’m going to leave it an open tag. The words for anyone who feels like it are king, chip, and everyday because I’m sure somebody out there has them, even if I don’t.

#tag game

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casshasfangs · 4 years

Text

Cassius Halestorm's life was now divided into two sections: Pre-Stevie Nicks, and Post-Stevie Nicks. Of course, Pre-Stevie Cass had cared immensely about the band and put time and effort into making things sound good, but after the White Witch herself had written them a letter, things kind of blew up. They had to redirect fan mail to Piper, because the school owls were getting frustrated. The Slytherins were getting mad at him because Gryffindor first years kept trying to sneak into his dorm. Piper was owling them albums to sign, for fuck's sake. And then there was the practice, the writing the furious injection of energy that the illustrious Stevie Nicks had thrust into the band. It was exhausting. Like the recording day, but every day.

So, when Cass crashed at night, he crashed hard. He was asleep by ten, which never happened, only because Shosh had the foresight to let him feed before practice that night instead of after. Even so, Cass was exhausted when he felt someone shoving his shoulder in the early hours of the morning.

Cass started, squinting as his assailant pointed his wand in Cass's face, the bright light blinding him. "Merlin's beard, can you fuck off? Put that light out."

The prefect pursed his lips, then shoved Cass again. "Professor Izaak needs to see you. Come on, put your shoes on."

"What? Why? What time is it?" Cass grumbled, still groggy as he rolled over in bed, convinced this was a prank from jealous Slytherins who were sick of the aforementioned first years.

"It's 3am, so you best not keep me up anymore, you prat." His roommate waved his wand and Cass's blanket was stripped off him. Cass literally growled and then leaned down to shove his feet in his converse sleepily. He was already wearing a band shirt and his flannel pyjama pants. He couldnt be arsed changing just for a prank.

He followed his roommate out to the common room, and Cass yawned as he walked out of the dungeon, covering his mouth and pausing, freezing in his tracks when he realised that this wasn't a prank. Professor Izaak stood at the entry to the Slytherin common room. It was odd seeing him in casual robes.

"Professor?" Cass was wary when he noticed another witch with him. She wore auror's robes- and had a look about her that Cass was certain he'd seen her somewhere before. In the paper? With his Dad? "Professor what's going on?"

"Evening, Cass," His Head of House looked more scruffy than usual, like a late evening shadow had appeared on his face. It made Cass uncomfortable, because Professor Izaak was always so put together. "The Headmistress needs to see you in her office, she's asked me to take you there now."

And then they left, with no mention of why the auror followed them. Cass kept looking at her out the corner of his eye, still slightly dazed from just being woken. He swallowed as he walked, trying hard to keep calm. They knew he was feeding from Shosh, surely that was it. Or that he hadn't signed his Census. They knew and he was getting thrown into Azkaban late at night. What would happen to the band? To his guitars? Who would tell Shosh? His Dad?

All of this fretting built as Cass was led up to the Professor McGonagall's office, and Cass heard the heartbeats of more humans than just his Headmistress. No, there were... Five people in her office.

Cass swallowed, panic rising in him. The only calm constant he had was Professor Izaak, who he was certain would not lead him into danger so calmly. He'd been one of Cass's strongest advocates since day one.

This anxiety was not abated, though, when he was led into the room and realised that three of the people in the room were also aurors. Four, when you counted the one who had been following them. The auror at the door was particularly intimidating when gangly, awkward, pale Cass passed by him, about half the man's size. They were going to take him to Azkaban. He was done for. This was it.

He paled when Professor McGonagall turned, stepping towards her desk, revealing the other adult in the room.

Duncan Armstrong.

The Minister for fucking Magic.

"Thank you for fetching him, Gerolt. Take a seat, Mister Halestorm." His Headmistress said, and Cass blinked, nodding mutely.

Cass's knees practically knocked as he moved to the indicated seat and sunk into it.

He wondered if maybe he should apologise, if admitting anything outright might win him some favour, or if he should go down denying that he’d ever fed from Shosh. Maybe he’d get some sympathy if he explained what happened with Pomonia. The Slytherin swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked between the adults in the room, eyes wide and terrified as they watched him.

The Headmistress spoke again, her tone unchanging from when she’d spoken earlier. “I’m afraid there is no easy way to deliver this news, Mister Halestorm, but it has come to our attention that your father has been the victim of a fatal attack on his return home from the Ministry. I’m very sorry you had to be told in such a manner but we thought it prudent you be made aware immediately.”

Cass blinked. What?

Maybe stunned silence wasn’t the reaction she had been expecting, because McGonagall pursed her lips into a very thin line as she informed him, “The Minister insisted he come and inform you directly.”

Cass was still staring straight ahead. What? What had she said? His father? Fatal attack? He blinked drearily, watching through hooded eyes as the Minister stepped forward, pulling his shoulders back. “Thank you, Headmistress. Cassius, I would, if I may, express my deepest sympathies to you. Your father and I have been working very closely over the past year and I am shocked that such a thing has occurred; rest assured when I tell you that we are doing everything we can to find out who is responsible. I also want you to know, from myself directly, that I’m willing to make this time for you as comfortable as I can. I’ll admit that I feel partly responsible, what with it happening so closely to the Ministry itself, but I feel obligated to your father to offer as much support to you as I can."

The boy frowned at the floor, and tilted his head. Partly responsible. The Minister for Magic felt partly responsible for what had happened? Not because he did nothing but fueled the flames of hatred that had been burning brighter than ever- but because apparently his Dad had been murdered in a politically inconvenient location. The first emotion Cass felt since he’d heard the news ripped through him as he looked up, gaze teary and hot and angry. The feeling didn’t go through to his voice, apparently, because it was flat and monotone by the time Cass looked up at the politician. “You are… Completely responsible. You did this. You want us to register like fucking dogs? You practically put the stake in their hand.”

Heightened by the intense feelings he was experiencing, Cass heard the soft footsteps of his Head of House behind him. Professor Izaäk cleared his throat, eyeing the aurors carefully. Cass was not usually this brash- but the Minister had brought his personal aurors for a reason. They thought the boy was a threat. It was written all over Mirilla’s face and countenance. She had not moved from her position behind the Minister, but she also hadn’t moved her eyes off Cass. Watching him like he could lash out at any moment. Cass was oblivious to it.

It physically ached him when the Minister continued to speak. “I understand your frustration, Cassius, but your father and I were working to come to an agreement about the new regulations. It’s one of the reasons why it’s been taking so long; I wanted to be confident he was happy with the proposal before we moved forward with any action.” Cass closed his eyes and curled inward, trying desperately to continue breathing. His chest had started to ache- and every word from this man was twisting in his chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.

There’s silence for a moment, and Cass can sense them all watching him. The sound of so many heartbeats echoing in the room was maddening, so the teen opened his eyes and looked around. His Head of House was watching him with a soft, sympathetic look. Professor McGonagall was stoic as always, unreadable. It was a comfort to have nothing change. "How did this happen? He… he was staked, right? There's no other way. Who.. What happens now?" Cass asked his teachers, looking between them.

His shoulders hunched when Professor Izaäk opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the Minister. It hurt. It hurt so badly that Cass could barely comprehend what he was saying. Tears gathered in his eyes. “We’re not sure who is responsible, but I can promise you I have my very best from the Ministry’s Law Enforcement investigating the incident as we speak. As for our next move, our,” He gestured around the room while Professor McGonagall conjured a tissue, and Professor Izaäk brought it forward for the boy. Cass bunched it in his hand, almost like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “biggest concern is your safety. I’ve some arrangements to make with Professor McGonagall - should you allow it, Headmistress - in regards to a few things we could do--”

“My safety? Why wouldn’t I be safe here? This is Hogwarts.” He frowns, his voice quiet and low. “I don’t want any arrangements. I wanna see my dad.” He says the last bit quietly, self-conscious now he’s noticed the aurors staring at him. “Can I see him? I’ve got.. There are things I’ve gotta…” He looks back at Prof Izaäk hoping for any kind of back up.

“We’ll sort that out for you, Cass, don’t worry.” The man said, giving him a reassuring nod.

The Slytherin was looking to him for that reassurance that they’d be able to do what needed to be done, when the Minister spoke again. “It’s better to be safe than sorry, Cassius—”

“There is no obligation, Mister Halestorm, to assume a regular school week. Should you wish to have the rest of the week absent from lessons, we would be happy to oblige...” The Scottish woman said clearly, having had rather enough of the Minister’s tone-deaf nonsense. She continued speaking, interrupting the Minister whenever he chose to open his mouth. Cass didn’t absorb most of it, honestly. She was talking about bereavement leave and who he could speak to, where he could go. A Professor being available to take him home, he could choose to bring a friend to support him, if their family gave permission. All he had to do was ask.

Cass nodded mutely, looking up and sniffling as he realised that despite being in a room full of people, he was completely and utterly alone.

#drabble #death for tw #henry

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eldri-sv · 3 years

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26 - Aizawa

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people’s minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa’s TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country…

Deep down we both knew it was trouble by design

(Cage The Elephant - Too Late To Say Goodbye)

Shouta Aizawa gave Tsukauchi a long hard look. He really couldn't believe this man sometimes. Sure, he was doing his job well and all, but he just kept having terrible ideas, like waking him up in the middle of the night with a phone call, just so he could head out to a crime scene and have a look at it, when he could just gather the same information from a well-made report. (Sometimes Aizawa suspected he didn't trust people with writing good reports, but that was a story for another day.) Or that thing he just suggested about Kaori Shinsou.

"Are you being serious right now?" Aizawa asked him, pretty sure that he was trying to play some sort of prank on him.

"Of course! I've seen her work on two different cases now and she has been brilliant. Would be a shame to let her waste away at the Hosu City department. Or have her go back to Tartarus next term." Tsukauchi replied. Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Look, I get it. She's really good at this and by all means, she should get to work in a higher ranking job. But Tsukauchi, have you looked at her? That girl has been doing night shift after night shift in Hosu, then she goes to university and then straight back to work. I've seen her asleep in the damn library, Tsukauchi! She needs a fucking break." he explained. Tsukauchi nodded quickly.

"Of course, of course, I'm not saying she should come here and intern with us right away. I'll have to look at a ton of paperwork for that anyway, and obviously she'd have to agree to it. We'd give her some time off, especially during exams. But she'd be able to work on high profile cases, instead of some teenagers burning stuff in trash cans. Think about it." Tsukauchi said.

Of course he was right. He had a very valid point. It would be a shame to waste Shinsou's talent when it came to criminal psychology with her staying in the Hosu City department. She would have much more room to grow if she was interning with and working for the National Police Department.

But Shinsou already had no idea what a healthy work-life balance meant. Aizawa knew she didn't, because he was the same. And while he loved his job as a teacher and part-time criminal psychologist for the National Police Department, he also knew that it sucked getting that little sleep and being under the kind of high pressure that these kinds of cases brought with them.

"I mean, in the end it will be her decision. But I don't think it's a good idea. She's overworking herself as it is. There were several times during the last few weeks when she just collapsed from exhaustion. This already isn't healthy for her. Now imagine Shinsou getting to work for a much bigger organization - she'd work herself to death because she felt she had to." Aizawa replied.

"Sounds like someone I know." Tsukauchi told him with a smile.

"Exactly. And that's why I know she'd get much more stressed than she already is. I know I am stressing myself more than is good for me."

"Well, have you considered that the two of you would be working together? Which means you would both technically have a smaller workload and that benefits both you and her. Plus, that way you can still have an eye on her and make sure she gets some time off, if that's so important to you." Tsukauchi said.

Aizawa had to admit he hadn't thought about that. It could possibly even convince him. But there was no way he'd admit that to Tsukauchi. Thinking about it, he quite liked the idea of being able to work with Shinsou. After all, he had been itching to show her some of the confidential files on the Stain case, just to be able to get her perspective. Aizawa didn't like working closely with people, but he could imagine working with Kaori Shinsou. He sighed. Tsukauchi had already won.

"Well, go and suggest it to her. I still don't think it's the best idea, but in the end it is her decision. And I agree, it would be nice to get her somewhere higher up than the Hosu Department." Aizawa finally said. Tsukauchi gave him a knowing smile and got up from his chair in the school cafeteria.

"Sounds good to me, then. I'll get the paperwork in order and then I can hopefully see her about it sometime next week. I'd like to get her on for interviewing Stain by any means." Tsukauchi replied.

"That would be a good idea, she's been following that case since forever. She's obsessed with it. Anyway, get your paperwork done and then see if she wants to do it or not." Aizawa mumbled.

He still didn't quite feel alright with that decision, but there was nothing he could do either way. Tsukauchi had come to him to test the waters and see what he had to say about her academic abilities. And those were as good as they could possibly be. He had nothing bad to say about Shinsou.

"Oh yeah, before I leave. The two of you might want to be a little more discreet with... whatever it is that's going on between you." Tsukauchi said and winked at him. Aizawa gave him a confused look.

"What?" he asked, not expecting to hear anything like that. Of course he had heard of the stupid rumours, but he had never paid them much mind. To him they were just that - stupid rumours.

"I don't know if there is anything going on between you and Shinsou, but there are rumours. And it is quite obvious that you are... fond of her." Tsukauchi replied. Aizawa was completely dumbfounded by this. He had never expected anyone to bring this up to his actual face. Yes, he was fond of Shinsou. He liked her, there was no point denying it. And there was also no point denying that she was an attractive young woman. But there was absolutely nothing going on.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but there is really nothing going on..." Aizawa started, but Tsukauchi interrupted him.

"Look, I really don't care. I'm just saying this as a friend. People get certain impressions, that's all I'm saying."

And with that Tsukauchi left. Aizawa had no idea how to react to any of that. He had always thought that all those rumours were somewhat ridiculous. There was absolutely no substance to this. But now Tsukauchi had him second-guessing himself. What if there was anything inappropriate between them?

It wasn't like anything they'd do would be illegal, but it would surely be against school policy if they were having an affair of any sort. Especially as long as Shinsou was in his course. An image got conjured up in his mind of Kaori Shinsou in one of her short skirts and her knee socks on, sitting on the heavy oak desk in his office, leaning back, legs spread wide, looking at him with those lascivious eyes and...

Fuck. Where the hell did that come from? Aizawa was trying to tell himself that it was only because of what Tsukauchi had insinuated that he had just been thinking about that, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he definitely had a thing for Shinsou - he had just been suppressing it, because... well, because he was her professor and she was his student.

This was bad. This was beyond bad. How the hell did he not notice how far he let all this get? Those little mind games where he intentionally wouldn't call on her for ages during class, just to see her essentially fighting for his attention, the way she'd almost grow in her seat every time he gave her any sort of praise - hell, him taking her on as a teacher's assistant.

None of that was helping in any way. Maybe he just had to find a way to at least publicly distance himself from her. Try not asking her to stay after class so many goddamn times. That would be a start. Aizawa sighed and took a sip from his half-empty cup of coffee. It had gotten cold. Of course.

"Morning, prof!" he heard a cheerful voice say behind him. Speaking of the devil. He turned in his chair and saw Kaori Shinsou standing there, a lunch tray in her hands, obviously on the way over to her friends.

"What do you want, Shinsou?" he asked, feeling a headache coming on. He was in no mood to deal with this right now.

"Just happened to pass by on my way. I saw Tsukauchi talk to you and you looked kind of shaken. Is everything okay?" she replied innocently. Good God, this was getting worse and worse. Aizawa gave her a glare.

"It's none of your concern." he said coldly, trying to implement the rules he had just set for himself. Shinsou looked like she was taken aback a little and then she just shrugged and gave him a smile.

"Okay." she replied and continued in her way. That smile literally broke Aizawa's heart. It wasn't easily noticeable, but it was absolutely a fake smile. He kept telling himself that all of this was for the best. He really wanted to keep his job and he didn't want to force Shinsou to transfer courses either.

He had no idea how he was supposed to work with her, if she decided to transfer from the Hosu department to the nationwide department. He tried to remember how he was treating the rest of his students, but somehow it didn't seem to translate in any way to Shinsou. She was smart, dedicated and... really fucking hot.

There. He said it. He thought his student was hot. And really, there was nothing wrong about it. She was 22, there were really only 8 years between them. The only thing that was a problem was U.A.'s policy on that. And that's why he had to cut the bullshit and stop being obvious about it.

Aizawa took a deep breath and took another sip from his coffee. With the shock of his new realization he had completely forgotten that it had become cold and disgusting. He grimaced, as he remembered. Only thirty minutes left until his Criminal Psychology class. With Kaori Shinsou in it. Fuck.

He was so used to talking to her about her assignments after class or to have a small chat in the classroom just before the course started. He was used to watching her write down immaculate notes, her sticking her pencil into her hair and forgetting about it for ages, her sitting up more and more when he wasn't calling on her on purpose. This whole thing would be harder than he thought.

With a sigh he got up to get rid of his coffee and hole himself up in the staff room. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, not after he had had this weird epiphany. His mind flashed the image of Shinsou's sad eyes at him reacting so coldly before him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuck, this really would be hard.

#inside your mind #aizawa #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x oc

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kurtty-drabbles · 4 years

Text

Pirate au Redone (part 3)

N/A: Ideas will be used here. I think. Kitty will pirate? Yes, and Maddy will show up as well. Going to be honest. I don´t think we need to see the talk between Emma and Kitty and I want to write this idea before it pops out of my mind.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @djinmer4 @bamfoftheundead @everykurt @muninandhugin

After a long discussion both Jean and Scott menage to council their differences and as Jean proclaims to a more relaxed Scott, they´ll try anew and this time no more Pheonix or Avengers or anything to come between them. And, Scott, still has his reservations about Krakoa - and Scott is one of the few people that seem to notice Kurt´s demeanor over a couple of days and is one of the few who confide with him about Krakoa- can at least, if nothing else, give the benefit of the doubt to the island.

Where are you, Rachel?

This thought lingers in his mind and took some time out of Scott´s initial agenda-not that he cares too much about it, but, he doesn´t like to be idle and Rachel is a grown-up woman and may want some time alone to figure out things...considering her sexuality and who she dated, Scott can safely say Rachel wants an alone time now- and once the man is fed up in pretending to do whatever chores he was supposed to do. Scott Summers leave his room.

Krakoa is a beauty as if your definition of beauty comes with vines, exotic plants-so exotic that Scott can sweat they don´t exist- and an oppressive tone of green. Paradise is another form of prison? Lucifer certainly thought so.

His thoughts on religion are skeevy at best - again, Scott does not care, and if Kurt Wagner shares some of this belief with him. Why he would feel ashamed?- and his thoughts on religion take an ironic twist when Scott halt and looks at the person in front of him and his teeth grith so tight he could swear he´ll break his teeth or jaws.

"Why are you doing here?" Scott asked directly to Mr.Sinister who is smiling all too pleasant. The man still has the same fashion sense and still have this smirk on his face.

"Ah, Scott...you thought you wouldn´t see me again? I was the closest thing of a father in your life...and when I heard you and Miss Jean Grey are trying again...It fuels my heart with joy...do you remember?" he asked with that creepy smile of his, showing more teeth than a human should, then again, is Mr.Sinister human? "do you remember those fun times in the orphanage? You cried but didn´t beg...and you even won in the end...it only proofs that I was right all the time" and Scott´s breath accelerate and he didn´t think twice before taking his visor and blast Mr.Sinister away.

However, the vines creepily climb on the floor and wrapped tightly around his legs and yank on the floor and the impact somehow makes the lasers stop-Scott closes his eyes and it took a minute for him to reconize the sensation and not enter in dispair believing his sight is gone- and his body is unable of moving.

"Scott Summers, you broke the law" the voice that belongs to Prof X answers, yet, Scott notices something off on his voice. "The punishment must be severe...especially as you´re one of my favorites" and Scott almost laughs at this.

Then I don´t want to know what you would do if I wasn´t the favorite.

If Prof X is ready to throw Scott in the dungeons or do something else, well, all Scott can do is gulp and not cry. But, someone intervenes. No, more than someone as he can still hear their voices.

"Prof...this is unfair...why you would punish Scott for wanting to be away from this creepy?" Jean shouts angrily and Scott can see, mentally of course, how her face must be twisted in anger-there´s a difference in an angry Jean and an angry Pheonix and Scott knows this very well- and Jean continues while Storm is helping Scott to stand on his feet.

"Can you open your eyes, Scott?" Storm asked in concern and Scott shakes his head. Nothing else needs to be said. Storm puts his visor back and asks again as Scott opens his eyes slowly.

Jean is not done. "How can you ask for a nazi scientist to be here? I thought this island was supposed to be a paradise for us...not for nazis scum" Jean shouts vexing and for a moment everyone gathers around thinking she would go Pheonix...

She gave up the Pheonix ...there´s no trace of the bird on her.

Prof X smiles and is not soothing in the slightest. "I believe everyone deserves a chance and it wasn´t thanks to Mr.Sinister´s machinations that Cable, your once beloved son or so you once claimed, came to be?" Prof X only walks ignoring Jean Grey as he concludes his thoughts in one final line. "Plus, you would are the one to give everyone a chance...everyone but your own daughter" and then Jean falls from the sky screaming in agony.

Scott goes to her and tries to use his power on Prof X to make him stop- Scott recalls that he did murder Prof X thanks to the Power of Pheonix and hopes he can kill the man again-yet, his power doesn´t work on the man who only shakes his head at this.

Storm tried to use her powers as well-summon a powerful lightning bolt to burn the man in one attack- yet, her powers are useless against Prof X, and Storm is knockdown.

"What a pity...but you two always disappointed me"

And the fates of Scott Summers and Jean Grey are sealed. There´s no more Mr.Sinister as Prof X leaves.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Logan is on the beach and is smoking one of his best cigars and is more than happy to see Jean Grey, and to his increased libido and satisfaction she´s wearing a bikini and no Scott Summers- and Logan knows this is meant to be. Knows this is all about making more babies and Logan promises to buy the best beer he can think to thank Kurt for such law- and the man is as seductive as his entire being can. "Jeanie. Fancy a swin?"

Jean shakes her head and holds him. Oh, Logan knew this would happen and smirks thinking he finally beat Slim. Finally, and even mention this out loud. "You finally going to be with a real man" and goes for a kiss.

The kiss is as passionate as his imagination provides, yet, she steps away and speaks in a soothing tone. "Oh, Logan...I never liked you but I thought you were smart than that" and her eyes are burning just like her hair. "You´ll know what is death and the most painfully one..." and Jean is no longer Jean...and Logan is no more.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

A cargo ship is traveling in the pacific ocean and the captain is giving the orders to make sure their precious containment is in order- mutants kids from non-develop countries and many labs and governments would pay anything to put their hands on those kids- and the captain is even dreaming with the huge sums of money he´ll gain thanks to those kids. And damn, he can even view himself in a large mansion.

"Captain...there´s a strange ship...yatch coming to our way" one of his first mates points to the said yacht and the captain rolls his eyes and order to fire at them-he has better things to worry than worry about stupid people- however when one of the crews of the yacht shots a fireball large enough to damage the ship and the other froze the ship preventing it from leaving...it proves how it in deep waters the captain is now.

A woman flies to the deck. The woman has a red vest and one sword. The men didn´t take long to shoot at her, yet, it was futile. "AHH GHOST!" one of them said and the woman smirks evilly.

"Yep, I´m a ghost and I´m a very pissed ghost" and she runs through them using her sword as if it was another limb attached to her body. The rest of the crew surrender and the children were rescued.

"Emma?" Kitty calls not wanting the damn woman in her mind. "The kids are safe...not alright after what they witness, but, alive...we´re taking them to a secure place"

"I trust in your judgment, Kate!"

"Stop calling me like that, Frost"

One of the kids looks at the woman wearing red and asks one of the mutants who is she. And Bobby follows their sight and smiles. "Well, that´s Captain Pryde" and the kids look in awe at the Captain who notices their smiles and makes a One Piece reference.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Betsy Braddock is not easily frightened and maybe this can make people have the wrong view about her. And maybe, Betsy used to like those wrong ideas people had over her- the fearsome woman who laughs in Death´s face- and Elisabeth´s smile can´t reach her eyes anymore nor be anything but an obvious fake. No pleasantries are enough to dissolve the situation between herself and... "Kwannon" Betsy exclaims noticing how their outfits have different color paletas.

Kwannon. The Japanese Psylocke as some used to call-Oh, Betsy knows what people used to call Kwannon´s body and know what they used to call Betsy´s mind as well- and the Japanese woman is putting one foot in front of the other...the motion would be almost funny, if it wasn´t painfully clear she´s not used to her own body.

"Betsy..." her tone is dry as her eyes are fixated on Betsy. "I want to talk with you, but...thinking back and seeing you now. I need you to shut up and listen..." she exhales and continues. "I don´t blame you for what happened to me..." she closes her eyes and touches her hand. "I´d blame you for how you treat my name and my own body. You wear little and suddenly your blade talks and demands blood...I´m not like that and I don´t like that now you´re a white woman...abruptly your blade doesn´t scream blood anymore and you don´t longer dress like a slut..." she completes having a neutral expression on her face.

Betsy can´t ignore her actions. "I thought in assume another identity for myself" is a good explanation for Betsy not for Kwannon.

"White woman. Do you know anything about me? I´m a ninja not because it was cool or sexy, but, because I had no option. I have no last name...I´m a Burakumin, yeah judge by your look you had no idea what this means" her tone is derisive as she continues. "I was an outcast in my own country. The Yakuza one day, saw my abilities and offer me a job...and that job became my life"

"I didn´t know..." Betsy speaks with a heavy tone. "I was..."

"Having fun in wearing my body as a sex toy? Yeah...I know" and Kwannon uses her kinetic blade- Kwannon is not sure if she wants to fight Betsy or to simply see if she still has her powers- and if a brawl was to happen, well, it won´t be now as Emma Frost shows up along with Kitty Pryde.

"Ladies...this is not time to catfight...we better things to do" Emma Frost replied in a regal way as always and Kitty rolls her eyes at such display but speaks again.

"I think we all agree Krakoa is bad"

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Scott and Jean are back to their cabin in the woods-money is not exactly an issue for Jean Grey as she died and resurrected so many times to the point the agency thinks she´s a meme now- and Jean is laid down on the canape still feeling pain. "I´m fine...no, I´m not...but I´ll be...Scott, when Prof X´s power increase like that?"

Scott has no answers. And someone knocks the door and Scott goes to answer and sees Madeline Pryor smiling at him. "Are you real or an illusion?" Scott asks and Madeline nods sagely and slaps his face with a grin.

"Still doubt am I not real?"

"No, is you!"

"I´m not here to fight...I´m here to talk and as much I hate to say this...I need the help of Jean Grey"

#Pirate au redone au #kitty pryde #madeline pryor #Emma Frost #Kitty the pirate saving mutant kids #No KIDS going to Krakoa #Logan is no more #Dr Moira is next #Kwannon has a background now #mentions of Kurt

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flowerpowell · 5 years

Text

The Boy Next Door (Logan x MC / Colt x MC)

PART TWO

A/N: Hello everyone, part two of this wonderful college AU, slow burn series is already out! As always, the characters belong to PB, I only borrow them. I hope you’ll enjoy today’s chapter, please dont forget to leave some feedback cause it makes me happy!

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1919

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @confessionsofabrokegirl @akrenich @lovehugsandcandy @walkerduchess @desiree-0816 @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @hellomynameisdevi @client-327 @liamzigmichael4ever @badchoicesposts @choicesarehard @blackcatkita @pixel-thirsty @donutsgirl36 @drakeismyweakness @maccuswielle @miss-raleigh-carrera ♥

“And this year’s winner of the Nobel Peace Prize is... Ellie Wheeler, the president of the United States!”

“Thank you! Thank you for your trust, for appreciating me! I promise to continue doing good, I promise to continue being the best president the United States has ever had. I promise--” A sudden noise startled her. “Excuse me! Can you turn off your phone? This is the Nobel Academy, show some respect! As I was saying--” she tried to continue but more phones began to ring. “Turn off your phones, people!! This is my moment of glory!”

“Miss Wheeler? This is your phone ringing.”

“No, it’s not! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

“Shut up!”

Ellie was jolted awake by her phone ring and being still half asleep, she took her phone to turn it off. Why it is so loud at only seven forty-five? It’s Saturday, I should be sleeping. Stupid technology. She put her phone back on the nightstand and went back to her comfortable position only to jump out of bed the next second.

It was not Saturday, it was Friday. And she had classes at eight.

“No, no, no, no!!!” She hastily put on some clothes and sprinted out of her room. There was no time for make up or for breakfast, not even for coffee. It was her first Friday at uni and she heard professor Ortega was one of the scariest ones. She really didn’t want to be late.

Colt was watching a movie and sipping coffee when she ran downstairs and started putting on her shoes like crazy.

“Colt, you’ve got to help me!” she yelled from the hallway.

“It’s not Halloween yet,” he yelled back and she rolled her eyes. Maybe she should have put on at least some makeup.

“Please, Colt, I’m gonna be late for this class and I can’t be! I know you have a car, please, please, please, pleaseeeeeeee!” She really didn’t want to ask him for help but there was no other way. They hadn’t talked much those past few days, only a few of “Good morning,” “coffee?,” “good night!,” “may I?,” (from Ellie) and “morning,” “yes,” “no,” “please stop talking” (from Colt).

“Why can’t you skip school today? You have like four more years of that.”

“It doesn’t exactly work like that, Colt. Pleaseee, save me, I have ten minutes! If I’m late, the prof will HATE me and fail me, I won’t graduate, I’ll never get any job, I’ll be unemployed and without any money, Logan will dump me, I’ll be homeless, then I’ll get sick cause I always get sick when I’m outside for too long, especially if it’s raining, I won’t have any money for meds and I will DIE! Do you want to kill me?” She pouted, trying her best to look cute and innocent so that Colt would break. He rolled his eyes and got up, turning off the TV.

“Fine, fine, just stop, stop!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cheered, throwing her hands around Colt’s neck. He shot her an annoyed look and she quickly put distance between them. Small steps, Ellie, small steps. He’s gonna like you or else I’m not Ellie Wheeler. He MUST like you. You’re too likeable. She smiled to herself but her smile faded a few seconds later during the quietest car drive she ever experienced.

“So... Do you have any plans for today?” Ellie asked in hopes to start a conversation. In response, Colt turned on the radio and turned the sound up.

Small steps, Ellie. Small steps.

~~~~

“I know it sucks, Ellie, and I’m so sorry but I really couldn’t say no.”

Logan’s heartbroken voice filled the silence around her when she was walking back to the apartment after classes.

“So... you’re not coming this week?”

“I’m so sorry, Ellie. I really wanted to but my boss...”

“I know, I know. You couldn’t say no,” she sighed. She was really looking forward to this weekend since Logan was supposed to vist her and she missed him more than she could admit. But apparently Logan’s boss had different plans for him and Ellie was mad. Mad at Logan’s boss for finding him something to do, mad at Logan for not being able to say ‘no’ and mad at herself for wanting so bad to study here.

“I’ll visit you next month for our first anniversary! That’s a promise! I would never miss it. I love you, Ellie.”

“Yeah... I love you, too,” she said and ended the call. When she called him to tell him all about the new professor she was so excited and didn’t expect her mood would be ruined.

When she entered the appartment, Colt was still there, flipping through some papers and Ellie suddenly felt angry.

“Don’t you have a job to get to? How do you even afford this house if all you do is sitting on your ass for days?”

Colt turned to her, his eyes widened at her outburst and she felt embarrassed when she realized she shouldn’t have been so awful to him. He studied her face for a moment and finally spoke, his voice calm but with a pinch of pretended hurt.

“Why are you so rude to me? I saved you from being late, failing, being unemployed and homeless, and from dying. Is that how you show your appreciation?”

She chuckled but quickly composed herself. “I’m sorry. Logan just told me he is not coming this week and I miss him and I was mad at him, not at you of course. But he promised me and I really wanted to see him! And he also promised to help me with my assignment that is due on Monday and now I’m left all alone and... and you probably don’t even care about it. Anyways, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, forcing herself to walk away, go to her room, close the door and cry for a bit. Surprisingly, however, Colt stood up and she could see concern on his face.

“What assignment?”

She shrugged, “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t. But if you’re gonna be depressed for a whole weekend I’d rather help you with it myself than live with a zombie.”

“I have this huge term paper to--”

“Term paper? Term? It’s been only the first week! Why do you need to write it now?!”

“... As I was saying,” she kept on ignoring Colt’s question, “it’s a huge term paper. With several parts and I have to do the first part by Monday. It’s about criminals’ rehabilitation and for the first task I need to find an ex-criminal and run an interview with them. I needed Logan for that cause it can be dangerous and he apparently knew the guy. Besides, I’m not the best at meeting new people.”

“Well, no shit,” Colt ran his hand through his short hair. He thought for a second before speaking again. “I think I can help. My friend was released from jail recently. She’s not very dangerous though she might bite if you’re too annoying.”

Ellie’s eyes widened at his proposition. Was he actually nice to her? “I—I,” she stuttered before clearing her throat and smiling, “I would love that. Thank you.”

~~~~

She regretted agreeing right after meeting Colt’s friend. Mona was even less friendly than Colt. If that was even possible.

“Listen, I don’t appreciate your little uni making me feel like I’m an animal in the circus,” she said to her when Ellie told her about her assignment.

“It’s not like that--”

“It’s not? Question one, how is your life different from before the jail? Question two, how to people treat you knowing you’ve been in jail?” Mona read the questions from the interview and Ellie blushed. “It’s not like I have a second head after being in jail!”

“But you kinda broke the law,” Ellie shrugged, “I’m just interviewing here, I can send your complaints to the dean, if you want to.”

“And send him this,” she showed her a middle finger and Ellie heard Colt chuckle.

“I, err, will make sure he gets it. Will you help me though?”

Mona sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I won’t make it easier for you.”

And she didn’t. After an hour, Ellie felt like she just ran two marathons. Mona wasn’t very talkative and was constantly complaining about the questions. When Ellie and Colt reached the house, it was already late and dark, as if a storm was coming. Since Ellie had a major astraphobia, she was relieved to be home, though she did miss Logan. She turned to thank Colt but he was already leaving.

“Where are you going? There’s storm coming out and it’s gonna rain!”

“I don’t mind,” he said pointing to the hood on his jacket.

“But... but it’s dangerous!”

“I don’t mind,” he repeated and she got angry again.

“So you’re gonna leave me like this? I knew I should have never come here.”

Colt sighed and stopped before opening the door. “What’s your problem again?”

“My problem? I hate storms! I’m scared of them. I get panic attacks anytime there’s one. Logan’s not here, you’re leaving and I’ll be here alone. That’s my problem.”

She saw he hesitated but eventually he opened the door and said, before heading out. “The house is safe, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

She hated him when she heard the door close. She was mad when she realized she was home alone and no one was going to save her. She wanted to go to her room and hide under the blankets on her bed but twenty minutes after Colt left, the thuderstorm started and with a shriek, she ran to hide under the kitchen table. She closed her eyes and started counting to ten but the noise of frequent thunders made her lose the count. She tried to calm herself down, her panic attack getting stronger as she repeated the phrase “the house is safe, you’re gonna be okay” to herself like a prayer. She was already shaking, her breathing was ragged when she heard the door opening.

“Ahhhhhh!” she screamed, too afraid to check what it was.

“Calm down, it’s just me!” Colt entered the kitchen and looked under the table. “You comfy here?”

“Fu—nny,” she breathed, trying to stop shaking so bad. “What... are you do—ing here?”

“You said you were afraid of storms...” he started nervously and ran his hand through his wet hair. He hesitated for a moment but he crouched and got under the table next to her. She looked at him curiously when he awkwardly put his arm around her, pulling her closer.

“Does it help?” he rasped and she could only nod. The storm was still pretty strong but she stopped shaking. Being so close to Colt felt weirdly nice.

“I struggled with panic attacks when I was little,” he said as if trying to explain himself, explain why he was helping her. She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“If you tell about this to anyone I will kill you.”

She smiled to herself. Maybe Colt wasn’t that bad after all. And maybe he even started liking her.

#ride or die: a bad boy romance #ride or die: bad boy romance #choices #colt kaneko #colt x mc #colt kaneko x mc #rod colt #rod logan #logan x mc #choices rod #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

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lissadiane · 5 years

Text

What Happens on St. Patrick’s Day...

I wrote this for @mandatoryfunday. In the interest of full disclosure... it’s been a real busy and stressful week and I forgot to write this for @mandatoryfunday until like, two hours ago? So. Listen. Lower your expectations. A lot. Okay? Okay.

What Happens on St. Patrick’s Day

Clint’s made a lot of stupid decisions in his life but this one here, this one is possibly one of the more dangerous. It’s just, he can’t say no to a challenge, and a challenge to shotgun seven green beers and then scale the side of the campus clock tower was too much to resist.

He’s halfway up, his fingers scrabbling at crumbling brick and his feet planted on a narrow ridge, squinting down at the quad below, when the last beer or two hits and the world starts spinning.

He might puke.

There’s a crowd gathered below, people from his floor in the dorms, shaking their fists and cheering him on and dressed in way too many ‘Kiss Me I’m Irish’ shirts when Clint’s pretty sure none of them are actually fuckin’ Irish.

Natasha’s there too, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, sober and pissed and she’d tried to tell him not to be an idiot, but listen.

St. Patrick’s day is the Vegas of holidays -- whatever happens on St. Patrick’s Day stays on St. Patrick’s Day. And Clint had honestly went to the campus bar with the noble intention of having a beer, doing a few jigs, hanging out with Natasha and her friends and being home by midnight.

But then Steve had walked in with Bucky Barnes and Clint’s been gone on Bucky since freshman year and had been doing steadily more stupid things in an attempt to get himself noticed ever since, to no avail.

Bucky stayed stuck at the hip to Steve, seemingly content to be his growly, gorgeous, miserable self, unmoved by Clint’s increasingly creative attempts to get his attention.

Opposites attract and all that, which is the only explanation for Steve and Bucky, though Natasha is still adamant that Steve and Bucky aren’t actually fucking.

But who could be that close to Bucky and not want to climb him like a tree?

But whatever. The fact of the matter is that Clint’s halfway up a clock tower, drunk out of his fucking mind, about to fall to his death, and Bucky, his super secret crush, is standing below, watching, unaware of all of Clint’s epic pining.

It’s a pathetic way to die.

“Keep climbing, asshole!” Rumlow shouts. There is a chorus of cheering.

Clint takes a breath and reaches for the only handhold he can see that stands a chance of holding his weight, and then scrambles for a foothold and doesn’t find it.

Falling is sort of serene. It seems to last forever. The weightlessness soothes the nausea that had been churning in his belly, the sky is full of stars above him, and the fall seems to happen in slow motion.

Maybe it’s not the best way to die, full of green beer and the knowledge that he hadn’t backed down from a challenge, at least. He’d done his best and that’s the best he could do.

He was dying with his dignity intact.

He hits a shrub before he hits the ground and branches crack like bones but it slows his descent, at least, and then he slams into the ground with a dull thud.

“Boo,” someone shouts, and the disappointed crowd starts wandering away, leaving Clint to his ungainly sprawl on the lush quad ground.

It’s quite nice. Maybe he can just sleep here, he thinks, doing a quick mental inventory of all his limbs. Bruises, a few abrasions, but everything seems intact.

He’s the luckiest guy he knows.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Natasha snaps at him, and he opens his eyes to squint up at her, silhouetted by the moon.

He tries a charming grin, though she never falls for it, and says, “Nearly made it though, right?”

“You were only four feet off the ground.”

Clint blinks, disoriented, because Natasha hadn’t said that, and he turns his head and holy fucking shit balls, it’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes, most beautiful boy Clint’s ever seen -- he’d written an ode to Bucky’s jawline in his freshman modern poetry class and he’d even gotten a B- on it, because his prof thought it was a commentary on the harsh and unforgiving landscape of the socioeconomic impact of millennials on the real estate industry.

Bucky blinks. “Real estate?” he echoes, and Clint realizes two things really quickly. First, Bucky was a business major and probably knew shit all about modern poetry and two, Clint had said all that out loud.

“‘Cutting like amortization through the crumbling foundation of a battered heart,’” Clint quotes morosely, because his poem really had been a piece of shit, and then he manages to roll over and puke green beer all over Bucky’s shoes.

“Jesus,” Natasha growls, and Bucky still looks shellshocked, like the horribleness of Clint’s poetry is too much to handle at this late hour, on this auspicious occasion.

“Whatever happens on St. Patrick’s Day stays on St. Patrick’s Day,” Clint mumbles, spitting a little.

“Listen,” Natasha says, turning to Bucky. “Show’s over. He’s fine. I’ll get him home. Everyone else is gone, just -- I’m sure Steve’s waiting for you at the bar and Clint’s an idiot, but I’d like to spare him any further humiliation. Okay? Thanks though.”

“You’re a bro,” Clint tells her, swaying. He’s on his hands and knees and he’s drunk and he’s tired and he’s trying to decide what would be worse, moving, or collapsing in his own vomit and sleeping this off there.

The vomit is green. That’s practically grass, right?

“Steve’s over there,” Bucky says. “We just wanted to see if you needed help getting him home.”

Natasha’s quiet for a moment and then she lets out a careful breath and says, “Okay. Sure.”

They haul Clint to his feet and he staggers badly but Bucky and Steve manage to hold him up.

Clint doesn’t remember much about how they get him home. He thinks Steve drives, because Steve is sober, of course, and he has one vague image of curling up against Bucky’s chest and telling him that his ‘kiss me I’m Irish’ shirt smells like lies, but Clint doesn’t want to think about it, so he doesn’t.

Back at his and Nat’s apartment, he curls up in bed and Steve and Bucky are gone and the sad, aching part of being drunk is settling into Clint’s bones, so he begs Natasha to stay with him.

She rolls her eyes but crawls into bed, petting his hair until he passes out and agreeing with him over and over again that whatever happens on St. Patrick’s Day stays on St. Patrick’s Day.

Natasha’s gone the next morning because she’s got class, and Clint is in the process of dying of a hangover in the kitchen while trying to figure out how the hell to make coffee (he KNOWS how to make coffee, it’s just hard when he feels like he’s dying, okay?) when someone knocks on the door.

For a moment, he feels like ignoring it, but the knock comes again and Clint wonders if maybe Nat’s forgotten her keys or a neighbour’s toilet is on fire or something, so he opens it.

It’s Bucky. And he’s holding two coffees. And Clint wonders if Bucky is so disgusted by the night before that he’s come here to drink two coffees in front of Clint, as if he somehow knew that Clint would be unable to work the coffee maker and this was his revenge.

Clint whimpers.

“Hi,” Bucky says, and then he holds out a coffee with a scowl and Clint takes it. Maybe it’s poisoned, he doesn’t care -- he downs half of it in two burning gulps and Bucky looks like maybe he’s regretting all his life choices when Clint finally looks at him again.

“Hi,” Clint says belatedly. “Uh. Sorry about. Everything. The shoes. The vomit. The sniffing. The poetry.”

Bucky shifts on his feet like he wants to run and then says, “Steve says it’s taking advantage of you in your inebriated state if I don’t come by and make sure you’re alive and tell you that…” he trails off and sips his coffee and grimaces.

“That you never want to see me again?” Clint asks, shoulders slumping.

“I thought you were dating Natasha,” Bucky says, exasperated.

“Oh. Well. I’m not,” Clint says, unsure of how it’s relevant.

“In freshman year, when I -- when I started insisting Stevie find reasons to hang out on your floor in the dorm.” He wrinkles his nose. “I thought you guys were dating.” He waves his coffee around like that’s somehow going to clarify things, and then says, “But I still thought that you were, you know.”

Clint doesn’t know. It must show on his face.

“Cute,” Bucky says finally. Angrily. His cheeks are pink. He’s fucking adorable. Clint just -- he’s dying of a hangover and Bucky’s gonna be the last thing he sees and Clint thinks maybe that’s okay, maybe it’s worth it, maybe--

“Wait, what?” He blinks.

“Listen, I get that I can’t -- you were drunk and you probably didn’t actually write a real estate poem about my face or whatever --”

“Your jaw,” he says faintly. “And I did. It’s magnetted to the fridge. Nat forces me to do spoken word recitations of it when she’s drunk.”

Bucky’s eyes go a little wide and he rubs at his jaw and looks helpless. “Listen. Steve said I had to tell you, but it doesn’t have to -- we don’t have to -- I just wanted you to know, so you didn’t beat yourself up or--”

“But you and Steve are fucking,” Clint reminds him. “So.”

Bucky frowns. “We’re what? No. We never -- that’s -- no.” He shudders.

“And I’m not fucking Nat.” He shudders. And then rallies, clears his throat, and says, “So if you want, I could be fucking you. Or you could be fucking me. Or both. Either. Whatever you want.”

Bucky’s doing that thing where he blinks too much and looks like he wants to run, but instead he just shifts on his feet, settles into his hips a little like he’s standing his ground, and says, “I thought maybe we could start with breakfast.”

Breakfast, Clint decides, sounds almost as good as all the sex.

#winterhawk #mandatory fun day #my writing

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giranswife · 6 years

Text

Flirty Morning Texts

Summary: It’s another morning before a lecture, and Ashley is exhausted from her cram session the night before. Luckily she has her friendly neighborhood spiderboyfriend to help pass the time, and get her a decent start to her morning.

W: self-insert x canon, fluff

Ship: Peter x Ashley (Caught in Love’s Web)

(( Note: I wrote this up last night because I was in a mood. I’m still in a mood, but anyway! There’s no spoilers here, just a little cute fluff. It’s pretty short too, but I like it regardless. Eventually we’ll get into the meat of the story when it comes to our relationship, but right now I just want to write adorable fluff! Also this is a insert x canon ship, which means it’s a personal insert shipped with Peter! ))

@self-shipping-angel

The chatter of conversation felt like a soft hum to my tired brain, fading into the background as I entered the crowded lecture hall. Lugging my backpack onto the floor beside my feet, I plopped down into the seat and began to slowly drag out my things. The only little buzz of energy I had was my coffee that was now sitting on top of the desk in front of me, which wasn’t doing much for me. I never was a coffee drinker, but after the all nighters I’ve been pulling it was the only thing keeping me from face planting into the table in front of me.

Between volunteer hours and studying and still trying to have a social life, I felt like I was losing my sanity a little bit. I kept reminding myself that I only had one more year, but that didn’t seem to make things any easier. Last night I had stayed up all night finishing homework and also preparing for two tests. Sometimes I wonder why I still continue to burn myself out, but then I remember how hard I’ve worked up until this point.

I can pull through.

Yawning quietly, I tugged my jacket tighter around me, for once wishing that it wasn’t so cold in this room. The cold always makes me even more tired, and right now that wasn’t helping at all. My head started to pound, which wasn’t all that great of a sign. I knew that after classes today I was going to have to nap. There was no getting around it.

I felt a soft buzzing in my jacket pocket, and I slowly took out my phone. I blinked, my tired eyes glancing at the screen for a couple seconds before the words came clear. The corners of my lips perked up a bit, seeing the name that flashed on the screen. Normally, I wouldn’t have worried about it with class about to start, but I had to make an exception for this cute man.

Pete♡♡: ‘Hey, morning, how’s class?’

I rolled my eyes a bit, quickly typing back a reply.

‘Hasn’t started yet, but I’m extremely tired. Coffee’s not helping lol’

Resting my chin on my jacket covered palm, I waited for his reply patiently as two girls sat down on either side of me. They chatted to each other across from me, and I immediately wanted to melt into the floor. It didn’t help that their rather loud voices were making my head pound. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but today I was exceptionally moody and irritable. Well… that’s mostly every morning when you’re not a morning person.

I felt my leg vibrate, and I glanced down quickly to read the next incoming message.

Peter’s pretty fast for someone that’s most likely zipping around the city right about now.

‘That sucks. Should I cause a distraction and save you?’

He added a little laughing emoji behind it that made me chuckle softly. That honestly was very tempting. The last thing I wanted to do was sit down for a lecture, but I knew that it was better for me. Besides, it should be an easy enough lecture today, hopefully. But just this small conversation with him before helped me wake up a bit. Even if it was just for a couple of minutes.

Biting my bottom lip, I quickly typed out the next text, hearing the sound of my professor shuffling into the door. It felt a little disappointing to have to stop talking to him, especially since I was missing him a lot. These passed couple of days, weeks even, we had both been extremely busy with our own things. Well, he’s been busy with much more exciting stuff. For me it’s mainly been homework and studying and than work.

A part of me really wants to go out one afternoon either with Peter or alone and see if there’s anything I can do out there. But then I remember how anxious that thought makes me and how I’m still unsure if that’s a good idea for me. The last time that I did so I almost ended up hurting a couple civilians. All because I still can’t get a direct handle on the things that I can do, and my heart isn’t exactly in it enough.

Besides, what good is a hero who’s already exhausted from their actual reality. I can’t decide which is more important to me… changing the world for the better as a hero, or doing what I love for a career. For some reason, I never believe that I can have both. Peter tries to tell me that I can try my hand at both, but I just don’t think it’s possible for me.

But I’d give anything to fight by his side. Even for a day.

‘Thanks, baby, but I should really sit in this one. I gotta go, profs in.’

Pete♡♡: ‘Okay. Enjoy your class.’

Although, he didn’t exactly leave me alone after that. It was almost like his spidey-sense was telling him that I was in danger of boredom. Within the first half hour of the lesson, I felt my leg vibrate a couple of times. It caused me to jump at first, having drifted a bit with a few flutters of my eyes. I quickly straightened myself and took a small glance at my phone.

I had a couple missed messages from Peter, and at first I thought they might be emergencies. He usually doesn’t text me during class unless it is an emergency. And I worry very easily, so I immediately thought the worst. The lecture wasn’t important at that moment, though I very casually glanced down at my phone.

It was hard not to scoff when I opened my messages and saw a couple of pictures. No emergency, just my boyfriend being a total goofball. Three different pictures of him in front of different places that he had apparently passed by, and one taken with some bad guy that he had apparently taken down.

I snickered quietly, feeling by cheeks burning a bit.

He was too adorable for words. It was an easy way for me to feel a little better and a little happier to look at him. It was just the mask, but I knew the face behind it. I liked to imagine he was making some ridiculous grin even though I couldn’t see it. That thought made my heart flutter a bit.

I adored that grin.

Pete♡♡: ‘None of this is as exciting without you here!’

‘I beg to differ.’

I bit my bottom lip as I replied, glancing up to continue listening to the lecture. Even though my mind was wandering a lot, thinking about Peter even more now. I scribbled down a few more notes, feeling another buzz on my leg.

Pete♡♡: ‘I mean it. Do you know how easy this guy was to take down? I could have done it one handed with my eyes closed!’

I giggled softly, glancing up and taking a few more notes.

I had to wrap up the conversation now that I was getting a little too invested in it. But it was extremely hard to stop when he was being so damn adorable and entertaining. I was even starting to bite my thumb and lip a lot, blushing insanely that someone would eventually notice.

After listening for a few more minutes, I typed a quick reply very skillfully without even having to look very much.

‘I figured you already did that, Spidey. Are you already losing your edge?’

Pete♡♡: ‘Of course not! I’m all edge, baby!’

‘Oh rly?’

Pete♡♡: ‘I ate a bowl of nails for breakfast this morning.’

That one almost had me losing it in the lecture hall. I’m glad that I bit down hard on my jacket, feeling my cheeks burning brighter than earlier. Peter was way too freaking dorky, and I loved every second of it. I’m not sure how I got so lucky with him, but I was extremely happy.

‘Well, it seems I underestimated you, Mr. Spider-Man. You have my deepest apologies.’

Pete♡♡: ‘Hmm… I think I’m gonna need a little more than that.’

Pete♡♡: ‘Come hang out with me after class? I’ll come swing by and pick you up.’

I let out a sigh, shaking my head.

The idea was extremely tempting. I had forgotten all about my plans to nap, but even if I did end up going to see him I could always nap with him. That seemed a lot more pleasing anyway than being alone in my apartment. And I did miss him a lot.

After a couple minutes of contemplation and more notes, I quickly replied back before I could change my mind.

‘I’d love to… But do not ‘swing’. If you show up and expect me to do anything but walk or take the subway I will leave.’

Pete♡♡: ‘So… I take it that you don’t want the Spider-Express?”

‘No, Peter, sweetie.’

Pete♡♡: ‘Alright, alright. We’ll get there the normal way.’

‘Thank you. Now, I really have to go now. See you then.’

And I meant it this time. He can send me more pictures if he wants, but I needed to focus. The lecture was almost over now, and I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Peter. He really had a way about turning my day around very quickly, and I was thankful to him for that. Seeing him would be a really good way of de stressing and relaxing for a bit before I have to return to studying and working hard.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d have, but any amount of time was good for me. Sometimes it is hard with the different lives that we lead, but I know that it will work out. It has these passed couple of months, and I have every intention of finding what works best for us. It’s been a lot easier now that we both know where we stand and know the deepest parts of each other.

He’s not only my cute, dorky Peter Parker. But now he’s my adorable Spider-Man as well. I felt lucky. He’s the one thing about my time here that I definitely didn’t regret. I couldn’t wait to see where our relationship goes from here.

#my writing #ship: caught in love's web #fluff

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astronomyparkers · 7 years

Text

The Upside of Falling Down

Warnings: Language

Pairing: University!Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: Hey guys!!! I’m so excited to finally be able to post my next series!!! Skyline received so much positive response and I really really hope you guys like this next story as much. It’s going to be pretty different, but I hope you enjoy it. Also, while I have you, let’s just cover some housekeeping stuff: I do not have a tags list, so please please please stop spamming me with requests to tag!!! I appreciate how much you like my writing, but I have it in my bio and put it on almost every update. I try my best to respond to every message I get, and sorting through all those messages just makes it harder!! Secondly, I don’t think I am going to be opening up requests. I’m going back to school in a week, and I have eight classes as well as three jobs. I’m going to do my best to update once a week, but I really just want to focus on the longer stories that I love, so I can give you guys the quality you deserve. I’ll make a longer post about this all later. Let me know what you think about this story!!! I would love to hear some feedback.

{masterlist}

You never expected university to be easy.

When you walked up the steps of Columbia University for the first time freshman year, you had known that the path ahead of you would be hard. Extremely difficult, even. But nothing had prepared you for the hurricane that would be your life for the next ten months. Between the all night cram sessions, endless term papers, lab studies, and regular class hours, you were emotionally, mentally, and even physically drained by the time you finished your final exams. As you packed up your freshman dorm, you remembered how excited you had been while decorating it for the first time, and shook your head at how naïve you had been. Freshman year left you beaten, bruised, and with permanent bags under your eyes, but at least it was done.

Now, walking into your sophomore year, you knew what to expect. You knew what had to be done to manage your time and your life. You knew what study methods worked for you, and what didn’t. You knew when it was wise to go to a party and when to stay in to finish your English literature essay. You knew which friends to avoid during exam week so they wouldn’t whisk you off to a frat kegger, and which friends would hold up flashcards to help you study. You knew what profs gave retests, where the best snack places were on campus, the best study corrals in the library. You knew the name of the librarian that would spend his time helping you find all the resources you needed for your chemistry write up, and the emails of every TA for every one of your classes. Unlike last year, you were prepared. You were ready.

But you weren’t ready, however, for the biology fieldtrip to Thatcher State Park, the fall you were about to have, and the unexpected consequences that would follow. There was no way to study up on how to keep a secret. There were no flashcards on what to do if one of your classmates entrusts you with their life. There was no way to prepare for Peter Parker.

Preparing for someone you barely knew was like cramming for an exam on a subject you’ve never studied. Before your sophomore year, Peter was only someone you knew by sight. You were both biochemistry majors, which meant that you had a lot of the same classes, but Columbia was a big school; mostly you’d seen him across a lecture hall of three hundred students. Until the trip to Thatcher State Park, you had only spoken to him once, when he had bumped into you on your way into General Chemistry I last year. Until the trip, you could count the things you knew about Peter Parker on one hand, and one of those things wasn’t even his first name (a professor had addressed him as Mr. Parker last semester when he was late to a class, causing him to redden and mutter an apology as he hastened to his seat). Until the trip, you believed that he would never be someone you would ever be more than school acquaintances with, or even someone you would ever cross paths with. But fate was a funny thing, and coincidence even more so, and although you barely knew each other until the trip, you would know too much after.

Dr. McClain had assigned partners for the fieldtrip by drawing names out of a hat (you had to admire her dedication to leaving decisions up to chance—there were over two hundred students in your biology class), and she drew your name right after “Parker, Peter”. You had scanned the room to see a brown haired boy with his hand up on the other side of the lecture hall, and you waved back. He didn’t approach you after class, and you had no inclination to seek him out. The assignment for the fieldtrip was to try to locate fossils in the cliffs of the trails, and to take note of different types of flora and fauna throughout the park; you didn’t need to be best friends with Peter to accomplish the tasks.

When the morning of the fieldtrip rolled around a week later, you still hadn’t spoken to him. As you walked onto the bus with Peter tailing behind you, it crossed your mind that this may not have been a smart move. The bus ride would be an awkward two and a half hours even if you were acquainted with your partner; you couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be because you weren’t.

You made your way to the back of the bus, slipping into the first empty row you found. Pulling your backpack off your shoulders, you settled into the seat next to the window as Peter followed your suit and sat down next to you.

The first half hour of the bus ride passed without incident. The two of you sat in silence, headphones in and walls up as the bus rolled out of the city. Despite trying your best to distract yourself by looking out the window, you were acutely aware of the boy sitting next to you. This was the longest you’d ever been around Peter, as well as the closest; he kept an inch of space between you at all times, but, somehow, you could still feel him next to you. You stole quick glances out of the corner of your eye while Peter wasn’t looking, trying to evaluate the person you would be spending the day with. He was shorter than he had appeared on the few occasions you had seen him from afar—maybe 5’10. His hair was long, a little curly towards the ends, and messy, like he spent the majority of his free time running his hands through it. He had a habit of biting his lip, you had noticed, and fidgeting with his hands as he stared towards the floor. On a few occasions, you caught him stealing glances towards you as well. You pretended not to notice.

Around an hour into the ride, the bus hit a bump, jolting everyone inside. You involuntarily slid to the left and onto Peter’s lap; the startled boy caught you, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other grasped your waist. When his hands touched you, it felt like fire raced from the contact points into your veins, coursing through your entire body.

You gasped a bit, looking up into the brown eyes that belonged to the boy you barely knew.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked with concern. Everyone else around you was back in their original positions, but you were still half-laying across Peter’s lap.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You gave a small smile. “Thanks for the save.”

“Anytime,” Peter smiled back at you, then glanced down at where his hand was positioned. He reddened slightly, and helped you sit back up properly.

A beat passed between the two of you before someone spoke again.

“I’m Peter, by the way.” The boy extended a hand to you. “Peter Parker.”

“Y/N,” You shook his hand (the fire coursed through you again) and smoothed your sweater.

Peter smiled again and looked back down at the floor. Unsure of what else to say, you fixed your headphone that had dislodged in the jolt and went back to staring out the window.

For the next hour, you kept your gaze on the scenery outside your window, not even daring to glance at Peter. Part of you felt guilty, like he would think you were rude or didn’t like him. Really, you just wanted the fieldtrip to be easy. The reality of the fact was that laying across Peter’s lap felt so much better than it should have, and that was too much for you to even consider thinking about. You couldn’t let fire ignite every one of your nerves and flow through your veins, and you couldn’t let Peter’s touch be the catalyst to you. Or anyone’s touch, for that matter. You had worked hard for your place at Columbia, working all though high school and still achieving grades high enough for a scholarship. You put your education first, and you valued getting your degree above everything. It wasn’t always easy, but you barely had time to hang out with friends, let alone time to invest in a romantic life. Peter may be cute, but a diploma and a six figure income was cuter, and you would rather be icy cold than be burned by fire.

You were pulled from your reverie as the bus lurched to a stop, causing your head to hit the window you were leaning against.

“Oh, fuck,” You groaned, rubbing your forehead with your hand. You squeezed your eyes shut as your head began to throb.

“Are you okay?” Peter turned towards you with concern.

“I’m fine,” You brushed off Peter’s question as you grabbed your backpack from the ground. “Come on, I need off this bus.”

Peter slid out from the seat and you followed suit, making your way off the bus and into the circle of students that was gathered around your professor.

Dr. McClain passed out sheets of paper to every pair, explaining the task for the day. Each group was to hike the Indian Ladder Trail (“I know the name sucks, guys. But the view is beautiful, if you ignore the fact that we stole it from Native Americans.”), and was to take pictures and make notes on any plants or anything else you found that seemed interesting.

“And there’s some fossils in the cliff faces along the trail as well,” Dr. McClain informed your class. “Try to find as many as you can! And please, no wandering off into the caves along the trail. This class holds some of the brightest minds of tomorrow, and we need you to fix the hot mess that my generation is leaving behind for you.”

The class began to split up, heading in different directions. Dr. McClain had given you four hours to complete the hike, but it was only supposed to take about two and a half. Your professor claimed it was because she wanted you to have time to explore, and to not have the trail crammed full of two hundred university students, but you suspected she enjoyed having the day off from her other lectures. Whatever the reason was, most of your class seemed to be choosing to make a leisurely start, as they went off exploring other paths. However, you wanted to get a head start and get a chance to find everything that you could, so you took off towards the trail, with Peter following behind you.

You walked in silence for the first few minutes as you descended the steps at the beginning of the trail. The silence was almost mandatory, as the first section of the hike was under a shelf of rock that left a space of around four feet clear for hikers to walk under. You and Peter both crouched, still brushing the ceiling as you scanned the rocky walls for anything interesting or worth noting.

The silence was an awkward but a necessary evil in your eyes; was there anything more uncomfortable than small talk with someone you weren’t friends with?

Peter, apparently, thought not, as the moment you two had made it through the small passage and down the next set of steps, he began asking questions.

“So, um, where are you from?” He said in between snapping pictures of the scenery with the camera slung around his neck.

“Uh, Seattle,” You answered as you carefully made your way down the steps (it was still fairly early in the morning, and dew clung to the metal steps). “Washington.”

“That’s a long way from New York.” Peter let the camera hand around his neck as he tightened a grip on the railing.

You bounced off the last step and continued your way down the trail, pausing for a moment to look at the waterfall ahead of you.

“The waterfall is smaller than I imagined, but I think it’s because it’s the fall,” You tilted your head up to glance at the top of the cliff. “It’s probably more powerful in the springtime.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Peter stopped next to you.

“You didn’t ask one.” You shot back.

Peter bit back a grin and continued walking, with you falling in step next to him. “Touché—let me rephrase. How did you end up at Columbia?”

“It’s one of the best schools in the country,” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced down at the ground, careful of your steps. “And I plan on being one of the best biochemists in the world, so it was an obvious choice. And the scholarship I got didn’t hurt, either.”

“Scholarship, huh?” Peter lifted the camera again and took a few more pictures. “That’s awesome. I don’t know how you can stand being so far from home, though. I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

“You’re from New York?” Asking questions back seemed like the polite thing to do, so you tried your best to make conversation as you scanned the trail for anything interesting.

“Queens,” Peter replied. “I wanted to stay close to my aunt, and my, uh, internship requires me to be close to our—home base. And the internship helps pay for my schooling, so. It all worked out for everyone.”

“What’s the internship?” You were genuinely interested in the answer. You had done quite a bit of interning, mostly unpaid; if there was a company that offered a full ride to an Ivy League university, you wanted to know.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, blowing out a breath. It was still cold enough that you could see his exhale. “Stark Industries.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Damn, Parker. That’s impressive. How’d you find that?”

“You could say it found me,” Peter cracked a small smile. “It’s definitely kept me busy for the past few years.”

“I’ll bet,” You murmured, pausing to lean down and examine some of the rock faces you were passing. There were definitely shapes in them, but whether they were fossils or just carvings from teen vandals, you couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, you pointed them out to Peter and he took a few quick snaps of them before continuing on your way.

Discussion ceased for a while as you two focused on the assignment, quickly making your way along the trail. You crossed over bridges and stopped only to examine various interesting markings and plants and to take a few pictures; you were so far ahead of everyone else in your class that you hadn’t even seen them for the entirety of your hike.

You were fairly close to the end by the time Peter spoke up again.

“I think we got some really good shots,” Peter flipped through the photos on his camera. “We make a good team, Y/N.”

“Hey, Parker,” You ignored his comment in favour of a topic more interesting to you. “What do you think is up there?”

You pointed up at the cliff face above you. A few feet up and to the right was a small opening, like the beginning of a cavern. From your point of view, you estimated that it was about five feet tall and three feet wide.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Peter twisted the lens cap back on his camera. “Come on, Y/N, the end of the trail is this way.”

“I think we can climb up to it…” You ran a hand over the rock structure and found a crevice that you could grab onto. Pulling yourself up, you moved your foot over the rock until you found a ledge that jutted out enough to support your weight.

“What are you doing?” Peter nervously walked over to you.

“Exploring,” You continued your way up the few feet, resting your arms on the ledge of the cave opening.

“This isn’t a good idea, Y/N,” Peter glanced around, but there was still no signs of your classmates. “Dr. McClain specifically said not to wander off into caves.”

“You’re not curious as to what’s in there?” You peered over your shoulder as you pulled yourself up. The cave in front of you was dark, with the sunlight only illuminating a few feet ahead. “There could be more fossils!”

“Y/N—”

“Come on, Parker,” You turned around and looked down at the boy below you. “I know you’re not dumb. You have an internship with Stark Industries, right? Did you get it by playing safe and sticking to the rules, or did you get it by pushing yourself to be the best?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. With one last glance over his shoulder, he secured his camera under his arm and began climbing after you.

You grinned and extended a hand down to your partner, helping pull him onto the ledge (you elected to ignore the fact that touching his hands caused your blood to become fire all over again). Once Peter was standing next to you, you let go of his hand and pulled your phone from your pocket, turning on the flashlight feature. Peter followed your lead, and the two of you began walking into the cave.

As far as you could tell, it was a typical cave. A little creepy, a few unexplained noises that sounded like wind, kind of damp smelling. You and Peter walked slowly, one hand on the right wall at all times so that you could find your way back.

After a few minutes, Peter stopped walking. You looked over at him in confusion, a question on your lips, but he lifted a hand up and silenced you.

“Do you hear that?” He whispered, tilting his head to the left. A puzzled look came over his face.

“Hear what?” You whispered back. You strained your ears, but you failed to pick up any new sounds.

“Rushing,” Peter closed his eyes for a moment. “Like…water rushing. Are we close to the waterfall still?”

“We shouldn’t be,” You thought back to the trail. “We passed that at least an hour ago. Where are you hearing it?”

Peter pointed to the left. Walking a few feet forward, you flashed your light in the direction if his gesture.

It appeared that the cave split into a fork, with two tunnels diverging with one to the left and the other to the right. You walked forward a bit more, slowly, as if you were expecting something to jump out at you.

“Maybe we should turn back,” When you turned around to look at him, Peter’s gaze was unfocused. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Really?” You grinned in the darkness. “I have a curious feeling about this.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N.”

“And satisfaction brought it back.” You walked forward again. “You know what’s really curious? Why people cut phrases like that so much. It’s like that ‘blood is thicker than water thing’—the real phrase is ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’. Which, in my opinion, is a much better saying.”

With a sigh that sounded more like a groan, Peter began to follow you. “Is this what you usually think about? Is this what it’s like being in your head?”

“What else should I think about?” You asked as Peter fell into step beside you.

“I don’t know,” The boy gave a small shake of his head. “Maybe ways not to rush into the most obvious path of danger?”

“I don’t—hey,” You paused. “I can hear the water now! Guess you’re not crazy after all, Parker.”

“That makes one of us,” Peter muttered as you sped up your walking pace to a jog. “Hey, Y/N, wait—”

“Holy shit.” You froze as the passage came to an abrupt end, becoming just a ledge.

A ledge that, you discovered as you shined your flashlight from left to right, over looked a giant hidden cavern. To your left was the source of the rushing water sound; a waterfall cascaded from an opening in the rock, dropping down all the way into the crystal clear lake below you. The water looked so inviting that you almost wanted to jump in, except it seemed to be at least a fifty foot drop. And even if you made it all the way down unharmed, there was the matter of getting out; you couldn’t find any exit points. There had to be one, you reasoned, because the entire cavern would be filled up with water if there wasn’t, but wherever the exit was, it seemed to be hidden under the water.

Not the ideal location for a relaxing dip.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice broke through your internal monologue. “Let’s go. I’m getting bad vibes from this place and it’s freaking me out.”

“I wonder if I can—” You took another step forward, right to the edge of the rock that supported you. You raised your flashlight, trying to make out more details from the other side of the room.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” Peter called to you from his position near the cavern entrance. “Please! Get away from the edge and let’s just go!”

You could hear the pleading in Peter’s voice, the worry that something was about to happen. As much as you wanted to stay and explore more, you felt bad for making him so anxious. You blinked your eyes once, twice, and gave your head a quick shake before turning back around to face your partner, whose face was white and eyes full of panic. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go. Sorry, I—I didn’t mean—”

As you turned around, your foot caught a crack in the rock, and you stumbled back. Your feet landed on the crumbled edge of the platform, your weight pulled you back, gravity took hold, and you fell off the ledge.

“Y/N!” Peter yelled as you dropped farther and farther down. You screamed as the wind whipped your hair around your face, and you couldn’t seem to close your eyes as you watched Peter’s face grow smaller and smaller.

You sucked in a harsh breath as you braced for your back to hit the water, finally able to close your eyes. But instead of the freezing depths of the lake that you were expecting, you felt impossible heat encase your entire body, wrapping you in an inferno and not letting go.

Your eyes remained squeezed shut. Why were you still falling? Should it really take this long? Had you already hit and been killed instantly, and this was what the afterlife was like?

A thousand thoughts flew around your already crowded mind until you realized that the air wasn’t rushing past you anymore; instead, you were rushing into it.

Your eyes flew open.

Peter’s arms were wrapped around you as he pulled the two of you up onto the ledge, one hand tight around you as the other was extended into the air, holding onto something. A white wire? A rope?

You took gasping breaths as your partner crouched and set you down on the ground, gently cradling your head in his lap.

“Y/N?” Peter asked, pushing your hair out of your face. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“I—” You brought a hand up and rubbed your eyes. The fire was concentrated in your head, making your thoughts burn like flash paper, fast and bright. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know—do what?” Peter’s eyes closed themselves off, and he looked away from you.

“How did you swing down and catch me?” You rephrased your question, sitting up on the backs of your arms. Peter’s hands fell from your face. “You were standing at the cavern entrance, and then you were at the ledge, and then you caught me. How did you do that?”

“I didn’t swing anywhere,” Peter still wouldn’t meet your gaze. “I grabbed your arm and pulled you up just before you fell completely.

“No, you didn’t,” You struggled to sit up more, still a little dazed.

“Y/N—”

“This isn’t fucking Twilight, Parker, I know what I saw!” You looked around the cavern. “There was a rope, or something, and you used it to swing down and—oh, it’s here—”

“Y/N, no—” Peter dove for the scrap white rope sitting on the ledge, but you grabbed it first, standing up after you did so.

“Why is it so sticky?” You frowned, turning the rope over in your hands. “It’s almost like a spider’s web. Where did you—?”

Your gaze flew up to Peter’s face as his eyes widened with fear.

“Y/N, I can explain.” Peter took a deep breath, and the thousand thoughts racing in your head multiplied to a million as you stared at the boy in front of you.

Peter Parker, who was from Queens. Peter Parker, who had an internship at Stark Industries. Peter Parker, who had the only internship at Stark Industries. Peter Parker, who had a full ride to university from that internship, who had senses much more powerful than yours, who hadn’t needed a flashlight to see in the dim and dark cave, who was able to swing down and grab you and save you from certain death.

Peter Parker, who wasn’t only Peter Parker.

“You’re the Spider-Man.” The words left your mouth in a whisper, like if you let them be any louder, they would be dangerous.

And with the way Peter was looking at you, you had a bad feeling that they were.

{part II}

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canaryatlaw · 6 years

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okay, so. I woke up some time before my alarm went off (I don’t remember exactly when) and quickly deduced I felt like utter crap thanks fo my period, and was just like yeah today isn’t happening, so I sent a quick email from my phone to let them know I wasn’t coming for the babies room and went back to bed. I woke up sometime around 12 or 1, something around there, to the sound of my roommate apparently cleaning our whole apartment, which was pretty great because our dirty dishes stack was growing pretty high and when I’m already stressed out about school stuff cleaning shit like just gives me even more anxiety and I legit like, cannot function with it lol so I just end up not doing it and then feel bad about it, but whatever, it’s done now. So I had some breakfast (leftover fried rice from Friday night and a few oreos) and set to work on this stupid legal drafting assignment that’s gonna be the death of me. The more I think about it the more irritated I am about my grades because like, I know, objectively, that I am a good writer. And with the last assignment I sent it to my brother, who is a bona fide lawyer to look at it first and give me feedback, and he changed a few things but ultimately said it was good so like.....is it just something about this lady that she hates my writing, even when I was actually working in the office we’re pretending to be in my supervisor thought I was the best writer and gave me super complex motions to draft and argue in super high profile cases because he believed in me that much?? I’m just hoping, praying, that there is some sort of curve to the grading, probably not the traditional curve because there’s not enough students in the class from that, but so that I don’t end up flunking the goddamn class. If I end up getting a shitty grade (which I probably will) I have half a mind to challenge the grade because it think there’s a fairly good chance I’d win on that claim, but at the same time assuming I at least pass I’ll be graduated and does it even really matter? Like one shitty grade, assuming my other ones are solid, really won’t affect my GPA very much. Sure it’ll look shitty on my transcript, but what’s one shitty grade out of 30 A’s, A-’s, and B+’s? sigh, I’m ranting. it’s just really gotten under my skin lately. Anyway. I set to start walking, but my prof hadn’t answered either of the emails I wrote her yesterday about the format of the motion or what kind of cases we should be citing, and I didn’t really know how to move forward from there, so I ended up texting the one other person in the class that I actually know, who was actually one of my mentees last year which makes me feel bad for going to him with questions lol but I didn’t have many other options here. So he clarified what exactly the format should be, so from there I started writing the introduction, and then got to the argument and figured I’d start writing the rule based arguments and then worry about the case based arguments. So I found the relevant portion of the statute, and just started typing, and before I knew it I’d written 3 full pages of argument. I always do this, I get super super anxious about writing the argument section of things because I always think I can’t do it, but then when I actually get to it, it just happens like it’s the easiest thing in the world. I just wish I could convince myself of this for once instead of going through the anxiety every damn time. Sigh. I started looking at cases again to see if I can find anything on point, which is difficult because what I’m looking for is a very specific case type, and out of those cases the courts almost always side with the state when I need cases where they side with the parents and those are pretty much nonexistent, so hopefully tomorrow my professor will answer my email regarding the cases and I can have somewhere to go from there. It was like 6:45 at that point and for some reason I was craving vanilla cupcakes, so I found a small batch recipe and started making those, popped them in the oven soon enough and got them out right before Brooklyn 99 started. It was airing two new episodes in a row tonight, and they were both fucking hilarious. This show is just so damn good, I don’t even know how to describe it. After that I figured I might as well watch the last episode of Jessica Jones season two, and much like the rest of the season, I was rather underwhelmed. The scene with them saving the family from the burning car was pretty good, but the rest of it was just.....idk, it just didn’t have any of the same appeal as the first season and was just a pretty disappointing storyline. I was especially disappointed by their storyline between Jessica and Trish, because I’d heard it was supposed to be good, but IMO it was very much....not good. I don’t really know what they were thinking there, but oh well. I was finished then so I figured I’d start watching Krypton since that was on my list to catch up on. So I watched the pilot for that, and the first half was relatively boring, but the second half was actually pretty damn good and I enjoyed it, so I’ll keep watching and see what happens going forward. And oh yeah, I did laundry sometime in between all of this, which means I accomplished all of my goals for the weekend except cleaning up the disaster area that is my room right now, but that’s alright, I can live with that. And yeah, after the episode ended I started getting ready for bed and ended up folding some laundry beforehand so the thicker items could finish drying all the way because our dryer sucks and never full dries things like jeans. sigh. but yeah, that’s about it. I have PT in the morning, but it’s supposed to be in the 20′s and snowing, so I am really not looking forward to having to deal with that. lovely. oh well. Talk to you then. Goodnight babes. Have a good one.

#daily journal #April 2018

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siempre-bucky · 7 years

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Let Me Taste Your Smile

Prof! Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: The reader and her best friend go to a bar on campus and see the gorgeous history professor and his friend casually hanging out. Makeout sessions and confessions ensue.

Word Count: 1.6k

Requests are open!

PART 2

It was Friday, classes for the week ended and it was finally time to let loose after the grueling week of college. “It’s time!” a voice rang, bringing Y/N out of her studying trance. Her best friend Scarlett entered the dorm room and plopped down onto the bed.

“Time for what?” Y/N asked, turning around in her rolling chair to face her friend. Scarlett rolled her eyes and layed down on the uncomfortable bed.

“Time to go to O'Shaughnessy’s! The new pub that opened near campus, I’ve been dying to go.”

“Can’t you go by yourself? I haven’t even started my history paper yet,” you told her, pointing at the blank Microsoft Word document on your laptop. Scarlett wasn’t having it, she stood up and shut her laptop, earning a shocked gasp.

“Get dressed…we’re going,” she commanded sternly. Y/N huffed and stomped the closet, it’s not that she didn’t want to go. She needed to get good grades to keep her scholarship…her parents always said that her education was everything.

Y/N changed into a coral tank top and a light floral blazer. tugging at her black jeans she was ready to head to the pub “You look fine, come on,” Scar whined as she opened the door.

“Phone and wallet?” she questioned.

“Already in my bag.”

The pair made into the pub after a decent 10-minute walk, the inside was like any other college pub. Dark bricks, neon lights of beer companies hanging on the wall, and of course…dosens of college students looking for a good time. The girls sat in plush green chairs as they observed the scene, Y/N saw a large crowd gather by the dart board.

Many loud cheers could be heard from across the room “I want a beer,” she said looking over at the nearly full bar.

Scarlett got up quickly and made her way over there, telling Y/N that she would be back in a few. The Y/H/C haired girl couldn’t take her eyes off the crowd…the person must have been really good. The hoard of people slightly moved away so Y/N could get a glimpse of the thrower. she realized it was none other than her history professor, Professor Stan.

He gave his bearded friend a high five in victory, “Oh my god,” Y/N whispered. he wasn’t wearing his typical suit (which he looked hella good in) he traded it for a black t shirt, red bomber jacket and a simple pair of jeans…he looked so good.

“Babe..you good?” Scarlett asked, concerned as her friend hasn’t blinked in a really long time. Y/N whipped her head to face her confused friend, taking the beer from her.

Panicked, Y/N low key pointed at the young teacher “Professor Stan is here,” she whispered.

“Well hello Professor Stan,” she nearly moaned, checking him out. But she knew Y/N was all over him, she recalled the countless times she would come home and listen to Y/N talk about literally everything about the man.

“Scarlett,” she grumbled.

“Sorry, sorry,” the blonde defended, “You should get close to him.”

Y/N shook her head vigerously, no way. “I can’t do that, what if he sees me!”

“There’s an open seat in the corner, you can stare at his perfection and still go undetected because of all the other people.” She hated to admit it…her friend was right. She took a large drink of liquid courage and sneakily made her way over to the chair.

It was a good view, she could see him and his friend throw the darts, and the crowd made good coverage. His face was beautiful, the way he frowned when he missed, but it was even better when he smiled when he hit a bullseye. She longed to taste the lips of her professor.

She didn’t expect the crowd to disperse, and she definitely didn’t expect the man’s eyes to make contact with hers. He looked a little stunned, quickly giving the darts to the other man. he walked over to her. She looked up at him, there was something different in his eyes. Sure he had looked at her all the time in class, but that didn’t compare to the look he was giving the girl as he approached, it looked like he was on a mission for something. There was a certain fire hidden in the ice color of his eyes.

“Y/N,” he spoke, making her melt into the chair, “What are you doing here?”

She tried to keep it cool, with the alcohol in her system it made it slightly easier “I’m legal Professor,” she laughed.

“Sebastian…please,” he corrected.

“Sebastian,” she whispered.

“Were you watching the whole time?” he asked, a flirty smirk on his face.

Y/N blushed and answered, “Only for a moment, you’re really good.”

“I had a lot of practice in college,” he laughed sitting on the ottoman in front of her.

The pair sat in silence for a brief moment, just looking at each other, not being able to tell if the feeling was sexual tension. “It’s odd that you’re talking to me,” she admitted.

“Why’s that?”

“Teachers usually ignore students in public.” Sebastian bit his lip and sat up straight.

“Want to get a beer?” Y/N Shrugged and stood up with him. The short walk seemed like forever, they couldn’t stop talking. This wasn’t the usual professor she saw twice a week, he was the ordinary hot guy in a bar. The one she wanted desperately to kiss her, touch her, have his way with her, just like in her fantasies.

They sat at the bar laughing with each other, drinks in hand. “This is a nice place,” she said.

“Yeah, my buddy Chris is the co-owner, he always wanted to open one,” he told her, pointing the man who was owning younger kids at darts.

“No way! You must get all the free drinks,” she joked. Sebastian caught sight of her pink lips, he wanted to respond but his attraction to his student was beginning to take over. He had a lot of self-control towards her in his classroom, but now that they were out in a public setting, maybe he could have his chance.

“Most of the time,” he took a drink “do you want to see upstairs?” he offered, biting his lips again. Y/N looked back at her friend who was giving her a thumbs up before returning her attention back to Sebastian. she gave him a nod and got off the bar stool.

Climbing the dark wood stairs she got to see the part of the bar what was still being finished, the pool hall. The man walked over to the glass windows, looking out at the street “I need to confess something,” he said lowly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow “What is it?”

“For the past 2 months I’ve had the burning desire to do something,” he started looking at her faint reflection the the glass.

“Which is?”

“Kiss you,” he spoke, turning around.

Y/N almost lost it, her face turned red and her core started to get butterflies, he felt the same way about her. She stood up straight and found the courage to say “Come closer.”

The brunette did what she said and walked up to her. The girl placed her hands on the sides of his face, feeling the stubble of his freshly shaved jawline. He closed the gap and kissed the girl with the soft pink lips.

The kiss was passionate, his lips moving quickly against hers, he then picked her up and placed her on one of the pool tables, settling himself in between her legs. She broke the kiss and ran her fingers through his soft hair “Sebastain…shuld we really be doing this?” she questioned, out of breath.

His face got closer to her’s feeling his warm breath against her lips “I see the way you look at me in class…you pay attention to me,” he whispered, biting her lower lip, then releasing it. “But you’re not paying attention to the lecture, you watch me Y/N. The way my lips move as I tell you about World War 2, you see my ass as I write something on the board.”

He kisses her again with more desire, his tongue fighting for dominance against hers. Y/N placed her hand on the side of his neck, pulling away from him. He didn’t stay away from her for long, attacking her neck with rough kisses and sucks, he wanted to leave his mark.

“I watch you too. I love watching you bite your lip when you concentrate on your notes. Your smile when you talk to your friends, I want to taste it,” he moaned. She moaned back at the mild pain she felt, knowing it was going to be a large mark on her neck.

Sebastian started to focus on the other side, taking his hand and pushing back the hair that covered her neck “I want you,” she moaned, “I always have.”

“That’s going to have to wait until after the semester Doll,” he laughed, sex dripping from his voice. She threw her head back and pulled at his shirt. He recaptured her lips and took turns biting each other’s lower lips.

Y/N pushed him back “Am I more than this?” she asked him.

Sebastian’s eyes looked into hers, the way he looked at her, it was truly believable “Yes, Y/N. During the break, I would like to be a true gentleman and take you on a date…far from this school,” he chuckled.

“I will hold you to that, Seb,” she said, “Can we continue?”

Sebastian placed his hands on her back and laid her back on the table “Whatever you want, Baby,” he whispered, kissing her agian.

A/N: part 2?

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