#Biochemistry Field

[wickedzeevyln]

Teachers

Passive receptacles—two words, one adjective, one noun, when put together make up the most mundane description to denigrate students who couldn’t keep their eyes from shutting and lulling themselves into a trance rather than endure her nightmare. She dared the empty bodies strapped in the arm chairs to raise a question and challenge her superior intellect, and I thought this was a perfect…

[m4lexxx67]

I should be reading my book on organic chemistry because I have the exam in like a month and I haven't learned shit yet bc my professor fucking sucks. But why does the book have to be so... idk, it's not even really boring cause I do find it kinda interesting how different groups in molecules affect the reaction but like... the reality and act of having to actively try and learn all this, just SUCKS. I don't want to memorize all these stupid mechanisms and then when you adjust the temperature something totally different happens and I need to know that. Not even that, I need to be able to tell what reaction happens based on the reactants and like... I wouldn't mind knowing that, but I also wouldn't mind if I didn't but I'll fail my exam if I don't. I just really don't want to put in the work because I don't like it enough because it's fucking organic chemistry and of course I have to do FOUR FUCKING SEMESTERS of this shit and I'm already hating the first WHYYYYYY 😭😭

[jellophoid]

allergies are acting up so I’m wide awake but I’m thinking about how Mia Winters got to connections again and I’m feeling so sick

[quill-of-thoth]

Okay but. Tiny swimming things on europa are more exciting, conceptually, than an alien civilization. Alien civilizations, and travel between solar systems, and people who we can talk to who aren’t us make great storytelling. But from a physics standpoint actually talking to aliens is an almost certain impossibility - for all the proposed solutions to faster than light space travel or instant communication, it’s likely that those problems are just too large in scale for it to be possible for us, or actually any civilization in the universe, ever, to solve them.  I know I talk about scale problems a lot but I think it’s one place where we don’t actually get enough scientific literacy education and that leads to people making policy and personal decisions based on presuming that science fiction is a “when” question instead of a “what if.” Say you could, I don’t know, reliably manipulate particles that exist also as fields rather than waves throughout the universe, potentially fixing the problems of communication degrading across the lightyears and also the speed of light meaning that we’re anywhere from four and a half years to the entire age of the universe away from getting any information from planets outside our solar system. You would still need someone on the other end to know how to build apparatuses that send information BACK. Then there’s faster than light travel, an even worse problem because it would probably require energy, and the scale problem gets worse, because you’re hoping to send STUFF rather than subatomic particles, and it’s very possible that there does not physically exist enough energy in possibly the universe to send, say, an intact car with living creatures in it, fast enough for those creatures to make it at enough under the speed of light to survive, even to our nearest neighbor Alpha Centauri. Even if we sent microbes and not people, even if it took us ten years to get to Alpha Centauri instead of the four and a half ish at lightspeed. Even if we sent a mars rover’s great great grand-bot to Alpha Centauri with some sort of decision-making process baked in and resigned ourselves to being spectators to a robot’s exploration half a decade after the fact.  Maybe physics gets weird in ways that we cannot predict that make this a less impossible problem. We’re not close to that. It probably seemed like we could be to people last century who thought “we’ve split an atom, the next frontier could be anything” but we knew that atoms consisted of separate parts since before 1900: it’s fundamental to how chemistry actually works, and we were poking around in predicting the results of chemistry during basically the entire 1800′s. We had an okay knowledge of what happened but not WHY.  Back to biochemistry, instead of physical chemistry: instead of the chemistry proliferation of the 1800′s, we have the proliferation of genetics in the 1900′s. We know (because genetics is a step up in complexity from chemistry: DNA is a complex, self assembling chemical process that exists only because with large enough chemicals there are very specific arrangements where it takes less energy to stay in shape than to dissolve into component parts - this is super simplified by the way -) and we’re still working on it. We’re going to be working on it for a lot longer than the idea of particles within an atom because there is so much more of it.  (There is also a LOT going the other direction, particles within particles, which is why we now know that the Higgs Boson exists instead of being so theoretical that it was nicknamed the god particle, but we have immense scale problems studying subatomic particles, and we don’t have the same problem for chemistry or biochemistry. Or microbiology. Time to re-enter europa.) The things Europa microbes could teach us in the fields of microbiology / biochemistry are way more important to our current state of knowledge as a species than if we could magically get cell signal to Alpha Centauri. We know how a lot of biochemical processes work, and why when they’re purely chemical. 

For example, we know that the lipid layer surrounding cells exists because, for chemical reasons, one end of a lipid hates touching water and the other doesn’t mind. So you put a bunch of lipid molecules in water and they self-assemble into little clumps, with their water-hating ends inward. Put enough in and stir and you get bubbles of lipid, where there’s water inside the bubble but the lipid is forming a layer, like a sheet of paper but impossibly thinner, water hating ends mashed together while the other ends look out into two separate seas. One sea has more salt than the other, but that’s okay: salt ions are so much smaller than lipids that they can just wiggle through the barrier. The lipids will turn a tiny tiny bit so the water hating ends don’t touch the ions, which they also don’t like much. The inner and outer seas make sure they have roughly the same amount of ions, and in doing so make sure they can have single atoms pass through. Water is only three atoms large. A lipid is about sixty atoms large. An amino acid is about twenty atoms large, and it mostly stays inside the inner sea if that’s where it starts out. The outer sea is more turbulent - complex proteins don’t form in it without breaking apart. The inner sea is calmer. Some proteins get so large that when they fold on themselves to reach the most compact structures they start having physical behaviors, like the motion stored in a tightly wound spring. Some proteins move in ways that interact with other proteins, without changing anything about their chemical composition. Somewhere in all this we get systems of proteins, and this is where we reach the unknown WHY stage, that get complex enough that they start assembling other chemicals, which in turn tell other proteins how to make more proteins. And sugars. And - well a hell of a lot of chemicals, it turns out. If you have some idea of how many grains of rice is a billion, you still don’t understand how many cells are in a moderately sized mammal. The scale difference between a million and a billion is not QUITE the same as the scale difference between a billion and a trillion but we’re getting close. The scale difference between an atom and a virus is similar to the scale difference between humans and the sun, in that math doesn’t quite break down when we think about it, but our ability to do math without technical aids does.  Europan life, no matter how unicellular, could teach us a lot about WHY life works this way. If they have the same proteins (or enough of the same) we can be reasonably sure that a lot of the chemical building blocks of life are simply the most durable organizations of specific chemicals in tiny envelopes of water. If they don’t, we’ll know that we need to broaden our search. If Europan life was microbes and viruses we would eventually know enough about them to track their evolution. If it was weird enough - say it lacked DNA and RNA - we would be able to discover a completely different principal of chemical self-organization leading to life. Theorizing a genetic structure that isn’t DNA/RNA in enough detail to be worth studying is a ludicrous amount of work: we are currently gamely trying to find different possible folds for individual proteins, which are usually smaller, by a combination of sheer computing power and luck.  A decade ago when I was actually taking microbio, it was infinitely faster and cheaper in terms of energy to have humans propose protein arrangements and have computers check them: shout out to https://fold.it/, which you can still play for the sake of science. The rise of machine learning AI hasn’t made a dent here: it likely won’t. The scale difference between colored pixels or individual word arrangements and the folds of a protein is probably also like the difference between a human and the sun. Finding life on Europa, whether it’s different than our microbes or not, could be the kind of connection in the field of molecular biology that discovering the individual components of the core of an atom one after another in the early 1800′s was: the Why that births a dozen new fields.  TLDR: a microbe not of this world is a larger amount of information than being able to talk directly to an alien and infinitely less impossible. 

do you believe in aliens

yeah but in the very boring "there's probably some tiny things swimming around on europa" way, not in the flying saucers way

[pathologicalreid]

an ode to a conversation stuck in your throat | s.r.

in which Spencer tries to talk you out of taking a job across the country

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: miscommunication (sigh), very cheesy, brief mention of wine, defining the relationship, insecure spencer, easily confused reader, chemist!reader word count: 1.04k a/n: if i could go a week without writing a dwg song fic that would be crazy. also surprise it's chemist!reader again.

"Thanks for stopping so I could change,” you say to Spencer, leading the way into your apartment and locking the door behind you. “I’m sure lab dress code and David Rossi dress code are miles apart,” you continue, hanging your backpack on the wall.

Spencer hums in response, “You’d look great in anything you wear.”

Your face warms at the compliment, “You’re sweet. You can just wait out here, I shouldn’t be more than a couple of minutes,” you gesture to the living room, smiling at him before heading off to your room.

Nervously, you pull off your lab-safe attire and discard all of it into the laundry hamper before putting on the dress you’d chosen for dinner tonight. It’s not overly fancy, but you hope his team will like it. You hope his team will like you.

Looking at yourself in your dresser mirror, you reconsider your choice of shoes, switching from a pair of kitten heels to flats before walking out the door, “Hey, Spence, is Rossi’s patio heated, or should I bring a sweater for when the sun goes down?” You stop in your tracks when you find Spencer, still in the entryway, looking at the color-coded whiteboard calendar you keep by your front door, “What’s up?”

His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his slacks, and he looks upset. What’s worse is you think he might be upset with you. “What’s this dinner you have planned next Friday?”

You feel like a child who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t be, draping the proposed sweater over the back of a kitchen stool and crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s a work dinner,” you answer nervously.

“With?” Spencer asks, but he’s not pushy about it, there’s something desperate in his tone.

Pursing your lips, you look at the purple writing on the calendar, “The chair of Biochemistry and Molecular Genetics at Northwestern, and a representative from the college's dean. They’re offering me a job with a private lab and my own team of researchers… so they’re taking me out to dinner.”

Spencer’s face fell, “They’re offering you a job in Chicago?”

“Well, that’s where Northwestern is. Evanston, if you want to get technical about it,” you respond, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

He looks at you dumbfoundedly, “I don’t want to get technical about it. When were you going to tell me that you’re taking a job in Chicago?” It almost seems like he’s afraid.

You raise your eyebrows in curiosity, you’ve been seeing each other for a month, and you’ve never known Spencer to jump to conclusions. “I’m not,” you tell him, keeping your tone void of any accusation, “They’re just taking me to dinner.”

Spencer sighs, “But they’re offering you a job. In a different state. In a different timezone.”

Admittedly, he was beginning to sound a bit ridiculous to you, “Don’t you field offers from colleges all the time? They want you to teach or tell you to become Spencer Reid, PhD, PhD, PhD, PhD, or whatever?” 

His eyes follow you as you move to sit down at the kitchen counter, “It never gets as far as dinner.”

“I’m not taking the job,” you tell him simply, shrugging your shoulders demurely.

Spencer falters at that, knitting his brows together as he tries to piece together the answers you’re willingly giving him, “If you’re not taking the job then why are you going to dinner with them?”

Hiding a small smile, you give him the truth, “They pick up the tab. I go to a lot of these and I get good food out of the deal. These people love to schmooze but I’ve never been offered anything that I would be inclined to accept.” This specific job seemed perfect on the surface, but they weren’t willing to let you choose what to research. That was non-negotiable for you.

“I could schmooze you,” he insists, “You don’t need other people to schmooze you.”

You giggle at him, waving him over to you so you can look him in the eyes when you tell him, “I go for free food and good wine. No other reason.” Your smile was gentle, but inside your heart was pounding. He was scared I was going to leave, you think to yourself.

He sighs, “Will you… will you tell me in the future when you get these dinner offers?” His voice is tentative, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll think he’s asking too much of you.

Nodding, you reach out and take one of his hands in yours, “I can, but I didn’t think were at the ‘I’m being courted by another workplace, and I wanted to let you know’ stage yet. That’s kind of a girlfriend thing,” you explain.  

Spencer frowns, “Aren’t you?”

Tilting your head to the side, you look at him curiously, “Aren’t I what?”

“My girlfriend,” he clarifies.

Your eyes go wide, “Oh! I didn’t think so, I thought you had to ask yet.” Although you’re far from a relationship expert, you’d had to ask your PhD advisee what to wear before your first date with Spencer.

The panicked look on his face returns, “I’ve been telling people you’re my girlfriend. Should I not have been doing that?”

Shaking your head, you beam up at him, “I don’t mind. I just thought you had to ask about that kind of thing.”

“I don’t know,” he admits, “I’ve never really done this before.”

The two of you sit in an awkward silence for a moment before you decide to speak up again, “So, just so we’re on the same page. I’m not moving to Chicago.”

Spencer frowns again, and you have to hold yourself back from using your thumb to smooth out the crease on his forehead, “Will you?”

Confused, you lean your head back, “Move to Chicago?”

“Be my girlfriend,” he amends quickly.

You nod, “I would love to.”  

“And just so we’re on the same page,” he ducks his head down, so close to a kiss that it makes you feel dizzy, “I like to think I’m the only one who can really court you.”

Laughing, you lean forward and peck his lips, “I would be insulted if you didn’t think that.”

[tinydefector]

Rut cycle- Prowl

Prowl x human

Word count: 1.1k

Warning: Smut, size difference, thigh fucking.

Masterlist

Rut cycle masterlist

Prowl masterlist

____________________

 Prowls eyes linger on them as he pulls them away from the Decepticons lingering gaze. His doorwings twitch in agitation as he extracts them from yet another cluster of hormonally compromised Mechs. 

His optics flare in the red zone as they squirm in his unforgiving grip, He moves quickly with them until the door to one of the rooms shuts. A deep snarl leaves his frame as blue optics narrow in on their body. They gasp as Prowl pins them in place. Eyes flicking up to his optics as they both stare at each other, neither willing to talk at that moment.  

Prowl's Field radiates pulsing waves of disapproval and barely-restrained need as his optics bore down into their eyes. "Foolish little organic," he growls, "Did you truly believe yourself exempt from the rules, inserting yourself into that den of hormonal deviants? We Autobots prize control, but even the strictest protocols fracture under chemical bombardment. One wrong move and you risk a lot more than you can withstand!" 

 Their mouth hangs open in a small shocked face before Prowl is hit with the wafting scent. The sweet scent almost like crystal Energex with Mercury hits his sensors and it makes him growl again. "I'm sorry I didn't know, I just thought you guys would all appreciate some energon while dealing with negotiations," they stutter, body tense as he holds them against the wall.

A guttural snarl rumbles Prowl's chassis at the sensory overloads assailing systems.  The intoxicating cocktail of hormones and pheromones soaked through hsi plating to the point he knows that if he were to leave the room he would still be able to smell them on his plating. 

coolant floods his interface array, lubricating. His spike pressurises against the locked panel, sending him insane with how his frame responds to them. He wanted so desperately to frag them into oblivion and back for the teasing and suffering it was causing.

"Foolish...Slagging Human," he huffs beside their ear, it sends a shutter up their spine from how close Prowl was, they are nearly caged in against the wall as he speaks slowly to them. A growled curse spews Prowl's vocoder as he pulls back before he could let his intake even taste their skin. 

" Are you truly so naive?" he rumbles, optics boring into them. His grip is almost bruising to the fragile tissue of their body. "Did you fail to notice every Decepticon in the room following your biochemistry trail like glitch hounds?, given the chance they would have scooped you up, used and discarded you without a thought."

Prowl's fans roar at the images assaulting processing units. The thought of them spread atop of his spike, taking as much as they physically can, whimpered moans of his name leaving them as transfluid weep from their used holes. His frame strains at the thought, plating and his wings fluttering at the thought. His optics focus back on their wide eyes. And then it occurred to him, You were playing the fool. “you enjoy Flaunting around base like its a show and shine don't you” he huffs

Vents expel hot gusts across their face as his field bleeds need. They shiver, eyes watching his optics. "I wasn't flaunting myself, I was just making sure you all have energon,  I know how stressed you all get when Decepticons are involved with anything. didn't know you were in a negotiation with them at the time" they state softly only to gasp as Prowl pulls them closer. A strangled keen escapes Prowl's vocalizer at their confession. 

 Optics flaring near-white, Prowl presses them to the inferno of his spike housing, letting them feel the heat that radiates off the plating. One word, and he would spill transfluid in torrents to claim them utterly as his, to unlatch his Interface panel and coat them is his fluid for all to know. 

"That sounds like a lie to me Bits," he rasps. His thumb meets their bottom lip, pressing against the soft flesh before he slowly presses harder. “Mouth, open, now” he orders, tone deep and husky. A low rumbled moan leaves him when they open their mouth. He presses his thumb down against their tongue. “Suck” the roiling pheromones melding their scents into a single intoxicating melody has him groaning in need as he slowly grinds his interface panel between their thighs, each grind has him groaning and hissing out vented air, his fans kicking up a storm. 

Prowl's optics flicker dangerously as panels withdraw, baring his weeping spike.Their eyes widen as they look up at him dumb found as it rests against their stomach. Prowl stiffens a keen, his own fever-glazed optics stare down at them as if they are meat. “My little Spike sleeve aren't you, so willing to have my transfluid” he coos as the bright Pink liquid slowly soaks into their clothing. His engine revs loudly as he grinds against them enjoying the way they wiggle and squirm. 

A smile graces his faceplate, watching as he turns them into the divine sight of sin and pleasure. He lets out a static laced moan as his thumb leaves their mouth letting them take in a shaky breath, his digit dig into their clothing, nearly spreading each layer of fabric as he thrust against their body. “Look at you, so desperate,” he rumbles in delight. He traces a pattern over their stomach. “this is how far my spike would reach in you, I could destroy that pretty little body of yours. You'd like that wouldn't you” he chuckles. 

Moans and whimpers leave their lips,  “Prowl” they cry out, wrapping their legs around his spike tightly as he begins to rut against their body. “Mmm, so good for me” he rumbles. Each grind of his spike has him closer and closer to overload as transfluid runs down their stomach and legs. 

Prowl lets out a loud snarl as his system flashes warning signs, more and more transfluid gushes from him as he lets out a static whine. His overload hits hard as he coats them, more and more shimmering pink fluid runs off their frame. Prowls fans whirring loudly as heated vents brush their body. He runs a digit through his finish before bringing it to their lips. “Suck” He orders with another smile. 

 eagerly take his digits into their mouth, a sound of approval leaves the mech as watches in delight. “perfect little slagger” he hums before leaning down to kiss them, their hands grab onto his faceplate as they kiss him back with vigour. “Have you learned your lesson?” he asked, only to get a nod in response. 

“your to get dressed and meet me back at my Hub, if you aren't spread out on my berth when I get there after these reports I'll be taking you wherever I find you, do you understand?” he raises an optic brow as his blue optics zone in on them.

 “Yes Sir” 

“run along then and stay out of trouble” 

____________________

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[zhenne]

boss’ daughter — mini series masterlist !

dr.zayne + f.reader

syn. ZAYNE WITH THE DAUGHTER OF THE HOSPITAL’S CHAIRMAN

wc. 2.6k (updated after each part)

warnings. fem reader, reader is not mc, slow burn, eventual smut, mentions of smoking (reader), mentions of alcohol, use of y/n, colleagues to friends to lovers, probably ooc, slight age gap (reader is 20-23, Zayne is 28-30: pick your poison)

[ pt. 1 ] [ pt. 2 ] [ pt. 3 ]

[ intro ] — wc. 1.1k

Shit. You can’t help the frustration welling up in your chest. It was dark, rainy, and above all else, you were exhausted. As if matters couldn’t get worse, your chauffeur had been called in to assist the chairman, your father, with other business partners – effectively leaving you stranded outside the hospital’s back entrance. Calm down, Y/N, you tell yourself, taking a deep breath to quiet your tired irritation. 

You had been called to the hospital to monitor a board meeting while your father was attending a private convention hosted by a sister hospital. Usually, your duties were more prevalent by title than actual business ministrants, but there was little room for arguing when you knew you had the credentials to be deemed an appropriate substitute. 

While you appreciated the medical field and all the professionals within their respective departments, medicine was not your passion. Despite this, your family deemed it vital that you attend a prestigious university and earn highest marks towards degrees in Public Health, Biochemistry, and —eventually—Doctor of Medicine. You do well enough in your studies, ranking within the top 10 of your class, but it felt listless, a secondhand dedication. 

You clutch the handle of your umbrella tighter as a cold gust tunnels through the channel of highrise buildings. Fuck, if you knew you’d be stranded you would have just called a cab, but you knew your chances of getting one as the evening rush loomed into fullswing were next to none. Grumbling under your breath, you smooth the front of your dress’ skirt down, ignoring the chill seeping into your skin. 

Just as you were about to count your losses and spend the next hour futilely waiting for an open taxi, you hear soft, measured steps coming from behind you. 

“Are you waiting for someone, Miss L/N?” 

Dr. Zayne. You immediately recognize him – how could you not? He’s one of the hospital’s most accomplished, not to mention most attractive, doctors. You’ve had a handful of professional conversations with him, though they seldom lasted more than three turns of pleasant respects. You usually sought to avoid the doctor, despite his calm and, albeit standoffish, demeanor. You told yourself it was simply because you had no desire to exchange faux pleasantries, but a small truth lay in the fact you were bashful around him, embarrassingly so. 

The independent, educated, prodigal daughter of the Asko chairman, reduced to a blushing mess because of the mere presence of a handsome doctor? The thought had you chewing on the inside of your cheek as you quietly mutter, “Good evening, Dr. Zayne.” You want to cringe with how nervous your voice sounds, you hope he blames it on the chilling rain. “And no, I’m afraid my driver is busy attending to another assignment.” 

You finally risk a gauging glance at him under his own black umbrella, noting the hint of dark circles under his lashes. Something small pangs in your chest. Pushing it aside, you give him a small bow, a polite smile on your face. “I should go to the main entrance, please excuse me.”

His smooth voice stops you from bolting to the door. “Are you planning to take a cab home, then?”

You blink up at him, head tilting ever so slightly, brows gently pinched together, “Well, yes, that appears to be my only option..” And you swear you see the corners of his mouth twitch, just the ghost of a shift. 

“I’ll give you a ride, don’t worry.”

You hate it, the way heat immediately creeps to your face. You shouldn’t be blushing like some high school girl in front of her crush, you’re an adult, dammit. And besides, it’s just a friendly offer, right? Just a colleague helping out a coworker. Right? So why was your face so red?

“Hm?” you try to catch your faltering expression, mustering an air of professional courtesy. “Oh, that’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“It’d be rude to leave a young woman by herself in a time of need.” You swear you feel every ounce of feminism leaving your body as he steps off the curb of the sidewalk, offering you his hand. “Besides, you’ll catch a cold if you stay out in this weather for much longer.”

With that, you wordlessly accept his hand, carefully stepping down to make sure your heels don’t trip you. He releases your hand once you’re on steady feet, and you follow behind him as he leads you to the hospital’s underground garage. The rain that was drizzling atop your umbrellas quiets as you stare at his back. Broad shoulders are visible even under his suit jacket, and it has you wondering what other secrets are hiding under the surface of the private doctor. 

Your wandering thoughts are cut off when you make it to his car. You offer a quiet murmur of thanks as he holds the passenger door open for you. You take the five seconds it takes for him to round the car to quell your rapid heartbeat, praying he doesn’t notice the tension in your hands. 

“You live near the park in District 19, right?” 

You nod, marginally surprised he remembers that small detail. “Yes, on the eastern side of the city.”

Zayne lets out a small hum of acknowledgment before adjusting the dials on the console, a soft waft of heat alleviating the cold from your skin. 

The drive is mostly silent aside from the subdued sounds of the radio. Luckily, your apartment isn’t too far of a drive, but being confined to a shared space with Zayne for 20 minutes made your nerves alight with restlessness. 

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, the fluorescents of passing buildings reflected off the wet streets, casting an incandescent smear of color on the windshield. Your hands absentmindedly fidget in your lap, your teeth gently chewing on your lower lip.

“Thank you again, Dr. Zayne,” you finally manage to speak. “I truly appreciate your kindness.”

The surgeon gives a small dip of his chin, his hands skimming over the steering wheel as he pulls into a parking spot in front of your building. “It was no trouble at all, I’m happy to have been of help.”

And that was that. Just a cordial, professional favor between two associates. You just couldn’t figure out why, as you stood in the vacant elevator to your apartment, your heart felt like it was going to ricochet off your ribs and out of your chest.

[clareguilty]

Ghost/Soap/Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink

This fic was written for Kinktober 2024! Let me know what you think <3

Ghost/Soap/F!Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink, strength kink, dacryphilia Rating: Explicit | WARNINGS: EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT Word Count: ~3400

The last thing you expected when you answered the knock on your office door was the sight of two uniformed soldiers, both broad enough to fill the entire doorway each, expressions grave. You ushered them inside your small, cluttered office tucked away in the biochemistry wing of the university building. Being the head of the pharmacology department did not come with a sprawling mahogany desk and glorious window views. You were lucky to have a desk and a window at all.

Still, you were the best in your field, and that had granted you tenure and funding to continue your research as well as a small team of graduate students and postdocs to boss around as you pleased.

One of the soldiers introduced himself as Captain Price, the other a corporal under his command. You cleared off space on your desk as the corporal opened a locked case and pulled out a laptop.

“Anything you are about to see is highly classified information,” the captain warned you. “Our intel pertains to ongoing operations to stop a dangerous organized terrorist group.”

You nodded along, but your focus was on the footage being played on the laptop. The drone shots and shaky handheld cameras, clips of lab workers handling samples while suited head to toe in protective equipment. There was footage of soldiers experiencing a variety of symptoms: aggression, paralysis, psychosis.

The corporal opened a file for you to scroll through. Pages and pages of reports.

“Biochemical weapons,” you murmured to yourself. “Inhalants?”

“Gas,” the captain confirmed. “Your security clearance is still in the system from your field work on that operation in Andorra. Our people are using your research as the blueprint.”

You were the leading expert on biochemical weaponry, much of your research was centered around synthesizing field antidotes. It had been a few years since you were last out in the field, taking samples from warzones and the sites of attacks.

“You need me out there?” You asked. But you already knew the answer. They wouldn’t be here in your office otherwise.

“You’ll be working with our top tactical operations team. The best men we’ve got. Whatever they’re making in these labs, we need to put a stop to it, and then we need to figure out how they’re doing it.”

You looked at the footage again - civilians this time - and felt your stomach turn at the sight.

“When’s the earliest we can leave?” You asked, closing the laptop to hide the horrifying images.

-

The body armor on your last field operation had been simple: a bullet proof vest with a mask and helmet. You had worn your civilian clothes and brought along everything else yourself.

“Alright, Dove, arms up,” the special forces sergeant, Soap, grinned as he dropped a heavy vest over your head. You dutifully raised your arms so he could fasten the tangle of buckles until you were secured.

“Thanks,” you glanced down at the overwhelming amount of gear that was now covering your front.

“You’ve got your radio,” he tapped the top left pocket, “Compass, shears, three mags of extra ammunition, scopes, batteries, and torch.” You watched him point out each item. “On your belt here you’ve got your pistol, knife, and canteen.”

Soap put his own gear on much faster than it had taken to kit you out. He carried even more equipment, but he somehow made it look easier.

You had been staying at the temporary base with Captain Price’s 141 task force for days now. Without access to quality lab equipment, you were working tirelessly to find answers about the biochemical weaponry using whatever was available. As impressive as your makeshift setup was, it wasn’t near precise or thorough enough to save lives.

It felt a little ridiculous. A researcher surrounded by a bunch of special forces giants. They were welcoming and friendly - except for the terrifying lieutenant with the skull mask, but you knew you were out of your depth surrounded by cases full of rifles and grenades. Sleeping on a cot and eating rations cooked off a gas burner.

Captain Price had done whatever he could to make you more comfortable. The encampment was a few secured buildings and several large tents. And while you were accustomed to the conditions after your previous field research, they had afforded you as much privacy as possible. 

Underneath the teasing and jokes, Soap was kind and friendly. He’d nicknamed you their ‘peace dove’ on the first day, and you hadn’t been able to shake the moniker since.

Even Lieutenant Ghost had been considerate as you tried to keep up with the heavy military jargon and unfamiliar protocols. He slipped you candy bars that were definitely against regulations and sat with you after the countless briefings to explain all of the commands that had flown over your head rapid-fire. He was still scary.

The last military squadron you had worked alongside had mostly ignored you, frustrated with your inexperience and occasionally downright cruel. They hadn’t respected your expertise or your research despite your attempts to explain how vital it was to their safety.

There was none of that here.

After several days of monitoring intel and surveillance, Price had finally made the call to infiltrate the terrorist labs. The only way to stop these weapons would be to secure the materials themselves.

Soap and Ghost were assigned to clear out any hostiles, and your mission was to gather anything in the labs that would help to stop production of the weapons and synthesize antidotes.

It was difficult to keep up with them as they closed in on the lab. You had been instructed to hang back a ways while they engaged, but even then you were struggling to match their pace.

You had never known anyone who could make an assault rifle look small until these men. Like they were holding a toy. Despite their size, both the sergeant and the lieutenant were exceptionally fast even with all their gear.

As you approached the location of the terrorists’ labs, Ghost signaled for all of you to halt. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you into a crouch inside a copse of brush where you would be able to keep cover.

“Stay here. We’ll engage the hostiles and bring you in as soon as the site is secure,” he ordered.

Both he and Soap immediately made to move in, but you managed to catch Soap by the hand. “Be careful,” you warned. “We have no clue what kind of shit they’re cooking up in there.”

“Don’t worry, Dove. We’ll do just fine,” Soap promised with a grin.

And then they were gone.

The silence that filled in after their retreating boot steps was excruciating. The sharp cracks of gunfire that rang out in short bursts were somehow even worse. You couldn’t radio in without risking the operation - the noise could give away their position - so you were left waiting until Ghost signaled the all clear. As the minutes dragged on since the last round of shots, you prayed you wouldn’t have to fall back on your contingency extraction: if you didn’t hear from either Soap or Ghost after two hours, you were to make your way to a designated pickup spot.

Your radio crackled.

“You there, Dovie?” Soap’s voice came through. He sounded uninjured.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” That was Ghost this time. “We’ve eliminated all hostiles. Give us ten more minutes to secure the site, and then I’ll send Soap to come get you.”

“Copy that.” An unbelievable amount of tension seemed to melt out of you at that, and you let out a heavy sigh.

Not even a minute later you heard a distant bang. Not gunfire. A small explosion.

“Lieutenant?” You immediately called over the radio. “What was that?”

“Fucking hell!” Soap shouted. “The lab was rigged!”

“Lieutenant?” You were already pushing to your feet, rushing out of the safety of your cover and towards the labs.

“We tripped something,” Ghost finally responded. “They had canisters set to burst if the lab was tampered with.”

“You mean you got dosed?” Your fingers were numb with fear as you fumbled with your radio. “Are you experiencing any symptoms? I’m on my way now!”

The radio was silent for a few moments, but you were sprinting as fast as you could toward the site. If you could get there quick enough, maybe you could find an antidote somewhere in the labs. They wouldn’t know what to look for, but if you could find out what was in those canisters, surely you could fix this.

“Wait, Dovie,” Soap’s voice was rough, breathy. “Stay where you are. Don’t come near here.”

“I’m the only chance you have at finding an antidote,” you shouted into the radio.

“Hold your position. Do not approach. That is an order,” Ghost snarled, but you were already at the entrance, flying through the path of carnage Soap and Ghost had left. The satellite images in the briefing had given you a rough idea of where you needed to go, and the trail of bodies confirmed you were on the right track.

As you came up on the entrance to the labs, someone tackled you into the wall, pinning you in place. You screamed, but a gloved hand covered your mouth.

“It’s just me,” Soap assured you. “But you shouldn’t have run in here without your weapon drawn. Shouldn’t have come in here at all.” He pulled his hand away so you could gulp down a breath.

“Whatever you were hit with, they might have an antidote. If I can get to it before it’s too late-“

Soap cut you off. “You’re worse than me at following orders.”

”Let me go.” You tried to squirm out of his hold.

Soap made a choked off sound in your ear. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s the gas. I swear. We didn’t know the lab was rigged.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Jesus, Dove, you have to forgive me. Promise? I can’t fight it.”

“Whatever it is, you’ll be okay. Just let me go, Soap.”

He was pinning you in place with his entire body weight, panting against the back of your neck as he easily kept you still despite your attempts to break free.

Thankfully, you heard the sound of heavy boots approaching. That had to be Ghost.

He rounded the corner and you cried out. “Lieutenant! Please, sir!”

Ghost snarled when he saw you trapped beneath Soap. He crossed the room in three easy strides and ripped the sergeant off of you. Soap hit the floor with a groan, and you tried to back away.

Except the Ghost was closing in on you, knife drawn. He cornered you easily, and the fear had you freezing in place. You weren't a trained soldier. You weren't equipped to handle these kinds of situations.

You flinched as Ghost grabbed for you, squeezing your eyes shut and preparing for the worst, but there wasn't any pain - just the sound of tearing fabric and the sensation of your body armor falling away to a heap on the floor.

“Gotta get these off you,” he growled, crowding even closer against you. His voice wasn’t nearly as rough or as breathless as Soap’s. When you finally worked up the courage to open your eyes, Ghost was leant over you with his face in your neck taking deep inhales. Was he… smelling you?

They’d both been dosed. You had never seen symptoms like these before, but it wasn’t a typical toxin. Surely you could find an antidote if they just let you go.

And then Soap was back, pawing at the space between your bodies. “Please, Ghost,” he was begging, “feels like I’m about to die. Fuck. Need it so bad.”

Ghost pulled away from your neck, reached out to grab Soap by the jaw, holding him still. There was a moment of quiet save for both yours and Soap’s panicked breathing. “Alright, Johnny.” He finally assented. “You gotta go easy, you hear? Don’t wanna break her.”

You didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but struggling was absolutely useless when Ghost was holding a knife. You knew what he was capable of.

It was too quick for you to even register. Soap was fast. He snatched the knife from Ghost and cut your clothes away, taking you down to the ground with some sort of wrestling maneuver you were never going to escape from.

“I’m so sorry, Dove,” Soap was apologizing again. “Can’t fucking help it.”

He shoved his own gloves and gear away, fumbling to open his trousers before freeing his cock. He was achingly hard, and dripping. He was also fucking huge. His eyes fluttered shut in relief as he wrapped his hands around the length and gave a few lazy strokes, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that would be all it took.

“Please,” you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Don’t fuss,” Soap placed a finger over your lips to quiet you, then he shoved it inside your mouth. You weren’t sure if biting him would end well for you. He grabbed your legs by the knees, raising your hips until your pussy was on display for him. “That’s a good girl.” He spit on his fingertips and began rubbing at your entrance, as if that would be enough lube.

He pressed two fingers inside of you, but you were so terrified that it didn’t feel right at all. It hurt. You screamed, and suddenly Ghost was there.

“This is the only way to help,” he said, and you noticed he had a silver canister in his hands. “I promise this will make it easier.”

You didn’t have enough time to react before he crushed the canister with just his gloved hands. A deafening hiss drowned out the sounds of your own sobs and your vision went white as the contents of the canister filled the air. You couldn’t hold your breath at all, not when you were sobbing with gasps of pain. The gas settled over your skin, inside your mouth and nose. You instinctively swiped your tongue against your teeth and cheeks. It tasted powdery and sour.

“Give her a second, Johnny,” Ghost ordered.

You were almost glad they had cut your clothes away because your skin was suddenly too warm. Too clammy. Your mouth went from bitter and dry to watering with saliva in a matter of seconds. Every sensation felt sharper, and the pain disappeared. Soap was just as warm where you were pressed against him, and his fingers inside you were now drenched in slick wetness.

How were they even able to think like this? They’d been dealing with these symptoms for longer than you and somehow still had control of themselves. You had been exposed to the gas for less than a minute and all rational thought had left you.

“That’s a good girl,” Ghost’s voice reached you through the drunken haze and you whined. “Spread yourself nice and open on Johnny’s fingers.”

Oh. You were fucking your hips against Soaps’ hand. He was watching the sight with his pupils blown wide as he pressed a third finger inside of you. The stretch felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” you begged. “More. Please.”

Soap curled his fingers inside you and you cried out. He held your hips still with his free hand so he could fuck you harder on his fingers. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he had you gushing over his wrist in a matter of seconds.

“Gonna fuck you now.” He settled between your thighs. All you could do was beg because his finger hadn’t been enough. “Gonna breed you full, alright, Dove?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you panted.

You would never have been able to take his cock if Ghost hadn’t dosed you with the gas. Even after the rough fingerfucking you still cried out at the stretch. But it didn’t hurt this time. You loved the way he filled you, the sensation of him sinking deeper inside.

He was too impatient at this point. Had been holding himself back for too long. The moment his cock bottomed out inside you it was like his final thread of control snapped. You were long past him, having never once stood a chance after Ghost crushed that canister.

“Jesus, Dove, you’re so tight. Feel so good on my cock,” Soap was panting against your skin as he fucked you. You were much less coherent beneath him, just a stream of sobbing and begging. You understood what Soap had said earlier: you felt like you were going to die if they didn’t fuck you. If they didn’t ruin you on their cocks. 

“I’m already close.”

You were surprised Soap had lasted this long, considering how quickly you had come on his fingers. It was definitely the toxins in your system, but you needed him to claim you. Needed to be bred full. You must have begged for it, because Soap was soothing you as he picked up the pace.

“You’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Just take it like a good girl, right Dovie?”

He forced his cock as deep as he could when he came, rocking against your hips to make sure it would take. You could feel it, so hot and sticky inside you, dripping out around his cock as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before a huge shadow filled your vision. Ghost. He shoved Soap aside, taking in the sight of you beneath him.

“Johnny made a mess of you didn’t he?” A gloved hand trailed over your tear stained cheeks, through the string of drool hanging from your lips. He forced your thighs apart to see Soap’s come dripping out of your used pussy. “Look at you, pretty girl,” he teased.

���Please,” you whined. The strange panic was taking hold of you again. You were scared what would happen if Ghost didn’t fuck you. “Please, sir. I need it.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Ghost swore under his breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to fight it off. Poor thing.”

He tossed his gloves aside, running warm, calloused hands over your sticky, sweaty skin. “I’m bigger than Johnny,” he warned. “But something tells me you’ll like that.”

All you could do was beg. How did Ghost have so much control? It was almost like he wasn’t affected at all.

He took mercy on you, dragging his cock against your pussy to slick the length of it before pressing inside. He was slower than Soap, more careful. And even under the effects of the gas, you needed it. Fuck. He was huge.

“You’re fucking noisy,” Ghost grumbled. And then there were two fingers pushing past your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digits to chase the salt and the sweat, and the relative quiet seemed to appease the lieutenant as he finally bottomed out inside you.

You had never been so full in your life, split open on the lieutenant’s cock like this. He groaned beneath the mask as he fucked you, rhythm faltering as you squeezed tight around his cock.

Even with his fingers in your mouth, you must have picked up your whining again because he leaned in to shush you. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill you up again. Breed you just like you need. We won’t let you go until you’re full of us.”

It should have sounded threatening, but all you could focus on was the promise that they would take care of you. That they would leave you dripping with their come.

The initial rush of the toxins had given way to a sort of timeless haze. You couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of Ghost fucking you and his fingers in your mouth. It could have been hours. You just needed to be full.

“Here it comes, Little Dove,” Ghost warned you. “Better take every last drop.”

He pulled you so far onto his cock that a glance of pain managed to reach you in the haze, but it only left you craving more. You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he came, filling you even more than Soap had.

“Such a good girl.” He only pulled out after he was sure he had fucked his come into you as deep as possible. And when a few drops began to spill out, he swiped them up with the fingers he had just pulled from your mouth and forced them back inside your pussy again.

“Hey, LT,” Soap grinned where he was slowly stroking his cock. “Does this mean it’s my turn again?”

[beautification-tales]

The Frump

A female version of the Nutty Professor

Patty Frump was a scientist who didn't quite fit the stereotype. Her body curved in ways that defied the lab coat she wore with pride. It was her mind that was her true asset, not her looks, though she often wished it were the other way around. Her hair was a wild mess of untamed black curls that fought against the confines of her safety goggles. Her eyes, however, were sharp, a piercing brown that could spot an inconsistency in data from a mile away. Patty had a way with numbers and formulas that made the other professors at the university green with envy.

Her office was a cluttered sanctuary of textbooks and experiments gone awry. She liked to think of it as organized chaos, but even she had to admit it was more chaos than order. The walls were plastered with sticky notes and scribbled theories that only she could decode. It was in this mess that she had made her most significant discovery, a breakthrough that could change the field of biochemistry forever. But she hadn't told anyone about it yet.

The door swung open, interrupting her train of thought. In sailed Victoria, all legs and red hair, with Drake trailing behind her like a lost puppy. Patty's heart skipped a beat. She had hoped to avoid them today.

Victoria looked around the room with feigned disgust, her delicate nose wrinkling at the scent of old coffee and chemicals. "My dear Patty," she began in her syrupy sweet voice, "I see your office hasn't changed since the last time I 'accidentally' knocked over your experiment."

Patty clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white as she forced a smile. "Victoria, Drake," she said as evenly as she could. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Victoria smirked, her glossy red lips parting to reveal perfectly straight teeth. She stepped closer, her high heels clicking against the tiles. "Oh, I just wanted to show Drake your latest... masterpiece," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gestured to the mess of beakers and flasks on Patty's desk. "It's so quaint, really. Like watching someone try to solve a Rubik's cube with boxing gloves on."

Patty's cheeks grew hot with anger as Drake chuckled politely. She knew he didn't mean it, but the sound still felt like a slap in the face. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. "It's not for show, Victoria," she replied, her voice steady. "It's for science. Maybe if you spent less time worrying about your hair and more time in the lab, you'd understand that."

“Do you like my hair? Drakey poo?” Victoria cooed, twirling a lock of her fiery mane around her finger. “He says I look like a goddess today.” Drake looked down blushing.

Patty’s eyes narrowed as she watched the two of them. The sight of Victoria’s hand on Drake’s arm made her want to scream. It was like watching someone else live out her fantasy, a twisted soap opera playing out in real life. She clenched her jaw and tried to ignore the ache in her chest.

Victoria giggled as her hand slowly slid to his crotch, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why don't you tell Patty how hard you are... I mean, how hard I work," she corrected with a wink.

Drake coughed, “Victoria, please behave yourself.” He looked uncomfortable under Patty's gaze.

But Victoria wasn’t done. She leaned in closer to Drake, her ample chest pressing against his arm. "Oh, darling, don't be shy. Patty's a scientist, she understands the importance of... collaboration." She batted her eyelashes at him, her voice a purr.

Patty had enough. She couldn't stand another second of Victoria's blatant flirting with Drake, especially not in her own office. The room felt like it was closing in on her as she watched the scene unfold. Her rival's hand lingered on Drake's arm, her touch possessive and taunting. Patty felt the jealousy boil in her gut like one of her forgotten chemistry experiments.

“Well I think you’ve seen enough. Thanks for stopping by.” Patty’s voice was tight, her eyes locked on Victoria’s hand as it continued to dance across Drake’s arm. She hoped the subtle hint would be enough to make them leave.

Victoria’s smile never wavered, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Before we go, Patty, I just wanted to give you a little... advice.” She stepped closer, her heels echoing in the small room. “You know, I’ve noticed you’ve been putting on a bit more weight recently. It’s such a shame. All those late nights in the lab alone. Maybe you should cut back on the midnight snacking and spend more time in the gym, like me and Drake do. After all, a healthy body is a healthy mind, right?” She patted her own flat stomach, her voice as sugary as the sweetest candy.

Drake looked upset at Victoria’s mean comment. Victoria pushed her backside into his crotch, and his eyes fluttered. Patty’s heart sank. Was he really that into her? It was as if Victoria held the sweet man hostage with her perfect body. The thought made Patty aware of her looks again. She felt the weight of her body as if it had doubled. She knew Victoria’s words were cruel, but they stung.

“Let’s go pookie. We have so much work to do tonight. Don’t we?” Victoria said, her voice sticky with sweetness that didn’t quite mask the acid underneath. She winked at Patty before sauntering out of the office, her hips swaying like a metronome set to the beat of Patty’s heartache.

Patty rolled her eyes at Victoria’s comment. She knew Victoria was just trying to get under her skin, but it still hurt. She watched them leave, feeling the weight of her body like a physical burden. As the door clicked shut behind them, she slumped into her chair, the anger and jealousy giving way to sadness. She looked around her cluttered office, feeling more alone than ever.

The silence was deafening, and Patty found herself reaching for the comfort of a chocolate bar hidden in her bottom drawer. She took a bite, the sweetness briefly numbing the pain of Victoria’s words. But as she chewed, she felt a spark of defiance. She wasn’t going to let Victoria’s spitefulness define her.

Patty’s gaze fell on the unassuming vial of experimental formula on her desk. It had been a side project, something she’d been tinkering with to combat the effects of aging. The serum was designed to regenerate cells and boost metabolism. It was a breakthrough, but she’d been too busy with her main research to test it. But what if it could give her the body Victoria flaunted so freely? The thought was tantalizing.

Her mind raced as she weighed the pros and cons. It was risky, but the potential payoff was huge. If it worked, she could show Victoria that she wasn’t just a brainiac, but a force to be reckoned with in every aspect. The idea grew in her mind, a beacon of hope in the sea of despair that was her love life.

Patty stood up, her chair scraping against the floor, and marched over to the fridge. She took out the vial of experimental serum and held it up to the light, watching the liquid swirl. She had always been meticulous in her work, but now she felt a thrill of rebellion. The formula was supposed to be used on rats, but she was tired of being treated like one.

Her heart racing, she took a deep breath and uncorked the vial. The scent was faintly metallic, but not unpleasant. She had poured her soul into this creation, and now she was going to use it for something more than just science. The liquid shimmered like liquid gold, promising a transformation.

Patty took a moment to consider the consequences. It was a bold move, one that could ruin her career if it went wrong. But she was tired of feeling like the invisible woman. With a determined look, she raised the vial to her lips and took a swig. It tasted bitter, like the disappointment of a thousand unrequited crushes. She winced but swallowed it down.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a warmth began to spread through her body, starting at her toes and moving up like a slow-burning fire. It was like a warm summer's day, wrapping around her and making her feel alive. She could feel her cells vibrating with newfound energy, and she knew the serum was working. She set the vial down and took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

Patty looked down and gasped. Her clothes were baggy, hanging off her in a way they never had before. She could see the outline of her waist, the bulge of her stomach retreating like a deflating balloon. Her breasts felt lighter, her ass firming up like two scoops of ice cream that had just come out of the freezer. She reached up and squeezed, feeling the firmness and tone she had never had before. It was like watching a time-lapse of a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, except it was happening to her.

Her hand went to her hair next. The wild black curls had straightened out and cascaded down her back, reaching her waist. It was as if each strand had been gently tugged and elongated, creating a sleek and shiny waterfall. She couldn't help but run her fingers through it, feeling the softness and weight she had never experienced. The transformation was incredible, and she felt like a new person.

As Patty moved to the mirror, her eyes widened in amazement. Her reflection showed muscles rippling beneath her skin, her arms no longer the soft, slightly flabby limbs she had always known. They were now toned and strong, like those of a gymnast. She flexed her biceps, watching in awe as they bulged. The same was true for her legs and abs. The serum had not only melted away her fat, but it had also sculpted her into a vision of physical perfection.

The transformation had done more than just change her body, however. It had also altered her mind, and as she stared at her new form, she felt a cold, calculating deviousness creep in. The jealousy and sadness she had felt just moments ago had been replaced by a fiery determination to show Victoria she was not someone to be underestimated. The serum had unlocked a part of her she never knew existed, a dark side that craved revenge and attention.

“I’m better than her now… hmmm I’m better than most women now.” The thought whispered seductively through Patty’s newly sharpened mind. She couldn’t help the smug smile that curled her lips as she twirled around in her suddenly too-large lab coat. The serum had done more than just give her the body of a supermodel; it had given her the confidence of a goddess.

Her next stop was the mall, where she knew she’d find clothes that would showcase her new figure. The thrill of trying on outfits she never thought she’d fit into was intoxicating. The saleswomen looked at her with a mix of awe and envy as she strutted from the dressing room, each outfit more flattering than the last. She settled on a tight, black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and a pair of stiletto heels that made her legs look endless. Patty felt like a lioness in a field of gazelles.

The following day, with her new look and a plan in mind, Patty made her way to the university gym. It was early, and she knew Victoria and Drake would be there, sweating it out before their classes. She walked in, the sound of her heels echoing through the empty corridor, and felt a rush of excitement. The gym was like a battleground, and she was ready to conquer it.

Spotting Drake on the treadmill, she approached him with a sway in her step that was both natural and deliberate. His eyes widened as he took in her svelte figure. He looked up from his run, his sweat-drenched face lighting up with surprise. "Dr. Drake Adams?” She asked him.

"Yes? Do I...know you?" He stumbled over his words, his eyes scanning her body, trying to compose himself. “No, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Fabienne.” She said with her hand outstretched, her voice now a smoky siren's call.

Patty watched with satisfaction as Drake’s eyes grew even wider, his hand swallowed by hers. The gym was a far cry from her usual domain, but in this new form, she felt at ease. She had chosen the name Fabienne on a whim, something that sounded exotic and alluring, a name that would make heads turn.

"Fabienne," he repeated, the sound rolling off his tongue like a caress. "You're new here, aren't you?" His voice was thick with curiosity, and Patty could see the attraction in his gaze. She had to admit, the serum had worked better than she could have ever hoped.

Patty, now Fabienne, leaned against the treadmill, her body language deliberately inviting. "Just passing through," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She had no intention of letting him know her true identity. "But I've heard so much about the legendary Drake Adams. I had to come see for myself."

It was then that Victoria strutted in, her eyes narrowing when they fell on the newcomer. She was dressed in skintight workout gear that left nothing to the imagination, her red hair pulled back into a high ponytail that bobbed as she moved. She had always had a flair for the dramatic, and her arrival was no exception. Patty felt a pang of nerves, but she steeled herself. This was her moment.

“Pookie can you come spot me at the squat rack?” She didn’t even look at Patty, her eyes locked on Drake as she sailed past. Patty’s jaw clenched as she watched Victoria’s perfect body in motion. But she knew she had the upper hand now.

“Oh that sounds perfect. I needed someone to spot me for some reps too.” Fabienne said, her voice dripping with honey. She could feel the tension in the room thicken as Victoria finally looked at her. The look of shock on Victoria’s face was priceless. It was clear she had no idea who this new woman was, and Patty savored the moment.

“I’m Fabienne by the way. I’m sorry I distracted your boyfriend from working out. I’m just a really big fan.” Patty squeezed her arms into her bosom making her cleavage even more impressive. She watched Victoria’s eyes flicker with annoyance and a hint of something else. Intrigue? Jealousy? It was working.

Victoria’s eyes narrowed as she approached. “I’m sure Drake has better things to do than spot us both. Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of challenge.

“Yeah I definitely would remember meeting a wo… a person like you.” Drake said, his cheeks reddening as he stumbled over his words. Fabienne just smirked. “I don’t mind I can spot for you both.” He said with a hopeful smile, eager to keep the peace.

Victoria’s eyes flashed with something that looked a lot like anger, but she forced a smile. “That’s so sweet of you, Drake. But I’m sure Fabienne here can handle her own workout.” She stepped aside and gestured to the squat rack.

“Not at this weight. I’m kind of nervous about it and having a big strong man to help me would really put me at ease.” Patty put two more plates on both sides. The weights clanked loudly. Victoria’s eyes widened. Patty had never been one to show off at the gym, but she felt a thrill at the challenge.

“There’s no way you can squat that!” Victoria said with a dismissive laugh, her voice carrying across the gym. Fabienne’s smile grew wider, the challenge accepted. She positioned herself under the barbell with the grace of a ballet dancer, her newfound strength evident in every movement. The weight she had chosen was one that even some of the strongest men at the university struggled with.

With a deep breath, Fabienne hoisted the barbell onto her shoulders, feeling the weight settle into place. Her muscles coiled like springs, ready to propel her upwards. She could feel Victoria’s eyes on her, burning with a mix of skepticism and envy. Without another word, Fabienne began her squat, her legs bending smoothly, muscles flexing with each inch she descended. The barbell didn’t waver.

Drake carefully stepped aside, his eyes glued to Fabienne as she took position under the barbell. The weight she had chosen was indeed impressive, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the prospect of seeing her in action. As Fabienne began to squat, her body moving with a grace and power that belied her earlier clumsy persona, Victoria's laughter died in her throat. The barbell remained steady, not a single wobble, as Fabienne sank lower and lower, her thighs parallel to the ground.

Victoria's own workout was forgotten as she stared, unable to tear her gaze away. The sight of Fabienne's perfect form, the way her muscles rippled with each movement, was like watching a finely-tuned machine in motion. Patty had always been the brainy one, but now she had the body to match, and it was clear that she was enjoying every moment of Victoria's shock.

Patty felt like she could carry the heavy weight for hours, but she knew she had to make an exit that was just as dramatic as her entrance. She stayed low and grunted as if she was struggling. “A little help please.” She called out sweetly to Drake. He looked torn between helping her and staying by Victoria’s side.

Victoria’s eyes flashed with something unreadable, but she stepped aside with a forced smile, allowing Drake to come to Patty’s rescue. He moved behind her, his strong arms ready to catch the barbell if she stumbled. As he took position, Patty leaned back into him, pressing her now firm and shapely ass against his crotch. She felt him stiffen, his breath catching in his throat. The fabric of her outfit was thin, and she knew he could feel every inch of her new body. She took a moment to savor the power she held over him, the way he looked at her with a mix of awe and desire.

Patty moaned as she lifted up and pushed her ass further into Drake’s crotch. His eyes widened and his grip on the barbell tightened. He didn’t know how to react, his mind racing with confusion and arousal. He had always thought Patty was attractive in a nerdy sort of way, but now, as Fabienne, she was a whole new level of temptation.

“Thank you! It was so hard!” Patty exclaimed as she placed the barbell back on the rack with a thud that echoed through the gym. She turned around and looked up at Drake with a sparkle in her eyes. “Excuse me?” Victoria’s voice was as sharp as a knife cutting through butter. Patty turned to her rival with a knowing smile. “That last rep was so very hard but so needed to keep this so tight.” She ran her hand over her now firm and toned ass.

“It looks great” Drake said with a grin that was more genuine than Patty had ever seen from him before. Victoria’s face fell, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “Pookie!” She called out, trying to regain his attention, but he was already entranced by Fabienne’s performance.

“Mmm thanks for the compliment… pookie.” Patty said, her voice a low purr as she stepped away from the squat rack. She knew Victoria’s pet name for Drake was supposed to be endearing, but coming from her mouth it sounded like a taunt. She sauntered over to the water fountain, her new hips swinging with each step. She took a sip, her full lips curving into a smug smile as she watched Victoria’s eyes follow her every move.

But as she swallowed the water, something strange began to happen. The warmth from the serum that had been pulsing through her veins started to fade, leaving a cold, empty feeling in its wake. She felt her body changing, her muscles softening, her curves becoming less pronounced. Panic set in as she realized that the transformation wasn’t permanent. She had hoped to keep her new body for good, but it seemed the serum had a time limit.

Patty grabbed her bag and rushed for the door. She had to get back to her lab, to find a way to stabilize the serum's effects. But she hadn't taken more than a step before Victoria's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Fabienne, wait!" she called out, her tone a mix of desperation and fury.

“Listen bitch who do you think you are?” Victoria’s voice was a snarl, her eyes blazing with anger as she approached Patty, who was desperately trying to hold onto her new form. Patty's hair was receding slowly as her stomach gurgled as fat cells were expanding within her. Victoria flashed a look of disgust at the sound. "Sorry not feeling so good. I gotta go!" Patty ran to her car at full speed.

As she jumped into her car, the transformation back into her old self was in full swing. Her workout outfit clinging to her growing body, Patty managed to get the key into the ignition just as Victoria burst out of the gym doors. The engine roared to life, and Patty peeled out of the parking lot, her heart racing as she watched Victoria in the rearview mirror.

Patty stopped trying to hold back as she ballooned back to her old proportions. Her hair fully receded back to short and curly as her vision became blurry again. Victoria watched as Patty drove away wondering why Fabienne had the exact same car as her rival Patty.

Patty will take the serum again…

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Hello!!! congratulations on 2k you absolutely deserve it! can I please request Miguel O'Hara with promt 29."touch me there. right there" with fem reader( for some extra spice maybe it's inexperienced Miguel learning how to touch the reader) thank you so much I love all of your work🖤

Shy

College AU!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Language, smut, fingering, shy Miguel.

Thank you for requesting! It's not very good but I hope you still enjoy it <3

...

Miguel was precious.

He had a tentative touch, his rough fingertips gliding over the smooth skin of your thigh, gently playing with the hem of your pleated baby-pink skirt.

He was kneeling at the edge of your bed, his body pressed between your legs as you leaned back on your elbows, watching him stew in his timidness. 

“Miggy,” you smiled, tilting your head a bit when his eyes flew to meet yours, pausing his little exploration, “it’s okay if you wanna stop.”

“Don’t wanna stop,” he grunted, quickly averting his eyes and focusing on the hidden treasure between your legs, the place he’d always wanted to touch but would never allow himself to. You let out a soft whine when he carefully messaged your legs, his calloused hands sending tiny jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You sighed, reaching out to run your fingers through Miguel’s thick hair.

“What about your roommate?” He asked suddenly, fiddling with your skirt, smoothing it out for modesty as if you both weren’t in the privacy of your bedroom. “Won’t she hear us?”

“She’s out with her boyfriend,” you assured him, “she won't be back till tomorrow, I promise.” That seemed to calm his nerves if only for a moment.

Miguel was shy, something that was both surprising and endearing.

He was captain of the university baseball team, a stellar student in biochemistry, beyond gorgeous, and highly desired. He was literally the entire package—every girl's (and guy's) dream.

And he was shy. Who would’ve thought?

He admitted to you on your first date that his experience with physical intimacy was limited. He’d always been too nervous, throwing himself into sports and school to avoid unwanted attention.

But then he met you—a pretty thing that sat next to him in Poly Sci. One look at you was enough to have his heart beating faster than it ever did on the playing field. And all you’d done was smile.

And, well, the rest was history.

After allowing him a gentle exploration of your thighs, you took his hand, pushing it under your tiny skirt and over your clothed cunt. He took in a breath, hissing when his fingers connected with the damp patch on your panties. You mewled when he brushed his fingers over it.

“Like that?” he asked you, pressing his thumb down over the patch when you nodded vigorously, biting your lower lip.

“Mhm,” you mewled, “K-keep going, you’re doing so well,” Miguel grunted at the praise, slowly peeling your skirt back to let it pool over your waist, revealing your silky panties. The damp spot stood out, and he couldn’t look away from the arousal that stained the delicate cloth. 

“You’re so wet,” he marveled, gently peeling it aside to glance at your glistening cunt. Your folds were swollen—hot, slick, and inviting. He hesitated, putting a finger over your entrance and gently swiping through your folds before pulling back to observe the slick that clung to his skin. He pressed it between his fingers, watching how it stretched apart like tiny webs.

And then suddenly, he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue curling out to lap at your mess.

Your breathing quickened as you watched him curiously, his eyes fluttering as he savored the taste of you.

That was bold of him. Really bold. And you liked it.

“Mig,” you whined, making work of removing your panties, “please.” He pulled his fingers from his mouth, biting his lip when you brought your knees up, planting your feet firmly on your bed, and giving him a clear view of your pussy. 

“W-what should I do?” He stuttered, his cheeks burning in mortification but you only smiled at him, your eyes heavy as you moved to take his hand again, placing it over your sopping core.

“Touch me.” You whispered. 

It was a clumsy touch at first, his inexperienced fingers swirling around your slick till he pushed against your clit, making you gasp.

“Touch me there,” you moaned, chasing the ghost of his fingers, “right there." 

“Yeah?” Miguel’s confidence grew, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, ripping lovely little whimpers from you. 

“Mmm,” You mewled, your eyes fluttering shut as Miguel worked your clit. Your legs began to shake, and your cunt oozed more slick over his fingers. 

You could hear him take in a breath, a small whimper falling past his lips at the sight.

And then he stopped. You huffed, peering over your knees to look at him.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined, canting your hips up to get him to touch you again. He just looked at you, licked his lips, and prodded at your sensitive entrance with the tip of his middle finger. You moaned, feeling your cunt squeeze in anticipation.

“Can I…?” He questioned, and you nodded your head enthusiastically.

“Yes, yes, yes, in me, Miguel, please.” He gently traced your quivering hole before plunging his finger in, gently at first, but with your guidance, he began to pump into you eagerly, his finger completely coated in your creaminess.

“Add a-another finger,” you begged and Miguel complied, stretching your channel with his thick digits, “mm, yeah, just like that, fuck.”

“You like that?” Miguel breathed, his eyes roaming over your blissed-out face before locking on your weeping pussy, pushing his fingers deeper, “feels good?”

“Yesss,” you cried, fisting your sheets, “s’good."

He kept at it, sinking his fingers into your moist heat until your cunt clamped over them tightly, your body convulsing when your orgasm washed over you. You cried out, feeling Miguel's breath over your quivering pussy. 

“T-that was…” You were panting, chest heaving, failing to formulate words.

“Beautiful.” Miguel finished the sentiment for you, his eyes tracing over the juices coating his two fingers. He paused, pressing a quick kiss to your sensitive cunt before lapping your taste off his fingers.

“C’mere,” you dropped your legs, extending your hands so that he could fall into your arms. When he does, you feel his erection press against you through his sweatpants. “Your turn, Mig,” you reached down to cup him but he stopped you, burying his face into your neck.

“Tomorrow,” he mumbled into your skin, far too overwhelmed with how you fell apart for him, “you can have me tomorrow.”

“But my roommate will be home. Aren’t you worried about us making noise?”

“S’okay,” he said, holding you close, feeling his lashes tickle your skin, “you sound so pretty when you make noise.”

You smiled, pushing his head away from his hiding spot so that you could kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

[rainwaterapothecary]

Fields of study we know Luis has:

-Parasitology

-Microbiology

-Pharmacology

-Medical Biology

-Biochemistry (thanks @courtofparrots!)

Fields he may have:

-Entomology

-Paleoparasitology

-Genetics

-Immunology

-Virology

Things he will never have:

-A fucking break

[niranjandotus]

Top Ukrainian female Scientists, Doctors, Mathematicans, Economists, Artists, Athletes, Leaders, Astronauts, Military Leaders, etc.

The Ukrainian mathematician Maryna Viazovska who won Fields Medal — the highest honor for a mathematician.

Selected few famous Ukrainian scientists 

We decided to talk about outstanding Ukrainian women who've changed and continue to change the world of science to show that girls can do anything.

Maryna Viazovska, a mathematician

Ukrainian scientist, doctor of natural sciences. Ukrainian mathematician Maryna Viazovska, who currently works at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology, received the Salem Prize 2016, which is extremely prestigious for mathematicians. The commission awarded the prize to Maryna Viazovska for her world-class discovery. Ukrainian solved a problem that scientists have been working on for more than 400 years, i.e. packing spheres in 8-dimensional space, and co-authored the one in 24-dimensional space. Previously, the problem of packing spheres was solved only for spaces with three or fewer dimensions.

Yuliia Bezvershenko, a physicist

Ukrainian scientist in theoretical physics, popularizer of science, public figure, Ph.D. of physic and mathematical sciences, Yuliia Bezvershenko is included in the list of TOP-20 Ukrainian women in STEM for 2018-2019. Yuliia deals with mathematical methods applied to the problems of dynamics of quantum systems in external fields and control of quantum systems. She is convinced and proves that one can practice theoretical physics with passion.

According to Yuliia, at one time she heard an important thing from her mentor: you can be yourself in any field! Therefore, one shouldn't be afraid of stereotypes and prejudices of others.

If you're a girl, a woman, no matter where, no matter how old you are, and your heart is in science, don't be afraid. Go there boldly. After all, nothing will stop a woman, ready to work and conduct scientific discoveries.

Mariia Bailiak, a biologist

Doctor of Biological Sciences, Associate Professor of Biochemistry and Biotechnology in Vasyl Stefanyk Precarpathian National University. Scientist Mariia Bailiak studies biochemistry and researches the influence of various plants and substances on the aging process. Mariia Bailiak's discoveries concern, for instance, the increase of stress resistance and the general condition of living organisms (and therefore, us and you, and it's good news: stress resistance doesn't hurt anyone), and anti-aging substances. Thanks to her intensive work, Mariia is in the Top 10 successful Ukrainian women scientists.

Olha Brovarets, a biophysicist

Ukrainian biophysicist, Doctor of Physic and Mathematical Sciences, winner of the Scopus Awards Ukraine in the nomination "Best team of scientists who achieved significant scientific results without Western collaborations" and the President of Ukraine Award for Young Scientists, and a leading researcher in the Department of Molecular and Quantum Biophysics Institute of Molecular Biology and Genetics of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine. Olha is the youngest doctor habilitatus in Ukraine; she became a doctor at 29. Olha is now 34 years old and she continues to study biophysics: her discoveries give an understanding of the mechanisms of cancer and many other diseases caused by mutations. It was Olha who calculated the pattern of mutations in DNA leading to cancer and many other diseases.

Nana Voitenko, a biologist

Professor, Doctor of Biological Sciences, neurobiologist, head of the department of sensory signaling of the Bohomolets Institute of Physiology of NAS of Ukraine. Nana Voitenko has been researching pain for more than 20 years. What do we know about pain? For most people on Earth, pain is something they'd like to get rid of as soon as possible if they feel it. Nana Voitenko deals with the nature of pain, as it occurs and spreads in the human's central and peripheral nervous systems. In the laboratory, Voitenko and her colleagues managed to develop an experimental treatment that affects only those cells involved in pain syndromes. Besides, Nana Voitenko is actively promoting science: she's a lecturer at the "Days of Science" initiative, was a lecturer at TED-x Kyiv in 2013, and the organizer of the "Week of Knowledge about the Brain." Science is close, and it's accessible to everyone.

Ella Libanova, an economist

Scientist in socioeconomics, demography, and labor economics, academician of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, Doctor of Economics, Professor, Honored Economist of Ukraine. Ella Libanova is an academician-secretary of the economics department of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine and, by the way, the first and only female member of the presidium of the National Academy of Sciences for 102 years of its work. She teaches social statistics at the Faculty of Economics of the Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv; introduced a method for measuring human development at the region level, used by the State Statistics Service of Ukraine for annual calculations.

Nina Virchenko, a mathematician

Professor of the Department of Mathematical Analysis and Probability Theory, Doctor of Physic and Mathematical Sciences Nina Virchenko is one of the most famous Ukrainian mathematicians. She is the author of more than 500 scientific and methodological works, including 20 books published in Ukrainian, Russian, English, and Japanese. Nina Virchenko is recognized not only in Ukraine but also abroad; she's a member of the Australian, American, Belgian, Edinburgh, London mathematical societies. In the end, it's not surprising, because mathematics knows no boundaries and recognizes all the achievements, wherever you obtain them.

Nina Virchenko's fate wasn't easy: at 18 in 1948, she was sentenced to 10 years in the Gulag camps for preparing a "political conspiracy, revolt" and participating in the "Ukrainian-nationalist gang." Years in the camps didn't stop the future doctor from achieving her dreams. In 1964, she defended her Ph.D. and her Dr. habil. dissertation in Kyiv in 1988.

Nataliia Vynohrad, an epidemiologist

Epidemiologist, professor, doctor of medical sciences, Nataliia Vynohrad manages the Department of Epidemiology of Lviv National Medical University. She's an expert of the World Health Organization in responding to epidemic threats and the Ministry of Health of Ukraine on epidemiology, an adviser to the Ministry of Emergencies of Ukraine on anti-epidemic protection and biosafety. Agree, you can't find a more relevant profession in 2020-2021. Once an ordinary girl from a village in the Khmelnytskyi region, and now the author of 305 scientific papers, and 8 copyright certificates for inventions and patents of Ukraine, proves that nothing is impossible for a girl who knows what she wants.

Nataliia Polonska-Vasylenko, a historian

From the early 20th century until the end of her life in the 1970s, our first heroine studied the history and archeology of Ukraine, both in Ukraine and later in exile in Germany and the Czech Republic. In a historically troublesome time for Ukraine, she became one of the leading representatives of the state school in Ukrainian historiography, that is, she promoted the idea of ​​independence and continuity of the Ukrainian historical process. Nataliia Polonska-Vasylenko is the author of almost 200 scientific works on the history of Zaporizhzhia and Southern Ukraine, which remain relevant to this day.

Valentyna Radzymovska, a biologist

One of the most prominent names in our history is Valentyna Radzymovska, a professor, doctor of medical and physiological sciences, founder of the Ukrainian school of physiologists and biochemists, and a public figure. The Soviet authorities repressed Valentyna Radzymovska for her political activities and participation in the Union for the Liberation of Ukraine in the 1930s. However, it didn't prevent her from becoming the author of more than 60 works on biochemistry, pathophysiology, pediatrics, psychoneurology, physiology, and phthisiology. Like the previous scientist in our article, she left Ukraine in 1945, emigrating first to Germany and then to the United States.

Radzymovska contributed hugely to the study of tuberculosis and its treatment in children.

Nina Morozhenko, a physicist

Although the sun is the closest star to us, it still hides many fascinating mysteries. Ukrainian astronomer, helio physicist, doctor of physic and mathematical sciences, author of 56 scientific works, Nina Morozhenko devoted her entire life to studying the structure of our guide light and the processes taking place on it. After all, everything happening on the Sun affects many areas of human activity. Without studying the sun, it's impossible to understand not only what the future holds for our civilization but also what is happening in space, i.e. on the distant stars the humanity is so eager to reach. Nina Morozhenko's scientific works on solar prominences were the first in the world and gave rise to scientific research by helio physicists from many countries. The Ukrainian researcher's significant contribution to the physics of the sun once again demonstrates that physics isn't a purely "male" science.

[daintyys]

baby i'm yours

fem!reader x tasm peter parker, 1.3k words, light swearing

this is a college au, basically peter and reader are dormmates at new york university. i love peter so pls give me prompts for him &lt;3

Peter was your best friend, and nothing more. That's what you kept having to tell yourself.

But, it was hard to think like that when you got a glimpse of him fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, and hair dripping. Let's face it, he was comparable to a Greek God.

You had been friends with Peter Parker since highschool, and it was a pleasant surprise to find out he had gotten into NYU just like you did. It was automatically settled, you would be roommates.

While you were studying creative writing, Peter was diving into the field of biochemistry. You couldn't seem to comprehend why he was so interested in science until a year ago, when he confessed to you that he was Spider-Man. You had to admit, it wasn't too surprising. He had that Spider-Man air about him.

Mornings in your dorm were nice, especially since you and Peter had breakfast together. You could always tell when he had been out in the city the night before, because he was ravenous.

"Mphm, mowe eggths?" He mumbled through a stuffed mouth. "If you're so hungry you should make them yourself." You giggled to him. He rolled his eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes. You stood up, wanting to start getting ready for your day. Peter's classes started before yours did, so right after breakfast he would always leave, but today was different.

You could feel his eyes on your body as you filled your glass up with water. A tank top and sweatpants was normal apparel for you, so it was hard to tell what was different about now. "Are you checking me out, Peter?" You threw your head back around to look at him, and his heart visibly stopped. "No! No, no. I would never do that, ew." He choked out. You cocked your eyebrow at him, and his eyes widened. "Oh you know I didn't mean it like that, you're cute, Y/N." His face was about as red as the apple he was biting into. You laughed as you retreated into your bedroom.

When you were finished getting ready, you left your bedroom to find Peter still sitting at the table. "You're still here?" You asked, sitting back down next to him. "Well yea, I just didn't wanna leave without saying a real goodbye to you." He wasn't making eye contact, which only happened when he was nervous. "Oh, well you're not planning on dying today, right?" You asked, laughing slightly. He chuckled back. "Yea, no. Just feel weird leaving without seeing you again." You admired his face, and watched a flush up his neck.

"Peter, you like me, don't you?" You were joking, he should have known that, but his mind was obviously not registering the way you had spoken when he blurted out: "Is it that obvious??". You froze, processing the words that had just left his mouth.

Peter slapped his hands over his mouth, not realizing you had been messing with him. "Oh fuck." Was all he mumbled as he stood up from the table, grabbing his backpack.

"No, Peter, wait!" You said, standing as well. You reached for his hand, and he quickly pulled away from you, a traumatized expression plastered across his face. "I am so, so, incredibly sorry, Y/N." He spluttered as he pulled his shoes on. As soon as he had finished speaking, he was rushing out of your dorm, slamming the door behind him.

You sat back down at the table, for fear you would faint if you continued standing. Your face was burning, and you were having trouble breathing. "Oh my God..." you mumbled, nervously twisting your hair. Standing up again, you noticed Peter's lunchbox still sitting on the kitchen counter. That gave you an idea.

You had liked him for almost 3 years. Even in highschool, where he was continuously bullied, he always managed to put a smile on your face. He was a "loser", sure, but that never stopped you from hanging out with him. He was a great guy. You thought of the time you skipped school with him all because he wanted to teach you how to skateboard.

On that day, you had sworn he was going to kiss you. He held your body close to his, trying to keep the two of you balanced on his skateboard. You had felt his heart beating rapidly, and wondered if he was as flustered as you were.

But none of that mattered now, because your relationship with Peter could be ruined after his little slip-up.

You grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, and began to furiously write. If speaking face-to-face with Peter would be too much for him, a letter would be the second best option.

Dear Peter,

Definitely didn't expect this morning to consist of you confessing your feelings to me, but that's alright, because I feel the same way. I have since we were 16.

I've tried for a while to deny it, but now that you've come clean, it's only fair for me to do the same. I love you, Peter. You are my favorite person, and I don't want this morning to change anything with us. If it does change, then I hope it's for the better, not the worse.

That's all, I don't want to scare you away.

Love,

Y/N

Your hands were shaking as you folded the letter in half and tucked it into Peter's lunchbox. Now all that was left was to get it to him.

You walked as fast as you could, not caring that people were yelling obscenities when you shoved past them. You had to get to Peter before his class started. Looking at your phone, you saw you had 5 minutes left. Shit.

You began to run, desperate to arrive in time. You threw the double doors to the building open, and ran in the direction of Peter's chemical analysis class. People were staring, because you definitely did not look like you were ready to divide cells in a lab.

You reached the classroom, and stopped to catch your breath. You took out your phone again. 2 minutes until the bell rang. You grinned as you pushed the door open slowly. Then you saw him.

He was sitting at a desk, staring at the board with glazed-over eyes. He was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen, and you giggled as you pictured a future with him. You walked over to him, taking deep breaths.

"Ahem..." You cleared your throat as you placed his lunch on his desk. Peter jumped, and went ghost white as he made eye contact with you. "Y/N, what are you-" He began. "Shut up. Don't say anything until you look in your lunchbox." You said as you turned on your heel and left. Peter was confused. Very confused.

As soon as you were out of the classroom, he ripped open his lunchbox, grabbing the sheet of paper you had left inside. He unfolded the letter with shaking hands, and read it carefully. His organs were in his throat. "I love you," He whispered to himself. "Oh my God."

Peter stuffed the letter into his pocket and shot up from his desk, and then he was darting out of the classroom with his things, needing to find you as soon as possible.

You were walking back to your dorm, smiling to yourself, when your racing thoughts were interrupted with a yell. "Y/N! Y/N!" You stopped instantly, and turned around to see Peter barreling towards you. You laughed as he engulfed you in his arms, kissing you all over your forehead.

"Couldn't wait until later, hm?" You giggled, looking up into his eyes. Peter smiled, and shrugged. "I could have, but I didn't want to." He said as he put his arm around your shoulder. AYou walked home together, fingers interlaced, and dreamed of your future together.

[nazrigar]

Transformers All-Sparks: Titans of Industry and Heroes of SCIENCE

In Transformers All-Sparks, with the fall of Cobra means an new time of relative peace, and also new opportunities to change the world.

These are the folks that are the movers and shakers in the background of the AU, from robotics to energy. Also Inhumanoid references!

Titans of Industry

Isaac Sumdac: Of all the industries revolutionizing the modern age, few have made an impact that Sumdac has made with robotics. Almost every college and university grad aims to one work on Sumdac System's wonders. Everything from production lines to seamless advanced prosthetics can be attributed to Sumdac. In spite of all this, Sumdac remains dedicated to both his work and trying to be a good person first and foremost. In a world of cutthroat and self serving men, Isaac has a genuine belief in making the world a better place with his inventions. Where and how he was inspired to really push for robotics remains known only to him. Lives in Detroit.

G.B. Blackrock: The man with a hand in almost every energy revolution out there, Blackrock is the owner of Blackrock Enterprises, the company responsible for the production and construction of everything from fossil fuels to renewables in this AU. A strong belief in investing for the long term means that he's very much into investing into alternatives to fossil fuels, not just for energy, but for everything that derives from petroleum. Despite the scope of his company's wealth, he's only "just" a millionaire, for whatever he makes, he donates to causes he really believes, mostly out of a sense of guilt. For what kind of man would he be if he has all the wealth in the world without trying to make it better? Travels a lot, but his company's HQ is in Portland, Oregon.

With the only two unambiguously good business folk outta way let's get to some REAL villains!

Prometheus Black: The OTHER great industralist of Detroit, with far less scruples and morals than Sumdac. A great showman who always makes a new innovation known to the world, and spearheads much research and development in biotechnology and biochemistry. Resents Sumdac, for even he has to rely on Sumdac's work, especially in the field of agricultural sciences.

Blackthorne Shore: A minging magnate and mogul of all things digging up the soil, has an intense rivalry with Blackrock for kneecapping much of the coal trade. Ruthless, with a dominating presence. Currently trying to dig deep into the Earth to try and find… something. Information leaking out since the fall of Cobra indicates a wealth of unknowns that he must find and leave his mark before anyone else. He's not getting younger after all.

World Science Team

In a world… Where the fall of Cobra means the unleashing of unknown variables and technologies to the wider world… one team is dedicated to making sure that they not only don't fall to the wrong hands, but also make all this mad science less mad. They are… WORLD SCIENCE TEAM.

Elise Presser: The team robotics expert. Brilliant in her field of study, but prone to absent mindedness and reckless behavior. Wanted to change the world in her own way, since every robotics whizz is either working FOR Sumdac or wants to bring him down.

Dr. Herc Armstrong: A guy who seemed to be genetically engineered to be a pulp novel scientist and adventurer come to life. The great decisionmaker, outspoken and incredibly courageous.

Dr. Brian Mindbender: Dr. Mindbender was once a peaceful Orthodontist, then an experimental pain relieving device electric brainwave stimulation damaged his mind, causing him to be much more aggressive and easy angered. He joined Cobra out of the promise to "fix" his mind, but Cobra never did, so when Cobra ate itself, he surrendered peacefully, trying to get somebody to hopefully alleviate his pain. As much as modern medicine tried, they never could get him back to his pre-accident days, but at the very least he wasn't going to die, which was was the real risk of his untreated condition. He is World Science Team's resident neurologist, biologist and of course, orthodontist. Cuz someone needs to look over teeth!

Dr. Kenneth Onishi: Dr. Onishi, MASTER OF ENERGY SCIENCES also train enthusiast. Has theories and hypothesis about EVERYTHING. Big Sentai fan.

[moongirlwidow]

File: Volkov, Vespera Anetka

Alias: Winter Widow

Status: classified

File Last updated: July 4, 2023 AD

———

Age: 15

Class: 16ABX

Graduation Year: 2023

Origin: Romania

Birthday: August 11, 2008

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Handlers: Krista Udova(62431), Milunka Dulovna(90218), Melina Vostokov(Iron Maiden)

Trainers: Winter Soldier(Barnes, James B.), Taskmaster(Dreykov, Antonia)

Track: Field Agent(undercover; weapons specialist)

Appearance

Eye color: gray

Hair color: black

Skin: white; pale

Build: tall, lean, bony

Height: 5’9.79”

Weight: 101.235lbs

Notable markings:

birthmark;right thigh back, oblong Burn scar; left ankle, inside, 4”x 3”x 9”

Specialty Training

- Figure Skating

Began: 2 years

Training time: 6hrs every other day, 17hrs every Thursday and Monday

On track to the Winter Olympic Games. Reliably lands quads, possible pairing with Hydra 20180 for pair skating.

- Deadlift

Began: 6 years

Training time: 1hr daily

Will reach national record by 2028

Current capacity: 480lbs

- Combat Mimicry

Began: 7 years

Can mimic opponent’s fighting style closely. Taught by Taskmaster

- Biochemistry

- Codebreaking

- linguistics

Languages

Spoken: Russian, English, Norwegian, Welsh, Polish, Romanian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Qubecois, Italian, Latin, Ancient Greek, Greek, Old English, Cantonese, Japanese, German, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Korean, Swedish, Hindi, Punjabi, Pennsylvania Dutch and Scots Gaelic

Written: braille, Russian, English, Norwegian, Welsh, Polish, Romanian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Qubecois, Italian, Latin, Ancient Greek, Greek, Old English, Cantonese, Japanese, German, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Korean, Swedish, Hindi, Punjabi, Pennsylvania Dutch and Scots Gaelic

Read: braille, Russian, English, Norwegian, Welsh, Polish, Romanian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Qubecois, Italian, Latin, Ancient Greek, Greek, Old English, Cantonese, Japanese, German, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Korean, Swedish, Hindi, Punjabi, Pennsylvania Dutch and Scots Gaelic

Other: American Sign Language, Russian Sign Language, International Sign, Morse code

Status

[section redacted]

Role

- replace the Iron Maiden following graduation

- should Taskmaster Program default, replace Winter Soldier and Taskmaster

- restore Red Academy-HYDRA control over XXXXXXXXX

Miscellaneous

— favored by Lt.Borisov

- Untouchable Status — RE; Grad Mission

- Enforced Separations — not allowed with peers without supervision, initiated 2015

- extremely exemplary when undercover in Queer Rebellion Groups, Lesbian Covers reccomended

Graduation Mission Assign.

Seduce XXXX XXXXXXX as debutant Gabrielle La Aubrey(CF61789), knock out with C19JL1990 formula(oral component), identify and procure XXXXXX XXXXX through whirlwind romance focusing on subject’s romantic beliefs. XXXXXXX has taste for young virgin women, will have just inherited full title/shares; foolish party persona crafted. Deep Cover in France; 6 weeks, fake family emergency and return with items. (Summary)

Part II

[sunsetchicane]

just your memory [CL16]

charles leclerc x fem!reader

word count: 861 [just a little drabble!]

summary: the one where a breakup with charles is inevitable, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

based off of: [loosely] Just Your Memory by Johnnyswim and Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors

warnings: angst, tears, guilt, a kiss, unedited [sorry!]

author's note: hey team, sorry about this one. in my charles feels as of late. you know how it is. feedback is appreciated! lots of love, darling. [xoxo elle]

~~~

Your fingers tremble as you bring them to your lips. Fingertips trace along the skin there, a fresh coat of tears making them soft. The dusk breeze glides against your skin, sweeping your hair gently in its chilled fingers. Feet propped up against a chair on your lonely deck, you peer out towards the field that lingers beyond the wood railing. Quietly, you contemplate a night on this deck some weeks ago. The breakup wasn’t messy. It was quiet, lingering, profoundly painful. Closing your tired eyes, you can picture Charles’ face from that night. 

It was a night far too similar to this one, and maybe that’s why you find yourself struggling to hold on to your resolve tonight. Weeks of arguments via late night calls and furious text messages had led to a less than spectacular weekend together. With both of your demanding schedules, Charles, a driver, and you, a student working your way towards a doctorate in biochemistry, the overlap in free time was next to nonexistent. Blood, sweat, and endless tears have gone into making your relationship work. When everything went the way it was supposed to, there’s nothing in the world that could have touched you two. Time spent together was usually enough to make the entire world stop and watch; which it frequently did.

Charles had flown in to see you on a long weekend in the fall. The October weather was gorgeous in the northwest where you’d decided to attend school. Unfortunately, your tempestuous mood didn’t align with your surroundings. A dinner and a night together was plagued by phone calls and text messages from your respective occupations. The two of you ended up getting in yet another argument about needing time to just be a couple. It was a subject you knew all too well, arguing in circles about it for weeks now. The problem was that you both loved what you did so much that it kept you from loving each other the way you both deserved.

Your blue dress flowed in the wind while you stood in front of Charles. His eyes were bright and shining with tears. His neck was red from emotion, a sharp contrast to his powder blue button down. At first you thought it was funny how he accidentally matched your sundress. You loved him in that shirt. You loved him in that shirt. 

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice broken and soft. Usually, you loved hearing him speak. But hearing his voice this way was a sick type of torture. You hated that it was your doing.

“I want…” Your voice wavered, unsure of what to say. There was so much to say, but no words to say them with. I want to be there for you. I want to love you. I want you.

You approached him then, taking his face in your shaking hands. His face was hot against your cold fingers as you slid them against his cheek, wiping away his tears. Tears of your own were sliding freely down your ruddy cheeks, slipping down your neck. He was beautiful, even when he cried. But there’s no way you were going to allow him a lifetime of spending his tears on you. 

“I will never stop loving you, Charles. Even past the day I die, I will love you. But I’m going to have to love you in a different way now. I have to love you by saying goodbye.” Your voice wasn’t clear by any stretch of the imagination, but it was firm. This had to be the right thing to do. You would make it work because it had to, there was no other option. 

Without another word, he swept your hand from his face and into his own. He brought it to his chest, holding it there with infinite tenderness. It was a touch you wouldn’t ever forget, one that lingers to this day on the edges of your fingertips. He held your tearstained face with his other hand while he left one last kiss on your puffy lips. For a couple of seconds, with a furrowed brow and suppressed sobs, you tried with every thread of strength left in you to memorize exactly the way he felt. 

When he broke away, he left a broken heart in his wake. His body fell away from yours, severing the last touch you’ll ever share. Wordlessly, his last mercy, he walked into the house and out of your life. Gripping the railing, sobs wracked your aching body. Pain so profound and complete had never befallen you before. There was no precedent for the hurt that this end brought into your life. You were left in the middle of a tossing sea without a light towards home. There was no home, not anymore.

So, here you sit, an endless stream of tears pouring from your broken soul. You might have promised Charles a life where he wouldn’t have to spend his tears on you, but you never promised yourself that reprieve. You two were perfect in nearly every way, except for the ones that decided fate. Now, you live in memories alone.