#and Mits of Hide was one of the options

[krys-loves-otome]

Keef! And both mitsus!!

Character Bingo!

He's a very sweet guy, would like to know more about!

He's my OC's husbun, how can I not love him too? Also, for brain dissecting, pls teach me how to do 6 figure maths in my head, Mitsun! I beg!

I have very normal feelings about Mitsuhide Akechi from the award-winning otome game Ikemen Sengoku: Romances Across Time.

Thanks for the questions, Scummy!

[scribbling-punk]

Lena shivers in the cold air of the early morning as she carefully and quietly climbs off her bicycle and rests it against a nearby fence. She nervously glances around, watching and listening for any signs of them whilst moving though the eerily quiet streets of National City.

What was once a thriving hub of activity is now almost decimated, the streets littered with abandoned vehicles and dried pools of blood that cause bile to rise upwards to scald the back of Lena’s throat.

Smoke billows somewhere in the distance, yelling and gunshots no doubt drawing them towards the outskirts. A small blessing from above for Lena, perhaps, that some of those who had survived are still armed with reckless stupidity.

Maybe it will give her a chance to reacquaint herself with her beloved city without interruption.

Lord only knows how she’d deal with coming face to face with one of those things.

This is the first time that she has ventured outside since all of this began and, whilst a small part of her is filled with fear and regret, Lena knows that there was no other option unless she wished for she and her mother to starve to death. Lillian had told her it would be suicide to leave the house, but with a rumbling stomach and vision that blurs all too often, Lena had ignored her.

It’s not like Lillian actually seemed to care when Lena left, anyway, not when she still has booze to keep her company as she mourns the apparent loss of her son.

Scotch long finished, the vast wine cellar, despite being raised by her mother all too often, still has a few weeks worth of alcohol tucked away for Lillian to turn to. Lena won’t do that, she won’t give in and accept the death that everyone else seemed to think was inevitable.

At least, not without a fight.

Lionel, her father, hasn’t been seen since the day all of this began. He had left for work as usual in the morning, never to return whilst his daughter had nightmares of what he could so easily have been turned into since then.

A shiver crawls up her spine, unease tickling at the nape of her neck.

Lena never thought the Luthor family could ever be worse than they already are, but now, she accepts that her very worst nightmare could easily come true.

She was only supposed to be back here for a few weeks during the summer break before her senior year at MIT, but it seems Lena will be stuck here until a miracle happens, or maybe she just won’t survive at all as food supplies dwindle and the awful creatures take over the whole world.

Lena attempts to shake that thought from her head.

She has to focus.

She has to be smart, and brave, and quiet, especially as she heads towards the Walmart on the corner.

The virus had spread quickly enough that Lena knows there must be at least something left on the shelves, some non-perishables that hopefully haven’t been raised by the other survivors who haven’t made it out of the city. Anything, really, would be much better than nothing.

Lena swallows hard, convinced that one of those creatures must be able to hear her pounding heart, that one of them will appear from nowhere and attack her when she is least expecting it. She sucks in a deep breath and blows it outwards, grabbing her father’s gun from the back pocket of her worn jeans—the ones Lillian despises the most—and grips it tightly in her clammy palm.

Head, she reminds herself. That’s what always happens on television, right? Aim for the head.

She moves onwards, rolling her neck and begging her nerves to turn into steel, but Lena freezes when she spots a familiar red truck in the parking lot of the grocery store.

Seeing the truck and picturing the owner’s handsome face causes a lump to rise in her throat. Whilst she and her mother were hiding, Lena always prayed that her college friends had made it out of here safely, but the track tells her that one of them—and the most important one of all—most likely hasn’t.

That’s one of the worst parts of all this.

Not knowing who is, and who isn’t, alive and well in this new way of life.

She and Kara hadn’t quite gotten around to becoming an official couple and Lena is devastated to realize that she was wrong last semester; that they didn’t have all the time in the world to get there, after all. Tears scald the corners of her eyes, but Lena doesn’t allow them to fall—refuses to let herself react and believe that Kara is truly gone.

A world without Sunshine Danvers, and her ridiculous old truck, is one that Lena wants no part of.

Lena forces herself to walk onwards until she finds an empty frame where a large window used to be, carefully avoiding shards of broken glass as she steps inside Walmart. It’s eerily quiet inside the large store, but Lena’s pulse thunders in her ears and the hairs on the nape of her neck stand erect, her gut telling her that she isn’t alone.

Her heart batters her ribs as she edges further into the store and further away from the broken window; from Lena’s nearest escape route.

Lena’s hand tightens around the gun, prepared to shoot at a seconds notice as she heads further inside.

It’s as cold inside as it is outside, her breath fogging outwards in front of her face in small clouds, and she wonders if hypothermia will catch up with them all before the creatures do. Sure, their house is intact, but there’s no heating and only so many books and notepads that can be burned in a warm fire. Perhaps that is still much better than being bitten and turned into one of those things, though.

She doubts Lillian, without so much alcohol in her system these days, will even notice that the cold is ready to take her until it is already too late.

Lena has no idea what she will do then.

“Jesus fucking Christ!

She freezes on the spot, the hushed cursing soon followed by the squeaking of a shoe, and hope soars and blooms within Lena’s chest before the sudden fear could even have a chance to take hold.

Lena knows that voice.

Lena has spent three years living with that voice and telling it to shut the hell up at two in the morning whilst her headboard thumped loudly against their shared wall.

She wants to call out, but it'd be far too risky if there are any of those things nearby, so instead, Lena quietly follows the voice towards the canned food section. The shelves are bare, some of them hanging on their hinges, and Lena rolls her eyes when she only catches a glimpse of her friend disappearing around the end of the aisle. Quickly, but carefully, Lena follows after her, but she halts when she turns the corner to find a gun only inches from her forehead.

“Lena,” is all Andrea breathes out before she pulls her into a bone crushing hug. “You scared the crap out of me, I thought you were one of them!”

Andrea pulls back and holds Lena by the shoulders as they study each other.

Lena briefly wonders if she looks as tired as Andrea does, but honestly, she couldn't care less at this point, not now that she has confirmation that one of her loved ones is alive and relatively well.

“I…. I saw Kara’s truck,” Lena whispers, terrified of how Andrea will respond.

“She’s here, she’s okay,” Andrea nods, offering an exhausted smile as the tightness in Lena’s chest loosens, “but, Lena, we… we thought you were dead.”

“Only on the inside,” Lena weakly jokes. “Lillian and I are the only ones left and…”

She trails off when there’s movement behind them, spinning on her heel to meet the pretty blue eyes that she has been seeing every night in her dreams.

“Kara….”

“You’ve been with Lillian this whole time?”

Lena watches as Kara’s throat bobs with a thick swallow, the air between them charged and their intense eye contact only briefly breaking when Sam joins them. Lena doesn’t at all miss the way Sam stands impossibly close to Andrea, her hand resting just a little too low on Andrea’s spine for their relationship to still be platonic, but now isn’t the time to question it.

That time will come once they are all no longer out in the open, once they are safe and have a chance to speak without the fear of interruption from the creatures who wish to tear them apart from limb to limb.

“I… yes,” Lena nods, her hands trembling as Kara reaches out to grasp them. “I didn’t know what to do and it’s been so long, I—”

Warm, slightly chapped lips capturing her own cuts Lena off mid sentence, her body automatically sinking into Kara’s embrace as strong arms wrap around her and hold Lena tight. For a moment, one single, glorious moment, the world isn’t falling apart around their ears, relief and fondness flooding through Lena and warming her from the tips of her toes to the very top of her head.

“Um,” Sam awkwardly clears her throat, “I’m not sure that this is the time for—”

“Keep it in your pants for now, huh?” Andrea interrupts with a scowl, “I’m sure you can get reacquainted once we’re not walker-bait and miles from anywhere safe.”

Lena frowns and glances between them all.

“Where have you been staying?”

“We’ve been moving around,” Kara murmurs, “but mostly in the truck. The roads are either blocked or too dangerous to go anywhere else, we couldn’t even get to your place when we tried to.” She glances over her shoulder when there’s a scuffling sound from the far corner of the store, “we should go. We’ve been here too long and they always seem to find us if we don’t keep moving.”

Pretty blue eyes land back on Lena one more, “and you’re coming with us because I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again.”

Lena, despite everything—their dire situation—blushes when a calloused hand wraps around her own.

“Why don’t you come back to the mansion?” Lena shrugs, “Lillian barely knows what planet she’s on these days and there’s more than enough room for you to avoid her if you want to. It’s safe there, at least for now, I promise you.” She smiles weakly, “less populated.”

Kara glances towards Sam and Andrea with a small smile, both she and Lena watching as Sam kisses Andrea’s forehead.

“See, baby? I told you it could only get better.”

Ko-Fi

[p-taryn-dactyl]

What about Tony Stark x daughter! reader who's dating someone (Could be Peter, but doesn't have to be) and Tony makes some sort of sex joke when talking to the both of them, but doesn't realize his daughter is asexual (the joke made her a tad bit uncomfortable) and it ends in her coming out to Tony? If not that's totally okay, ty either way! <3

a/n: hi!! Thank you so much for this request!! I love writing asexual!reader, it makes me all nice and warm inside :) i headcanon tony as being the most accepting father ever so yes i am projecting during this fic lol. The joke in this fic is more of an off handed thing, like an innuendo maybe, because i don’t think tony would openly joke about the devils tango with his child word count: 1.1k

The loud conversations of the other patrons of the restaurants did little to hide the sound of your beating heart. Nerves on edge, you folded your napkin over and over, almost ripping it until you felt a warm hand covering your own. Looking up, you saw the concerned yet comforting expression of your boyfriend. Peter smiled at you and you felt a small part of your fear melt away. Taking a deep breath, you entwined your fingers with his, squeezing slightly. Everything would be okay, nothing could go wrong tonight. Your dad loved Peter, he saw him as a son long before you started dating him. 

“I think I hear him,” Peter whispered into your ear, squeezing your hand, “Let’s do this before all my bravado melts away like the ice cream we’ll have for dessert.” 

You laughed slightly, your eyes going to the front of the restaurant, watching as your dad joked with the hostess before walking arm-in-arm with Pepper towards your table. Peter stood up as they approached, pulling out a chair for Pepper. He stared at Tony awkwardly before slowly pulling out your dad’s chair for him. Pepper hid her smile behind her hand as Tony sat down with a false sense of haughtiness. You stifled your own giggle at Peter’s expression as he sat down, looking at you with wide eyes before turning back to address your parents. 

“Mr. Stark, I-”

Tony held a hand up, pausing Peter’s train of thought. Your dad leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him as he looked at Peter over the tinted sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Kid, I’ve trusted you in my lab, with my bots, I’ve trusted you with a suit to help the world. All I need to know is if I can trust you with my daughter?” 

Peter nodded rapidly, seemingly stunned, a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. You covered his hand with yours, once more holding hands. Tony followed the movement with his eyes and after a minute, nodded and took off his sunglasses. 

“Well, my part is over. Pep?” 

Peter now looked genuinely terrified. You smirked slightly as you took a sip of your water, you knew your mother was an intimidating woman, you’ve seen politicians lose their poise just from one raise of her eyebrow. Peter’s eyes were wide as Pepper adjusted her silverware, waving out her napkin before laying it on her lap and bringing her eyes to meet Peter’s. Your boyfriend audibly gulped. You and Tony made eye contact before returning your attention to your respective partners. 

“Let me be very clear. You make my daughter happy. If, and I mean every word, there is a day you let that happiness be broken because of your actions, you will regret it. I have friends in high and low places and if they can’t deal with you, I will do it myself.” Pepper finished her speech with a sip of the red wine you had ordered for her. Peter looked like he was about to pee his pants. He stuttered out a reply. 

“If I ever break her heart, I’ll gladly accept your wrath, Ms. Potts.” 

Your mom seemed to like that answer, as a wide smile grew on her face. 

“Wonderful! Now, let’s look over the menu, I’m starving.” 

As you looked over the menu, zoning out as you scanned over the options, you heard Peter and Pepper fall into a conversation over his schooling at MIT. A nudge against your calf made you look up at your dad, who was looking at you with a question in his eyes. You read it perfectly. 

You okay? 

You nodded, smiling softly before returning back to the menu. After a few moments, you decided on a sushi roll with lobster and mango as well as a side of gyoza. A waitress came over and took everyones order with ease before walking away, leaving your family to comfortable conversation. Mostly talking about school and secret hero business, you felt your dad’s social battery start to die out, the same slowly starting to happen to you. In an attempt to liven up the conversation, your dad looked at the two of you with a mischievous expression. 

“So, I heard you two are sharing a hotel room tonight? Is this a ‘there’s only one bed’ situation?” 

Something in the tone of his voice made you fidget, Peter looking over at you before answering. 

“There’s only one bed as far as I’m aware, it was the cheapest option.”

Tony started to wiggle his eyebrows and a stream of thoughts ran rapidly in your mind. 

Crap, he’s getting the wrong idea. You need to tell him, Y/N! Come on, he’s your dad, you can do this, tell him!

“Nothings going to happen, Dad!” You tried to match his joking tone but it came out as more of a squeal. Tony looked at you with concern, something in his eyes that you couldn’t interpret. 

“Y/N, you and Peter are two consenting adults, I have no control over what you do as long as it’s safe and consensual-”

“I’m ace!” You blurted out, your eyes widening as you slapped a hand over your mouth. The table went silent, your parents looking at you with equally surprised expressions, Peter watching them with a protective glint in his eyes. You removed your hand from your mouth, lowering your eyes to the condensation that your drink had left on the table, drawing pictures in the water as you spoke. 

“I’m-I’m asexual. I don’t like or want, uh, sex. I just don’t experience sexual attraction…” You trailed off, your voice already quiet as you waited for responses. What felt like years passed before you heard your dad whisper your name, raising your eyes to meet his. He had a sheen of tears in his eyes as he smiled at you. 

“Thank you for telling me, I’m so proud. And I’m sorry if what I was insinuating made you uncomfortable.” The mature tone of your father’s voice threw you off and you smiled worriedly at your parents, Pepper returning your smile. 

“So you don’t think I’m broken or I just don’t know what I’m talking about?” 

Pepper was quick to answer. 

“Oh honey, no. Being asexual isn’t being broken and if anyone tells you otherwise, they’re idiots who never developed advanced thinking.” 

Peter sent your mom a grateful smile, not lost on you. Tony fidgeted a bit before saying something that shocked you. 

“I’m demisexual. Your mother is the only person I’ve ever felt genuine sexual attraction to. Well, except maybe Steve Rogers.” 

Pepper slapped Tony with her napkin as she laughed. You and Peter groaned at the mention of your dad’s not-so-fake crush on the Capsicle. The rest of the dinner went by smoothly, each of you ordering ice cream for dessert. That night, as you and Peter were cuddled up in the small hotel bed watching Doctor Who reruns, you wondered how you were so lucky for the people in your life.

[mirqmarq428]

Powershell syntax is not confusing

(you are just confused because posix compliant shells have corrupted your mind)

> do-action -param "string" $variable (do this first) [type]value

To declare a function:

function do-mythings {

param([int]$argument)

$argument + 5

}

> do-mythings -arg 5

10

That's all you need to get started.

Numbers are just numbers.

Inline math just works. Parentheses for order of operations.

Strings you put in quotes - double quotes allow interpolation, single quotes don't. This is the same as sh.

All variables are prefixed with $s. Even when declaring them. This makes slightly more sense than sh.

A region in {squirrelly braces} gets the [scriptblock] data type. It's like a lambda but comprehensible by mere mortals.

if (test) {success} else {fail} - the test is always executed first because (). Success and fail conditions only depending on the test. They're script blocks. No weird special syntax, if may as well be a user function.

Functions can be named anything, but the convention is Verb-PlaceThing. Not case sensitive.

Named arguments are specified with a single hyphen, like MIT Unix software (xorg for instance). If there is only one parameter the name is optional, etc. Param names can be abbreviated as long as they aren't ambiguous. This is also easy to follow with your own functions, unlike in sh (fricking hate getopt).

Types are inferred dynamically because it's easier to write scripts that way. If you need to force something (variable, expression, whatever) to have a specific type, put it in [brackets] beforehand. The type names are the same as c# and every other post-algol language. For comparison, posix shell only has one type, String.

To make an array, @(item1, item2, etc)

To make a hashtable, @{

key1 = val1

key2 = val2

}

Adding strings concatenates them together. Adding numbers adds their values. If this is not satisfactory, declare their types and it will work.

All expressions are technically objects with properties and methods. $var.property returns the value of that property. $var.invokeMethod() runs the method, which is just a function built into that data type by some poor intern 20 years ago.

Pipes (|) work similarly to sh, but transfer objects. The current object in the pipeline is always the variable $_.

As a bonus, here's a one-liner for opening Internet Explorer on Windows 11 (they lied, it's still there, they will never remove it)

(new-object -com "InternetExplorer.application").visible = $true

COM is an old windows api. Com Objects are just instances of apps. We open internet explorer as a com object.

The parentheses sets that as an expression, and its return value _is_ the exploder. It has properties like visibility, which is $false by default. This is boring so set it to $true. Now we have a real working instance of an app they've been trying to remove for years, because they can't actually remove it merely hide it away. As long as the windows api can parse HTML, this will still work.

[rad-roche]

chit-chattin about voiced protagonist and pre-war stuff

i'm not big on the whole voiced fallout protagonist thing, don't get me wrong, it was an attempt to ape mass effect and that format had its problems anyway, but i think the actors are charismatic enough that i don't hate it on principle. the biggest problem arises in the 'four buttons for all options' speech system. to account for your psuedo-shep, npc and companion dialogue has to be scaled way, way back and be more expository and functional. there are a reason companions are far and away the most popular aspect of the game, and i'm saying that as somebody big in on a particular one because they conjured an interesting guy by what may be total accident. they get to be characters and have a distinct voice. everybody else either has to tell you, upfront, what their deal is or hide it behind a speech check so obvious that you can infer it yourself. the game isn't devoid of them, cricket for example, but there aren't too many

but i think the biggest missed opportunity, more than the valentine kellogg brain thing, is that the game picks up a person mired in a regressive, stagnant system, somebody who would know it intimately (lawyer) or enforce it through violence (soldier), dumps them in a future where these fixed points of their reality no longer exist, everybody dead, and forgets that this may in fact be an interesting vein to dig out. you're a soldier and the war you fought in killed BILLIONS of people and warped the face of the earth forever and, unlike the ghouls, it's totally fresh for you! and it sort of doesn't come up? you get a couple of offhand reactions but that's about it. your character isn't a fish out of water, they're somebody who got off at the wrong bus stop and has to stop a passing stranger for directions. oh wow, only center for learning left in the city is a ten foot cube in the baseball stadium teaching basic literacy, huh? I saw MIT at its peak two days ago! bye! you could blindfold anybody, tape them to a chair, spin them at centrifuge speed and make them throw darts with their mouth and i bet you nine out of ten times they'd hit something fascinating with that basic premise. let's try it with this guy. let's see here. 'find missing baby'. oh god oh shit it's john bethesda oh f

[realcatalina]

Golden-haired Madona

I have said it is probably impossible to remove discoloured varnish from painting  of Catherine of Aragon as Virgin Mary- Maria mit dem Kind by Michael Sittow, Gemäldegalerie, Berlin, but this is not discoloured, it’s just dark:

In close up it is obvious-these are golden locks.

Here bit of red paint unfortutely hids beauty of some of those golden locks(it’s probably due to water damage)

Not even hint of being more to red than to golden.

I have recently checked their webpage again and to my surprise another window popped up and the painting as I never seen it before. For first time showing true colours.

Here is comparison-on left version prior, on right current:

Link: https://recherche.smb.museum/images/5244327_2500x2500.jpg#814623

And you might prefer the previous version which is on left. Because it seems to be in better condition. And that is exactly the problem. The painting was in horrible state prior to conservation. It must have taken great skill for it to be saved!

And the correctly done conservation should not hide most of the damage which occured. That’s what reproductions are for!

From this new version that aside from major cracks, it seems that the painting  suffered  water damage, which blured paint at places and the layer of paint is very thin. Much thinner than it is owe to be, and that is why most of skin is greyish. I am tbh surprised we don’t see undersketch(perhaps Sittow didn’t do one and painted without it). Those very light brown  marks in the skin-that is paint missing. And there is a lot of it! 

It’s not the case that same damage is not in rest of the paiting, but that it is just most obvious in skin, because we tend to focus on the face.

This the painting in its true form. It shows its history, good and bad. 

But then what about the versions circulating online? Are they photoshoped?

Not necessarly. I was under opinion it was due to discoloured varnish-but now comparing the two version it seems varnish was removed prior...hence imo the previous version’s more reddish hue is due to wrong colour of light chosen for the photoshoot. It was too yellow and distorted colours. 

Not by much. But enough. Sadly this occasionally happens even in professional institutions. Too yellow light, too bright light, not bright enough light.

It takes great skill to photograph it properly without distorting the colours(and kudos to proffesionals who can do it!)

It’s also possible that worse condition of the painting makes it light sensitive and thus photographers have limited options of what kind of light they can use. 

So while this will seem to many as not bright enough, but it is better because colours are correct. 

However if you wish to get close to original form, one has to add brightness artificially. Just brightness, nothing else. I tried it. 

Unfortunately, due to red fabric around her, if you see entire painting, you might consider those hair much redder than when you see the hair with much less of this red fabric. It’s optical ilusion.(At least it seems this way to me.)

But much better in closeup. Truly golden hair, but also seeing it you understand why her hair was described as red-gold. Because it is reddish gold.

There is redness to it too, but it is certainly more golden than red. 

Thus this portrait also shows her with golden hair, to reddish hues.  3/3 portraits by Sittow show almost exact same hue of hair. It was just not best photo of this paintings which made us believe the hues were very different. 

Good Queen Catherine truly looked as golden haired Madona.

[ibrinfotech]

Benefits of Laravel Development Services for New Businesses

Taylor Otwell invented Laravel, one of the most popular open-source frameworks for website development, which uses a model–view–controller (MVC) structure based on Symfony, a collection of reusable PHP components. This PHP framework’s source code is available on GitHub under the terms of the MIT License.

For building an amazing CMS or Web application, Laravel is responsive, light, clear, and easy to use. It comes with a number of tools and modules that help developers build everything from simple to big web applications faster. As a result, there is no need to rebuild functions in each software project. Data-related software solutions, content-oriented websites such as news and blogs, enterprise software such as CRM and CMS, e-commerce-based software, and social networking websites are examples of specific categories. This framework offers a set of classes that make the life of PHP developers considerably simpler. As a result, Laravel is more beneficial when a developer wants to hide parts of the sophisticated HTTP or adds crucial functionality.

Because of its simplicity, clarity, and utility, Laravel Web Development is in great demand. The developer community prefers Laravel because it allows for more coding experience and faster creation of non-redundant code in apps. Laravel web development is utilized by enterprises, industries, and businesses that are constantly evolving and in high demand throughout the world, allowing their community to thrive for many years. Because Laravel’s MVC isolates models from views, the amount of dependencies between them is reduced, and modifications to one layer have a little influence on the others. MVC code is more structured, less brittle, and simpler to debug as a consequence.

One of the main advantages of Laravel is that the code base is extremely secure, with few to no dangers and robust protection. Laravel also uses a blade templating engine, which allows you to create unique and attractive layouts. Blade views are assembled and cached until they are further updated, reducing loading time and improving search engine results. Furthermore, Laravel generates an authentication configuration file with numerous options out of the box, allowing you to create a fully effective authentication scheme with a single command. You may simply add capabilities to apps without having to write them from start using Laravel’s modular packaging system, develop your own code packages, or install ready-to-use packages for routine usage.

Laravel development services often employ software specialists that specialize in the Laravel framework. They enable the creation of high-functioning web apps that improve the user experience. A Laravel developer is in charge of creating and maintaining contemporary online applications using standard web development tools, producing clean and secure modular code that has been rigorously tested and evaluated, and validating the validity and consistency of HTML, CSS, and JavaScript across platforms. They are also responsible for diagnosing and resolving technical difficulties, managing and creating databases, and running back-end and User Interface (UI) testing to improve an application’s operation. These developers also coordinate with other developers (front-end, back-end, mobile app, etc.) and project managers to expedite software development and document task progress, architecture, and development process, all while staying current with the latest technology trends and best practices in Laravel.

The expanding needs of the web industry are difficult to match, especially if your web development staff lacks essential skills. Maintaining a sense of balance in this profession necessitates keeping up with the ever-changing online trends. The rising IT industry standards have prompted us to consider a ready-to-use solution to fulfill market requirements. The most crucial element to utilize for this aim is an effective framework.

You can undoubtedly deal with the shifting wants of the industry if you use an innovative framework. This is where skilled Laravel web development services come in, that do extensive study and develop new ideas in order to keep up with the latest technical developments throughout the world. Thus, hiring a professional Laravel application development company to finish your website development tasks with accuracy and progress has numerous advantages.

IBR Infotech is one of the top Web Development Companies, providing a comprehensive range of Laravel application development services at reasonable costs to its customers. They have a skilled team of developers that are well-versed in the Laravel Platform and can provide you with high-quality solutions at a fair cost if you want to hire Lavarel developers. They have a long history of offering business development services and are capable of delivering web app development and mobile solutions using agile development approaches.

[spaarksapp]

The Evolution Of Human Relationships

 How Technology is impacting the way we connect

Thanks to technological advancements, the way we interact with one another has changed significantly in recent years. Connecting with others has never been simpler thanks to social media, dating apps, and online communication platforms, but these developments have also had a profound effect on how people create relationships.

The Rise of Virtual Communication:

The development of online communication has been one of the most significant recent shifts in interpersonal interactions. It’s now simpler than ever to stay in touch with friends and loved ones, no matter where they are in the world, thanks to the development of social media, texting, and video conferencing systems like Zoom. This has given people the ability to sustain relationships over vast distances and has created new opportunities for interpersonal communication.

Some individuals are concerned that the increase in virtual communication may result in a loss in in-person connections. As Sherry Turkle, a professor of social studies of science and technology at MIT, notes,

“People are losing the capacity for solitude and reflection, and that’s a very serious thing.”

To put it another way, although technology has made it simpler to interact with others, it has also made it simpler to avoid real human connection and to hide behind a screen.

The Changing Nature of Dating:

The dating industry is another place where technology has had a huge impact on human relationships. The ease with which we may now meet possible partners thanks to dating applications like Tinder and Bumble has transformed the way we see dating. In the words of author and writer Nancy Jo Sales,

“We’ve become a culture that’s obsessed with the idea of the perfect match, and we’ve lost sight of the fact that human relationships are messy and complicated.”

In other words, because individuals are always swiping and searching for the ideal match, technology has bred an expectation of fast gratification in dating. Due to their ongoing search for improvement, it might be challenging for people to develop sincere relationships with one another.

The Future of Human Relationships:

So, what does the future of human relationships hold? Will we continue to rely on technology to communicate with one another, or will we return to more conventional methods? The truth is most likely somewhere in the middle. While technology will continue to play an important role in how we communicate with one another, it is also possible that people will begin to prioritise face-to-face interactions and genuine human connection.

“People are starting to realise that they’re not getting what they want from these superficial connections”

writes author and psychology professor Jean Twenge,

“and they’re starting to crave something more.”

In other words, as technology continues to alter how we communicate with one another, individuals are realising that genuine human connection can only be discovered through genuine, face-to-face conversations.

Conclusion:

Finally, technological advancements are changing the way we communicate with one another. While internet communication has made it simpler to connect with others, it has also resulted in less face-to-face contacts and a greater emphasis on quick gratification. However, as people become more aware of technology’s limitations in building genuine human connections, it’s conceivable that we’ll see a return to more conventional modes of communication.

“We’re never going back to a time when people didn’t communicate over screens,”

writes author and activist Gloria Steinem,

“but we need to remember that real human connection is about more than just a like or a swipe.”

Suggestions:

~Digital Transformation is a necessity — Not an Option

~New Hobbies To Adopt In 2023

~The Zen Of Tea

[localwebslingers]

Peter thought over the idea, "...I don't know if I'd have changed my mind about MIT during the Blip if I was here for it or not. But maybe I would have." he admitted. It wasn't really something he'd thought about. The whole thing had lasted five years and if he stayed behind but his friends, classmates, and aunt had still vanished? Peter wasn't sure if he'd still leave New York for college or if he'd find it too hard to try and leave home. ESU had always been one of his backup schools, they had an incredible science program and he could only imagine that was part of why Oscorp was hiring from there.

But he'd been set on MIT since he entered high school, at least that was the plan.

In hindsight, Peter couldn't imagine not going to ESU. Harry and Gwen were great, all of his professors were brilliant and fun to learn from, the campus had way more opportunities and programs than he'd first realized. If he'd realized all of those options back then, he might have thought about staying home. He almost flet his face warm at the idea that Dr. Conners would actually recommend him personally. Not sure if that would have been true then or now, but it was a nice idea.

"But I don't mind that I Blipped I guess. I mean it was weird coming back, but I got to meet you and Gwen, and share classes with you guys. I think that's a pretty solid win for getting to college late." maybe he could have talked to MJ and Ned and see if they wanted to try for ESU too. Peter wondered if they'd all have gotten along, if they actually did all go to school together. Meet-ups for coffee to hang out or just study together for tests.

Which would have also meant even more people to help try and sneak into Harry's office and hide snacks around the place. Peter blinked and straightened slightly at Harry's admittance, "Wait, seriously? I was ready to have to sneak in and distract security and everything to let Gwen slip in and hide stuff." because Peter was really good at causing distractions. Mostly with criminals but that skill probably transferred over to security at a company. Not that he was going to test that anytime soon, "And it's way less fun if you know where the snacks are. Do you really want to ruin the surprise?"

|| @inhcritance ||

"If I'd known you?" Harry replied, some laughter on his tone despite the honesty within. "Doubtlessly."

And he wouldn't have been the only one, all in all. Not back then.

"The Blip left Oscorp very heavily understaffed. We did recruit heavily from ESU once we got a handle on the situation." He admitted. "And it kept the executives busy for a while."

Which had let him seize power properly and get control of Oscorp without losing as much ground as other companies.

"Then again," he hummed, "even if I hadn't known you, I feel like Dr. Connors might have recommended you."

The man had an eye for talent, despite his tendency to become a Lizard. And despite Peter's tendency towards chaos, not that Harry was much better. Not with the way the corners of his mouth rose at Peter's seriousness, the smile impossible to hide.

"Don't let Anya hear about it." Was all he said. "She'd offer you suggestions, and might even glare at anyone trying to oppose it." And she definitely had quite the glare. "Still, she's been told to let you or Gwen into my office anytime I'm there." He revealed. "So that wouldn't have to change."

She also had permission to let Gwen in even if he wasn't there, just in case. Because he trusted Oscorp that little.

@localwebslingers

[coder4u]

What Is Block Based Coding ?

What is block coding, then? Computer science has evolved into a crucial subject for children to master early in school since it is becoming an increasingly essential element of every aspect of society.

Although text-based programming languages like Java or Python are used for the majority of coding, these tools are difficult to learn and are only utilized by specialists. They need to be precise, easily recalled, and use language and grammar that computers can easily understand. For many years, the only available programming languages were text-based ones like C++ and Java, which increased entrance barriers for students of all ages, but especially for younger ones.

What Is Block Based Programming ?

Block coding is a programming technique that combines text-based computer commands into pre-programmed blocks that can be dropped into place to create computer programmes like animations and games. Block coding is referred to as “syntax-free” since users do not have to pay attention to the syntax and sequence of the commands and punctuation, which are memorized in text-based programming.

Programs like Scratch or Blockly pre-build the blocks so that children can learn to code by concentrating on fundamental ideas, structural logic, and problem-solving rather than being bored or frustrated by the complexity of text-based coding.

Block Coding For Kids

Users select pre-made blocks from the color-coded menu to the left of the screen, drag and drop the blocks into the center of the screen, where they click together to form chunks of code, as you can see in our example of MIT’s Scratch. The code then appears in the stage on the right upper side of the screen.

Sprites are dynamic shapes and figures that can be programmed. The bottom-right corner of the screen contains a wide variety of different backgrounds. Or you may use a paint option to make your own. This straightforward design hides a sophisticated framework that allows you to easily construct fun things like the Basket Pong game you see below.

Block Coding Websites For Kids

1. Scratch

Scratch is the largest coding community for kids and was founded in 2003 by computer scientists at MIT who sought to make coding enjoyable and approachable. It was created by the nonprofit Scratch Foundation and features a vibrant, user-friendly interface with code blocks that stick together. Scratch is updated and moderated on a regular basis. Kids can learn to code their own animations, games, and stories with Scratch. More than 70 different languages are supported by Scratch, which is free. Even more, Create & Learn provides a live online Scratch course. Kids will develop computational thinking and problem-solving skills while having fun. Some students find using Scratch to be so much fun that they occasionally lose sight of the fact that they are picking up useful skills.

2. Music Blocks

For older children (13+), an excellent coding website is called Music Blocks. It teaches computer science foundations while also teaching music via block coding and music-related ideas. Involving, enjoyable, and cost-free. Contrary to Scratch, expert users can really alter the algorithms contained within blocks of code because to the open software’s freedom to be altered, remixed, and modified by users. It is a helpful introduction to Digital Audio Workstation recording software like Logic and Ableton Live if you have a musically minded kid. It is a fantastic approach to incorporate STEM and music appreciation. Given that it was created by educators, a classroom would benefit greatly from having it.

Block Coding Apps For Kids

1. Stencyl

With the help of the stunning game-design programme Stencyl, kids can create their own games without having to know much about coding. Despite the design’s simplicity, players can create 2-D platformer and dungeon crawler games that are similar of the first Zelda and Pokemon games using pre-built bricks. This coding tool is great for keeping youngsters interested in coding without overwhelming them with too many ideas. Kids will enjoy it a lot.

2. Code Spark Academy

Kids may learn the fundamentals of computer programming through a wide variety of hands-on learning activities in the award-winning CodeSpark Academy app. The app is ideal for smaller children because the teachers are adorable characters. With regular projects and exercises that teach the basics of coding, it will aid their learning. The daily routine will adapt as your child develops to prevent boredom while ensuring that they are never overworked. There are no in-app advertisements or microtransactions for them to click on, and parents can keep an eye on everything as an added security measure.

Learn Block Programming For Kids

Have you ever wondered what block-based coding is? Now you know. We sincerely hope you’ll check out some of the fantastic block coding programmes, games, and courses we mentioned here. Consider enrolling in Create & Learn’s free Scratch class, or look at how to create a Pacman game on Scratch, if you’re ready to start learning block coding from an experienced teacher.

CodeKaroYaaro

CodeKaroYaaro

CodeKaroYaaro has the following features that differs them from any other institute -

1. 1 -one- 1 Interactive sessions

2. Instant doubt solving

3. Learn how to brainstorm ideas

4. Affordable fees

5. Quality education

6. Mentor support for kids

For more details, Contact CodeKaroYaaro here-

CodeKaroYaaro — www.codekaroyaaro.com

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Address — H NO. 1951, Near Water Tank Annamod, Khaparkheda, Nagpur, Maharashtra, 441102

[yoongisleftearring]

part twenty-four: you can't run from fate

B L O O D & W A T E R

pairing: witch!Leeknow x reader

-> in which you are thrown into the magical world of Creon alone, without knowing that you could be the one to tear it apart.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: writing action is not my forte and is struggled a lot so it better be worth it !!!

; violence, blood, cursing, bad people

previous < masterlist > next

Taglist: @channieboyo @wolfebang @yellowroseskolchek @a-lil-bit-nuts @wondering-out-loud @hyunee1 @wandathescarletbitch @captivq @mits-vi @yunapixie @autumn-lv @midnightfury71 @indelicate-macalino @qnjayn@inniesmenu@soobin-chois @mingyu1pup @ellientaste @breathingwastaken @smhlino

====================================

"Are you okay?" Minho whispers as he grabs hold of your hand, you nod and allow him to pull you to your feet. You look past the witch in front of you to the group of students that stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at the two of you. You send Minho a small smile and lead him towards the large group, still gripping his hand. He noticed that you were still shaking slightly, felt it in the way your fingers trembled between his and he hoped that the warmth of his hand would somehow soothe your worries.

"Y/n, thank god you're okay," Yuqi sighed as she reached a hand forward to rest on your shoulder. "What was that?" she continued, motioning to the rain which had calmed down substantially.

"You were losing control," Hyunjin frowns, worry creasing his forehead.

"Look, there's a lot we haven't told you-" Chan begins but you cut him off.

"The prophecy? Oh yeah, I heard plenty from our lovely headmaster. It's why they brought me here," you sighed, remembering the woman's harsh words.

"But why?" Seungmin questioned.

"They wanted to use me for something," you said, staring down at the floor. "They said I had something that nobody else has, something they want." Minho frowned at your words and the expressions of each person in the room darkened in worry.

"Where is she?" you asked as you looked around the room, and only now did you see the mess that the room was in, there were books littering the floor, loose pages scattered, and broken vases that looked to be from some dynasty and were probably worth more money than you had ever even seen. But, there was no sign of the headmaster.

"She ran, but I think I know where," Seungmin spoke and suddenly all eyes were on him, the boy blushed at the sudden attention but continued nonetheless. "There's this place, the faculty always go there. It's far away and hidden, a good place to hide from a god and her group of misfits."

"I am not a misfit, Kim," Jisung scoffed, earning nothing but a sympathetic pat on the back from Changbin.

"And, I am not a god," you laugh.

"Well, the closest thing we have," Seungmin shrugged his shoulders, a comfortable smile on his lips.

"Okay," Chan interrupted. "Do we have a game plan or are we gonna just storm in there again?" 

"Worked out okay for us last time," Felix smiled. Chan sighed.

"We can't let them run, we need barriers around the area stopping them from portalling out," you nod in Chan's direction and he seems pleased with some semblance of a plan beginning to form.

"I can take care of that," Minho replies.

"Okay, then we'll have to split up, we don't know how many members of the school faculty will be there." 

"So we can split up into good and bad and work from there," Yuqi nods.

"No. Opposites should be together, that way we have more options when it comes to attacks." The group seems to be slightly stunned by your words. It's not like it didn't make sense but it was unheard of, their powers weren't meant to aid each other. Minho looks at you thoughtfully for a moment, shooting you a knowing smile.

"She's right, you mightn't like it but we don't really have a choice here," Minho speaks clearly, his tone definite, leaving no room for anyone else to argue.

"And I'm going for the headmaster," you muttered.

---

"We can't give up on this, not when we've gotten so far," a voice spoke.

"You didn't see it, I wouldn't be surprised if she took the whole school with her," the headmaster sneered.

"But our plans-"

"Forget it, we failed. We'll have to find another way," she cut the man off.

"Those meddling children, what are we supposed to do with them now?" another voice asked.

"We take care of them quietly, accuse them of crimes against the state. It won't be a problem," the woman laughed.

"The poor boy will end up just like his mother," another woman voiced, although you couldn't detect any sorrow despite her words. It was then that you heard a shout, a flash of light hurtling towards the woman who had just spoken. The dark-haired woman's eyes widened in surprise but she had no time to retaliate, the energy hitting her square in the chest, sending her to the floor. Minho removed the invisibility charm from the two of you and you stood face-to-face with the woman who had begun this whole thing. All eyes were on you.

Then came the loud sound of glass shattering. The tiny windows of the small hut splintered and fell to the ground and you could faintly hear the hushed laughs of Chan and Felix.

"What are you waiting for? Get them!" the headmaster boomed at the members of the faculty that gaped at her. Five of them scrambled out of the room, and you were thankful for the distraction your friends provided. Now, there were only two left in the dimly lit room. Minho kept the woman who had yet to pick herself up from the floor occupied while you charged at the headmaster. 

Minho glowered down at the middle-aged woman who held a sour smile on her lips as she stared up at him.

"Ah, Lee Minho. What? Did I say something wrong?" she snickered as she stood up from the cold floor.

"You know nothing about me," he scoffed, fury lighting up his eyes.

"Oh? Of course I do, it was me that took you away from that insane hag. You should be thanking me really," she laughed. Minho's eyes widened a the woman's words but he didn't make a move yet.

"You did this, you all did this."

"What are you going to do? I've heard that you're following in your mommy's footsteps. Dark magic? Really?"

"You'll never understand so I won't entertain it," Minho hissed. "But, I will find out exactly what happened to my mother and you will all pay for your crimes." The woman's smile faded slightly at Minho's words.

"You w-" she tried but was interrupted by the flick of Minho's finger, she tried to speak again but found only muted mumbles to come out of her, her eyes widened like saucers as she lifted her fingers to her lips, or what should have been her lips but was now nothing but more skin. Her eyes narrowed as she hovered her hand over her mouth, undoing the witch's spell.

The two cast spell after spell at each other until it seemed like they were at a crossroads, their almost equal power making it extremely difficult for one person to get the upper hand over another.

"Lee!" he heard a voice boom from the opposite side of the room. Changbin stood, chest heaving and eyes dark as threw a ball of flames in their direction, Minho guided the burning magic toward the woman and she ducked, managing to dodge the attack but she didn't manage to dodge Changbin who had managed to run to her and wrap a metal band around her wrist. The woman looked down at the metal in confusion but shook her head, raising her hands to cast a spell in the fairy's direction but much to her dismay, nothing happened. Changbin let out a giggle as he watched her utter confusion. She let out a scream and lunged for Changbin but Minho managed to halt her movements before she could wrap her hands around the man's neck.

"Nice work man," Changbin smiled as he looked at the woman who stood still, unable to move anymore and completely powerless thanks to the metal band Seungmin had designed.

"Yeah, you too," Minho smirked at him, trying to hide his shock at the man who had helped him take the wicked woman down.

---

"You slimy little girl, must you always create problems for me?" the headmaster asked, her red-painted lips pursing in annoyance as her eyes narrowed at your form.

"You-" you spat as you lunged for her, grabbing her by the collar of her pink frilly shirt. "You did this to yourself. You did this to me," you breathed. Her expression never wavered. Your eyes were so focused on hers that you failed to notice her rising palm, only realising once she had struck you across the cheek, hard. It stung and you were sure the sheer force of the blow had drawn blood.

"Silly girl, you know nothing. Sometimes the cause is greater than its victim," the woman chided.

"Cause? What cause?" you fumed. The woman simply raised her hand to your cheek, running her finger slowly down the smooth skin. Then you felt her apply more pressure, digging her nail into the skin, drawing a scream from you as you felt her nail pierce your skin as she dragged it down the length of your cheek.

"This," she spoke as she took her hand away from your cheek and admired the ruby substance that stained it. "This is what makes you so useful. I spent my whole life looking for this." Your eyebrows furrowed at her words.

"My healing?"

"Not so dim after all, are we?" the woman mocked. "This has the power to prolong life for, well, forever," she laughed.

"You did all this so you could be immortal?" you growled.

"Not just me," she chuckled. "The whole committee, that way we can outlive those elders who think they can dictate our lives."

"So you don't want just immortality, but also power," you pondered. The headmaster smiled at your words.

"You get it."

You grabbed the woman's shirt again, this time using it to throw her against the wall. The force of the impact caused the wall to crack beneath her weight and she fell to the ground. You could hear the cracking of bones when she stood again, rolling her shoulders back as she sneered in your direction. She pounced and you couldn't react in time. She sent you tumbling to the floor while she straddled you, clawing at your arms that attempted to protect your face. The attack seemed so familiar and though much less violent you couldn't help but think back to Chan and his training sessions. And so, like you had so many times before, you kicked your knee up, hitting the woman in the ribcage and you could have sworn you heard multiple bones cracking. The woman fell to your side and you pushed yourself up, towering over the woman who lay on the wooden floor.

"Enough," you roared, a bolt of lightning shooting through the roof of the hut and striking beside the head of the headmaster, debris falling from the large hole in the roof that it created in its path. You crouched down over the woman's quivering body, sending punch after punch in her direction. "I was trying to run," you cried. "Everything would have been okay if I had kept running." With another blow, you noticed that the woman below you was barely responsive, her face unrecognisable underneath the intense swelling and the gaping cuts that covered it.

"It wouldn't matter, you can't run from fate," she struggled to whisper. Rage and frustration consumed your body as you raised your fist again, ready to strike.

"Don't." His voice made you falter, you ripped your gaze from the headmaster beneath you to Minho, his eyes sympathetic. "You don't need to do this."

"Why?" you sobbed. "Look what she did to me, what she's going to do."

"I know," he exhaled, moving slightly closer to you, now only a couple of feet apart. "It's your decision Y/n. But I need you to think carefully about the choice you're about to make. And think about what I told you." You blinked at the man, tears rolling down your cheeks as you processed his words.

You looked at the woman. The woman who you had refused at first, happy with how your life was. Well, maybe not happy but the person you loved the most was safe. From you. That was what mattered most. But she forced you to come here, promised you that you wouldn't hurt anyone. But, all along she was using you. And as you sat over the bloody and beaten woman you realised that you were becoming the very thing you had been running from in the first place. Was that what she mean by not being able to run from fate? Was it true? You had been told so many things in the past few hours and your brain felt like a scrambled mess. 'I believe in you', Minho's words echo in your mind and you realised that this was it. People were asking you to make a choice for so long, wanting you to finally choose which side you fell on and this was the moment that choice had to be made. The whole point of being here was to run from the power you didn't understand. Now, you were beginning to understand that power. And maybe, bad wasn't the only thing that came from them. You weren't sure if it could be possible, maybe fate really is just a bitch but you wanted to at least try. You were dangerous, they were right, but you are also extremely powerful and you hoped that you could learn to be like the witch that had questioned what really was good and bad. You stood from the woman's body, dusting yourself off before walking to where Minho stood, he had a sweet smile on his face as he reached for your bloodied palm, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"We should probably clean this up," he chuckled as he looked at the destruction around you.

---

Hyunjin entered, an arm wrapped around an injured Yuqi. He guided her into the room where the rest of you stood. She had a slight limp and you would have thought she would be fine walking on her own but when you saw her looking up at the siren with a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks you thought better of mentioning it. Though you definitely would tease the fairy later.

"Everyone okay?" Minho asked, scanning over each person to check their state.

"Barely, I had to save Han Jisung's ass so many times I literally lost count," Jeongin remarked earning a gasp from the aforementioned man.

"I'll have you know that I could have handled them on my own you just acted too fast, I would call it a premature rescue," Jisung muttered, the group collectively laughed at the man and he let a small chuckle escape his lips in response.

"So, what should we do with them?" Chan motioned to the group of faculty members, each one donning one of those bracelets Seunmin had made and tied up back to back in a circle in the middle of the room.

"We need evidence," Jisung smiled gleefully as he swiftly took his phone from his pocket and opened the camera app, pressing record. He walked over to the group with a wide smile on his face that most would label as unsettling. "Who's been a bad teacher? You! You've been a bad teacher," he pouted as he shoved the phone in one of the teacher's faces. "Bad people, very bad people, I'll make sure you're on page one of all the newspapers for everyone to see," he laughed. "And you!" he said as he reached the headmaster. "You've been extra bad! Don't you know trying to murder students so you could harvest their essence to give yourself everlasting life is not allowed?" 

"Jisung, I think they get the point," Jeongin grumbled walking up to the man and ripping his phone from his grasp, stopping the recording and placing the phone back in the palm of the stunned man who looked at the young wolf like he had just murdered his dog. 

"Right, now let's go see the elders."

[oksana-moods]

Royals - Part 4

Summary: Too many feelings mixed with confusion force Wanda to take steps she will regret.

A/N: Okay, here we are. I know I was kinda mean for taking this long, but now I can present you something that I liked instead of that piece of crap I wrote before. Hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always appreciated.

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

Warnings: Angst, language, if there are any others, let me know.

“We’re bigger than we ever dreamed”

Monday morning arrived way too soon for Wanda’s taste. She had spent her whole weekend trying to figure out what all those feelings meant. She tried to understand what she felt for each sibling, and she was nowhere close to a satisfactory answer.

Despite being a jerk to almost everybody else, Jarvis was mostly kind to her and even though he’s used to her usually binding to his wishes, he treated her nice.

But then, there was you and that lopsided grin that always made her feel warm inside. There was that numbness whenever your skin touched hers which always made her stomach churn funnily. Truth be told, she was a mess and-.

“You got mail, honey.” Her mother’s soothing voice brought her out of her reverie, and she dropped her attention to the stash of mail in her hands. “One from Harvard and one from Berkeley.” She spoke proudly and Wanda smiled.

As if life wanted to play with her in every possible way, she had applied for a few colleges and those were the first replies so far. The ones that really mattered for her, actually. She’d love to go to NYU or others, but those two represented the edge of her heart.

As if mimicking her love life, if she could call it that way, her future was hanging between those two colleges. For Harvard was a glimpse away from MIT where Jarvis would study, and she knew this was the collage her parents wanted her to attend.

However, her heart always beat a little too fast for Berkeley and its possibilities, and she knew all too well that it was only few miles away from Stanford, college that you and Sam would be going to. But she knew her parents wouldn’t approve.

“So…” Her mother spoke expectantly after she read both letters, heart hammering in her chest. “I was accepted in Harvard!” She smiled, it wasn’t her first choice, but she wasn’t idiot, Harvard was renowned worldwide. Her mother hugged her tight and Wanda relished in that embrace, for she knew in a few months she wouldn’t have it at her will.

“And Berkeley?” Her mother inquired after releasing her hold, Wanda was visibly surprised by the question. She got what they wanted, and they wanted Harvard. “I was accepted too.” She spoke quietly and again, her mother enveloped her in a tight embrace.

“I am so proud of you, love.” Wanda closed her eyes and enjoyed every minute she had. “Well, this is it, then. Pietro chose UCLA. Which one will you attend?” Again, Wanda didn’t hide her surprise by her mother’s question. She never thought she had an option, or was this a test?

“I thought that you and Dad wanted me to go to Harvard.” She uttered after a moment trying and failing to make sense of her mother’s words.

“Harvard in one of the best schools in the country, plus we always thought you’d want to be near Jarvis.” She explained while taking a seat by Wanda’s side while she tenderly rested her hand on her daughter’s knee. “But this is your future, love. You’re the one who should and will decide.”

Her mother flashed her a smile and Wanda was sure she was gaping at the revelation. “We’re here to support and tell you that we love you and we’re going to miss you.” Wanda didn’t even know she was crying until her vision was blurred by the incoming tears and she embraced her mother one more time. “Thank you.” She whispered to her mother.

“Of course.” It was all that she replied, closing her arms tide against her daughter’s frame.

---

Wanda walked into the class slower than she used to, for she knew you’d be in your place already. As much as she wanted to delay this encounter, there was no turning back in time. A time where she was ignorant about her feelings or, as in Natasha’s words, oblivious. Oh how she wanted to remain like that.

She couldn’t help the small smile that made its way to her lips when she saw your head bowed, reading the book in front of you, but her heartbeat sped out of her control. She was having a little panic situation just like she had had when you confronted her about who she wanted to kiss when you were playing I-have-never.

When you asked, all her thoughts went blank, and she realized in fraction of seconds that she hadn’t the slightest clue as to how explain to you that she didn’t know why she drank from that cup on that round.

She stared at her cup, and she decided that the strange feeling in her stomach meant that she should be drinking, however, she didn’t know who she would like to kiss. So when you asked her who was the luck one, there wasn’t a boy’s name that sufficed. It was a girl’s name surfacing her mind. Yours. She knew that now. But then? She just panicked and spat the first name that she could think of that didn’t belong to you.

She strolled to her seat next to yours and sat quietly, her heart missed a few beats when your face lit up the second you realized that Wanda had arrived. “Morning, soccer star.” The smile you shot her was stunning and she wondered if you smiled like that to everybody else, or if she’d get the special one.

“Good morning, Wanda.” There was something entrancing about the way you tend to speak her name that always captivated her and, even though before she had never understood why, she’d always loved it. It was almost overwhelming how things seemed to click into place, now everything made sense.

Wanda’s smile turned sour the moment Agatha stepped into the class and made her blood boil when she winked and blew you a kiss. For Wanda’s sake, Professor Hill didn’t take long to start her class and hopefully it would fly fast, and she wouldn’t have to interact with you or anyone.

“Well, we’ve been reading The Handmaid’s Tale for two weeks now.” Professor Hill started, and all eyes were on her. “I know some of you probably watched the series, but I want this debate to happen solely over the book’s point of view. Got it?” She asked and few students even nodded, just like Wanda.

“Ms. Jones.” She addressed to the girl siting in the far corner of the room. “What was your general impression from the theme of the book?” The girl straightened herself and replied.

“What can I say?” Jones started. “It’s offensive. Everything about it is offensive. Their world, country, I don’t know, is facing extinction due birth rate almost inexistent and though this is sad, I don’t agree with their solution to the problem. Actually, I despise it.” She crossed her arms, clearly distraught by the subject, just like you were.

“You know it’s just a dystopic trope, right?” Wade Wilson smirk was ridiculous as always.

“And you know that, if you look at it with the right angle, this happens every day?” Jane’s spoke what half of the class was probably thinking.

“Please, Jane, where do I get a wife or a maid? ‘Cause I can’t wait to replicate the Ceremony.” If sarcasm wasn’t so evident in his words and face, he’d probably be kicked out of the class. If not by Jane herself, then by any other girl in the class.

“Could you elaborate, Ms. Foster?” Professor Hill guided the discussion towards a constructive line of thought.

She promptly did. To your opinion, Jane nailed the idea of the book, which is, by using some shocking facts, to bring to light how women were perceived and treated by society as a whole. Or how politics always create laws or decided the fate of women.

Satisfied with Jane’s and other colleague’s answer, Professor Hill turned to you and asked you to express your opinion about Serena Joy, the Commander’s wife. ‘Oh, great.’ You muttered to yourself, not in the mood to speak, to debate, to argue. Being by Wanda’s side took all the strength you had.

You shift uncomfortable on your chair and started to speak what was on your head. Serena was an intelligent woman and more than capable of thinking by herself, so, from your point of view, she was just a bitch asking for people to make sacrifices that she couldn’t.

Then Wanda disagreed with your opinion, the way she sees things, Serena was a woman focused on solving their society’s problem, who truly believed in the system she helped to create. Which you countered by saying that if Serena believed that concentrating power within few people, few men, was a good solution then she was a fool.

Now, to have different opinions from Wanda was never a problem and you liked to listen to her views. However, today was not a day to do such thing. There was this strange, almost awkward, air between the two of you and it was clear that she wasn’t her usual self.

The tenseness on the room was one breath away from being tangible and if Agatha felt it you didn’t know. But the second she agreed with you, taking your side, Wanda snapped and turned her face away from you. When you tried to ask if she was okay, Wanda stormed out of the room the second Professor Hill dismissed the class.

Wanda arrived at her locker on the verge of spitting fire. ‘Who does she think she is?’ Wanda wondered angrily and much to her dismay, she didn’t know why she was so upset about your argument. It was a simple class exchange about a book, and you had different point of views all the time.

Never had she felt so bothered by disagreeing with you, she always loved that there were a lot of things that your thoughts diverted, but today seemed different. And realization downed on her like a wave when she understood that her problem wasn’t the book at all.

Today you were agreeing with Agatha, your girl Agatha, as her friend made sure everybody on the class knew. You feigned shock when she announced to the whole class that you were dating, uh the nerve of you. Wanda was mad and she hated the influence you had over her.

The moment Agatha stopped on the locker by her side and turned to her, she didn’t even try to hide how bothered she was and hoped that her friend would get the hint and try not to force her patience anymore for the day.

Lucky wasn’t on her side because Agatha opened her mouth and spoke. “I used to wonder why you kept it a secret, Wanda.” Alarmed, she turned to look at the girl. ‘Is it possible that she knows I am jealous? Is it possible that she knows how I feel about-? Wanda’s mind was invaded with so many thoughts so fast that she missed the last of Agatha’s sentence.

“What?” She asked lowly, fearing to get caught by the gossipers.

“I said: not anymore.” Agatha repeated and amused by Wanda’s confused face, she clarified. “You never said anything about kissing Jarvis’ sister, and I always wondered your reasons, but after kissing her myself, well, those lips are heaven. I wouldn’t want Jarvis jealous about it either.”

Wanda gapped at Agatha’s assumption. The two of you were great friends but, even though she realized she wanted, she had never kissed you. Then, anger flared on her chest and felt jealous burning like a wildfire due Agatha’s opinion about your kiss, your lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re friends and I have a boyfriend.” Wanda hated that Agatha had the chance to do what she never could. However, she spoke as firmly as possible, as though to remind herself of her own place. Agatha was your girlfriend, not her.

Agatha cut her thoughts and lifting her cellphone to Wanda see what’s on the screen, she said simply. “Sure about that?”

Wanda’s eyes surveyed the video playing on the device. She took a full moment to realize what it was: a video of two girls kissing on the kissing booth, one of them was blindfolded and she recognized that hair, those clothes.

Wanda used her hand to cover her gapping mouth. ‘How could this be possible?’ She thought. Just like before, her mind ran thousands of thoughts per second, and she felt dizzy. You. You were the one she kissed that night and the taste of your lips… God! Wanda didn’t even know what to think right now. That kiss still plagued Wanda’s memory.

“How?” She managed after a while, after her mind calmed down, for her heart was still running miles per hour.

“‘How’ what, darling?” Agatha’s venom seeped through her words. “How I have a video from you kissing your sister-in-law or how you didn’t know?” She crossed her arms in front of Wanda and plastered a smirk on her lips.

Seeing that her friend was still lost after the revelation, Agatha answered herself. “Well, I had to tell your boyfriend what you were doing while he was at Steve’s playing video games that night. And how you didn’t know?” She shrugged. “I’m impressed, really, with all this people talking about you and her sudden friendship and all their conspiracy theory about you dating in secret…”

“What?” Wanda’s distress was visible through her tone. “We’re not dating.” She didn’t know why, but she felt an urge to explain. “We’re just friends.” She was dumbfounded by such revelation. She had been wondering who she had kissed, Pepper said she didn’t see who the person was, and Jarvis was livid the days following, not to mention how overjealous he became after that. Now everything made sense, but she didn’t know what to think or feel.

One thought hammered on her mind, though. ‘You never said anything about it.’ Her thoughts were sliced by Agatha’s voice once more.

“I know. But you don’t want that, do you?” Agatha used the tone she uses when she drops the latest gossip. Before Wanda could recover from her stupor, she saw Agatha’s face morphing into that sick smile and heard her speaking. “Turn the fans on because the hottest stuff just arrived.”

Wanda turned to see who she was talking about and clenched her jaw when she saw your figure approaching them. Much to Wanda’s consternation, Agatha leaned on you when you stopped by their lockers, clinging on your shoulders and landed a kiss on the corner of your mouth. At that she looked away, trying to take deep breaths, trying to swallow back her jealousy. It wasn’t her place.

You smiled at Agatha’s compliment in appreciation, but you were solely focused on the redhead girl in front of you. “Hm Wanda, can I talk to you for a second?” Your answer was a curt nod, but she walked to an empty classroom, trying to get some privacy and you followed her.

But you wish you hadn’t. She was fuming and the second her eyes landed on you, you regret the day you ever walked through the school’s doors. If possible, you saw red flashing on her green orbs and you winced in advance. She was upset, that much you knew, but what have you done? You barely talked after her party, and you doubted it was due your different ideas on class.

“You never bothered in tell me we kissed. Why?” Her voice was cold, and you were taken aback, especially because you didn’t even know what she was talking about.

“Kiss?” You asked dumbly, to what she narrowed her eyes and you felt yourself internally shrinking under such intensity.

“Don’t play smart ass now.” She hissed and took one step closer. “The kissing booth.” She completed and her tone portrayed her disgust, and your eyes widened when it clicked in your head what she was talking about.

“I thought you knew.” Your voice was low, the way she referred to your kiss with such repulse hurt more than a stab in the guts.

“And?” She snorted in disbelief, putting her hands on her hips. If this was any other situation, you’d find her adorable, but right now she was speaking as if accusing you of something and you couldn’t let your feelings for her to cloud your thoughts right now.

“And what, Wanda?” You crossed your arms, brows furrowed as if this was a puzzle you couldn’t solve. Certainly, it felt like one.

“All this time, you were talking to me, befriending me but never told me what happened. You kissed me and you kept this from me. Never mind telling me that you dated Nebula. Honestly, I don’t know who you are anymore.”

‘I don’t know who you are anymore.’ You started to feel anger boiling in your stomach. You hated that she spoke as if you had used her, even though she went to that booth willingly, even though you were just a random person attending the booth where she volunteered to kiss a stranger. It could’ve been anyone, but you were the one with luck, or bad luck as it seems.

It stung more than it should that she reacted like that. You were in love with her, but that was your problem to deal, now, she could be a little more understanding, or little bitchless.

“What do you think was going to happen when you climbed that booth, Wanda?” You asked her, tamper showing but you didn’t care. If she thought she could speak with you the way she wanted, she was wrong. “I’m sorry I bought a ticket to kiss a girl and you were the one who showed up. You should’ve thought about it before, don’t you think?”

Something else flashed in Wanda’s eyes, but you couldn’t decipher what it was. To be honest, you were so mad at her that you didn’t care. “I never dated Nebula and what’s the deal, huh?” You let your arms to fall on your sides and took one step towards her, not really thinking about what you were doing.

“If I dated her or not, what’s the matter? And, if we kissed, what’s the matter, Wanda?” You locked eyes with her. “It meant nothing.” Your last words were a blatant lie. The feel of Wanda’s lips on yours still haunted you before sleep, but that was something that you kept to yourself. If a simple kiss created such a fuss, imagine if she learned about your feelings?

“Of course it meant nothing.” She spat and you took a deep breath, for that sentence felt like a punch on your face. Her words cut you like a knife, and she was using you to sharpen it. “Why are you being such a jerk?” She asked, anger oozing in her eyes and words.

“Me?” You breathed out and pointed to yourself as if to emphasize. “You’re acting like a bitch because of a stupid kiss.” You spat back at her. Suddenly, all the pain of loving her in secret and the hurt she was causing you right now was a bit too much and you were having problem in keep it in check.

It wasn’t her fault that you loved her, but she didn’t have to act like that because you kissed. And why was she being such an ass, when-

“Excuse me?” She replied angrily once more. “You’re the one keeping things from me and now you’re lying, and I am the bitch?” Her hair moved in sync with her head bobbing with the way she spoke and Gods, how could she be so damn beautiful that mad?

You shook your head, trying hard to keep focus. You were upset with her, why couldn’t you stop loving her even for a second? “Lying? What the hell are you talking about?” Her expression was so dark, so dangerous that you felt the need to cross your arms again, as if this could protect your heart from the menace dancing in her eyes.

“Nebula told me she dated you and you didn’t even bother in feed me the latest news about you dating Agatha. I thought we were friends, but now you just showed up with a new girlfriend.” There was something burning inside Wanda, and she sworn she wanted to stop this fight.

She wanted to touch your face and make you unfrown your brows, but she couldn’t. Her jealousy felt like a venom trying to suffocate her, unless she spat everything hurting in her.

“How could I?” You used your fingers to try and easy the headache assaulting your brain already. “You went radio silence for the whole weekend, Wanda. I kinda couldn’t tell you that I hooked up with your friend on your party, but she’s not my girlfriend.”

Your voice was flat, but still too high for your liking since the start of the discussion, and you were already too tired to keep fighting. “And I already told you, If I ever exchanged two words with this Nebula that’s a lot. Why don’t you believe me?”

The redhead opened her mouth to speak and, for a whole second, it looked like she wasn’t going to say anything else, but she did. Her next words flew out of her lips in a form of blow. “Because I don’t trust you.” It hit you hard and this time, you couldn’t hide your pain. Despite your feelings for Wanda, you thought you were friends, but this broke your heart to the point there wasn’t fight in you anymore.

“Ouch.” You spoke sincerely with a grimace. “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong with you today. But if you need a bad guy, then I’ll be the bad guy so you can blame it on me, Wanda.” Again, your tone was even, but there was no hiding the pain in your eyes, and you knew, you just didn’t care.

The idea of dating her was so far fetch that you couldn’t even fathom, but you developed a nice friendship, or so you thought it did. You were too tired and too bruised to keep this argument. “Want to hate me because whatever? Go ahead, be like everybody else. Agatha said you had moods; guess I’m seeing it now.”

Wanda was about to apologize, but the mere mention of Agatha’s name lit up that sick flame of jealousy. So, she took one step forward and inches away from your face, she had trouble in thinking clearly, but the words that scaped her lips went on their own accord.

“Why don’t you go back to your girlfriend, huh? She’s awesome and perfect. Leave me alone.” Her cold eyes fixed you in place, then came the final blow. “You know what? You’re so full of yourself, so full of shit. Now I understand what Jarvis always said about you and he was right.”

Now, this strike poked a throbbing wound in you. It hit you harder seeing her lips curled downwards making it clear to you how upset, how bothered she was, and you knew that she meant what she said.

You were taken aback, blinking at the jab in form of words and the meaning it carried. He was right. This sentence rang in your ear like an echo from a faraway world where there’s no air. You tried, you tried really hard to keep yourself together at least in front of her, but your façade wasn’t that strong, not around her.

“Perhaps you are not who I thought you were either.” A sole, single tear managed to fall against your will and your voice was heavy, dripping hurt. But if Wanda saw anything else past her anger, it was unknown, for you turned your back to her immediately and walked to the lockers room.

With a bit of luck, you’d be alone while everybody else was on the class and you could try to process what had just happened. Maybe you could start by grabbing your feelings from the floor along with the pieces of your heart.

Wanda tried to call you, but to no avail. She saw your retreating form while she held onto her books as if to keep herself sane. She glanced at you one more time before you disappeared on the corner and her heart tightened, there was so much agony in your eyes, so much hurt and she hated herself, because she knew she was the sole cause of it.

For the entirety of your friendship, Wanda always admired your sense of humor and how you dealt with the bad things life had throwed your way, even more so, she admired your heart and how it confided in her your aspirations and your fears.

And she used it. She didn’t mean it, but she did. The second she said she agreed with Jarvis idiotic opinion, she regrated, for she knew that one of your biggest fears was to, one day, find out that Jarvis was right the whole time.

That you were nothing but a lost child who no one wanted, a kid who grew up without understand what was wrong with her and a young woman who didn’t know her own place. Oh if Wanda could only go back in time and take back those hateful words, their odious meaning, she would.

She doesn’t agree with Jarvis, quite the contrary. But she was so, so mad at you for dating Agatha. She was so mad at herself for being blind this whole time and she was so mad at her heart for falling in love with you.

taglist: @raqelacevedo; @olsensnpm; @iamnobodywhataboutu; @androgynouscloudenemy

A/N: liked it so far? Check Part 5!

[yelenasdog]

talk to me? (spencer reid x fem reader)

genre: fluff 

summary: cold nights and warm coffee can be so compelling.

words: 2.2k 

warnings: mentions of having intrusive thoughts and spence being insecure, reader and spencer sleeping in the same bed. that’s all i can think of, lmk if there’s anything else!

a/n: yo! so uhhh i kinda love the start of this and dislike the end of it, but idk i think it’s still pretty snazzy!! also SPENCER IN GLASSES HAS MY HEART ok bye enjoy!!

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It was the type of cold where no matter how brightly the sun was shining, you could still feel the fresh molecules of coolness linger on your skin, hiding under the tip of your nose. It made horribly irritable little dry patches that would have to be remedied with some form of lotion, but that wouldn’t quite return back to complete normal until the end of the winter time.

But despite this, Y/n and Spencer were out and about, doing their jobs in total normalcy.

Minus being stationed in France, that is.

Although it was rare that the BAU was called overseas, Emily had needed the team’s help, and who would they be to decline a trip to the beautiful France, no less to see Prentiss as well.

So after a grueling day of blood and bad-guys, the pair made their way back to their Parisian hotel room, walking (quite wobbily, Y/n would add) along the cobblestone walkways, both of their boots clicking loudly against the rain coated stones.

It was ironic, as Spencer had attempted to wear his converse, but was denied by a worried Y/n, hearing her say “You’re going to get those things soaked, and you’ll freeze your toes right off, Dr. Reid!”

And as not to disappoint the girl, never wanting to see her mood turn as gloomy as the French sky, he complied begrudgingly. Though Y/n could swear she always saw a hint of a smile at her telling off.

Spencer was also advised by her to wear his contacts, to avoid the fogging up of his readers, but he refused, not wanting to bother with said contacts. He grew to regret that as he walked, every so often and reaching a large hand up to wipe his glasses, almost like the wind shield wipers of the bug that had been driving them around.

He chuckled at the not so distant away memories, thankful for the girl and her requests, as it turned out.

The hotel was far different from the usual dingy motels the team usually occupied when traveling, that was for certain. This one happened to be a master suite with ivory walls and silky sheets, quite opposite from the thin and scratchy yellowed covers they usually made do with.

And even though It was early in the day, the mixture of odd sleep schedules and just the heavy weight of sleepiness pressing down heavily on their shoulders, they opted to go to bed at the oh-so late time of 1:37 PM.

Daredevils, those two are.

Ignoring the first bed by the door, Spencer made a beeline for the plush queen size mattress he knew Y/n and himself would be sharing in an effort to cuddle up for warmth, sinking down into it. (After removing his shoes, of course.)

He was originally donned in just a grey Caltech shirt and some blue pajama pants, but due to the chillier weather (that he couldn’t quite seem to shake despite the thermostat in the hotel room being turned up to 76) he layered on a maroon MIT hoodie, one that he was aware Y/n would try to thieve from him, perhaps even sneaking it back in her own suitcase.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom in pale green shorts and a large and worn Led Zeppelin shirt, earning a very confused stare from Spencer. She simply shook her head and continued on her way over to the large window that was currently projected bright streams of melted gold through the glass, that would have been heated if it wasn’t for that damn cold.

“I get warm when I sleep, it bothers me.”

He nodded, watching intently as she opened and shut the blinds a few times, soft krrrrs and clicks sounding through the room as she did.

“You doing alright?” He asked, his eyeline never faltering. She turned and he picked up his copy of “A Farewell To Arms,” something she had been the one to reccomend to him, ranting on and on about Ernest Hemingway and his precious 6 toed cats. 

It was one of Spencer’s more realistic goals in life to take Y/n back to Key West to visit the Hemingway House, after her having said a childhood trip there was one of her happiest memories.

He quickly flipped to a random page, not wanting her to catch him being what he considered to be creepy, even though Y/n thought it was quite adorable.

She bit back a giggle and a smile, settling on leaving the window half open half closed. She padded over to where Spencer was, laying back onto what she imagined a cloud would feel like.

She reached over, taking the blue colored book from his hands and his thickly rimmed glasses off from where they were resting on his perfect button nose. 

She smiled to herself fondly at the items in her hands, particularly at the novel. She placed them on her bedside table (why hers and not his, Reid wasn’t too sure, but also was not going to complain), and then moved to slide between the slick tightly-tucked sheets.

“Our options were A, not be able to sleep because of Mr. Sun being out right now, or you freezing to death because Mr. Sun was blocked totally by the curtains.”

He looked over at where she had been messing around with the heavy drapes.

“I see you went in between.”

She smiled graciously, which Spencer returned immediately.

“That I did.”

A few more awkward moments of silence (not including the occasional yelling and honking from those riding on motorbikes below) passed, before she finally settled into the sheets.

She turned to the side table to her left and tugged on the chain of the old timey lamp. The room went quiet, but the pair’s minds were anything but.

Y/n’s head was swimming in intrusive thoughts, while Spencer’s was a hazy cloud of self deprecations and his own voice keeping him awake, staring at the painted ceiling.

“Spence?”

“Mmhm?”

“Can you talk to me?”

Spencer’s brows furrowed. He shifted around in the creme sheets of the bed, finding a cold spot quite quickly.

“What do you want me to say?”

Silence.

“Anything.”

She turned over to now be facing the lanky boy, their noses nearly touching. She held her breath, sucking in a bottom lip.

He looked to her eyes, to her lips, and back to her eyes again, quickly gathering a list of things to ramble about.

“Well,” he began, “Paris was originally founded in the 3rd century BC, and was a Roman city called Lutetia, and to prove it, there’s even remains of Roman ruins in the capital. And speaking of monuments, in total, there are 1,803 of them, and 173 museums in Paris alone- Y/n?”

To his surprise, Y/n’’s idea had worked. Spencer looked over to see a sleeping Y/n, a peaceful expression resting upon her features.

He smiled at the idea that he had played some role in that, closing his own eyes. The cloud that was previously keeping him from long awaited slumber was now a light film, nagging at the back of his head quietly. 

He simply told the voice to quiet down and was then able to lull himself to sleep, Y/n’s presence calming him to no end.

It wasn’t until 8 hours later that they had woken up, first Spencer, followed by Y/n. She peeked open her eyes, pleasantly surprised by the lack of light shining through the curtains. 

She wiggled around, stretching from her neck down to her toes. Spencer smiled at this, finding her resemblance to a cat who had been sunnapping, quite endearing.

She moved to her side, placing a hand under her chin to get a better look at the Doctor who was nearly finished reading her copy of “A Farewell to Arms”.

“Did you at least mark my spot?” She asked, voice raspy from sleep.

He scoffed, flipping to and then showing her the bookmarked page of the story.

“What do you think I am, a monster?”

She chuckled, sitting up next to Spencer.

“I mean, I don’t know, sometimes it seems like it”.

He rolled his eyes, setting down the read and hopping out of bed.

“What are you doing, Spence?” She asked, not amused in the slightest by the idea of having to get out of bed.

“We are going to get coffee.”

She shook her head of messy hair, the wispy bits flowing around her like a halo in the hotel room lighting.

“You can go get us coffee and bring it right back over here, alright? Thanks, you’re a doll.”

He did that thin lipped smile that seems to be his equivalent of a smirk, grabbing a hoodie from the inside of his suitcase that was perched on top of a dresser.

“Come on, we’re going on an adventure. Use this and the idea of coffee as an incentive.”

He tossed her the hoodie, the jacket landing by her feet with an audible plop.

She loudly groaned, shrugging it on and pulling herself out of bed. She also managed to tug on some jeans and an overcoat, as well as her boots, shaking her head at Spencer’s lack of preparation for the cold temperatures, as always. 

“Spencer, I am not about to go to this and have you complain about being cold the whole time, put on your coat, please.” She gestured to where it was hanging in the closet with her hand still concealed by her trench coat’s pocket, her eyes shutting and her head lolling to the side.

“If you insist.”

“Yes I do, put it on, lets go.” She said drawing out the “o”.

Spencer’s eyes widened and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “My apologies, good morning to you too.”

She only rolled her eyes and smiled, opening the door to the room and leading the way.

By the time she had found a coffee shop on Yelp that she had deemed satisfactory, (which was extremely difficult due to the language barrier) the time had passed even later, and the temperature was even lower.

The lights on the streets sparkled, reflecting in the puddles of the water that lined the asphalt. Y/n was quite enchanted by the little light shows, slowing the journey to the shop significantly. Spencer didn’t mind, though, he enjoyed every second he got to spend with her to the absolute fullest, and found her fascination with every part of life inspiring.

When they finally reached the quaint little coffee shop, they walked inside, finding refuge in the warmth of the establishment.

Spencer ordered for them, and Y/n found a table (as that’s what they always did, taking turns between ordering and scouting a place to sit).

She located a cozy little corner by a window, a perfect place to observe those who bustled about at night, watching them and coming up with back stories, whatever they may be.

She enjoyed doing that, it made her believe she had a better understanding of the world around her, why those she works on catching every day behave in the manner they do.

And what better place to do so than Paris?

So she flagged Reid (who now was in possession of the two drinks) over, taking hers from his hand. 

“Latte with two creams and 4 sugars for the lady.”

She smiled graciously, allowing the heat of the cup to spread through her system.

“And what did you get? Let me guess, a shot of espresso with 12 sugars?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, not wanting to admit she was more correct than he had hoped.

“Ha ha, very funny, Y/n.”

She smiled over her small mug, quirking a brow.

“Oh, I know.”

He shook his head and glanced out the window with a low chuckle, watching as people from all walks of life went about their business, some with dogs, some with children, some of them even walking along with a cup of coffee in their hands, similarly to Spencer and Y/n. Some of them, in fact, had all three.

As the two sat observing, sipping away at their respective concoctions, Y/n spoke up, her voice soft, although considering they were the only two in the shop, it didn’t need to be.

“Spence?”

“Hmm?”

Only then did she tear her glance away from those on the street, her full focus now on Reid. She admired his bone structure, in awe over the way the soft light reflected off his strong jaw and high cheeks. At that moment, he looked like he belonged in the Louvre.

“Thank you.”

“What for?” He finally looked towards her, his hand never moving from where it was positioned under his chin.

She simply shrugged, wrapping her coat tighter around herself.

He darted his eyes to the table and then her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Well, you’re welcome, I guess.”

She smiled and nodded at once, satisfied with his response.

While she looked out the window once more, she began to wonder about those around her. If they felt the same strong emotions that she did, if they held the same hope and desire for the future that she did.

And as she took another sip from her drink, closing her eyes and slowly was drifting off with the sounds of the city, she could only hope that they did.

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i hope u enjoyed that bc i feel like the imagery in the first paragraph was immaculate 😁 also! i ask that in the reblogs no cussing (and on my blog now in general) is used for personal reasons :) kk luv u bye bb! go take an electronics break and drink some water+ eat some protien (cashews, cheese, whatever ur feeling!)

xx hj 

[lemonpeter]

All For Him (Perfection)

“A cute prompt where Peter wants to go to prom really badly but MJ dumped him recently and Ned is going with Betty so he feels like he can’t go. And flash makes fun of him for being a loser with no date to the prom. So Tony offers to take Peter just to fuck withFlash and they end up being the center of attention obviously and they’re having fun and suddenly they both have an ‘oh’ moment and realize they’re in love and they kiss snd it’s very sweet.”

My prompt fill for @starkerfestivals Fall event 💕 I’m actually really happy with this piece and I hope everyone else enjoys it as much as I do!

Warnings: brief alcohol mention, brief mention of after prom expectations, Peter is 18 (it’s mentioned mid-fic), it’s 99% just fluff I promise

————

Ah, prom season.

Tony couldn’t say that he really remembered his own, if he even went. He had been...what, fifteen? The only thing on his mind at that point had been finishing high school and getting to MIT. Everything he did to piss off his dad came later.

So he probably hadn’t gone. But he was sure that things were different now, anyways.

Elaborate promposals, themed dances, after-parties that rivaled his college days.

Anyways. He hadn’t thought about school formals in- god, decades, probably. Like most people with some sort of life aspirations, he hadn’t thought about it since leaving high school. But it hadn’t even mattered to him then.

But it mattered to Peter, still in school.

Freshly heartbroken, sweet, perfect Peter.

Tony couldn’t believe that anyone would break up with someone like Peter. He was the type of person that people fought over, not someone that got broken up with.

But he had been broken up with all the same. He tried not to act like it bothered him, but he wasn’t good at hiding things like that.

Tony saw the way that his fingers twitched when he grabbed his phone, wanting to text something to MJ. He noticed how Peter’s gaze lingered on a window display of suits advertising ‘It’s Almost Time’. And he saw the tears that filled Peter’s eyes when they witnessed a - incredibly cheesy, unnecessarily extravagant - promposal outside of someone’s building.

And he knew that he would have to do something about that.

———

“Mr. Stark, I can’t,” Peter told him, sighing heavily. “I just can’t. I would look so stupid if I went alone. And it’s too late to ask anyone, everyone already has their dates.”

Not that anyone would want to go with him anyways.

“What about your friend? You know, Fred,” Tony teased, like he didn’t know his name. It was an ongoing joke, so Peter knew he actually did know.

Peter sighed again, resting his forehead against the table. “He’s going with his girlfriend. Betty. I’m pretty sure I already told you this.”

“Right, right. You couldn’t just tag along with them?”

Peter’s head shot up and he made a face. “I am not about to be a third wheel. That’s so embarrassing. And lame. I don’t need extra reasons to be made fun of.”

“Extra?” The older man frowned as he watched him. “Don’t tell me that’s still going on.”

“It’s been a thing since I was in sixth grade, Mr. Stark. It’s not going to stop until graduation, apparently.” Just a few more months away. Thank god.

Tony hummed softly, tapping a finger to his chin. “Well...I mean, that’s not gonna work. You want to go. So you’re going to go. But-“

“I can’t go alone!”

“I was getting to that,” Tony chided. “Don’t interrupt me. If you can’t go alone. But none of your peers are still available. Or up to standards,” he joked lightly. Then he paused for dramatic effect before finishing his thought. “I could just go with you, Peter.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment after that, just taking the words in.

Tony felt that it had been innocent. Just an offer so that the kid would feel okay going to his dance.

But from the way Peter instantly blushed and glanced away, he wasn’t so sure it was received that way.

“What? Would you be embarrassed by me?”

Peter shook his head quickly, eyes wide. “What? No! I just...can’t imagine that you’d want to go. To a high school prom. With...me.”

Tony watched him, eyebrow raised as he listened. “I can’t say that it’s really my scene, but if I’d go with anyone I’d want it to be you. But I’m just going this so you can go and not feel weird, right? And maybe you can show that asshole Flash up.”

The young man was silent for just a moment, obviously thinking it all through.

Tony loved how he could practically see all the thoughts and outcomes swirling in Peter’s head.

Then he nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. You can go with me.” He smiled a bit. “We’ll need to buy you a ticket. And make sure you don’t do anything weird,” he joked lightly with him.

The older man scoffed. “Me? Weird? Oh, quit. We can either be the center of attention or we can blend in with the crowd. I can go with the flow. Whatever you want. I’m not weird...”

Peter laughed, genuine and relaxed. Definitely feeling better.

Tony was just glad that he could help. And if he got to make the kid laugh and smile at him like that? He would have done it again a million times. “So it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal,” he agreed, nodding. “We’ll work out plans later. I’ll...text you?” He asked it as a question because he didn’t want to overstep.

Tony waved a hand. “You text me about everything else, of course you can message me about this. No biggie.”

Nodding, Peter smiled to himself. “Okay. Okay. I’ll gather all the details so we can both be completely prepared.” A pause. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. This...really means a lot to me.”

“No need to thank me. Because I just want you to be happy.”

A smile from Peter. “You’re the best.” He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. I’ll text you!”

“Okay, kid.” Tony watched him leave the garage, smiling to himself. He knew that he was way more excited than he should have been.

But Peter just made him like that. He didn’t want to read too much into it. No use thinking into what he didn’t want to discover about himself.

———

He hadn’t heard from Peter for a couple of days and he was a bit worried that he finally scared the man off.

Until he got a large number of sudden texts.

‘Hi Mr. S’

‘*Stark’

‘I got the prices for tickets. It’s kinda a lot so I understand if you don’t want to go’

It was cute, Peter really seemed worried that the tickets would be too expensive for him. But he figured that the younger man just stuck in the mindset that money was always tight.

‘They’re $60 each’

‘I can cover mine, don’t worry’

‘And I still need to rent a suit since the one I have is old’

‘And depressing’

‘But I’m sure you have a suit! So you don’t need to worry about that’

‘Unless you wanna wear a dress. I wouldn’t judge’

Tony chuckled at that. That was always an option, but he figured he would go more traditional if Peter wanted to blend in.

‘But yeah. Just wanted to get back to you about that. Since it’s next week we probably need to make final plans and all’

Smiling to himself, Tony started typing a message back.

‘Ticket prices won’t be a problem, I’ll drop by your school and pick one up later today. And I can handle getting you a suit, no need to rent one that god knows how many other people have worn.’

He watched the dots that signaled Peter was typing. Then they disappeared and he was a bit worried that he overstepped some sort of unspoken boundary.

Then he got a phone call instead, Peter’s adorably awkward contact picture filling his screen.

Of course he answered instantly, putting the phone to his ear. “Yes? I thought your generation hated phone calls, why am I getting one?”

A giggle from the other side. Tony grinned at that, ignoring how his heartbeat sped up ever so slightly at the sound. It meant nothing. He probably had heart issues and should get that checked out.

“Because it’s easier to call and talk things out than to text it all,” Peter told him helpfully.

He was looking through his closet, glaring slightly at the one suit he owned. He didn’t like it, for obvious reasons.

It was his funeral suit. It was also the suit he wore to homecoming his sophomore year. Not good memories. But he knew that suits were expensive and Mr. Stark liked going overboard.

“Were you serious about getting me a suit? Because really- I can just rent one. It’ll be okay. It’s one night.”

Tony made an offended noise. “Absolutely not. I’m getting you one. No date of mine will be showing up in some overpriced, used-“

“Date of yours? It’s my school dance, Mr. Stark,” Peter said flatly. But he was obviously smiling on the other side of the call.

“So? You’ll be with me, you’ll be fitted in the finest thing possible. Come by the tower tomorrow and I’ll have someone here to fit you for a suit. Custom. It’ll be perfect.”

Peter sputtered out a weak argument, but no real words really formed. “No- I can’t- you-“

“Absolutely no arguing with me. This night is going to be perfect for you. In every way.”

A moment of silence and Tony could only imagine the pretty pink blush that was on Peter’s cheeks. No, not pretty. Just-

Yeah, pretty. Sue him.

He was thankfully torn out of his thoughts when Peter cleared his throat before speaking again. It almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

It definitely wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. This...it means a lot to me. That you want to do this with me. And that you’re willing to make it....”

“Perfect,” Tony finished when he trailed off. “Come on, I know this is important to you. Of course I’ll do everything I can to make it good.” He smiled to himself, ignoring the fuzzy warm feeling in his stomach. Damn heartburn. (Right, that’s what it was.) “Thank you for calling. I’ll pick up tickets later, then schedule a tailor to come by tomorrow to fit your suit. Sound good?”

Yeah, that was definitely a choked sob he heard. “Sounds good,” whispered Peter before abruptly hanging up.

Weird kid.

———

Everything had gone smoothly. Tony got their tickets and immediately handed them off to Pepper so they wouldn’t get lost, Peter was fitted for his suit and it was made perfectly, a beautiful bouquet of flowers was purchased, Tony made reservations for dinner, and he had a backup travel plan if Pepper convinced Peter that going in the iron man suit was a bad idea.

And then the night finally arrived.

Peter was nervous. And excited. Mostly excited with a little dash of nervousness.

He couldn’t help it. He was finally going to go to prom, the event hyped up from the time he was in elementary school. Seen in every teen movie, show, anything. Prom was obviously important. And he was definitely one for following important life milestones.

Even if they didn’t quite go as planned.

For one, he had been dumped by his girlfriend just before he was going to ask her to go with him. So that sucked. Then he waited and found no one else to go with. Until Mr. Stark stepped in. Which was an adventure on its own.

God, he was on an emotional roller coaster, up and down and upside down and-

Actually, the roller coaster was a pretty good analogy for what he was feeling. He had a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach, but he knew he was excited and couldn’t wait for what came next.

If only he knew what it meant.

He vaguely heard May open the door and he sucked in a sharp breath, doing a quick last check in the mirror.

He thought he looked good, not to brag. The suit was way more expensive than he even cared to know, but he thought it looked amazing. Sexy, even. The awkward, ugly prom suit stereotype was something he was glad to avoid.

His hair was in its natural curls, hanging loose and slightly messy but in what May assured him was ‘a cute way.’

Maybe it was simple. But it made him extremely happy.

So with that, he made his way out to the living room, unable to help the grin stuck to his face.

May covered her mouth with one hand, the other over her heart. “Oh-“ she walked to him, quickly pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You look so good. Handsome boy.” She smiled at him, gently brushing back his hair.

Peter blushed, laughing softly. “Thanks, May.” He glanced over her shoulder, cheeks flushing even darker when he saw Tony.

The man looked great.

Not that he didn’t always.

He looked like he was going somewhere way nicer than a high school prom. He looked so dapper, perfectly put together.

Peter couldn’t believe that the man had actually put all that effort in for him. To make him happy.

Mr. Stark really must have cared about him.

Then he noticed the huge bouquet of red and white roses that the man was holding. He had no idea how he had missed it in the first place.

He slowly stepped out from May’s touch, shaking his head to make her stop playing with his curls.

She made a sound of protest, but crossed her arms and moved to stand to the side.

Tony smiled fondly at Peter, expression conveying more love than was probably appropriate. Not that he would admit to it. He held out the roses, handing them over to Peter.

“I thought you’d like these,” he murmured, biting back a grin. “And it felt like an appropriate gift, given the circumstances.”

Peter nodded weakly, seeming in awe. He really couldn’t believe any of it was happening to him. It really was looking like the perfect night. He smelled the roses, smiling to himself. “They’re...amazing. Thank you.”

May took them from him, chuckling. “I’m gonna need two or three vases to fit all these....” she sighed, smiling. “But before I do that- ground rules. You.” She pointed at Tony. “I expect him home some time tonight. I say by...three. Not that you two will be attending any sort of party afterwards, that’s still the curfew.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. There wasn’t a point, it wasn’t like they’d be going anywhere after the dance. It wasn’t like they were an actual couple. They were going as friends. Friends didn’t have the same sort of after-prom expectations.

“Okay,” Tony agreed. “I’ll have him home by then, no worries.”

“Good. Next, if you do anything that embarrasses him or gives him a bad reputation these last couple months, I will hunt you down and kill you myself,” she threatened.

Tony snorted to himself, but nodded. “Of course. I’m just following his lead, he’s in charge here.” He winked at Peter quickly.

Peter shivered at that. He wasn’t quite sure what the older man meant with the action. He was in change for the night? Did he just mean because it was his prom or was there some other meaning he wasn’t aware of?

He couldn’t decide. So he just laughed a little and nodded.

“Right. That brings me to my final point,” May told them (but mostly Tony.) “Remember your relationship. He’s eighteen, Stark. Don’t do anything foolish in public that will bring bad press around either of you.”

Tony nodded instantly, but he felt like he was lying to her. He didn’t like that at all. “Of course. I wouldn’t even dream of making him look bad. And Pep has dealt with enough bad press from me, I don’t want to make things tougher on her.” As though the situation didn’t already look odd. “You don’t need to worry. Everything is going to be smooth, I won’t fuck anything up.”

May huffed. “You always seem to fuck something up. So your word doesn’t mean much. But you’d better keep to that. I don’t want to wake up to tabloids with the front picture being you groping my barely-legal nephew.”

“No problem, ma’am. Things won’t go south. Have some faith in me.”

“No.”

Tony huffed a laugh. “Okay. Fine.” He watched Peter, shooting him a sly smile. “Ready to go?”

The young man nodded, beaming. He went to Tony’s side, biting his lip as the man held his arm out. So he gently held onto his arm. “Bye, May. We’ll be- well, I’ll be back later. Love you!”

The woman laughed softly. “Have fun, Peter. But not too much fun, okay? And try not to just watch MJ all night.”

Oh, that wouldn’t be a problem. Peter already knew that if he was going with Mr. Stark, he wouldn’t have to worry about pining after MJ. Even if he didn’t want to think too much into why that was.

“I won’t, don’t worry. Love you, byyyyyye!” He called, trailing the last word as he left the apartment with Tony and closed the door behind them.

And with that, their night began.

———

Dinner was just incredible. Fancier than anything Peter had ever been to, for sure. But being with Mr. Stark somehow made it feel casual.

They left the restaurant and got back into Tony’s car - Peter had vetoed just being carried while Tony flew in the iron man suit.

Being in the fancy car, going to a school dance, was a bit too reminiscent of Homecoming and wrecking Flash’s car on the way to the Vulture’s lair. At least he wasn’t driving. And he was determined that he’d actually be staying at this dance.

Tony seemed to notice how he spaced out and hummed, gently setting one hand on his leg with the other still on the wheel.

Peter’s head jerked up at the action, eyes wide. “Huh?”

The hand was pulled away and Tony smiled weakly. “Sorry. Didn’t really think that one through. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He cleared his throat. “Having second thoughts?”

“What? No. No second thoughts. Thinking about....” he winced, shaking his head. “Just- really glad this time there’s no chance of my date’s dad trying to kill me.”

The older man laughed at that, a bit taken by surprise. But he was glad that Peter wasn’t having second thoughts. “Yeah, absolutely no chance for that. Don’t worry.”

They rode in relative silence after that, listening to whatever Tony had playing through the speakers. Some band that Peter probably knew the name of but would purposely get it wrong anyways.

Then they arrived at the venue. Tony parked the car, raising an eyebrow when he saw the ride next to them.

Peter easily identified it as Flash’s and had to keep Tony from ‘accidentally’ denting the door when he opened his own. That wouldn’t be okay, bully or not.

So Tony refrained from causing any harm to the vehicle, going to the passenger’s side and opening the door for Peter. He then held his arm out, smiling fondly at the young man.

The night was theirs.

Peter knew that Tony would have followed his wishes to stay under the radar and blend in, but sometimes it wasn’t up to them.

They were seen as soon as they stepped into the doors, whispers erupting throughout the room.

“There is no way,” someone nearby hissed.

Peter wished that his super hearing would calm down. He didn’t want to hear everyone’s disbelief at who he was there with. But he couldn’t really control that.

Then he heard the voice he absolutely dreaded. “Hey, Penis Parker!” Called Flash.

Peter couldn’t see him, but he even sounded smug. “What do you want?” He asked tiredly.

Flash materialized, leaning his elbow on Peter’s shoulder.

The other man tried to pull back, wrinkling his nose at the alcoholic smell coming off of Flash. The night had barely begun, that was fast.

“So,” he addressed Tony. “Is this like a charity thing? Taking a poor loser to his prom? Because-“

“Excuse me?” Tony sounded genuinely offended. On Peter’s behalf? Huh. “It’s not any sort of ‘thing’ other than taking my friend and colleague to an event. Because some people, like Peter here, can actually win their dates over with incredible personality.”

Flash started sputtering an apology, moving away from Peter. “Look- I didn’t- I- it was just a joke! Me and him are friends, we can joke like that!”

Peter gave him a look, lips pressed together. “I...no. Bye, Flash. Stay mad,” he commented, grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him away.

Tony just wrapped a gentle arm around him, leaning in close as they walked away. “Cmon, ignore everyone else. We’re here to have some fun, right? Let’s dance.” He grinned, pulling Peter out onto the floor.

Everyone already knew that they were there. Why try to hide? They were going to have fun and everyone was going to know it.

Tony grabbed Peter’s hands, doing an odd little dance with him to whatever the song was. He couldn’t recognize it, he just knew that it had a fairly danceable beat.

Relief flooded him when Peter started to relax. His eyes no longer darted around at the stares and whispers and instead he was focused on Tony.

They danced, probably looking completely silly as they wiggled and spun each other to the music. But Peter was enjoying himself. And that was all that mattered to Tony.

As the song faded out and another one started playing in, Peter laughed, the sound clear despite the loud background.

Nothing else mattered. All that mattered was their little bubble of perfection. He and Peter. No one else.

The young man’s hair was tousled, curls loose since he had decided not to gel them down. He looked like an angel, soft and happier than Tony had ever seen him. As happy as he deserved to be all the time.

Peter deserved perfection and nothing else. Tony was just glad that he could contribute.

Then a slower song started and Peter awkwardly pulled away. “We can...sit this one out. It might be weird if we did this one. Just friends and all....” he didn’t look at Tony, eyes on the floor.

The older man watched him, slowly holding his hand out. “Peter, we can do this if you want to.”

The young man’s silence, but hopeful look towards the hand told him all that he needed to know.

“Will you dance with me, Peter?”

God, Peter’s heart was beating way too fast. But he was going to dance with Mr. Stark. And not how they had been before- this was intimate. Close. Something for- for lovers. Not friends, like they were.

But something in him desperately wanted it to mean more.

So he slowly looked up again, taking his hand and allowing himself to be brought close.

Tony smiled at him, expression soft and loving and definitely going to give him away. But he found that he really didn’t care. Not anymore.

He held Peter against his chest gently, swaying to the delicate crooning of the lyrics of whatever song was playing. He didn’t care what it was. All he cared about was Peter.

It was all about Peter.

The young man looked up at him, cheeks flushed lightly. He looked so beautiful. And happy. Everything he deserved.

“Mr. Stark....” he said quietly, heartbeat picking up.

“Please, call me Tony. It makes me feel incredibly wrong if you keep calling me Mr. Stark,” he murmured, still holding onto him and watching him.

“What do you mean? Wrong?” Peter asked, confused.

Tony sighed softly. “God, Peter. I shouldn’t tell you this. I shouldn��t be- okay. Okay. I can do this.”

The younger man could hear how his heart started racing.

“You’re...perfect. In every way. And doing this with you was a bit selfish on my part,” Tony started. “I know I just wanted to make sure you could come here and have fun. But being like this with you? I like it. Too much.” He started to let go, but Peter didn’t let him.

“Tony,” Peter said softly, beaming up at him. “Oh, I’m so glad I’m not alone.”

Tony wasn’t sure how to take that. Was it about the dance? Or what?

But he didn’t get much time to ponder it before Peter was leaning in and kissing him.

Oh.

The kiss wouldn’t have been anything special, it was little more than a peck in reality. But the fact that it was with Peter. His Peter. That made it special.

They broke apart only seconds later, both smiling big before leaning in for a second kiss.

“I love you,” Peter whispered, tucking his face into Tony’s neck.

Tony smiled to himself, swaying to the song again as he kept holding Peter. His Peter. “I love you too.”

And everything was perfect.

[gt-ridel]

i’d LOVE to hear more about your borrower au!

Oh, okay then! Thanks for the interest! :D (Putting it under a cut because it ended up being WAY longer than I thought...)

There isn’t a whole lot to it. I just have a very basic idea of what could happen. Partly because I’ve only played through the beginning of Half-Life one (I attempted to stream it, but my internet connection isn’t strong enough). Everything I know about the series comes from cultural osmosis.  When I finally play the games all the way through I’ll have a better idea of things that could happen in the AU. For now what I have is... Barney is a third or fourth generation Borrower who lives inside of Black Mesa.  A long time ago some Borrowers were kidnapped and experimented on by the company, but some escaped and managed to hide long enough to start families and such.  Barney has never seen anything outside of the facility. As far as he knows, the whole world is concrete and steel and hiding from giant creatures that WILL cut you up or torture you if you are caught.  As far as most of the humans in Black Mesa know, Borrowers are just this funny little story people tell to freak out the new guys. “Yeah there’s totally tiny rat people running around in the vents. It’s true! My friend Dave’s friend Tom saw one once! Some kind of messed up experiment that got loose.” New guys tend not to believe it. People who have been around long enough to know what kind of shady stuff Black Mesa is into are a bit less skeptical. Very few people have ever actually SEEN one though. These Borrowers are next level paranoid. (Totally justified) Barney is living on his own. It’s safer to live alone or in very small groups. Less chance of taking other Borrowers down with you if you are caught.  He’s claimed a few offices as his territory and scavenges for scraps in them. Mostly I think he eats those gross cockroaches that are always running around (safer to hunt than to steal) but when he needs something non food related, the offices are where he goes.  Gordon is fairly new to the company. He recently graduated from MIT, and is currently working on a big project (you know the one).  He’s temporarily staying in the level three dormitories just so he can basically run off to have a shower and a snooze before getting right back to work every day. Once the project is over, he’ll return to commuting from home. He’s heard the stories about Borrowers, but Dr. Kleiner assures him it’s just a prank people like to pull, so Gordon puts it out of his mind pretty immediately.  One day Barney sneaks into one of the offices to snag some rubber bands (INVALUABLE stuff). This scientist seems to work very long hours, but he’s pretty sure they’ve left for the night. While he’s climbing up his rope to get back into the vent, he gets spooked by the sound of a giant human opening the door.  Barney has never in his life been seen by a scientist, and in his panic, accidentally slips and gets his leg tangled in his own rope. He’s trapped right out in the open at the mercy of some mad scientist! Gordon isn’t a mad scientist, but he sure is a surprised one when he returns to his office with a fresh coffee in hand and finds a tiny man on his desk.  Is he seeing this because he’s been working to hard? Had to much coffee? Hasn’t seen the sun in weeks? But no mater how long he stands in the doorway blinking stupidly, the tiny man is still there.  Barney feels like he’s going to drop dead at any moment, but he tries his best to at least LOOK calm in the face of death.  He gingerly lifts a hand a waves. “Uh, h-hey Doc.” He says with a wobbly smile. “Uh... Hi... tiny... man on my desk?” (Yeah Gordon talks in my AU) Gordon approaches, still in shock, and when Barney flinches back violently, he flinches too. Gordon gently untangles Barney from the rope and introduces himself. With no immediate means of egress, Barney feels like the only thing he can do is chat with the giant, trying to keep things light and friendly. No need to get the scalpels and the cages.    Gordon is of course curious as heck, and whatever he was supposed to be working on is completely shoved to the side in favor of talking with Barney all night.  Much to both of their surprise (Barney’s more than Gordon’s) they actually end up really enjoying each others company. They share a granola bar from Gordon’s desk (one of the best things Barney has every eaten) and a bit of coffee (Not good at all, but not the worst thing he’s been forced to drink). Over time, Barney finds himself coming back to visit the weird human whenever he’s alone in the office.  Gordon is very concerned about Barney’s diet. He eats cockroaches and scraps from the garbage? When was the last time this man had a vegetable? (Barney: What the hell’s a vegetable? What’s a fruit? Are you swearing at me?)  These discussions leads to other troubling revelations. Barney is in constant danger. He’s never been outside of the facility. He doesn’t even know there IS an outside! Gordon’s heart is thoroughly broken on the borrowers behalf, and he offers to take Barney with him when he goes home at the end of the month. Barney doesn’t exactly understand, because he thought humans just lived in the dorms. But the more Gordon talks about the outside, the more Barney is captivated by the idea.  It is absolutely 100% insane, but... But maybe he could live in a house with Gordon? Not have to worry about hiding. Not have to worry about starving. Get some of that fresh air he’s been hearing about.  It takes a little while, but eventually Barney caves, and the two start excitedly planning for the big move.  First Gordon has to finish his project, and Barney has to pack up everything he owns (which isn’t too much, but still a job).  On the day of the big test, Barney is waiting in Gordon’s office, filled with anxiety and excitement.  He waits... And waits... And waits... The lights flicker. Is something wrong with the power? Is... was that a scream he just heard out in the hall? Was that a gunshot?! What’s happening out there? Is Gordon okay? Barney decides maybe it would be safer if he waited for Gordon back in the vent. But just as he’s about to climb in, he hears something huge scuttling through the metal tunnel.  Suddenly a... THING bursts out of the vent and lands clumsily on the desk in front of him, scattering giant pieces of paper filled with Gordon’s writing, and shattering the desk lamp.  He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s staring at a headcrab that has been following his scent all through the ventilation system. (Do headcrabs have noses? I don’t know. But it tracked him somehow)  Barney runs and the creature goes crashing after him. Barney is forced to dive for the floor (not a deadly fall for a borrower, considering their incredibly light bodyweight. But still scary!) He’s backed into a corner while this unnatural thing closes in on him. He’s going to die. He’s going to die and he’ll never see Gordon again and they’ll never escape this place and- A figure bursts through the door, covered head to toe in some kind of armor. It races forward, crowbar in hand, and swings at the creature, smacking it away from the cowering borrower. The figure slam it’s weapon into it again and again, long after it’s stopped moving. All that is left is a pile of twisted flesh and yellow viscera.     The towering figure then turns to Barney, and his heart is suddenly trying to claw it’s way up his throat.  He stands to run, but it’s too late. Swiftly, roughly, a giant gloved hand reaches down and snatches the Borrower up. The glove is covered in alien gore, but that is the least of his worries. He can’t tell who the human is behind the heavy helmet, and even if he could, he can barely breath for fear, let alone speak.  The figure examines him, then walks over to the desk and sets him down carefully.  The figure falls heavily into the seat, and with arms that suddenly look too heavy for it, lifts the helmet off its head.  There in front of the borrower sits Gordon Freeman. Pail, sweaty, shaking, and so, so relieved that Barney is alive. He’s seen a lot of people die today, and was nearly sick with the idea that Barney might be among them.  Their plan has been complicated. Leaving Black Mesa isn’t going to be as easy as just hiding in Gordons pocket and walking out the door. Now they are going to have to fight their way out.  In game mechanics don’t translate very well to real life, and I don’t think the HEV suit actually has pockets and holsters that let you carry tons of weapons and stuff. I think they settle on having Barney ride along with him inside the helmet. It’s not super safe (and I imagine it would be pretty gross what with the sweat and everything) but it’s the best option they have.  That’s all the story I’ve got. I’m not sure how it ends, or if/how we get to HL2 from this, but still. Maybe at the end they just get to go home and live a peaceful life together away from Black Mesa. That would be nice. =p   So, uh... Yeah! That’s the idea so far. ^__^;;   

[lyssismagical]

evermore

Just a Solid Vent Fic 

I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho 

 *

As a compromise for Tony not being able to pay Peter’s tuition to MIT thanks to his full ride, Tony bought an apartment right beside campus for Peter to live in, to ensure no awkward adventures trying to be Spider-Man with a roommate.

Peter’s still adamant about getting a job and paying for his food, phone bill, and any other things like clothing or entertainment.

And balancing classes, patrolling, and a job, isn’t easy, of course. But it’s always been better for him to work hard than to give himself time to think. It’s not like his mental health is on hold, but it’s easier to put it aside when he’s got so much to do all the time.

It doesn’t help that he’s also on the debate team thanks to MJ, and in the robotics club thanks to Ned.

When November rolls around and it brings the final projects, Peter pushes himself to the limit to keep up with everything.

He starts dropping his sleep to only a nap whenever he can squeeze it in, working all afternoon, classes all morning, and Spider-Man all night, and he starts making up excuses for anything that isn’t a number one priority.

He stops seeing his friends, stops calling May back, stops replying to Tony’s worried texts, stops helping out with his professors or the librarian or his classmates. He stops cleaning his apartment, letting dishes pile up on the counters and laundry go unwashed.

It’s bad, and he knows that, rationally and logically, he knows.

But that doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway.

Three weeks, he tells himself.

And he keeps pushing.

MJ shows up at his apartment out of the blue when he’s studying away, and he barely manages to clear the fog in his head to stumble for the door.

“I can’t talk right now,” he says before she can even say hello. “I’ve gotta study for my physics exam.”

“No, you’ve gotta chill the fuck out.”

He shakes his head, leaving the door open as he turns his back and heads into his kitchen for a quick snack so he can get back to his work. “No, I have to study.”

“Oh my god, you live in a garbage dump,” she says, eyes going wide as she takes in the state of his apartment. “When was the last time you washed a dish? Or, gross, your hair?”

He doesn’t bother responding, rolling his eyes and downing a protein bar. “Two weeks, now, and then I’m done for a month.”

“At this rate, I don’t know if you’ll make it through the next two weeks.”

Peter can’t help but roll his eyes again, part of him hating how much he’s lashing out despite wanting help, needing help, but unable to find the strength to stop it from happening as he brushes past her again.

“I know you’re stressed, I know you’re anxious about exams and papers and labs, but, seriously, Peter?” she says, following him to where he’s working in the living room, papers and binders and textbooks strewn across every surface. “You’re a genius, okay? You’ve been getting excellent grades all year. The only reason you might not do well on these projects is because you’re working yourself to death.”

He shakes his head, feeling very suddenly like he might cry. “It’s not that easy. Just… I don’t want to deal with this right now, okay?”

MJ doesn’t take that as a good answer, though, sitting beside him on the old couch. “I know you, okay? I know you better than most people do. I’ve seen you in some of the worst states you’ve been in. I know this. You can’t pretend that this is okay or normal or that this is you doing fine. I don’t believe it for a second.”

He opens his mouth to fight back, to argue, to try to convince her otherwise, or maybe just to kick her out. But he hesitates.

After the Snap’s reversal, she was the one who devoted all her time to taking care of him. He was such a mess of PTSD and depression and emptiness, but she was there. She kept the lights on for him, she brought him food and water, held him after nightmares, talked him down from panic attacks every other day. She was there, despite everything, she was always there.

Tony was too far and he never wanted to bother May, so he regularly would drop by her fire escape where she would patch him up after patrols, and occasionally, let him sleep next to her and make sure to get him to school on time.

She’s always been there.

She’s held him together, kept him sane, helped him through it all.

It wouldn’t be fair to get pissed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, shoving a hand through his mess of greasy, tangled curls. “I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m drowning.”

And she nods because she’s always understood, always known what he means. She puts her hand over his. “You deserve a nap. C’mon.”

He goes to shake his head, looking to where his lab is only half-done, he’s only a few chapters into the textbook to get prepared for his exam, rough notes scribbled out for a paper.

“No, c’mon. You’re taking a nice nap. You deserve it,” she repeats, tugging more insistently at his wrist.

But he shakes his head this time, pulling his hand away. “If I stop, I won’t be able to start again.”

“Peter-”

“I’m serious, if I take a nap or a break or take a second to breathe, I will crumble and I won’t be able to put myself back together in time for these due dates. I won’t get back up. I just-” He stops, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his wet eyes. “I need to keep pushing for the next two weeks and then I can fall apart.”

MJ shakes her head, fingers wrapping around his thin wrist. “That’s not healthy. And it certainly wouldn’t be right for me to let you do that.”

“I’ll fail my classes if I don’t do well on these assignments and exams. I need to keep going. I know it’s bad, but if I get into bed, I will fall into a slump and I won’t get anything done.”

Surprising both him and what seems like herself, she nods, holding onto him a little tighter like he’ll disappear before her very eyes. “Fine. But I’m going to stay here with you and make sure you don’t die over the next two weeks, alright? And you have to listen when I tell you to eat or watch stupid reality TV shows with me.”

He hums out an agreement, letting himself slump into her side, eyes focusing in on his mess of homework laid out before him.

“Come on. Step one, is getting you showered and in clean clothes because you smell like you spent the night in a dumpster.”

*

MJ does exactly as she promised she would. She calls it a ‘mental health sleepover’ and they set up camp in the living room.

She calls in sick for him at work for most of the week, telling them that he caught the flu and wouldn’t be back until after his exams, and even then, he’d already booked most of Winter Break off to go home to New York.

There wasn’t much she could do, in all honesty, it wasn’t like she could force him to sleep or take a break without a fight, but she could make him healthy meals and stop him from going out patrolling, which was enough to take a big load off his shoulders.

And she occasionally can convince him to watch those dumb reality TV shows, which occasionally makes him fall asleep on the couch for at least an hour or two.

It helps, of course, but it doesn’t solve any of the problems.

As soon as he’s finished exams, he’s going to drop, he’s going to fall, he’s going to drown, let the waves take him.

And nobody will be able to help him then.

“I booked your flight home,” MJ says over dinner and while he’s finishing up his lab report. “My flight’s a few hours after yours, so I’ll be with you until you board and then the Starks will pick you up.”

“Thanks. I really owe you one,” he says, only half-listening as he starts on his paper.

She grabs him by his shoulder and makes him turn to her laptop screen. “Say yes to the dress time. Your paper can wait a bit.”

“There’s only so much I can procrastinate,” he says but he’s already closing his laptop and tucking himself into her side, and shoulders finally relaxing.

She starts the episode, on a low volume, and presses a quick kiss to his temple.

By the time they’re onto the second episode, Peter’s slurring out his insults to the dresses some of the women pick, making fun of the different styles, and blinking getting longer and longer.

“That neckline?” Peter goes, giggling into MJ’s shoulder. “Especially with those shoes?”

“You’re a bitch.”

“I know, but seriously?” he laughs again, a little window into the person he once was. “I mean the first option wasn’t bad, but the choice of a grey dress in the first place…”

MJ’s voice goes all soft and gentle when she next speaks up, “Come on, go to sleep, you can afford to take a little break.”

And he nods sleepily against her shoulder, tucking himself just a little closer, making himself small against her side. It’s simple, for now.

*

As soon as he’s done his last exam, he can feel the adrenaline wearing off, disappearing from within him, all energy draining from his very veins.

He goes straight home afterwards, ignoring everybody who tries to stop him for a chat. And as soon as he makes it to his apartment, he goes straight to bed, tugging the sheets right over his head.

He shouldn’t do this, he knows. He should call MJ, ask that she drop everything for him again because he can feel himself slipping, but he won’t. He can’t. He doesn’t even know when the last time he saw his phone was, let alone have the effort to leave his blankets and try to find it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have it in him to care.

He feels empty and exhausted and strung out. Carved hollow. Putting everything he has into the past few months, he feels like he has nothing left to give.

There’s a knock on his front door, but he doesn’t move.

A few minutes later, his phone rings, somewhere in another part of the apartment. It rings again and again, a symphony for him to pass out to.

*

Time passes strangely when he’s this deep in a depressive episode. He doesn’t know how long he’s been huddled under his blankets, hiding from the world. It could’ve been anywhere between a couple hours and a few days, he doesn’t know.

His phone continues ringing, far away and echoing through his dreams, tears sliding down his cheeks at random intervals, hands trembling where they’re tucked under his chest.

He feels like he’s drifting away, collapsing into himself, fading away into nothingness.

He feels empty, hollow, gone.

He gave everything he had into school and work over the course of four months, and he has nothing left to give anymore. He’s nothing more than an empty well.

And he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to pull himself together, pack, get a flight home, and pretend to be one hundred percent for Morgan.

He’d rather just die here, in this cave he’s built, ghost-like and fading away already, than have to face another soul.

*

When he hears his front door unlocking, he knows he should be worried. Nobody has a spare copy of his key except for Ned, who already went home to New York a few weeks back.

He knows it should be at least a little concerning that somebody is breaking into his apartment, but he can’t find it in him to care. He doesn’t have the energy to move or hide or try to protect himself.

He just curls up a little tighter and hopes that this won’t be his last day.

“Peter?”

He lifts his head, just enough to see over his cave of his blankets.

And standing in his bedroom doorway is Tony.

“Hi,” he breathes, curling up a little tighter, knowing he’s safe.

Tony slips into his room and sits at the end of his bed, one hand on Peter’s ankle. “MJ called when you wouldn’t answer your phone or let her in. She knew something was up.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I saw something like this coming after you finished your senior year and spent two weeks sick and depressed. I thought you’d be home in time before you started feeling so run down, but I guess I was wrong.”

Peter doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that, so instead he lets his head fall into the pillows again.

“I’m not going to make you do anything yet, I think you could use a bit more time here. Though, Morgan thought two days sleeping was plenty, I think another one might do you well. But tomorrow, we’re going to get you fed and showered and your apartment clean, and then this weekend, we’ll get a flight home. Sound good?”

He nods, though he’s pretty sure he would agree to pretty much anything so long as the decisions are taken out of his hands.

“Come here,” Tony murmurs, sliding into the space beside Peter, arms open. Peter finally feels at home when he crawls into the awaiting hug. “MJ mentioned Say Yes to the Dress bingeing, you feel up for making fun of more dress choices?”

Peter laughs half-heartedly against Tony’s chest, tucking himself into him like a child would, and nods, breathing in the soothing scent of motor oil and expensive cologne.

He knows he’ll fall apart again, he knows that it’s not going to be a permanent solution, but the time being, he has Tony’s arms around him, a reality TV show quietly keeping them company, and the relief of having time to feel miserable before he has to pick himself up, it’s enough for now. It’ll be enough.

He’ll be okay with people like Tony and MJ at his side.

He’ll be okay.

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