#crazy-scientist-chick

[luvrrgirl444]

chapter 21: would u rather ft eren

IRL, INSTAGRAM!

“yo, wassup guys!” connie screamed into the camera. he was sitting in the passenger seat of jean’s car, as usual.

“today we’re back in the car-”

“-my car” jean interrupted.

you, connie and sasha all rolled your eyes.

“anyway, we’re back in jean’s car for would you rather part two, and we’ve got a not so special guest”

“you fucking cunt!” eren shouted from the backseat. he was sat behind connie, with his arm around you. you were sat in between him and sasha. connie mocked eren and flipped him off.

you rolled your eyes. “as this dumbass was saying, today we’re here with eren. aka photography guy. aka that one hot drummer. aka-.”

“bro can you thirst for him on twitter and not in the car.” connie said, gagging.

“not even thirsting, just being real.” you shrugged, making eren chuckle.

“someone spay this motherfucker.”

“shut the fuck up, we didn’t even mention what we’re eating today.” jean interrupted, once again. “sash?”

“today, we’re eating chick-fil-a! because eren’s never had it. allegedly.”

“allegedly?” he questioned.

“yes. anyway, we’ll see you when we get the goods.” sasha said, smiling.

🫧

“WE GOT THE FUCKING GOODS” sasha screamed. “now, we’re gonna get the questions and get this shit started.”

jean pulled out his phone and went into instagram to find the questions.

“alright. would you rather be hot and stupid or ugly and intelligent?”

“hot and stupid” connie responded. “i already am.” he smiled.

“delusional ass” jean replied.

“y’all, please stop gassing connie’s ugly ass up.” you said.

“y’all not funny.” he rolled his eyes.

“ugly and intelligent is obviously the right choice.”eren said.

“definitely.”

“DICKRIDER” connie shouted.

“bitch shut up. as i was saying, those scientist paychecks are heavy. if i’m getting paid millions, i wouldn’t give a fuck about how i looked.” you agreed.

“bitch think she mariah the scientist.”

you rolled your eyes and pulled connie’s ear. “you want me to beat your ass so bad.”

“hot and stupid. i could literally get a modeling job and i’d be rich too.” sasha argued, before taking a sip of her milkshake.

“okay, thats valid.” jean said. “nobody wants to be fucking stupid tho.”

“id rather be stupid than ugly.” connie piped in.

“you’re already both tho?” you said, making everyone giggle, except for connie.

“imma need you to choke on that chicken.”

“moving on.”

“would you rather be bald or have no teeth.” jean read out. “bald. no hesitation.”

“definitely bald, i could literally just wear wigs and nobody would know. those human hair wigs go crazy.” you said.

“being bald is crazy. i’m having no teeth and getting dentures.”

“connie, you’re literally one shave away from being bald” sasha told him. “i’m going bald too, i need my teeth.”

“my hair is my best feature. i’m getting dentures with connie.” eren said.

“my motherfucking man!” connie shouted and dapped eren up.

“you two are fucking insane.” jean grimaced.

🫧

you guys did about 5 more would you rathers before ending the video.

“thats all for today guys, hope you enjoyed us screaming like children! see you in the next video!”

the recording ended there. a black screen then followed, with the question “would you rather choke and die or subscribe to bigcheese4000?” on it.

liked by lifearlert, mikasackerman & 456,777 others

👤 jaegerbomb

bigcheese4000 new video ft eren out now run it up 🔥🔥🔥🔥

comments

jaegerbomb CONNIE WTF IS THIS

⤷ user220 the way he instantly knew it was connie ECVEEVHWHW

jaegerbomb ugly picture n i still look better than you @conman69

⤷ conman69 WOAH???????

⤷ planetyn CLOCK HIS TEA BAE

⤷ bigcheeseluvr4 STOP I LOVE THEM

sashluvsfood chick fil a 🤤

⤷ horseface fatass

user111 eren’s arm around y/n??? IM SCREAMING

user2020 i need jean

⤷ jeansbbygirl333 so bad

hotgirlsloveyn WE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

planetyn the tattoos im screaming

⤷ user20 “someone spay this mf”

user500 new bigcheese video with EREN???? ABOUT DAMN TIME

view 43.2k others..

🫧

- the way i’ve been neglecting my og series omg..

taglist <3 : @greeniegreengreen @bakuhoes-bxtch @itzgabz22 @princess-jaeger @marsandsaturn @violenthots @roses-arerosies @conniesbbymama @llovergirlll @iheartamajiki @clipperlighter @liliorsstuff-blog @hoohoohope @akvrae @rinslutz @miniaturelunar @sheluvzeren @shigamiryuk @chamomilespetal @booistoleyou @asp7n @heartz444anna @thatartistshar0n @vintagexparker @tsukkisukkii @venusinx @seeingivy @cyberkitty1 @anitatvd @blamemef0rit @crvzy-fujoshi

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug reads my fanfiction for 'The Bad Batch'

Proverbs 11:2 “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.”

I made the gross error of telling Doug that I was writing a novel length fanfiction crossover of The Bad Batch and The Expanse. It's here if you'd like to take a gander yourself.

A massive fan of both, Doug practically hooted with joy when I mentioned it at a barbeque. So, like a dumbass, I sent him a link to the fic, thinking he’d wax praise on me.

I had forgotten how aggressively irreverent this man is. I was in for a beating.

Hint: I quickly sketched this up and sent it to Doug asking if this is how he imagined Tech and Sjael Drummer in the story. He said yes, and was ECSTATIC. I'm 99% sure it's on his fridge now. Next to @amalthiaph's piece of course.

CW: It's Doug, he's not child friendly. Y'all should've figured it out by now.

They're looking at me like 'We're a clone commando genius and a pilot with a Ph.D in chemical engineering. WTF is this hillbilly shit?"

Anywho, here’s the delightful exchange we had after he finished up the current chapter:

Doug: So, lemme get this straight. We got a nice pretty Belter scientist-engineer, Sa-Jail Drummah, –so the lady’s a space Cajun. She got an undercut, tattoos, some Indian blood in her, and a crazy bitch sister who was in the Navy! Yup, pure Gulf Shore girl, got it. Sa-Jail’s a chemical engineer, I bet she got her degree at USM* like a good gal. And she meets Ryan-from-Accounting, who is a space redneck, because the boy’s a Mandalorian clone. And they’re all out camping, nice. It’s a white trash love story in space, awesome. Love it.

Me: It’s not a white trash love story in space, DOUG.

Doug: Oh, it ain’t? Let’s see here…the first time the boy meets the girl, she’s setting up a shitty perimeter fence around her trailer in the woods and he holds her up at gunpoint in the middle of the night. That’s some bayou romance right up in there. Did she show him her shrimping boat after that?”

Me: …that is true. No shrimping boat, but he joins her on a hike the next day.

Doug: Taking a girl out into the woods to show her what a rough rugged redneck you are! That’s classic white trash mating rituals right there. I’ve seen it in action my whole life, I know it when I see it. Did the boy talk about his guns?

Me: No, but he does talk about his time in the armed forces and his brothers. His guns are in his backpack. 

Doug: Guns on the first date? Seriously. And bragging about your time in the USMC is like, the first thing a redneck does to impress a lady besides talking about his truck and his smoker and how much he goes to church. This is real redneck courtship happening in this story. Oh, and the part where they finally start banging?”

Me: (takes deep breath) What about it? 

Doug: First of all, my wife, she loved that part!

Me: YOU READ THIS TO YOUR WIFE?!**

Doug: Well, yeah! She loves a good romance and we had a long drive that day. Anyway, Sa-Jail had just been bitching about her ex-oyfriend, or was it ex-husband?

Me: Ex-fiance.

Doug: Same difference. Anyway, Toby***–clearly named after Toby Keith like a good Southern man–left her for some other chick after he joined the Navy because that’s how the Navy man rolls. Just like Toaster Strudel's daddy. Wasn’t Toby a pilot? Yup, sounds like an average day in Pensacola to me. Flew his Blue Angel to different poon. Then, Sa-Jail, well, she needed somebody else to wash her mouth out, per se. 

So, after knowing the man for what, two or three days, she flings herself at Ryan-from-Accounting and they proceed to hump like coked-out rabbits all over her trailer. And in TRUE Cajun fashion, Sa-Jail is so impressed by Ryan-from-Accounting’s pipelaying skills that she makes him DINNER. And what does Ryan-from-Accounting do that any self-preserving redneck man would do with a woman he just started dating?

Me: Enlighten my Yankee self, Doug.

Doug: HE CALLS ALL HIS HUNGRY RELATIVES OVER TO JOIN THEM FOR THEIR FIRST DINNER TOGETHER. Which they all enjoy outside the trailer! Cookout style! Nothing says ‘redneck romance’ like ‘Hey sugar, you and me just started getting serious five minutes ago, now HERE IS MY WHOLE FAMILY. FROM MY BROTHER CLAYTON THAT JUST GOT RELEASED FROM ANGOLA TO MY COUSIN CAROLLYNN WHO HAS FIVE BABY DADDIES. ALSO WE ARE GOING TO CHURCH TOMORROW AND GETTING CRACKER BARREL AFTER THAT SO GET A NICE DRESS OR MEEMAW AND MY AUNTIES WILL JUDGE.” 

Me: Jesus Christ, Doug, that is not what happened.

::Doug screenshots my longfic and sends it to me and I am deceased because he’s not exactly wrong::

Doug: And of course, Sa-Jail is a good Cajun woman, just rolls up her sleeves and feeds everybody because that’s how the bayou babe do. The rest of the story might as well be called ‘Real Housewives of Space Slidell’ for all of the white trash shenanigans that follow. Let’s see here…there’s knife chasing, screaming, someone gets pregnant out of wedlock, a fist fight while someone’s driving, lots of guns, tattoos, motorcycles, a cowboy bar, a hot Southern nurse, lots of cussing, baby daddy drama, biscuits and gravy, Navy veterans, Ryan-from-Accounting’s various brothers from different daddies show up and they all want food and a place to stay, hooch-making, pimp-slaps, more guns…this is a real Cajun-Redneck tale of love. With spaceships. It’s great!

Me: I’m speechless, Doug.

Doug: Jenny loved the scenes where they cross a river with the motorcycle and then they do the nasty next to it. That’s 10/10 on the redneck  Was Ryan-from-Accounting playing ‘Fishin’ in the Dark’ in the background on his phone, too?” 

Me: I AM GENUINELY SPEECHLESS, DOUG. 

@eyecandyeoz, did he do a good job capturing the essence of the story? LOL

---------------------------------------------------------------------

*=In Doug’s defense, University of Southern Mississippi has an incredible department regarding chemical engineering and specifically, polymer science. So he’s not far off.

**=I DIED, I’M DEAD, A GHOST IS WRITING THIS RIGHT NOW. 

***=HIS NAME WAS NOT TOBY FFS. 

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

This blog IS a safe space for

Riddle enthusiasts

Venom Addicts

Harlequins

Nerds who like violent dancing

Killer Crocodiles

Tea fanboys

Mad Scientists (who miss their wife)

Plant ladies

Crazy Cat Chicks

Bi men with burn scars

Play-dough dudes

Mafia Bosses

This blog is NOT a safe space for

Clowns

[proton-wobbler]

Moluccan Eclectus Parrot (Eclectus roratus)

"just read about em in a book and they're so fascinating! the males and females are completely different colors to the point scientists assumed they were different species for years. they are also unique in that their babies are born sexually dimorphic in their colors! overall very interesting little guys" "I own one. He’s loud. I love him. Also they’re one of the only kinds of parrots with sexual dimorphism. Look em up. They both look crazy different. In fact, they thought they were two different kinds of birds for a loooong time."

The breeding behavior for this species is wild. Females are thought to be so brightly colored as they will guard the entrance to their nest cavity for up to 11 months at a time. The coloration serves as a deterrent to other females, but also highlights her presence to males in the area. One female eclectus can have multiple males that feed and mate with her, and males will take care of multiple females at a time as well. The male's green coloration helps to camouflage him against the leaves and trees as he forages. It is noted that the plumage of both sexes is quite spectacular when viewed under ultraviolet light, a type of light that they predators (hawks and owls) cannot see in.

"Adult females with poor nest hollows often commit infanticide on the male, if they produce both a male and a female chick. Inadequate nest hollows have a habit of flooding in heavy rain, drowning the chicks or eggs inside. This reported infanticide in wild pairs may be the result of other causes, since this behavior where the hen selectively kills male chicks is not observed in captive birds."

Sources:

Image Source: eBird (Doug Herrington)

[aikoiya]

These chicks are coocoo for cocopuffs!

Seriously! Did you see how the girl in the first tiktok lost her mind at the guy just trying to inform her that she had a gashose attached to her car?

And the lady who freaked over a guy just approaching her??

Like, what about her son? He's male. After all, she specifically said "no male" should ever approach a female. That means her son too!

And what about her husband? "No male" includes him too!

Legit crazy.

It just... It feels like the true goal of feminism is the total & complete division of the human race so that males & female simply do not interact anymore. Possibly not even for the purposes of reproduction.

We already have procedures to where parents will have egg cells specifically fertilized over & over again until they get the sex they want! Then they just throw away the ones that weren't what they wanted!

I mean, we have scientists trying to fertilize eggs with just stem cells & other scientists trying to grow babies using artificial wombs!

If even one of these things comes to fruition, the family unit will die!

I legit got a comment from a feminist saying that men were going to go extinct & that she couldn't wait for it!

Such hatefulness!!

[iamanoccasionaldoodler]

The mirror test as proof of self awareness is so crazy to me bc like. I don't even think I'D pass the mirror test. Like if I had lived my entire life in the wild and the only time I saw my reflection was in still pools of water maybe sometimes and I suddenly came across a CRYSTAL CLEAR image of myself VERTICALLY FLOATING???????? My first thought would NOT be "oh that chick's got a dot I wonder if I've got a dot"

Fourth dimensional scientists showing humans exact 3D replicas of themselves and sighing sadly when the humans freak out, resigning themselves to the fact that humans cannot recognize themselves and are just mindless automatons.

Like don't get me wrong it is COOL when animals pass the mirror test. But I don't think it's testing self awareness. It's testing "ability to understand mirrors"

[cyberrrghost]

plot ideas for myself [2]

characters

character a

motorcyclist, part of the local gang of motorbike kids.

like over 5'11 at least (hella tall)

brooding kinda kid, listens to 80's rock & metal on their sony walkman

terrifying in appearance, is actually very softspoken

not to be fucked with

character b

diner waiter/waitress

deadpan or just really fed up with people

kinda mean

cute asf tho

probably like 5'2

blowout hairstyle and dark eyeshadow

character c

the popular boy jock

everyone votes him prom king

suave, sassy

sporty, probably plays tennis in his shorts and headband LOL

soft heart, cute smile, very sweet

will faint if his clothes get dirty (cleanfreak affff)

superstar (he can sing!!)

character d

rockstar chick

dont fuck with her

will kiss you and do your makeup (she loves u <3)

HAIR HAIR HAIR!!

crazy af but sweet

will protecc and attacc

probably hangs out with character a

arcade for ages

character e

sweet girl next door

just wants to go on picnics with u

prom queen every single time

everyone loves her

secretly struggles w/ body issues

soft, sweet, sometimes a damsel in distress

preppy

after school movies

character f

mad scientist guy

crazy chem experiments

NOT A NERD!! SCIENCE!!!!!

probably knows all the answers to physics tests

physically lacking but mentally strongest

great emotional support

crazier than rockstar chick

[toshima-division]

Mei's Thoughts on Shizuoka Division

Hojo Kanon

"...Damn, what the hell happened to this crazy woman? Word is, she used to be a scientist for Chuohku until some sort of experiment scrambled her f'ing brains. Now she apparently plays the part of a female Dr. Jekyll or some shit. Kind of fitting when you see her MC name. Honestly, I wonder who's more insane: her or the crazy spider chick that I, unfortunately, still have to guard from time to time."

Aichi Reika

"I've heard about this chick. She got married five times, right? And each time, her husband seems to have 'mysteriously' passed away soon after the wedding, with her inheriting their fortune. Chick's kind of nuts, but she's got guts! I respect that."

Kito Sakura

"Ha, Ms. Renegade! This chick's got balls, but I like her enough. Admittedly, our first meeting could have gone better, though. I ran into her while walking home from a night of work (I still say she ran into me). Needless to say, when you get two badass angry women together, there's obviously going to be trouble. So after a round or two of us beating the tar out of each other, we called it a 'draw' and ended it there.

"Strangely, she wasn't too bit out of shape about it, and we had a nice laugh about it. Yeah, she's alright."

Silent Tragedy

"Other than the mad scientist over there, I admire this team. Aichi and Kito seem like women who know what they want, and know how to get it. They have no qualms about who they have to hurt, and I respect that. A shame we're on opposing teams. But hey, maybe when this is over, I'll them out for a drink and a talk. I feel we could all get along well with each other."

[awkwardac]

Short story from Tank girl movie

Been a bit to long then I'd like, but school has been hectic and will continue to be hectic, lol. Either way, here is a short story I wrote. Please give me feedback about spelling or the story in general. I'd be happy to improve!

@primary-022 since you wrote something and tagged me, I wanted to write something and tag you too. I hope you like this!

Just a short story to explore more of the Rippers dynamic, because I'm curious and have ideas. Mostly just DeeTee and T-Saint right now.

WARNING: swearing, threats of ripping people's heads off, brief mentions of sexual content (but there isn't any), mentions of a corpse, mention of cannibals(but no one gets eaten)

---

These girls were going to get the Rippers killed.

No one seemed to notice or care, except T-Saint. The moment they fell in through their sub-gate, he knew they were trouble. Not only did they broke into the Rippers home, but they were strangers, wore Water and Power clothes, made random sexual gestures, and didn’t take anything seriously. T-Saint would threaten their life and they would just laugh it off.

Well... to be fair, the Rippers did give them some ‘truth serum’, which T-Saint was pretty sure was just laughing gas.

Eitherway, imagine to his surprise that at least half of his mates wanted to spare the women. Too make matters worse, DeeTee bought their sob story of some little girl getting kidnapped. T-Saint managed to convince him to have the girls prove themselves by pulling off a heist, half-hoping they'd get killed. Unfortunately, after a chaotically messy heist, they pulled through with the goods...

which, unfortunately again, turned out to be a bunch of boxes full of dirt. Dirt, and the corpse of the scientist who created the Rippers, Johnny prophet. Murdered by Water and Power. It was enough to fully convince the Rippers to work with the girls. Majority rule.

So, against T-Saint’s better judgement, he sucked it up and went through with it. However, he still kept an eye. Maybe these women didn't have any ill intent, but they sure were crazy as hell.

The blonde woman who referred herself as 'Tank girl' (or Rebecca by her friend), started to mess with Donner's radio. The same one they used to listen into Water and Power radio frequencies.

"Please don't - " Donner said, reaching towards her.

With a grin, Tank girl tore out what looked like a lightbulb, causing sparks to fly from the radio. Donner winced and gritted his teeth.

"Just would make a great dildo," Tank girl declared, shaking it in front of him.

Laughing, she got up and joined the other girl, Jet. Donner just stared after her, face completely wide in shock. From the other side of the room, T-Saint shook his head. Now they're breaking all of our crap.

"Here you go!" Tank girl said, tossing the antenna to Jet.

She scrambled to catch the antenna, startled. Quickly recovering, Jet thanked her and went back to whatever it was she was making. Better not be a fucking bomb, T-Saint thought. Not even Donner dared to make a bomb - it was a quick way to kill everyone.

"Hey," DeeTee said, appearing beside him. "You seem stressed."

No shit, T-Saint thought, flicking an ear. "They're going to get us fucking killed."

"Have some faith."

Tank girl picked up what seemed like a box knife and inspected it. Shrugging, she tossed over her shoulder, hitting Donner. He winced back with a shout, grasping his forehead.

"No," T-Saint said, shooting DeeTee a look. "I don't think I will."

DeeTee sighed. "Please be chill, but I'm a little concern about your... ‘attitude’."

"’Attitude’? What attitude? I have a great attitude!"

DeeTee raised a hand to calm T-Saint down. But the gesture just made T-Saint even more pissed off. During the whole ordeal with the girls, DeeTee had been after T-Saint for every little thing. As if T-Saint were someone to be kept on bay. Who’s going to keep those chicks at bay? I’m the only one being cautious, and he thinks I just have a bad attitude?

"Don't freak out," DeeTee said. "I just meant that you've been... 'moody'."

"I'm not being moody!" T-Saint snapped. Moody, seriously? "I'm the only one whose taking this whole fucking situation seriously, while the rest of you just dance around! Do you not see how much of a problem this is?"

"It's..." DeeTee waved a hand sideways. "A change. We'll adapt to it, like we always. A little bit of new company wouldn't hurt, would it?"

"It would! It's always been just us. There's a reason we don't work with others. They never liked us."

"I understand, but you cant base it on a few bad experiences - "

"They've all been bad experiences."

It wasn't an exaggeration. When the Rippers first broke out of the lab, they quickly found a desolate place alone. They avoided the bigger ‘factions’ or big groups that were ‘government-military’, in fear that they’d be force to be weapons. So they turned to join the few communities left in the world. It didn't go well.

At the sight of the Rippers, people had screamed and attacked. But, who could blame them? If T-Saint were in their place, he would freak out at the sight of a mutated kangaroo-man. The worse cases, were when people seemed friendly, but turned out that it was for their own gain.

After a couple of rough interactions, it become apparent that they were better off on their own.

"Remember last time we trusted some kid?" T-Saint asked, still burning from the memory. "The goat skull on her head? Yeah, everyone thought she was chill... then we almost got skinned alive."

"That was unfortunate; she seemed like a good kid. Just had bad influences."

"She was a cannibal."

DeeTee inclined his head towards the women. "They aren’t cannibals."

"No; they're worse." T-Saint rubbed his face. "They're crazy, stupid, and have no impulse control. Did you know I caught her fucking Booga?"

"Booga?"

"Fucking Booga!"

"Which one?"

"The one with the tank. Who else?"

"Ah." DeeTee glanced at Tank Girl. "Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time. Everyone's been a little interested in them; look at Donner right now."

On cue, Donner leaned against the table across Jet. He was talking, trying to touch her forearm. Unfortunately for him, Jet kept pulling away with a frown. Unfortunate for her too, T-Saint thought bitterly.

Unlike her friend, Jet was quiet and sensible. A lot more respectful then Tank girl. T-Saint didn't like either of the women, but at least found Jet bearable. Bearable, but a pushover. Watching Donner's advances, T-Saint considered going over and pulling him away. Already got one dumbass laid. Don't need another one.

"I don't like this," T-Saint told DeeTee.

"I know; we all know. You've been very loud about it. That's why I'm concerned about you - everyone is concerned. You're temper is flaring up."

"Temper? You're worried about my temper and attitude, but not about them?"

It was a nod to the two women, who seemed to be arguing now. During T-Saint and DeeTee’s entire conversation, Tank girl kept grabbing random objects and bringing them to Jet. But now Jet was complaining about having too many unnecessary objects.

"I'm optimistic about them," DeeTee said.

T-Saint resisted the urge to pull off his ears. "You said that about goat skull girl too. Look where that got us."

"Could you at least - "

"Watcha talking about?" Tank girl asked, jumping in front of them from out of nowhere. "Gossiping like a bunch of school girls during lunch?"

"Nothing," T-Saint snapped. "Piss off."

Tank girl threw up her hands in an offended gesture. "Well, excuse me!"

"I'm sorry," DeeTee interjected. "We're just not use to company."

"Yeah, I can see that. This place is aaaa mess. How do you guys get anything done?"

Tuning out of the conversation, T-Saint crossed his arms and stared at her. Noticing this, Tank girl turned back to him, cringing.

"Sheesh," she said. "You really need to lighten up."

"No," was all T-Saint said.

"You need a little stress relief or something?" Tank girl asked, reaching for his pants.

Immediately, T-Saint seized her arm and shoved her away. "Don't fucking touch me!"

DeeTee quickly raised an arm, blocking T-Saint’s chest and holding him back. Tank girl backed away with her arms in the air, mumbling something about stuck-ups. Before T-Saint could say anything more, Tank girl circled around and went back to Jet.

DeeTee dropped his arm and turned to T-Saint, frowning.

"If she touches me again, I'm ripping her head off," T-Saint snarled, pointing to Tank girl.

DeeTee held up a hand. "Easy. She didn't mean - "

"I don't care what she means. I'm ripping her head off if she touches me."

Despite keeping a neutral expression, one of DeeTee's ears twitched. Annoyance. DeeTee rarely got frustrated or upset. That's why he was the outspoken one of the group. So why the fuck is he annoyed at me for?

Taking a deep breath, DeeTee said: "Listen: I understand things have been rough lately, with Water and Power and all of that. But that's also why we're working with them. We both have a common enemy. You don't have to like them and I'm not going to force you to like them. But you need to keep cool.”

T-Saint snorted. "I have a right to be pissed at that!"

"Yes, you do," DeeTee agreed. "But I don't want you to lose your head and do something you'll regret! I’m concern about you. You've done it before, you could end up doing it again if you don't control your temper."

"I don't - "

DeeTee gestures towards T-Saint's hands. T-Saint glanced down at his sharp claws - a perk of being a mutant kangaroo. There was some blood now. Not much, but a bit.

With a strike of realization, T-Saint looked back up. Tank girl had made it across the room again, with Jet and Donner. All three stared back at him with wide eyes. Tank girl in particular just looked offended, cradling the arm he grabbed.

Though it wasn’t his intent, T-Saint didn't regret it; she had it coming. He'd do it to anyone who tried to touch him like that. What T-Saint didn't like was everyone else, including DeeTee, watching him carefully. As if he were some savage beast about to go rapid.

T-Saint remembered years of trying to control his temper as a kid. Trying to stay cool when he was a cop. Then the comet and kangaroo thing happened. Each day, he felt more and more of himself slip back into that anger, lashing out more.

DeeTee, to T-Saints annoyance, is right. Of course he’s right. He’s always right.

"Fine," T-Saint muttered. He looked away, crossing his arms again. "Alright! I won't rip her head off... Can I at least hit her if she gets in my space, though?"

DeeTee sighed. "Well... alright, of course. That's fair. Just try not to kill her."

"Yeah nah. She's going to get us all killed first."

"They're not going to get us killed."

Something shot out of Jet's invention. It crashed into the ceiling, shattering the light into hot pieces. A chunk fell on Donner who crashed onto the ground. Despite just being attacked, Tank girl started laughing at the commotion.

After a moment of stunned silence, T-Saint turned to DeeTee. "You were saying?"

---

Notes:

So I kinda see T-Saint as this grumpy guy who is tired of everyone's shenanigans. Maybe he has anger issues which I wanted to explore a bit

DeeTee is more of the calmer guy and honestly, if it weren't for the "We're a committee now", I'd think he's the leader

T-Saint and DeeTee have a respectful relationship, obviously. I got the feeling that T-Saint listens and respects DeeTee more then the other Rippers.

TBH, I don't really like Donner for reasons (his creepy 'advances' on Jet, like what the). So I'm just re-imaging him as less of a pervert and more of just a simp tech guy

Obviously the Rippers don't really like outsiders, for obvious reasons. It's a post-apocalyptic world where everyone is kinda mean. Also, the Rippers are mutated kangaroo men. If I saw one in real life, I'd probably scream in shock (then feel bad about it)

Tank girl is Tank girl, lol. I hope I wrote her properly

[canceramorem]

From July until about the end of august would prove to be a real disappointment for the Pizzle. He had ran ole Girl off with a baseball bat , this is after Gary gave both Maria and Jey Pizzle , a few filters. You know like a filter party . Well , things had changed, drastically since it was the original Jason ad Marie hill. I mean, it was no trash at all there when we first got there. But then a year later, its like a fucking free- for- all -. This was the same hill where the original Asheville Love Dope was invented. This hill holds so many good memories. I lived there for at least a year, Or more.-off and on.

There had been some new people that were trying to front like they were there first. It's funny because Gary and I had been there before anyone. Scarlett Marie will tell you, we did whatever the fuck we wanted up there. No cops ever came up there in a year of making shit and inventing love dope, seeing aliens up there, fucking like Tarzan and Jane, partying , and doing tree yoga.

So we took the filters and put them in a can of coca cola. Wow, that was the highest I had been on the hill. I had to lay down so I wouldn't fall because of the slope of the mountain. Scarlett Marie was equally twisted and on the ground talking like a thousand psychobabblic words a minute. Gary was laughing. Like some sort of mad meth scientist , that love to get people so spun they'd act just like him- perverted and do some nasty shit. Then some shit went down. People showing up, and this was when my guard went up for my chick. Because , one of the dudes, that was trying to get her, well he has HIV now, so four years ago , he was trying to kidnap Marie and other girls like her. There was a bunch of dudes there and one of them was Solo, he is an acquaintance of mine who just so happens to be one of Scarlett's old lovers. He is about half her age. There was also another young boy there that couldn't have been more than 21. At this point, Scarlett is swimming rather hard (tripping, twacking etc,) on the filters. It can be compared to rolling on extasy or Mollie. And I noticed she has ' that look' and looks at the young kid. ( compared to us. He was a young kid) and she was so fucked up, she couldn't speak. So I said it for her. Because she still thinks I am some lame ass dude. I mean fuck, if you want to go fuck the kid Marie, then you got my permission. And I told the kid , I said , "will you please fuck my girlfriend and make her Happy" . she was wide eyed and wanted too so bad. But the deal was she couldn't leave with him. Well the kid said no, but then once it got dark, he was trying to do some shady shit with her, and I told her, ' I dare you' and him too. Well the little fuckboy was trying to take her and she would have left with him. FUCK THAT, so I bugged out. Lucky I didn't kill that kid. Because she was , like making gestures with this kid that's young enough to be her son. I flipped out and had enough of being second to the fucking people she just met. Like that fucking kid. So , I hadn't had sex with her in over a week. I was so pissed off and sexually frustrated, and just the thought of her fucking some dude instead of me. I was super hurt. I hit her foot With the same baseball bat that solo had gotten hit in the head with. Yeah, our once peaceful hill was now a full-on, fighting hilltop. She knew she had fucked up, and I was so fed up with the fucking around on me that I was in a hurt, angry , ready to fucking kill somebody mood. The games and flirting with every guy were over. If you love me then don't go fucking flirting with other dudes. Well , she left down the mountain, and I didn't even bother to chase her. 'Fuck that bitch', I thought. And almost immediately regretted what I had said and done. I stayed up on the hill alone and in a severe state of craziness and lonesomeness. She thinks its a fucking game, but that is the same as cheating. But she denies it, even when she gets caught red handed. She'll say it was someone else, or some fucked- off conspiracy theory. But what she doesn't realize is I know more about life and girls like her than she ever will. So, I said fuck it all and went to the river to make some shit with my other buddy and try and find some one else ( female), To get over her and heal my heart that she was slowly shredding to pieces.

I was at the river and still everyday looked and thought that Scarlett Marie would, someday come and be with me, and just stop fucking being around other dudes. Its not cool Marie. How would you feel, if the man you were madly in love with, just goes into a tent with some fucking random girl he just met. And then tells you something like, 'oh, I was just showing her my necklace', or some shit like that. Because you have done it more than a few times. If im lying then you're going to hell. But you see, my love for her is so fucking strong, she could do anything to me and I would still love her. As you will soon see...

When I say kidnap, I don't mean ' kidnap' in the traditional sense. Like , some of these chicks out here they want to be kidnapped. Kidnapped, as in they stay at your spot, and do all your shit and usually steal something before they just leave you. Some girls just get so spun out and get hot shotted by one of the sickos that do that shit. Remember, someone mentioned they thought someone did it to Scarlett Marie? Yeah, they probably did. She probably thought they were cool, and then they hotshotted her. And then I meet her when she's all fucked up crazy. Yeah, I made it known and people didn't like me for that. Because, I really did want her to get to see her kids. Fuck, we were supposed to have a modern family, but her kids father is such a fucking douche-fag . This dude is such a pussy boy. "Call the Cops", yeah, he's one of them. But the worst kind of cop caller. Because he actually fabricates stories and makes things appear on paper that never happened, and then gives that shit to the cops. Yeah, I didn't realize this until it was too late. I'll get to that part after this gap in time , when I didn't hear or see Scarlett Marie for almost two months.

[minato-division01]

Meari's Thoughts on Shizuoka Division

Hojo Kanon

"Damn, another Chuohku scientist that went rogue? How the hell does Chuohku keep losing these people? I mean, its a wonder they even have a science department with all the scientists that are leaving that place. ...But then again, looking at this crazy chick here, maybe their science department didn't lose much. I mean, I know I talk shit about Nadya being crazy, but... no offense to her, but I don't think she holds a candle to 'Ms. Crazy' over here. Damn, what the hell did they do to her...?"

Aichi Reika

"...Is it bad to say that I dedicated a song to this woman called, 'Black Widow'? I mean, come on. A woman who has multiple husbands that all somehow or other end up dead, but she comes out ahead? I wouldn't be surprised if there's a mystery novel out there about that. But besides that, I don't have much against this woman. Like Nadya mentioned, if she's smart enough to get away with murdering her spouses for money and the police haven't caught her yet, then congrats. More power to her. I just hope she has a back-up plan cause rich, old guys are kind of a dying breed in this day and age."

Kito Sakura

"Huh, a female Yakuza. That's new. Only Yakuza I can recall are both Albino. And she's in charge of her own family too. That's definitely worthy of respect. Just hope she's careful about where she sends her men too. If they're here to take in the sights and sounds of Minato, then by all means, come on in. Anything else though, and the door is back the way you came."

Silent Tragedy

"'Silent Tragedy'? ...Isn't there a band by that name? ...Or maybe not a band, but a song? I don't know, I know it has to do with music. But anyway, I question exactly how these three met each other. I mean, besides having a large body count under their belts, they don't have much in common. Although, you could say the same about us. ...Oh well, I look forward to seeing them at the D.R.B."

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

[ao3snowbutterfly]

I feel like people should be aware of this, so I'm sharing it.

I'm rewatching S4 V1 w/ my dad who is watching for the first time. He's liking it, but he has edgy nicknames for the characters. Such as:

Jonathan: Burnout

Argyle: Burnout's friend or Long-hair

Will: Burnout's brother (IDK he bases a lot of people off Jonathan)

Mike: Dweeb

El: Crazy Chick

Nancy: Burnout's Girlfriend

Robin: Robin (IDK why she is the exception)

Steve: Robin's Friend

Hopper: Big Dude

Murray: Weird Guy

Joyce: Spazzy Woman (Not meant offensively at all. He quite likes her)

Dustin: No Teeth Dude. (During this season he pointed out 'he has teeth!')

Lucas: Guy with those assholes (meaning Jason and that crew)

Max: The Redhead

Eddie: Creepy Dude (From the fact he's like 20 and still in highschool)

Chrissy: Dead Cheerleader Chick

Enzo: Creepy Bastard

Owens: Good Evil Scientist

Fred: Annoying Little Shit

Angela: Crybaby Bitch

We're half way through right now, so there might be more.

He also said that Burnout and Dweeb remind him of 70s rockstars, which is fair.

[benryphobic]

i don't talk about darnold like i should so here's some hcs

hes so normal. he also says crazy bullshit without breaking eye contact or stuttering

in his early 40s

he's bisexual! not really interested in the dating game tho, so it doesn't matter to him much

used to have a cute lil mustache and a high top when he was younger

he probably starts a streaming channel! he gets a little bit of an audience bc he's so neutral about saying the funniest shit ever, n has apretty good commentary.

plus people like that a 40 year old man is pretty hip with the times LMAO

watches anime. sorry.

(he likes one piece, naruto, and jojo. benry shows him obscure bullshit too)

likes horror movies! hes kind of a pussy with irl gore, but the fake gore is Fascinating. mostly with how they make it look so nasty

also really likes chick flicks! hates rom coms tho

has a prosthetic leg! it just also happens to be a rocket boot :)

dresses pretty nicely! sweaters, turtlenecks, long sleeve shirts, etc. think of a 60 year old English teacher

jacked as *hell* tho

(he once took off his sweater vest with only a tank top underneath, and Boy did the science team try not to stare)

likes all kinds of music, but i associate him with r&b and 80s pop. hyperpop hurts his old ass ears but he actually likes it too

his back always fucking hurts lmao get this dude a chiropractor

is heavily in denial post res cas. everybody is, to be fair, theyre all like welp. back to normal! *has extreme mental issues*

he specifically got really bad anxiety and ptsd. feels bad about it bc he feels he didn't go thru much, but is always assured that uhm, dude, that was an apocalypse

kind of a homebody! just conducting his own (probably not safe) tests, playing tf2, maybe watching some nerdy ass tv show or tv original movies

post res cas tho, he kinda wants to explore more? or be anywhere that isn't his new apartment

he goes hiking, but finds it hurts his leg. he still likes the view on top of a mountain tho, even if it is hot as hell in new mexico

finds that he likes to grill, specifically bbq and carne asada. hes good at it too. if darnold says "hey i have leftovers" literally everyone rushes over to get them first lmao

just a friendly dude in general. just a guy. very handsome, very nerdy, kind of a mad scientist who acts like a normal person

[renthebarbarian]

Sometimes a family can be a crazy chick with a gun and her bisexual half-angel sister and the half-angel’s lesbian cop wife and a vampire cowboy from the 1800s and a gay X-Files scientist and some kid they found in an abandoned warehouse.

God, I’m gonna miss Wynonna Earp.

[uenodivision]

Aranai's Thoughts on Shizuoka Division

Hojo Kanon

"...So, is this a thing now? Do all Chuohku scientists go nuts after leaving that place, or what? I mean, there's the creepy spider lady from Shinagawa, the snake-like woman from Minato, and now we have a deranged psychotic in Shizuoka. Like seriously, is forfeiting your sanity a requirement for them or something?

"...Well, whatever. She can do whatever she wants in her crazy world. As long as she stays far away from me and mine here in Ueno, we'll have no problems."

Aichi Reika

"This chick is the reason why I don't care much for the upper class. I mean, that prick from Aoyama is about as close to arrogance as I can take. And if you heard stories about this chick and the fact that she supposedly gets richer after each of her husbands dies, then you'd understand what I mean.

"Speaking of which, I hear she and that prick have some sort of grudge against each other, which is kinda surprising. I thought all the rich stick together cause money is what binds them. Guess I was wrong. Oh well. Watching them beat the crap out of each other should be entertaining. I'll be sure to bring some popcorn along for the show."

Kito Sakura

"Ugh, another Yakuza member. I'd have respect for her, but after dealing with that white-haired bastard from Yokohama, I hate anyone who even has dealings with those guys. So this chick is on the list of people I don't care for. And I'll say this right now: if I catch any of your little goons here in Ueno trying to weasel in on my territory, they're coming back to you in boxes. You've been forewarned, bitch."

Silent Tragedy

"A psychotic madwoman, a wannabe 'black widow', and a Yakuza boss. From what I've heard, Boss-Lady has made it her mission to bring these three to justice. I've got nothing against them... for now. But as I stated earlier, if they try to make moves against my city, they're going to pay for it. And that's not a threat or a promise, it's just a natural fact."