#in my science era i guess

[llannasvsp]

In lieu of me encouraging people to study dominant and recessive genes in terms of explaining Lloyd's hair color, I've made a punnett square to try and help break it down.

In order for blonde hair (which is the recessive gene) to show in the offspring of two parents who have the phenotype (observable characteristic) of brown hair, both parents would need to be carrying the phenotype for blonde hair, making their genotype (genes that can be passed to the next generation) Bb. As shown in the graph, "B" stands for brown hair, which is the dominant gene. "b" stands for blonde, which is recessive. The punnett square shows how these genes/alleles work together and which phenotype they produce. Since Garmadon and Misako would both have the Bb genotype, their offspring, Lloyd, has a 25% chance of having the phenotype of blonde hair.

This probably makes no sense BUT hopefully this helped anyone if they're confused on how Lloyd can genetically have blonde hair.

[ratsarecute4]

So, I attend college online (yay for chronic illness /s) and I take a lot of science classes. They do the labs by sending out the materials to you. Now I have a problem where I have three pairs of lab goggles, with more to come. See, I already owned one pair to begin with, and then I got more from by microbiology class, and now more from my chemistry class. And next semester I should be expected two more pairs of lab goggles for chem 2 and botany

When will this madness end? One pair of lab goggles is all you need but I am now amassing a collection with which I have no idea what to do

[henry7931]

Too Bad For Chad

Poor Chad… when it came time to pick a partner in Chemistry, he made sure to pick the biggest nerd in the class. But no one could have predicted the accident that happened.

You see, right across the hall at his University—

The science department was working on an early experiment to transfer one’s thought to another human. Although all it took was for one of the professors to trip over a wire…

He bumped right into the machine which switched it to its max power and knocked the ray gun directly point at Chad and his lab partner Allen. What are the odds?!?

Well as one would imagine this could be a huge lawsuit, that is if Chad had anything proof of the incident.

You see Allen, is one smart cookie. He saw his opportunity of keeping Chad gorgeous body and took it.

That day, as Chad in Allen’s body began to scream and yell at everyone around him. Allen sat quietly observing the situation. And when asked about the incident by the university he denied everything.

He told them that he felt bad for ‘Allen’ that he seemed like he was going through a lot.

This all happened about a month ago, so how are they doing? Well let’s hear directly from them.

Allen:

Being lab partners with Chad was and is the best thing that ever happened to me. And I feel bad for him one bit!

I’ve dealt with meatheads like Chad my entire life, being pushed around and bullied. I’ve even envied and lusted after guys like him. But now I get to be him. Plus I still have my brains.

Since I’ve became Chad I’ve started to turn his GPA in the right direction, I’ve learned I’m now handsome enough to get away with just about anything, and I get to live out all of my horny fantasies.

With this body’s power and my brains I feel like I can do anything. Especially hook up with any guy on campus.

That’s the thing, all I have to do is turn on the charm with some handsome guy. I already know he’s into me before I make a move. I can tell when someone’s checking me out because I used to do the same thing.

I guess you could say I’m going through my hoe era right now. I’ve probably hooked up with half the guys on campus, including the “straight” ones.

But man, nothing beats a nice jerk session in this bod.

I’ll jerk off before going to sleep just gooning over my massive stinky feet.

I’ll beat one out in the shower right after a work out just hollering up a storm! And I don’t care who hears or sees me.

Like the other day, I was enjoying myself and my roommate popped in and couldn’t believe what he walked in on. I was licking every inch of these size 11 feet while pumping my 10” inch thick dick. But I didn’t stop, I just kept looking up at him and said, “enjoying the show?”

He tried to say something to me out of pocket but I made sure to put him in his place.

He’s now my personal toy, I let him worship my body when I get home. And he loves it!

At the end of the day, I’m still that nerdy gay guy deep down. But I have all of the looks and the power! 😈

[olderthannetfic]

Ok. Dumb question incoming, but I'd much have a 'conversation' than try to read fanlore or watch video essays or something because I want to hear individual people's contributions.

Why Star Trek?

Don't get me wrong - I like the franchise! I'm not super duper familiar with it, but I do enjoy the bits and pieces that I do know. But I am wondering why that in particular is hailed as the grandmother of all fandoms? Obviously people were fannish before Trek, but I don't think anyone can deny the impact that OG Trekkies had on fic, zines, and eventually on the internet.

I know that it's always been popular and well-liked, but it's not as if there was NO SUCH THING as popular culture/fan culture before that (I mean, come on, the term "parasocial" predates the first Star Trek episode by 10 years!) . Was it just a perfect mix of timing + popularity + etc? Is there something in particular about ST that "hit different" than other series at the time? Or is the fandom really really just that mighty and it's almost "luck" in a way? I guess I'm wondering what particular dominoes cascaded in a line in order for Star Trek to have the impact on fandom that it does today.

or am I wrong? were there just-as-big fandoms before and I simply overhype Trekkie power in my head / happen to see more talk of that than I do of other fandoms? It could definitely be a social circle bias thing.

Ugh. Asking OTNF why Star Trek is so important to fandom history feels very much like asking a Russian History major why War & Peace is so important to literature - hence why I warned you that it'd be a dumb question! But I am just so damn curious what sort of crack was in early ST fandom that made it SO widespread and SO strong.

Like, I guess the TLDR is: what was particularly 'different' about Star Trek, either as a fandom or as a franchise or both, that made it Theeeeee OG fandom, rather than something, like, i dunno, LOTR or the earliest versions of Marvel/DC comics or General Hospital or something else like that?

--

I await the hordes of angry Man from U.N.C.L.E. fans eager to prove that they were first.

And, no, it wasn't that popular. Hence the aggressive Save Our Show campaign and explosion of fan culture when it ended after three seasons.

Part of the answer to your question is that there were like three things on TV at the time. What big fandoms? 'Parasocial' was about non-subculture people feeling warmly towards news anchors or hosts of variety shows or something, wasn't it?

LOTR got rediscovered in the 60s or 70s from what I hear, but science fiction and fantasy books were for fringe weirdoes. SFF was not mainstream for the most part. There are a bunch of History of Book SF Fandom things on Youtube, and you should consult them on the complex role of LOTR in that space. LOTR wasn't a mainstream thing until there were live action movies a billion years later.

The key about Star Trek is that it was a hit with the pre-existing book SF crowd. They were an organized subculture. Some of their favorite writers wrote episodes. Other shit on TV was for people who did not form subcultures in that way. Other shit for SF fans had an audience 1/10,00th the size.

MFU was insanely popular. Illya Kuryakin was the heartthrob of a certain era of girl and inspired many a Russian major. (Seriously, there are soooo many Russia-boos of a certain age who probably still have a poster of him somewhere.) The actor set a record for fanmail. The show may have more influence on fandom history than we think now, but it also didn't rerun the way Trek did, at least in some eras, and it didn't have sequel series in a franchise. I'm always finding 2015 movie fans shocked that there's a still extant and semi-active fandom—or even shocked that the movie is based on something.

Starsky & Hutch was also hugely important and is the moment slash fandom and "Media Fandom" really split from book SF fandom. As Trek fans moved on to buddy cops, they were into a completely mainstream show but in a non-mainstream way. Trek was an awkward bedfellow at SF cons, but S&H just didn't fit at all.

Of course, while Trek is the grandma of AO3 type fandom, don't forget that a shitton of modern fans who are doing "research" just look at the same few sources. Enterprising Women is great and all, but even other fans of the same stuff are like "Oh, that was just X's friends. Where's [thing] and [thing] and [thing]?" Ditto Textual Poachers and the other scant early sources that people think have academic weight.

While Trek would still be central, the picture of what was going on in the late 60s-early 80s would look a bit different if you just found a bunch of 70-something nerds and asked them than if you regurgitate other people's research, you know?

If you want an idea of what else was going on in SF fandom back in the day, check out Galactic Journey, where they roleplay that it's 55 years ago and review SF things "as they come out".

If you want to understand MFU, here's a vid of Illya:

--

What say you, readers?

What have acafandom and fandom history and meta left out?

[trilobitepunch]

Request (should you choose to accept it): draw one of the boys from your AU with their counterpart from an AU that you personally enjoy?

This took me longer because at first I couldn't make up mind about which AU to add in and then I pulled a Donnie and started overthinking the question, ahaha...

Borrowing Future!Donnie from @kathaynesart 's Replica series because I love his design and might have a thing for hoods I guess, can you tell and this story and art- Amaaazing! Go check it out if you haven't!!

With him is Sannan from my (STILL UNNAMED, I am terrible at names) AU thing. Little yokai boi lives in the pre-tech era of Edo, Japan where the most he's been able to study are Western-influenced sciences and nothing more complicated than watches and Karakuri puppets, so all this shiny stuff is fascinating and new to him. A non-techy Donnie must be blowing big!Donnie's mind.

Alternatively I was going to draw him with Omega but I don't think 'megs would appreciate Sannan trying to pry open his screen to see what makes it tick or if there is an actual head inside.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Try to Guess Which of Them Hoid is Imitating

As requested by anon. :)

It's like charades, only it's Hoid alone doing the acting, and also he's allowed to speak. He's gonna be imitating various Cosmere characters, and let's see if the other characters in that novel can guess who he is!

1. Stormlight Archive

Hoid: [face settles into a deep scowl] Hoid: [crosses his arms] Hoid: Bah! Shallan & Adolin (simultaneously): Kaladin!!! Hoid: Correct! Kaladin: H-HEY

2. Mistborn Era 1

Hoid: [smiles] Hoid: [smiles] [Smoke begins to rise up around him, as though everything is burning down. Faintly, in the distance, the sounds of screams] Hoid: [smiles] Vin (already crying): K-Kelsier! Hoid: [motions for her to hold on a second] Hoid: [punches himself square in the face] Vin: ... Hoid: Yup! That's Kelsier!

3. Tress of the Emerald Sea

Hoid: [crouches down, begins speaking to a member of the audience as though already in mid-conversation] ...and anyway, that's why I think we will make very good friends. Hoid: Wait! Hoid: Is that something dangerous I see? Hoid: I simply MUST make it my new hobby! Charlie, delighted: It's Tress!

4. Stormlight Archive

[Hoid, lying very still on the ground] [Hoid, lying very still on the ground] Adolin: Uh...Sadeas? Kaladin: Are you one of the bridges? Syl: You're a rock!! [Hoid, lying very still on the ground] [Gradually, the sound of ocean waves come from...somewhere. The temperature seems to drop. People's breath fog the air. Still, Hoid lies very motionless on the ground] Shallan: [sighs] Shallan: Stick. Hoid: Correct!

5. Elantris

Hoid: O-Oh? Am I not allowed to talk in charades? Hoid: I'm very sorry, Your Majesty! As a simple woman, all I know how to do is eat hot chip and lie. Iadon: Ugh, Sarene. Hoid: [fixes his hair using only the middle fingers on both hands] Hoid: So smart, Your Majesty!

6. Mistborn Era 2

Hoid: [Pulls his hand up from his hip with his fingers making a gun shape] Wax: Well, that could be literally anyone. Wayne: 'Cept me. Wax: Except you. Hoid [Pulls up his other hand from his hip with his fingers making a gun shape. Now he has two guns] Wax: Again, that could be anyone. Hoid: [Mimics putting both guns back. Reaches down as if to pull something from his belt, which he mimics swigging. Grabs the air in front of his forehead as if adjusting a hat] Wax: Okay, okay, we get it! It's me! Steris: No, no, I want him to keep going.

7. Warbreaker

[Hoid lies half reclined, one arm dangling, mimicking the lazy eating of grapes] Siri: Okay! We know it's one of the Returned! Lightsong: That could be literally any of us. [Hoid, slowly pulls up the hem of his skirt until his thighs are exposed. Winks] Blushweaver: Yes! It's ME! Siri: W-Why am *I* blushing??

8. Stormlight Archive

Hoid: [raising both arms to the heavens] SCIENCE! Navani: Raboniel! Raboniel: Navani! [They look at each other] Hoid: ... Hoid: Uh....SCIENCE and LOVING MY DAUGHTER! Navani: Raboniel!! Raboniel: Navani!! [They look at each other] Hoid: Hmmm...SCIENCE and LOVING MY DAUGHTER and KILLING GOD!!! Navani: ...You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

[Bonus!]

9. ???

[Ulaam walks onto the stage. He waves. He's wearing bedazzled, tiny red shorts, a flowered shirt, and mismatched socks with sandals] Ulaam: [opens his mouth to speak] Hoid: [tackles him off the stage]

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch. 2.

word count: 4,3K

summary: Reader is a second-year science student that had just switched schools to escape the suffocating love of her parents and Viktor is being a black cat all the way through. A 12-chapter story of two emotionally problematic people falling in love through acknowledging each other's imperfections.

author's note: This is less introspective than my other fics, attempts to be lighter and funny at times. World is completely made up, even though contains some real things in it. Viktor's disability is present, but decreased (no back brace and breathing affliction). I will soon create fic masterlist and pin it on my blog and will be linking chapters with future updates.

Cross-posted on AO3 alongside POV3rd Person Version

—

You sat wedged between a hot, doe-eyed girl named Sue who was going to be your roommate, and some skinny guy whose name you hadn’t caught—Callum, maybe? Your friend Hale had ditched you to join his theatre group on the other side of the campus, leaving you to navigate introductions with your new course mates alone. Changing universities mid-degree was stressful, but staying back in Sheffield with your parents had been worse. So, yes, it had been the right call. A very good call, you reminded yourself.

Camden had a tiny science department with a handful of brilliant professors. It wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t Sheffield. And it had Hale, who had convinced you to come down south with promises of freedom, self-discovery, and the chance to reclaim your status as the unstoppable friend power-couple you’d been in high school (not that you had mattered at all back then, of course).

The room buzzed with overlapping conversations and sporadic bursts of laughter, the faint thrum of inoffensive pop music humming from a Bluetooth speaker in the corner. The second-year welcome party was more like a casual gathering, hosted in one of the university lounges with just enough couches and harsh fluorescent lighting to feel awkwardly cozy. You sipped from a plastic cup of lukewarm cider, your attention flitting between three different conversations happening around you.

To your left, Jayce was in the middle of an animated retelling of how he’d nearly blown up a lab during his undergrad years. His booming laugh and sweeping hand gestures kept everyone engaged, even those who had only half-heard the setup to his punchline. You found yourself smiling despite having missed most of the story. You vaguely recalled his introduction earlier in the evening—Jayce, one of the TAs for your course this year. From Sheffield, like you. Big personality, bigger grin.

On your right stood Viktor, the second TA, his hands resting lightly on his cane. He exuded a quieter kind of presence, his sharp amber eyes scanning the group with an air of detached curiosity. He’d joined the circle mid-conversation, offering the occasional dry comment that earned chuckles from those paying attention.

“You’re training to be a geneticist?” Viktor asked, leaning slightly toward you. His accent caught you off guard—it was Slavic, you thought, though you weren’t confident enough to guess further. You made a mental note to ask him about it one day.

You blinked, surprised to be addressed. “Oh, yeah,” you replied quickly, nodding. “Second year. Still deciding whether I want to focus on medical or research applications, though.” You paused. “You’re in bioengineering for your PhD, right?”

“Correct,” Viktor said with a slight upward quirk of his lips. “It is refreshing to meet someone undecided. Most claim they will change the world before finishing their first term.”

You laughed nervously, unsure if he was mocking you or just making an observation. “Yeah, I’m saving that for third year.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his expression hovering somewhere between amused and sceptical. “Ambitious,” he said dryly.

Before you could respond, Jayce turned toward you, pulling the group’s focus with him. “What about you? Have you had Professor Albin yet? He’s a character, let me tell you. Loves his experiments more than his students.”

You grinned, drawn into the shift in energy. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about him. But wait, is he the one who smokes under the laboratory fume hood?”

Jayce snapped his fingers in mock recognition. “Exactly! Last year, he almost caused the whole building to evacuate because he didn’t realise the hood was broken.”

The group erupted into laughter. You found yourself relaxing, leaning into the easy rhythm of the conversation. You missed the glance Viktor cast your way, faintly bemused.

He cleared his throat, a subtle gesture that drew only a few eyes. “Albin may be forgetful, but he has published groundbreaking work on single-cell RNA sequencing. One might forgive the eccentricities, no?”

The remark hung in the air for a beat, slightly out of sync with the conversation’s playful tone. Jayce, quick to keep the mood light, grinned and waved it off. “True, but it doesn’t make his lectures any less painful.”

The laughter resumed, bubbling back up with ease. You smiled, but something about Viktor’s expression lingered in your mind—a subtle tightness around his mouth, almost imperceptible but impossible to ignore once noticed.

You thought to say something, maybe steer the conversation back toward him, but Jayce was already pulling your attention with another question, his energy impossible to resist. The moment slipped away, and with it, that fleeting glimpse of something unreadable in Viktor’s eyes.

The party dispersed shortly after midnight, and you went to find Hale for the promised cigarette and your earlier-agreed session of impression comparing. You spotted him by the fountain, his tall figure hunched over in his velvet vest, already smoking.

“My darling!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide in a theatrical flourish. “So, spill the tea—how was it? Anyone hot? Anyone you already hate? Good decision? Bad decision?”

“Uh… Can I bum a fag? I forgot my pack in the room.” You patted your pockets distractedly as Hale swept you into his arms, spinning you around dramatically. He placed his own cigarette between your lips with a flourish.

“I’m going to burst if you don’t tell me right now. Your mother already hates me—I need to know you don’t hate me too!”

“Joanne is going to be fine,” you replied, rolling your eyes but letting yourself be twirled in your exaggerated tango. “She already sent me, like, a thousand affirmations for my ‘new beginnings.’”

Hale dipped you low, grinning. “And?”

“I… don’t know,” you sighed as he held you in the dramatic pose. “It’s a bunch of nerds, like me, so I guess I’ll be alright.”

Hale gave you a pointed look, his brow furrowing. “You are not just some nerd. You are brilliant, and they are not ready for you.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his voice gentle but firm.

“Alright, alright,” you muttered, waving him off with a small smile. “Full report is as follows: Sue, my roommate—hot and completely oblivious about it. Nobody else really standing out. It’s an even mix of guys and girls.” You started pacing along the edge of the fountain, ticking details off on your fingers. “We’ve got two TAs: one would make you drool, and the other one would make you run for your life.”

“I have to meet them both,” Hale declared with a dramatic flourish, grinning mischievously.

Hale twirled you one last time before pulling you upright with exaggerated care. “You’re lucky I’m such a gracious dance partner, darling,” he said, letting you go with a flourishing bow.

You laughed and brushed your hair out of your face. “Oh, you’re too kind. I didn’t know you’d start your evening in full drama mode.”

Hale smirked, looping his arm through yours as you strolled around the fountain. The air was crisp, the faint glow of the nearby building lights reflecting off the water. “I’m always in drama mode. You know this. Now, tell me—what’s the plan tomorrow? More parties? Some secret nerd ritual?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your shoulder. “Yes, we are totally raising someone from the dead tomorrow,” you smirked. “The TAs are swinging by each room tomorrow to hand out schedules and do a quick orientation. Viktor mentioned it tonight in passing.”

Hale gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Viktor, you say? Is that the one who would make me drool or the one who’d send me running for my life?”

You laughed. “The latter. He’s got this whole ‘intimidating genius’ vibe going on, but I can’t tell if he’s just really smart or if he practices those broody stares in the mirror.”

“Oh, I have to meet this man,” Hale said with a gleam in his eye, spinning you around. “And what about the one who’d make me drool?”

“That’s Jayce,” you replied. “Big, loud, charming. Like a golden retriever who also happens to be jacked and into science.”

Hale pretended to swoon, leaning on you for support. “Be still, my heart. This place might actually be worth sticking around for.”

You smirked, brushing ash off your borrowed cigarette. “Speaking of sticking around, how was your night? Any tragic love stories waiting to happen?”

Hale shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Same old faces, same old dramas. Nothing new. Nobody around here who could really crush my heart, but you know me—I’ll eat anything when I’m starved.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s the spirit. Settle for mediocrity!”

“It’s a survival skill, darling,” Hale replied, grinning as he plucked the cigarette from your fingers and took a long drag.

You walked in silence for a moment, your steps slow and unhurried. You glanced at the fountain, its gentle ripples catching the light, and exhaled a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I think it was a good decision,” you said softly, breaking the quiet.

Hale raised an eyebrow, handing the cigarette back to you. “Camden? Or letting me drag you here tonight?”

“Both,” you admitted, a small smile playing at your lips. “Thanks for making me come. For once, I actually feel… scared of something. Not stuck.”

Hale’s expression softened, and he threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “That’s because you’re brilliant, and the world doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into the gesture, taking one last drag of the cigarette before flicking it into the fountain.

“Here’s to not being stuck,” Hale declared, lifting an imaginary glass.

“To not being stuck,” you echoed, laughing as the two of you turned and headed back toward the dorms.

***

The sound that woke you and Sue was impossible to describe—a cacophony of metal being violently banged together, accompanied by a high-pitched whining noise. Then came loud banging on the door.

A soft groan came from Sue’s bed as she rolled out, stretching her limbs before sinking onto the floor and curling into a foetal position. “I think it’s the TAs,” she said weakly, yawning.

You decided to be brave, though your first instinct was to shove a pillow over your head and wait for the monster to go away. Dragging yourself out of bed, your head pounding from the cider and cigarettes you’d had with Hale the night before, you trudged to the door. Your expression was one of pure pleading as you opened it and asked, “Is this really how you guys want to start this relationship?”

In front of you, Jayce froze mid-motion, one frying pan held in each hand. Viktor stood just behind him, clutching a bicycle horn and smirking mercilessly.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Jayce boomed, lowering the frying pans slightly but keeping his grin firmly in place, like a weapon. “Ready to seize the day?”

You squinted, shielding your eyes from the hallway light as though it were a personal attack. “Seize the day? I’m about to seize your frying pans and toss them out the window.”

Jayce laughed, completely unbothered, while Viktor raised the bicycle horn and gave it a sharp honk. “Consider it your wake-up call,” Viktor said smoothly, his smirk deepening. “Promptness is a virtue, no?”

“I’m promptly considering murder,” you muttered, glaring at them both.

Behind you, Sue groaned from her spot on the floor. “I’m not coming out. Tell them I’m dead.”

Jayce leaned sideways to peer into the room. “Good morning to you too, Sue!” he called cheerfully.

“Sod off,” Sue replied, her voice muffled by her arm.

Viktor glanced at Jayce, shaking his head slightly as though disapproving of his partner’s antics. Then he turned his attention back to you. “We are here to distribute schedules and perform a brief orientation,” he said, his tone more measured but no less smug. “You should be grateful. Only the science department students receive such... personal service.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I feel so special. Is banging cookware a requirement of this personal service, or is it just a special treat for us?”

“Just for you,” Jayce said with a wink. “And hey, it worked, didn’t it? You’re awake.”

You sighed, stepping back to let them into the room. “Fine. Come in. But if you touch anything, I’m calling security.”

Jayce sauntered in like he owned the place, plopping the frying pans onto the desk with a loud clang. Viktor followed more quietly, his eyes sweeping the room in a quick, assessing glance. He placed the bicycle horn next to the pans, the absurdity of the scene making you shake your head in disbelief.

“You’re like two chaotic sitcom characters,” you said, rubbing your temples. “And I’m the poor, sleep-deprived protagonist who has to deal with your nonsense.”

Jayce grinned. “I like to think of myself as the lovable goofball.”

“And Viktor’s the straight man?” you guessed, glancing at him.

Viktor’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he handed you a neatly folded piece of paper. “Your schedule,” he said. “I trust you can manage to read it despite your current... condition.” He gave you a once-over and added, “Nice pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself, remembering too late that you were wearing red cotton pants with white hearts and an oversized Nirvana sweatshirt. It was a damn nice set of pyjamas—what was the problem? You snatched the paper from him, your mouth twitching into a reluctant smile despite yourself. “Thanks. I’ll try not to faint from gratitude.”

“Much appreciated,” Viktor replied dryly.

Sue, still sprawled on the floor, finally raised her head and groaned. “Do we at least get coffee with this torture?”

Jayce perked up. “Now that’s an idea! Viktor, we should’ve brought coffee.”

“I am not your barista,” Viktor deadpanned.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the morning starting to chip away at your hangover. “Alright, alright. Give us five minutes, and we’ll join the rest of the poor souls you’ve terrorized this morning.”

“Make it three,” Viktor said, his smirk returning as he turned toward the door.

Jayce followed with a wave. “See you downstairs!”

As the door closed behind them, you turned to Sue, who was now sitting up, her hair a wild mess.

“So,” you said, leaning against the door. “Drool-worthy or run-for-your-life?”

Sue blinked, still half-asleep. “What?”

“The TAs,” you clarified, holding back a grin. “Jayce and Viktor. What’s the verdict?”

Sue rubbed her eyes, yawning. “Jayce is like a golden retriever on caffeine. Viktor... is something else. Sharp. Kinda scary. But, like, in a hot way?”

You snorted, tossing the schedule onto your desk. “I’m just trying to survive their weird buddy cop energy.”

Sue flopped back onto the floor with a groan. “Wake me up when it’s over.”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s never over, Sue. Welcome to Camden.”

***

Orientation and the first classes passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and information overload. By the time the fifth person introduced themselves, you’d already forgotten the first three names. Professor Heimerdinger, perched at the front of the lab like an animated encyclopaedia, launched into an overview of the semester: rules for grades and exams, expectations for in-class behaviour, and a note about optional after-class activities for the particularly ambitious—or masochistic.

You braced yourself for the inevitable repeat classes like chemistry and biophysics, but it didn’t bother you. Repetition wasn’t so bad if you could zone out without missing much.

Jayce and Viktor drifted through the room during the lecture, their presence oddly complementary—one buzzing with boundless energy, the other moving with deliberate precision. They pointed out key locations: lab glass, gloves, coats, goggles, and the cabinets you’d definitely forget the moment you walked out. They handed out maps of the department and listed their office hours. Standard procedure. Functional. Dandy.

When it was finally over, Sue nudged you, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Wanna head to the bar nearby?”

“You want to drink again?” You raised an eyebrow, though her expression hinted at ulterior motives.

Sue tilted her head, all innocence. “Or… maybe I want to go to the bar to spy on our TAs,” she said, her gaze trailing after Jayce and Viktor as they left the room.

You sighed, exasperated but amused. “By my calculations, we have about a week to live before we’re buried in coursework.”

“Exactly! We should enjoy it while it lasts.” Sue clasped her hands together and unleashed the puppy eyes. “Please?” she added, her lower lip quivering with Oscar-worthy conviction.

You rolled your eyes, defeated. “I am genuinely terrified of you. And convinced I’ll never be able to say no to you. Fine. One condition: I get to drag Hale along.”

“Is Hale your hot theatre friend?” Sue’s excitement was palpable, her grin wide enough to make you laugh.

“Yes, and he’s also gay, so don’t get your hopes up. He’ll break your heart,” you warned, pulling out your phone to text him.

“I am desperate for a gay boyfriend, so please drag him along whenever you feel like it,” Sue replied, already on her feet, coat slung over her arm.

Your phone buzzed almost instantly: I know the place – seedy shithole. Be there in no time! Hale’s response sealed the deal. You were officially going to a bar to “spy” on your TAs.

The bar was, indeed, a seedy shithole, but it had a quirky charm. Posters plastered the walls, advertising plays, gigs, and questionable student endeavours. Lamps made of beer bottles cast a dim, golden light, and the furniture was an eclectic mix—like someone had raided every grandmother’s attic in a three-mile radius. A fireplace crackled in one corner, surrounded by mismatched cushions for floor seating, and a jukebox stood proudly by the bar, humming with potential.

You approached the bar with Sue, scanning the menu. Sue’s brows furrowed in confusion as she searched for something that wasn’t beer. The bartender, a man with a weathered face and a disarming smile, leaned in. “What can I do for you, honey?”

Sue’s voice turned soft and sweet, almost like a fairy casting a spell. “Do you have anything… sweet?”

The bartender paused, giving her a look like he’d climb mountains to fetch whatever she wanted. For a moment, you wondered if he might actually run to another bar, buy something sugary, and bring it back. The thought made you chuckle as you watched Sue charm her way to a perfect drink.

“Let me surprise you,” the bartender said, flashing Sue a sweet smile before turning to you. “And for you, darling?”

“I’ll just have a pint, cheers,” you replied, your gaze lingering on the heartwarming interaction between the adorable Sue and the massive, tattooed bartender.

“Ah! Let me get this,” you registered an arm sliding between you and Sue, holding a credit card. “Since we forgot the coffees this morning,” Jayce’s familiar grin soon followed, putting a face to the offering hand.

“I’ll be the one buying drinks for my pookie today,” a strong arm wrapped around your neck and shoulders, and you immediately recognized Hale’s voice from above you. “Let me guess… drool-worthy and”—his eyes shifted toward Viktor—“run-for-your-life?”

“I’ve also been called ‘the straight man,’” Viktor remarked, giving you a questioning look.

“Ah, I can see why,” Hale replied, on the verge of ruining your chances for any semblance of dignity this semester. Then he turned to Sue. “And you must be the hot Sue?”

“Oh my god, did you say that?” Sue squeaked playfully, leaning over to grab your hand. “I think you’re hot too,” she added with a wink.

You wanted to sink deep underground and let the demons of hell swallow you whole.

Waiting for your drink to be poured, you watched Jayce, Sue, and Hale drift toward the fireplace sitting area, Hale’s arm already wrapped around your roommate as they chatted animatedly.

“You seem to have a lot of opinions already formed,” Viktor’s voice came from above your shoulder as he reached for his drink—a vodka on the rocks.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll indeed run for my life,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Is that so?” His tone was smooth, with just a hint of challenge.

“Absolutely,” you replied, leaning in slightly with mock seriousness. “You’re giving off dangerous, 'I’ve got a sarcastic comment for everything' vibes. It's a threat.”

Viktor chuckled, the sound warm and surprisingly disarming. “A threat, huh? I’ll have to be careful then.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes glinting. “Don’t worry. I won’t bite.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile forming at the edge of your mouth. “I wasn’t worried.”

For a moment, you both stood there, the noise of the bar buzzing around you. Viktor’s gaze lingered a moment too long, making you feel slightly off balance. Then, with a casual shrug, he turned back to the group by the fireplace.

“Let’s go join the chaos,” he said nonchalantly, throwing you a brief glance over his shoulder as he walked away.

You followed, still trying to shake the unexpected buzz of the encounter. It was weird how Viktor could throw you off without even trying.

By the time you approached the group, Hale had already charmed Jayce and Sue, effortlessly pulling them into his world with animated tales of his theatre exploits. He gestured enthusiastically, his voice rich with excitement. “So, we’re doing Rocky Horror Picture Show this year for the mid-semester final,” he announced, his theatrical tone drawing everyone in. “We’re looking for actors—are any of you up for it?”

Sue, looking both intrigued and a little unsure, glanced over at Jayce, who was already grinning. “I’m afraid that my singing would have you fail the final, Hale,” Jayce said with a laugh, clearly weighing the possibilities. “I will gladly come and watch, though?”

Hale grinned wider. “I’ll put you in the front row! And Y/N’s been trying to convince me to take on Frank N. Furter’s part, which made me think she’d make a killer Janet.”

At that, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your playful tone cutting through the banter. “Only if I can play Magenta,” you said, tossing your head back slightly. “Otherwise, it's a no-go.”

The group chuckled, but Jayce, who had been half-listening as they continued talking, suddenly perked up. “Wait, hold on. Are you both actually from Sheffield?” He leaned forward slightly, clearly curious.

You smirked, folding your arms across your chest and leaning in, dropping the playful façade for a second. “I don’t have my Pulp T-shirt on me today,” you quipped, “but I can show you my ID?”

Raising an eyebrow, you knew full well that a bit of playful sarcasm could spark a reaction. Viktor, standing just a few steps behind, glanced over at you as your words hit the air. His eyes flicked between you and Jayce, his attention sharpened but still calm, like he was quietly enjoying your back-and-forth with the others.

Jayce laughed, shaking his head. “You really are from Sheffield, aren’t you?”

“Born and bred,” you shot back with a grin, your hands slipping into your pockets. “Don’t let the accent fool you.”

Viktor took a small sip of his drink, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his gaze as he continued to watch you. You had a way of carrying yourself—like you knew how to hold your ground, even when teasing. And now that you had mentioned it, there was a non-Sheffield accent lingering underneath your words.

“Eh, it’s not a place for stars like us,” Hale mused, giving your thigh a playful squeeze.

“My darling, brilliant man, you know all I wish for you is to never step foot in that shithole again and rise to stardom so fast the bystanders get their eyes burned,” you replied with a dramatic flourish, your grin wide and teasing.

Jayce laughed, raising his beer. “Well, before anyone dies burned by Hale’s halo, I guess we could all drag along back for Christmas together?”

“Jayce, if there is anything to drag by then, be my guest,” you responded with a quiet clank of your glass against Jayce’s.

“Oh yes, Christmas is a must. I have to bring a peace offering to Y/N’s mother for stealing her precious daughter away from the family nest,” Hale said, making an exaggerated frightened face when mentioning your mum, Joanne.

“Hale, repeat after me: Joanne is going to be fine. It’s about time she grows up.”

***

Jayce and Viktor walked down the dimly lit street, the buzz of the bar still echoing in their steps. The night air was cool, and the muffled sounds of laughter and music faded behind them as they made their way back to the dorms.

“I love freshmen,” Jayce said, a grin tugging at his lips.

Viktor shot him a sidelong glance. “That’s disturbing.”

“Come on, they’re cute.” Jayce shrugged; his tone playful. “Good idea with the morning orchestra, by the way. Got them all riled up.”

Viktor’s lips twitched at the memory. “The girls sure have their eyes on you.” He looked at Jayce, raising an eyebrow. “You planning on visiting Y/N’s family for Christmas already?”

Jayce laughed. “I don’t know, man. I have a feeling her eyes are actually on you.”

Viktor paused mid-step, narrowing his eyes. “She literally called me 'the straight man' and the 'run-for-your-life-one.' I highly doubt it.”

Jayce nudged him with his elbow. “You know nothing about girls, Viktor.” Viktor gave him a sceptical look, but Jayce’s grin only grew wider, and for once, Viktor couldn't help but wonder if Jayce was right.

[avelera]

I feel like, between the two of them, Jayce is the more cautious/safety minded. My number one reason being that he worked on hextech for years without being discovered, even with its tendency to blow up. Viktor was the one who wanted to “crank it” after all :p

Granted, neither of them are as good at lab safety as they SHOULD be. And they definitely encourage each other’s worst habits there. But if anyone reminds the other to take precautions, I think it’s Jayce. Especially if he’s concerned for Viktor’s health.

LOL, I agree. My brother who does some lab work watched Arcane with me and he literally turned to me at one point and was like, "These guys really don't care about lab safety, huh?"

Even if Jayce wasn't cautious before the explosion (I mean, the state of that apartment), I could see him being the more cautious one now in the hopes of not testing the Council's patience with a repeat performance. (ha. ha.... definitely wouldn't want something hextech related damaging the whole city again, huh, Arcane season 2...)

But I think even Jayce being the more cautious one is seriously like... pot calling kettle black. He asks if Viktor knows what he's doing and is that thing safe while he's blasting the room with Hexcore energy and Viktor's like, lol no, and Jayce is like :( well carry on, I guess

I mean, can you imagine if the Hexcore had been putting off radiation, or x-rays? We actually don't know that it didn't! These guys are absolutely from the Edison era of mad science, they're lucky they don't have cancer (maybe?) and it's a miracle they still have eyebrows

[xxsycamore]

❝ The Benefits of Having a Scientist Boyfriend ❞ (ISAAC X READER)

╰┈➤ 💝 Isaac surprises you with a loving gesture that will also greatly relieve your pain.

Isaac Newton x Menstruating!Reader • rating: G • tags: Menstruation; Period Cramps; Established Relationship; Fluff • wordcount: 965 • masterlist

a/n: The author is very bad at every field of science mentioned in this fic and still stubbornly made all of the needed research (plus historical research to see how possible it is for our Isaac to put this together in his current time era) while fighting cramps of her own..... Hope you enjoy and also I hope I didn't get my facts (too) wrong! If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, may I also offer: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart, Theo, Leonardo, Sebastian, Arthur (NSFW), Vincent 💕(All fics in this series share the same opening scene!)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than halfway done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appears as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look at the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly, moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

“Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

***

You weren't aware that your inner cry for help was able to send telepathic signals to your boyfriend, but you witness the miracle of him entering through the door in the very next second.

"Isaac!" You rise to a seating position as the sight of him briefly distracts you from your pain - a big mistake on your part, but before you can ask him what brings him here, the next cramp stabs you in the guts and only a painted sound leaves your lips. "Oww…"

"Are you alright? You were curled up on the couch too."

You've already instinctively placed your hand on your lower belly and it doesn't escape Isaac's gaze, but you still pretend to be brave about it and refuse to bother him with such a minor inconvenience of yours…

"Maybe I just ate something funny at lunch? You know how it is with Sebas and his fusion cuisine, always trying to live up to everyone's taste, haha…"

Isaac stares blankly at you for a couple of seconds, then he averts his eyes.

"You can just tell me if your period came, you know…"

Was it that obvious?! Maybe Isaac just knows you well enough by now - the thought brings forth a certain warmth within you… no, that's just another cramp.

"Oww owww… fine, you guessed it… Don't scold me, I'll go look for some herbal tea in the kitchen or-"

"No, lie back down." Isaac's unexpected touch changes the focus of your sensory receptors again and your heart flutters by the simple action of him beckoning you to lie down. You oblige, looking at him with large eyes full of curiosity.

"I was just about to go out for today's école lessons but let me bring you something first. Just lie here and be patient, okay? It's going to feel better soon."

Your curiosity only grows as you watch Isaac's back until he fully disappears from sight.

***

When your boyfriend returns you're overcome with the need to sit up and see what he's carrying in his hands, but you follow his advice and remain patient.

"Some time ago when your cramps were bad like that I asked you how you dealt with them back in your era. Since then I have been, uh, working on something. I figured now would be a good time to try it out."

You blink in disbelief when Isaac hands you what looks like a… heating pad, the ones that are typically used as handwarmers in your time.

"You'll have to massage it in order for it to radiate heat, but I hope that still works for you."

"Isaac you- but how-"

"It's nothing too complex. When I heard your explanation I figured it must be caused by an exothermic reaction… I happen to be knowledgeable in thermodynamics too, you know. I just had to put a supersaturated solution of sodium acetate in water together with notched ferrous metal… Simply put, it crystalizes and radiates heat. I'm still catching up with chemistry after beginning my second life here but fortunately, it was easy enough."

Easy enough, he says…

You can't just lie still anymore, so you raise your upper half enough to wrap your arms around Isaac's shoulders… you didn't plan it out exactly like that, but the physicist ends up being dragged down on the couch with you, barely able to prop himself up on one elbow at the very last second. You keep sobbing into his neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so touched by your gesture! I've read about so many invitations that came out of love and-"

Isaac blushes, and he blushes badly. You see the color spreading on his cheeks when he withdraws just a tad more to leave you space to breathe, but he doesn't stand to his feet just yet.

"I guess you can call it that. I'll just be happy as long as it works for you."

Isaac punctuates his words with a chaste caress on the back of your hand which still holds the innovative heating pad. His own warmth leaves you too soon but the artificial one remains - and you find yourself wondering if you can treat it as a reminder of him, when you miss him. Maybe you should tell him that, next time you want to see his cheeks reddening like that again.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[tookishcombeferre]

So spoilers for some thoughts I’ve been drawing together based on today’s panels below the cut.

So, I’ve been having LOADS of fun chatting in the form, but I wanted to distill some of the thoughts that have been bouncing like ping pong balls around my head here on my tumblr.

The first thing I want to discuss is how impressed I am with the lodgers who seem to “get” Jekyll to varying degrees. And, I wanted to call attention some of Jekyll’s intersections.

First of all, Jekyll is NOT English! This important! Jekyll is from Glasgow. Now, when his family got there could be really interesting because, much like the infamous potato famine of Ireland, there was a famine in Scotland as well during the late 1840s and early 1850s that was incredibly brutal.

And, while Glasgow was seen as another wondrous and incredible city during the Victorian era, the Scottish people themselves WERE NOT treated with the same kindness or respect as people who spoke with the proper British accents or were part of proper British culture. Much like in Ireland, the Scottish language and culture was almost eradicated in favor of conformity to English custom. This was really beautifully illustrated at one point when I believe Lanyon comments about how Jekyll could “barely be understood.” I get where Lanyon is coming from, I guess, but you’d think bro-bro would be more empathetic given his own sets of intersections? But, I suppose it also shows how well he has been indoctrinated/ had to assimilate into English culture himself.

The Society is comprised of a BUNCH of immigrants who have, actually, been allowed to retain bits and pieces of themselves and their uniqueness. Despite losing himself to conform, Jekyll has never made it a requirement that the lodgers lose themselves in the balance. Instead, he has built the society as a safe haven. Not JUST for science, but for people.

Second, Jekyll is queer. This is like SUPER important. In Victorian society, this would have been fairly taboo despite the fact that it was the worst kept secret that people dabbled in queerness all the time during the Victorian era. Just like in the modern era, some folks compartmentalize their feelings better than others. Jekyll doesn’t. Period. He sees his attractions as bad and something to be kept secret because, at every turn, that’s what other people are doing.

Lanyon gets married to someone of the opposite gender for saftey. Lanyon has learned the art of blending in because Lanyon *has* to! He may not want to, but, for his safety he has to! We as readers see this. We get it. We see Lanyon’s intersections and the complexity of his character. But, Jekyll doesn’t. He’s human! He’s hurting!And, he doesn’t want to show that because he’s worried about losing Lanyon because of what he’s seen Lanyon do to all the other boyfriends before Jekyll. Pain is one heck of a blinder, and Lanyon and Jekyll are both wearing them as they pull the carriage of the Society side by side.

So, Jekyll swallows his hurt towards Lanyon’s arranged marriage too. He swallows the pain of abandonment. Jekyll doesn’t understand that Lanyon sees them as equals. He can’t. He’s not of the same class as Lanyon or anything. Lanyon has bought him everything, has taught him everything. So, Jekyll has no one to confide in because he constantly feels like he has something to prove because he is not good. No one of his sexuality or place of origin could ever be good in high society! Jekyll has had to learn everything! He feels as though he owes Lanyon everything! How can he not!? So, Jekyll has to be perfect for everyone, to deserve anything, because he has no value. No one of his class, his place of origin, or his sexuality has value in the society in which he lives. His country, his people, and his city are a tourist destination for rich people. He’s a toy for rich people. And, Lanyon doesn’t see that or think that at all! However, Jekyll can’t unsee that. Yet, neither of them communicate, and that is the beginning of the end. (I love these two so much. I understand every single choice both of them made and why they make it. I just want them BOTH to be HAPPY!!!! UGHHH!)

All that to say, Jekyll learns to swallow his emotions. He learns to swallow his culture, his music, and his accent. He learns how to bury his sexuality. He even learns how to swallow his over-eager child-like curiosity because no one wants it.

And, the question is, how far do we go before we really do shatter apart?

It’s clear that the lodgers who really seem to get it are the ones who share some of those same intersections.

Miss Ito and Jasper, who have secrets of their own they wouldn’t share with just anyone. The people who know what it’s like to have a “secret hidden person” living inside them for a long, long time as they try to figure out who to tell, who it’s safe to tell, and if it’s not more loving never to tell? (I say this as a transmasc person who at about a month shy of 30 is still navigating coming out in my entirety to my family.)

You see the lodgers who understand what Jekyll has sacrificed in terms of time and how much they’ve all fought him on everything. They see how tired he is. Given that, I have hope for Lanyon getting it completely. I really do. I have hope for him. He’s a bit lovably thick at times, but I have hope for him. He’ll get it, and he’ll be helpful. He’ll feel guilty as hell. But, I have hope for those two lovable doofuses to finally talk and understand each other.

But, you also see the very valid concerns of the people who just cannot understand those mix of identities because they’ve never had to live them. I see where they see Jekyll putting them in danger. I can see that concern. I understand their fears. So, I don’t have much more to say on that. I see their concerns. I do. But, I also have SO much sympathy for Jekyll and for the Lodgers who see what he’s given them because I’ve been Jekyll. I’ve spent 9 years not telling my family who I am in the fullness of myself because I love ‘em too darn much. I tried to bury my trans, queer, and autistic identities for the sake of my work as a school teacher because my district required me to do so, and it nearly drove myself to the brink of a long term meltdown in the process. It’s hard not to feel sympathy for the Jekyll’s of the world because even if the end results SUCK the intention was, mostly, pure.

And, as for Jekyll himself?

I’ve had this thought brewing for WEEKS. We know that, for the most part, Hyde, the Lodgers, and Rachel (to a greater or lesser extent) see Hyde as an entity unto himself. But, when Jekyll said he wanted to “see Hyde suffer?” Was he really talking to himself because he knows that Hyde is really just him, or, at least, a part of him. We know that Jekyll’s self hatred runs deep. And, if anyone knows that Hyde is Jekyll, it’s Jekyll himself. Edited to add: I now can confirm that Jekyll was aware of this fact. He absolutely knew and was punishing himself. Thanks to further dialogue in the forum with the lovely Puzzle. This theory is a confirmed theory. And, I am sad, but vindicated.

If you read all this, thanks! I needed to flush all my thoughts out coherently in order.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.10

Omg Im so sorry I'm not consistent with posting, it's my nans 70th so I am off this week so I should be able to be a bit better

Also my bestie's bestie and her wife got tickets to the eras tour without me and are going today so I needed Logan to comfort me - hence the posting 🤣🤣🤣

There be hysterectomy talk in this one

<<Part 9 Part 11>> Masterlist

Logan seemed to have fucked most of the anger out of his system. Not all. He was still frosty but he now spoke with you, entertained your small talk. 

“You hungry?” He asked, various fast food joints passing you by. 

“Yeah.” The nurses had given you food but after certain activities you weren't going to pass anything greasy up.

“What’d’ya want?” 

“Literally anything.” You scanned the street and pointed to the McDonalds. “That'll do.” Can't go wrong with a Maccas. 

“What you thinking?” 

“I dunno, do they still do the big n’ tasty?” 

“No.” He pulled into the car park. “You want to go in and look at the menu?”

You did but time was of the essence. “As long as we're quick.” 

“We can be quick.”  He hummed, reversing into a space.

You both hopped out of the jeep and entered the building. It was fairly dull in here. Wasn't McDonald's colourful? Full of children's characters and clowns? It was grey and brown and sleek and boring. 

Logan walked past you and tapped on a screen. It displayed all the different menu categories. 

“McDonalds has screens now?” You laughed in disbelief. You tapped the ‘whats new’ option. Everything had gotten bigger. There were larger nugget meals and burgers and wraps. 

Garlic cheese dippers, selects and all sorts of tasty goodness. 

You chose yourself a triple cheeseburger meal and some nuggets on the side. He picked a chicken box, a Big Mac meal and an array of sides. 

“You sure that's all you can eat?” You joked. 

“Fast metabolism.” 

“Are we going to be able to fit this all in the car?” 

“Yeah.” He pulled out his card. 

“Oh wait!” You quickly pressed the back button and ordered a strawberry milkshake. “A peace offering.” 

Logan's brows pulled an inch but he didn't comment. Laura was yet to have a milkshake, diabolical behaviour on your part. 

Your order number was 66. There were a lot of numbers before you so you perched on the back of an unoccupied booth.

Logan stood straight next to you, as though he was standing guard. So you decided to take advantage of that. Of him watching out for you. Your mind wandering to your ‘new’ body. You could heal. That was crazy. You still didn't understand the science behind that. The TVA had painlessly taken blood, spit and plasma samples. They had checked you for any diseases the Void could offer but the illuminati didn't. How did they have your materials to meld with the regenerative ones? Maybe they didn't. Surely they wouldn't just experiment with you though. Hopefully you weren't a guinea pig. 

“How fast you reckon it's gonna be?” You questioned looking at your wrists. 

“I dunno, twenty minutes max?” Logan turned from the screen to look at you. 

“No.” You giggled. “Healing.”

“Oh.” His eyes flickered to where you had exposed your wrist. “I wouldn't know.” 

You thrust it towards him. “Will you do the honours?” 

“Are you being fucking serious?” He stepped back. “After everything I've said you think I'd just cut you?” 

Okay okay, that was maybe a poor move on your part. “I guess?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ain't happening.” 

You grumbled but formed a field, manipulating it into a thin disc, making sure one edge was paper thin. Even a paper cut could show you.

The slice you had planned didn't work so you had to try again and yes! Well, maybe don't be too happy.. what would Dave say?! 

The cut was teeny. It was about ten centimetres but the little dot of blood told you it wasnt superficial. There was at least an element of actual harm. 

“I hate you.” Logan folded his arms. 

“No you don't, just watch.” 

The cut did nothing.

The two of you just staring, transfixed, at your wrist. 

“Maybe it has to be deepe-ahhh.” 

You could feel a warmth, it was hot. Red hot. And your skin was stretching. You could feel it tying itself together. None of this was really visible but the line did close. You had imagined healing wouldn't hurt... Yet here you were. 

You smirked up smugly. “It works!” 

He huffed but you could see how happy he was. His eyes were lit and his lips had tugged upwards. 

“Brilliant, eh?” 

“It's pretty good.” He kissed your crown. 

~~

You couldn't wait for the lift. Too excited. But taking the stairs wasn't an option so you did in fact wait for the lift. 

Gosh it took fucking forever.

Logan hadn't let you out of his sight, barely leaving to collect the food bags. He was really fucking happy. 

You were going to be safer than ever. 

All he could imagine as you lay in the hospital bed was “what ifs”. He knew it was entirely possible that he could hurt you. He knew he had nightmares and had had to buy a new mattress before due to them. He knew his claws came out when you fucked so what was to stop them when he was scared?

He hated the ideas so he projected them onto the one that had hurt you. 

Laura.

Laura was him. 

He'd never deny that. 

She was a younger version of him. 

She was the one that hurt you and I'm a way that spared Logan. 

She was to blame. 

“Laura!” You called as soon as the elevator doors opened. “Baby?” Jogging towards her door. 

You then halted. 

“What-ho-how do I approach this?” 

Logan didn't know. If he hurt you he'd be fucking distraught. He would kill himself a few times just to feel nothing, to stop the guilt. “Just be yourself?” 

You let out a whine but carried on and knocked at the door. It was open. The pressure of your knock opened the door. 

“Laura?” Your voice was unsure but you pushed the door the rest of the way and entered the dark home. 

The curtains were drawn and the lights were all off making it almost impossible to see her slip through the bedroom door, looking worse for wear, and stick to the corner. 

She was still wearing the clothes she had worn that night. Blood covering her hands and splattered across the mateiral. Her hair was unwashed, her eyes hollow, she hugged herself as she watched you move into the room. 

“Baby.” You raised the cup. “I finally got you that milkshake. It's strawberry. I think chocolate can sometimes be a bit meh so strawberry is the next best.” Why were you rambling?

Laura's eyes flicked to the cup and then to your ever present shadow: Logan. 

“I'm gonna… put it on the table?” You placed the cup in-between the two of you. “It's nice." 

She didn't make any movements.

Let's just cut to the chase then. “Laura, I'm fine.” You gestured to yourself. “In fact Tony Stark was able to alter my genes. I heal like you and Logan.” 

Her brow twitched. 

“Look.” You repeated the field and sliced across your arm. Laura's eyes widened and she gasped at the blood. Ah fuck. Maybe you shouldn't have. “Laura, just watch. It takes a second then it w-orks.” 

She watched your skin sew itself back together and her eyes watered. 

“Baby,” You weren't going to stand there and let her cry. “I'm coming over.”

She didn't back up, letting you stride to her. You immediately pulled her into a bone crushing hug, and she sobbed into your shoulder. 

“I'm fine and I don't blame you.” You repeated over and over again. “I love you.” She clutched onto your back, her body shaking with sorrow. “I don't blame you. You're my baby and I love you.” 

Logan took a step forward causing her to tense. 

“Lo stay back on this one.” You shushed into her ear, threading fingers through her hair. “It's okay Laura, he's not going to do anything.” 

It took a while but she did ease back into the embrace, her tears slowly creasing. 

Laura stepped back, looking at you with fat wet eyes. She gave you the tiniest nod and stepped around you to pick up the milkshake. 

She handed it to you and you took a drink. “I'd never poison you, love.” 

Laura seemed satisfied that you didn't die so took a drink herself. 

You could see the thoughts zooming through her mind. It was cold. Thick. Tasted unlike anything she'd had before. But she liked it. 

Laura drank silently from the straw and gave you the smallest hint of a smile when she released it. 

“I knew you'd like it baby.” You grinned down at her. “Right, we have to get you cleaned up.” 

~~ 

You'd run the bath for her and insist she hop in. Laura removed the crusty clothes and did follow your instructions. Neither of you cared that she was naked. You were past that. 

“Is it warm enough?” 

She nodded. You'd all become accustomed to cool water due to the Void so we're careful when running baths or turning the shower on. If it was too hot it felt suffocating. 

You dunked her sponge into the soapy water and plucked her hands in yours to clean them. The movements were methodical. You cleaned her wrist, then her palms then her knuckles and lastly her nails. She's ripped off the false ones, leaving her natural nails on show. 

When the water was a burgundy colour you let it out and refilled the tub. Laura sat and watched. “We're going to do your hair now. Tilt your head back.” 

You flicked the tap to connect it to the shower head and turned it on. The water splurged out and you hummed softly to undercut the noise. Laura let you rinse her hair. There were bits of dry blood and a leaf? in it. El had said she had run away. Good on them for finding her and bringing her back. Good on El for replacing the mattress and bedding. You'd have to thank them. You loved them so dearly for looking after her. 

Laura's eyes were tired by the time you'd finished. She stood and you wrapped a towel around her shoulders. 

She sat on the lip of the bath so you could towel dry her hair with a smaller towel and comb it. 

“Someone looks sleepy.” You kissed her nose. “C’mon, let's go to bed.”

She took a shaky breath and frantically shook her head. 

“It's okay.” You shushed her. “I'll take you to bed but I won't get in.” 

It broke your heart to see her allow that. You wanted nothing more than to tuck her under your chin and sleep soundly with your bubba. 

Laura pulled on a night shirt and eased into the bed whilst you quickly ran the spray over the tub, erasing any signs of blood. 

You found her in the bed waiting and sat next to her. Your hand smoothed her hair and you found yourself humming a long forgotten tune. It took seconds for her to sleep. 

~~

Logan was on you in an instant - the second - you walked through the door. He squeezed you tightly. 

“I'm okay.” You reassured him. “She's just-it's weird seeing her like that. She's normally so strong.” 

The two of you parted and you let him kiss your forehead. “You're a good mom.” 

You chuckled. “It's not easy.” 

“No.” His head shook. “But you are.”

You don't know why but the determination in his eyes made yours water. You sniffed and looked away. “She likes milkshakes.” 

“Of course she does.” He shrugged. “I do.”  You rolled your eyes at his reply but before you could argue he spoke again. “I'm sorry. I've been a dickhead.” 

“I can get why.” You placed a hand on his sideburn. “I do. But she's just a kid.” 

He nodded and kissed your palm. “You have no idea what would've happened if I lost you again.” 

You did know. He would've gone fucking feral. He would've killed Laura, then the others would've gotten involved and they would've fought and killed and not cared for the consequences. “You didn't lose me.” 

He smiled and bent his neck to kiss you. You met him halfway on your tiptoes, replicating the same amount of need. 

You both knew you were fucked. The world was fucked. Both were damaged goods. The chances of finding each other was next to none yet here you were. Kissing in your shared apartment. 

“I love you.” You whispered into the kiss, Logan used that to his advantage and delved his tongue into your mouth. You hummed letting your own dance with his. 

His hands cradled your face and spine. His palm was so big against your cheek, it made you feel safe. At home. He would protect you. 

You had to break the kiss to breathe, panting against his ear as he kissed his way to your nape. He loved your nape and you loved the way he nipped and sucked it, it was him claiming you. Him owning you. And when he bit down on your neck all your feminism flew out of the window. You would do anything for this man.

The hand on your cheek had travelled down to your chest, cupping a breast and giving it a delicate squeeze. You were still wearing that Deadpool set, with no actual cup, so when his thumb grazed over your nipple you felt everything. 

Logan wasn't one for slow. You knew that to be true because of the way he fucked you previously. But here he was taking his time. Savouring each hitch and groan that tumbled from your lips. 

You were actually being a bit useless here, letting him kiss and fondle you without doing the same. Quick to remedy that your hands found their way to his belt, fingers grazing the skin under his vest, and you tugged him that bit closer.  

Logan crowded you now. He was all you could see, hear, taste, smell and touch. He was all you needed. 

“Logan.” You breathed onto his lips, kissing him again. His lips were smooth, a nice juxtaposition to his gruff hair. Oh, but you loved the scratch. He was so manly. So hairy. He was everything rolled into one. 

You sensually licked his lips as your fingers unhooked his belt. 

Logan's half lidded eyes watched you as you pushed your tongue further out, keeping eye contact as you bent to make your mark on his neck. 

He groaned as you sucked, tongue swirling across the marred flesh. It then made its own way to his chest, kissing and sucking where the vest would allow. 

You gave him one look and he immediately removed the fabric. “Good boy.” You whispered against his pecs. Kissing them and letting your teeth catch certain areas. 

Logan watched with a baited breath and you slowly sunk to your knees. The unbuckled belt sitting at his hips as you unpopped the button, pulling the zipper all the way down. 

He let out a shudder when you nuzzled your nose against the visible boxers. Tugging the jeans down so you could kiss him through the fabric. You'd never get over how big he was. 

He was long and thick and if you thought his dick looked comically large in your hand you knew it would be difficult to swallow down. 

Still though, you teased him through the fabric. Kissing his head and sucking the wet patch. It was gloriously salty. 

“Y/N.” He muttered his hand making a home in your hair. 

You looked up at him as you pulled him from the boxers. His mouth was permanently set in a small ‘o’ but it widened when you licked a stripe from shaft to tip. 

You loved this. This fearsome warrior. This feral beast. The reason to genetically alter you, to ensure he was happy. Was putty in your hands. He would do anything for you. 

Maybe it was fucked up at at this precise moment you understood his plight. Why he was so angry. Why he had taken it out on Laura. She was technically to blame - never in your eyes though - and you got why he snapped. 

You sucked the head again before delving deeper. Yeah, you were right, it was far too big but you had hands for a reason. 

Pumping with your mouth and hand you make sure to be delicate. For some reason you wanted this to be soft. You wanted to treat him. Your Logan hadn't minded a bit of teeth but you tried your hardest to keep them away. 

He was trying to suppress his moans, trying to keep cool but he was dying. You were perfect. 

How were you this perfect? 

How did you know what he needed? 

Every fucking day! 

It was like you were a mind reader. 

Maybe you were. 

Maybe they'd altered you that way as well. 

Logan's hips urged to jut forward but he didn't want to ruin this. This was something he hadn't really experienced. This was sweet. This was soft. 

He was quick to fuck but no this wasn't that. You were being too nice for this to be called ‘fucking’. He hates to say it because you were literally just sucking his dick but this was definitely on the “making love” spectrum. 

“You're perfect.” He groaned out. “I fucking love you.” 

You hummed in response and he had to quickly pulled himself out. He could've spilt right there and then.

“Bed.” He ordered. “Now.” 

He wasn't going to cum in your mouth, no, he was going to fill you up. He was going to fuck you so full of his cum. He wanted you dripping.

You frowned cutely, your lips swollen and pouting was fucking amazing. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were glassy so as he lifted you - pulling you closer - he got to see you. To really see how messy you were. Hair out of place and a line of drool on your chin. Fuck.

He wanted you.

He was going to lock you in the room.

You were his.

No one else's.

“I'm going to fuck you full of my seed.” His lips spoke against yours, not kissing you just touching you. “I'm going to fill you up.” He'd never felt like this before. “Breed you.” 

You shuddered and smiled but then your brows pinched. 

“Logan,” You pulled back to look him in the eye. “I- I don't have a womb.” 

The man stopped in his tracks. “What?” 

You chuckled. “Why else do you think we've been fucking the way we have with no consequences?” 

He made a noise. It made sense. He hadn't smelt the change in your cycle like he had the girls. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“I didn't realise you didn't know.” You looked guilty. “I'm sorry.” 

“No.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Don't be sorry.” 

You groaned non sensually. “Have I just killed the mood?” 

“No.” He shook his head and kissed your nose. You knew he was lying. 

“Logan. Don't shut me out, be honest.” 

“I'm just surprised.” He was truthful. “My Y/N had hers.”  

You bit your lip. “If I tell you what happened the mood will definitely be killed.”

He was curious. “C’mon.” He tucked himself back into his boxers and pulled his jeans back up before leading you to the sofa. You sat down, tucking your legs under your chin. He was sitting facing you, giving you his full attention. 

How do you say this in a way that won't set him off? Couldn't you go back to sucking his dick? That was so nice. You sighed. “The scar on my back...”

He lent forward, elbows on his knees. “I'm going to get angry again aren't I?” 

“Stryker had this man in his possession. He could make you see whatever he wanted you to see. Logan didn't know it was me.” 

//

It was confusing to wake up in the infirmary. Jean and Beast looking down at you. 

“Y/N.” Jean breathed in a sigh of relief. “I was worried.”

“You always fix me up.” You joked, feeling very sore. Your back and stomach were aching. It felt alien to be in this much discomfort. 

“We had to perform a procedure on you.” Beast clasped one of your hands. “It's very serious. You will be fine but we had to make a decision.” 

“Okay?” You were even more confused, trying to sit yourself up a little. The pain in your stomach didn't allow for that so you flopped back down.

“You were pierced by Logan and flung across the facility. When you landed you hit your front. A piece of piping damaged your womb and we were unable to save the organ.” 

As Hank spoke you got flashes of the scene. You didn't recall a pipe but you remembered the agony, calling for an evac. Begging for Logan's help. 

“To save my womb..?” You slowly understood. “So I've had a hysterectomy?” 

Jean tried to sooth you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “It is a small price to pay, we could've tried to save it and risked infection, risked your health.” 

“I'm not upset.” You told her matter of factly. “I'm just trying to figure out what happened.” You weren't upset. It wasn't a thing you'd thought of at this age. You weren't really the mothering type. Yeah, you looked after the students but that role was more ‘wine aunt'. You weren't fit to be a mother. Logan would be a good dad though. Oh, you'd have to tell him. 

What would he say? 

He'd naturally be upset he hurt you but would he forgive himself just to dislike being with you? What if you being unable to give him children was an issue? 

~~ 

You'd been transferred to your room. It was lovely and cosy. Blankets everywhere, pillows strewn and the wooden accents of Xavier's mansion felt more like home than being with your mother. 

You wondered how she was. What would she say about you being barren?

Sitting and sulking was how you spent your days. Food was brought to you - as you couldn't really move - by different members of your family. Scott brought flowers, Ororo made you a gorgeous curry, Jubilee gifted you a teddy. 

Each member of the team was welcome but you were waiting for him. 

They'd all told you he was taking it hard, drinking more, fighting more, caring less and less about his safety. He felt like shit but you didn't blame him. 

You felt guilty for not realising sooner it wasn't Logan. Your fields could stop his claws, they had in training. The two of you were paired up a lot to show the newbies how to fight. You worked well together and it was only a matter of time and rolling about on the floor before he asked you out. 

You decided at the end of the first week that if he wanted kids you wouldn't make him stay. You couldn't. You'd push him away, if needs be. 

It was day twelve when he knocked at the door. You could move, had showered - careful with your stitches - and dressed yourself for the first time. 

“Y/N.” He spoke by the door. 

You looked up from the Hobbit, smiling wide. “Logan, hi.” 

“I'm so so sorry.” He eased his way in, looking uncomfortable in your room in a way he had never previously. 

“Logan, it wasn't you, love.” You closed the book, placing it on your nightstand. “It could've been anyone.” 

“But I hurt you.” 

“I'm okay.” Wasn't exactly the best argument but it was true.

He shuffled over to your bed and sat delicately at your side, his feet still touching the floor. “I couldn't face you. Couldn't see you bruised because of me.” 

The bruising had gone down. You were looking normal again. “Again, babe, I don't blame you.” 

“You should.” His eyes left yours and he looked at the floor. 

The need to comfort him was so strong but you held back. Remembering yourself. You couldn't get too lost. Not when you were lacking. “Do you want kids?” 

The questions surprised both of you. You didn't mean for it to tumble out of your mouth but it had and now it was sitting heavily amongst you. 

Logan looked back at you perplexed. His eyebrows met but he stared into your eyes, considering your question.

He'd almost killed you. He could've killed you. His hands harmed you and you were asking if he wanted kids. Yo- he loved you so much. He should stay away. You'd get hurt again he knew you would. 

But he loved you. Whenever he imagined a future - and that wasn't often - he saw you with him. And now he saw a little girl and boy. The boy looked like him and the girl looked like you but they acted like the other parent. He could see a soft mummy's boy being coddled far too much and a cute feral girl who was ready to take on the world. He could picture them. 

Picture you full with your child. His child. You were glowing. 

“I think we'd be great parents.” He hadn't realised his eyes were watering, quickly swatting the tears away. He'd almost destroyed that future, the one you were offering him. 

You bit your lip and nodded silently. “I think we should break up.” 

~~

Four months later he burst into your bedroom seething. 

“Are you fucking serious?!” He yelled. 

You jumped, snapping the Lord of the Rings shut. “Logan?”

He had left when you broke up with him. Becoming a renegade, a fighter, a mercenary. Whatever it took to forget you. 

It wasn't until Storm needed assistance - fighting off the brotherhood by the cul-de-sac Logan was passing through - when she told him. 

“You ended it because you can't have kids?!” His hands were on his hips and he was pacing back and forth. “I thought I…” He sighed shakily. “I thought I fucked up. I thought the idea of me wanting children with you after almost fucking killing you was terrifying.” 

“Lo, I can't have children.” You explain. “I will die and you will live and that's it. If you find someone that can give you kids then you won't be as lonely. You could have a family.”

He stopped pacing and stared at you. “That’s the most stupid argument I've ever fucking heard.” 

It was but it was all you had.

“I know but I didn't want you to feel trapped.” You sat up and he suppressed a gasp because you were wearing one of his shirts. After all this time you still wore his clothes, it did something to him. Inside his chest ached. “Down the line when you wanted a child and I couldn't give you one… I didn't want you to resent me.” 

“I would never.” He vowed. “I have spent these past months trying to forget that I fucking love you. I could never resent you.” 

Tears oozed from your eyes and you wiped them away. “I'm sorry.” 

He didn't want to break this easily. Didn't want to give in but you were crying. His girl was crying. Logan scooped you up in a hug and kissed your forehead. “Don't ever lie to me again. I don't care what it's about. We'll handle it together.” 

You nodded. “Okay. I promise.” 

\\

Logan sat back, resting his spine against the sofa. "It's okay." He decided. "We already have Laura, we don't need any more."

You smiled. "So you forgive her?"

"'course I do." He heaved a sigh. "Just gotta actually apologise to her."

"I love you." You leant over and kissed his brow. "You look so sexy when you're grovelling."

He rolled his eyes and playfully shoved you off.

Part 11

@littlecrowtime @geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @br3nt-12 @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @catiwinky @twinkywink @ravenmedows @electricreader @racetrackheart @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany @4ria790 @caramelatae @mei-simp @slightlymediocree

[lurking-latinist]

👀👀 wanna say more about your eusocial timelord theory?

when you sent this ask like a year ago apparently I did not, for which I apologize.

now it's the wee small hours and I'm trying to clear out my asks. but eusocial time lords are so fun. forgive anything that doesn't make sense/jars weirdly in this, I'm trying to explain some quite spitbally worldbuilding.

among other things, it's an explanation for (1) why are there so few time ladies on screen and (2) that very strange thing in I think it's in Gallifrey where Pandora was 'the first female President' and apparently that's a big deal? but like why would a different planet (where they regenerate!!) have the same manifestations of sexism as we have? and also vaguely riffing on the VNAs lore that Gallifrey used to be a matriarchy and Rassilon overthrew it, but also kind of completely transforming that lore.

so forget gender, this is not about gender. "male"/"female" is at best a very rough translation of the binary that Gallifreyans are concerned with, which is worker/queen. They are bees!

The Time Ladies (i.e. Gallifreyans played by female human actors) that we see in the pre-War era (all of this applies to the pre-War era)--Romana, the Rani, Flavia, Inquisitor Darkel--are biologically the equivalent of insect queens. (And the Doctor, the Master, Borusa, the Floating Time Lord, Commander Maxil, etc. etc. are the equivalent of worker bees. The fact that the former all present as female and the latter all present as male is just sort of a translation convention/useful coincidence, I guess.) Gallifreyans evolved from a eusocial species and their early political structures were developments of the hive structure, with reproductive capacity strongly linked to political authority.

Presumably this is what Rassilon, or whatever revolutionary Rassilon stole credit from, is supposed to have overturned--the link between reproductive capacity and political authority. But in my version, it was before that that Looming became a thing: the queens had control of the Looms, so it was the ultimate refinement of their arts and sciences, and it was their way of getting rid of whatever drone class there used to be, if they weren't already parthenogenetic.

And that's why there's the stereotype in Gallifrey--mentioned in connection with Pandora, suggested as a concern about Romana--that a "female" (queen) President will be autocratic. It's seen as a potential return to "how things once were."

And then I did a lot of worldbuilding for how government worked at a stage in history when there was a sort of uneasy balance between reproductive and political power, but that was for a fic Moki was working on and I think she's still working on it, so no spoilers!

So what you end up with is a hive structure where the role of the queen has been sort of abstracted away into... well, the hive itself. The power at the heart of Gallifrey is Gallifrey. I feel like that explains a lot of what's wrong with them.

There might be another branch of the species that evolved away from eusocial structure into something more like solitary bees and that's the Shobogans, possibly, since nobody seems at all clear what the Shobogans are.

Also I read that with naked mole rats, the only eusocial mammal, there are a few in each colony that are predisposed to not fit into the colony and instead go and wander and find other colonies, to promote genetic diversity, and I'm just saying, renegades.

And after the War when there are often maybe two Gallifreyans left, that's why whatever's left of the hivemind keeps trying to get at least one of them to turn out as a Time Lady. Fortunately for the universe, neither of them seems that interested in reproducing.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Over your head

It's been a while and most of this is personal to my life. Just needed to little Nick loving.

Warnings: None, just fluffy Nick.

WC: 736.

Enjoy x

You should have said no, but you couldn’t now, everything was in place and you knew it have to be like ripping a band aid off, but you were nervous. When Liv came to you and told you that SVU was going to be getting the funds to have an in-house forensic science lab and suggested that you go and get your degree so you could be the head of the lab, it took you nearly 3 days to decide. Life had not been kind recently and you were in your era of second guessing yourself with everything you had been through and what was still to come in your personal life. Your divorce was finally coming to the final stages of being settled and you had just got the kids in a routine as a single mom, and now you were nothing but crazy taking on a full-time degree study as well as working. It was lucky you lived with your mum and the kids went to the same school as Amanda's girls, so between her and Sonny, when you needed it, they said they had it all under control.

As you walked into the huge lecture hall, you found a seat as far up the back as possible and you sat down, sitting your bag on the seat next to you. You had a little giggle as your eyes scanned around the room at all these “Young kids” doing a course as heavy as this, thinking about everything you had seen after 12 years of SVU.

You were looking down at your phone to a message Amanda had messaged you about her plans with all the kids that afternoon after school when you heard a familiar voice and instantly all your worries melted away, your eyes slowly scanned up and surprisingly your eyes met and you blushed as he gave you quick wink and continued talking,

“Good morning, everyone, I’ am Nick Amaro your professor for the next 12 months. I’ am here to answer any questions you may have. All I ask is no phones during my class, unless an extreme emergency” Nick looked at you with a smirk and you giggled to yourself dropping you phone back into your bag.

If that is what you had to listen too for 1 hour every day for the next year, you would be glad to do it. Listening to Nick talking about all his lab skills and referring to his SVU days and cases he had worked on with you and how it led him to this path, made you feel warm and fuzzy. You hadn’t seen him since the night he told you he was moving to LA, your life was already a mess from the break up and he held you on floor as you sobbed at the fact that you were losing your best friend. You had kept in contact, he calling and facetiming the kids as often as he could but you never would have thought in a million years that he would be back in New York teaching.

You watched as all the other students filed out and then you stood up walking out of the aisle you  were sitting on and you walked down the stairs. Just as you were almost at the bottom, Nick walked from around his desk and made his way towards the stairs, stopping at the bottom step not stepping up. You stopped on the bottom step, looking down at Nick, not taking them off his as you sat your bag down on the chair next to you. It was like a magnet pulled you together, your arms going around his neck and his around you middle,

“I’ve missed you sweetheart” Nick kissed the cheek he could reach.

You lent back, your arms going from around his neck and your hands went straight to his beaded cheeks, his moving to your hips, the feel of his facial hair smooth on your hands,

“You have no idea how much I have missed you. How long are you back for?”

“At the moment 3 years” he squeezed your hips “But I’ am hoping I won’t need to leave again”

“Have something important to stay for Professor?” You grinned.

“Yes actually” he paused for a moment looking down at your lips and then looking back up at your eyes “I ‘am looking at her”

Tags: @beccabarba @ben-c-group-therapy @alwaysachorusgirl @jemmakates

[risestarkissomega]

A question from @overthinkingspark-blue

"So, I’ve been thinking a lot about these Steven universe-style fusions that @teenagenutant made for the rise turtles. I’ve been working on a fanfic of them with another writer actually!

here’s the tag for them: https://www.tumblr.com/teenagenutant/tagged/fmau

So I’ve just been wondering- since I have absolutely no knowledge on fashion- what kinds of outfits *these* characters would wear, them being fusions of the rise turtles and all because it’s kinda hard to imagine they’d just wear both their components’ clothes together

if that makes sense?

Theres also the fact that a lot of them are designed wearing shorts/pants, so that may give hints to what kind of style they’d prefer. So since you’re well versed in the topic of fashion for the turtles, I figured why not ask you what you thought about it!

...And I was thinking specifically for what their wrestling outfits would be like or what they’d wear in a. “clothes don’t make the turtle” scenario...Though the ones that seem the most intriguing to me are Titian (Raph and Donnie fusion that looks like a mech) and Caravaggio (Leo and Raph fusion with the loooongggg mask tails and mega anxiety)

Because those two are hard to guess

And also Newton! (Donnie and Mikey fusion.)..."

○○○○

Ooo.

Firstly, combining the turtles into fusions is a really cool concept! The boys' personalities are already so interesting, so blending them would surely yield some very intriguing results...

Also, I just so happened to have watched all of Steven Universe. So, I'll be using my understanding of the SU rules for these fusions. (Assuming that these turtles fusions are using the same rules. If not, I'm so sorry! 😣)

Let's get started!

From what I've gathered from SU, the fusion rules are not as hard and fast as they could be when it comes to their designs...

Sometimes, the fashion is a true amalgamation of what each component was already wearing, which is usually in the case for Stevonnie.

Other times, and in my opinion more commonly, the designs involve the fusion's personality coming out in their fashion choices. But, it's not necessarily a direct reflection of the component's clothing.

My example for that is Sugilite.

The design for her clothing is not exactly what Garnet and Amethyst is wearing, but is more a reflection of who they become when they're together; this rough and tumble, rough around the edges, strong-willed, and powerful gem-which is reflected in the exaggerated and excessively ripped outfit, so it still works!

(BTW, this is also an example of the "Exaggeration" component of good character design.)

Alright, so I've said all of that to say: In SU, I believe that there's no absolute way to have a fusion. It seems to be more of a sliding scale from a "perfectly balanced physical amalgamation" to a "completely emotional combination," depending on the design choices of the creators, if that makes sense...

So, I'll summarize the SU fusion rules (in my opinion) that I'll be using going forward: This is a more "Physical Amalgamation" Fusion Design: Rainbow Quartz 2.0

vs.

A more "Emotional Amalgamation" Fusion Design: Sunstone

vs.

Something Right in the Middle: Sardonyx

Additional SU Note: In the end, the sliding scale of physical to emotional fusion choices is all at the discretion of the character designer! - IE. Rebecca caught a lot of flak for her Sunstone design, but in the end it's Rebecca's design (as revealed in the "Steven Universe: End of an Era" book.) Thus, how she chooses to depict the fusion of Steven and Garnet is up to her discretion!

Phew, ok. With that foundation out of the way...

Let's look at the turtles!

And since you mentioned their wrestling outfits, let's look at those specifically:

I found the easiest way to come up with a good representation of various turtle combinations is to do what we've always done in science...use punnett squares!

However, instead of crossing "alleles/genes," let's cross clothing design characteristics! (Stay with me! 😂) I went ahead and made a square using their wrestling clothing choices.

Let me just pop that baby right here:

Here's a reminder of all of the boys' wrestling fits:

And as an example, let's look at T.I.T.I.A.N. (Donnie and Raph's Fusion) since he seems to be one of the hardest to predict:

(T.I.T.I.A.N. as depicted by the original creator, @teenagenutant)

BTW, the design for T.I.T.I.A.N. is so logical!

With Raph's overly bureaucratic nature (as he's a stickler for the rules) and Donnie's hyper-analytic personality, the two of them combining to be a giant robot just makes sense! 😌❤️💜

"Uh, Ma’am, you misplace your five dollar bill directly into my palm."

"I need pre-game stats, highlights of past stats, projections of future stats. We’re missing the stats, people!"

Anywhoozle...

Here's a close up of my estimations for T.I.T.I.A.N.'s outfit based on the "SU fusion rules" I established earlier and the general application of the punnett square:

For me, the takeaway is the DRAMATICS!

Raph was a natural showman in the ring, and Donnie is just dramatic in general. Sooo, in my eyes, T.I.T.I.A.N.'s wrestling persona would be HIGHLY theatrical. 🙄

But yeah, by using the punnett square, you can just fill in the blanks, thus making any combination you'd like!

Or scrap all of my thoughts and start fresh! The point is it's a tool to make combining the turtles easier. 😁 Psssst! BTW.... I don't think you were the only ones inspired by Steven Universe:

💙💜🧡❤️Happy Creating! ❤️🧡💜💙

○○○○

YOUTUBE | KOFI | 🎵 BANDCAMP 🎵

I appreciate you! 😌

💜💜💜

[martialartslover7]

Weird Wednesday Headcanon: Sarada & Mirai are time travellers in my AU (+ a little venting about Boruto).

This is basically me, yelling at the top of my lungs, and I am sure I am speaking on behalf of the good 90% of the fandom, who actually cares about the story:

BORUTO. FUCKING. SUCKS!

And I gotta say, out of all the newcomers in Boruto, the only two newcomer shinobi, who didn't make me want to kill myself, were Sarada Uchiha and Mirai Sarutobi. Ironically, these two are also the same characters that barely have any screen presence (I know that Sarada is part of the main cast, but for some reason, from what I have seen so far, at least, she is somehow even less useful than her mom, in correlation to the rest of her team), or any major feats of their own...

...I seem to be noticing a pattern here. Off-topic, but, I NEED to talk about this for a second. May it be Kishimoto or Ikemoto, any living being with boobs and a vagina, will always be treated as "second rate cheerleaders" under their pens, and they unironically believe, this is all done in favor of women, while relying on harmful and outdated stereotypes. Thanks. For nothing. And then they wonder, why no one likes the way they portray females in their IP.

You'd think that, by the time Boruto rolled around, they would have actually learned their lesson, and not dare repeating what made their story receive so much criticism in the first place? But nope. I guess, because "nostalgia sells well"? So, thanks for reminding me, how useless you two jesters are.

But back to the topic at hand: Essentially, Sarada and Mirai had their own timeline completely destroyed by the Otsutsuki clan...

...at least, this is what they learned about them, because, really, the Otsutsukis by themselves, aren't really a "clan" in the normal sense, it was more like, an orchestrated science experiment, if you will. To create the perfect, most flawless shinobi, with barely any weaknesses. And guess who unleashed these monsters. I tell you:

Orochimaru.

I mean, come on, all these years of research had to amount to something, and I REFUSE to believe, he was ever truly "redeemed", to the point where he would just stroll around Konoha, like he owns the place, like an NPC. To me, he will remain the shinobi equivalent to Frieza. Nuff' said. And I will never forgive Boruto era Naruto for being so stupid and spineless to let this snake-headed waste of space stay in the village. That HAD to come back to bite him in the ass, man.

Besides, just by itself, this decision was so full of shit.

Let me get this straight:

Orochimaru committed unethical human experimentation, kidnapping, bribery, war crimes and grave desecration, all for what? Attaining eternal life? ...He returns back to Konoha.

Sasuke went rogue, because of circumstances, all enforced by Konoha themselves, and the elders, meaning, he mostly fought to survive, wanting to pay his clan, and his brother, the respect they rightfully deserved (besides, his kill count is a joke compared to Orochimaru's)? NO! KEEP HIM OUT! THE UCHIHA ARE TRASH, THEY DON'T BELONG IN KONOHA!

...Why is anyone a fan of Boruto again? Shit like this, is just disrespecting everything we were conditioned to rightfully judge, because the system clearly enjoys playing dirty. And yet for some reason, Naruto knowingly chooses to be Hokage in the exact same system, that treated him, Sasuke, Gaara, Kakashi, Anko, Hinata, and every other jinchuriki, like dirty dishwater. He always spoke the loudest about bringing peace, yet he never dares to challenge the Konoha elders... who, not only are the biggest reason as to why 90% of all the conflicts in the story we had so far even happened in the first place, considering they endorsed what Danzo was doing the whole time, but also, by the way: ARE STILL FUCKING ALIVE, AND PART OF THE AUTHORITY! PUT THEM IN JAIL!

...

So, yeah. Sarada, Mirai, please, rewrite the freaking timeline, and fix this shit. Get it out of my face. Naruto and Kakashi playing the bootlickers for the elders is so freaking OOC for them, especially in regards to how much they claim to be behind Sasuke, and just letting someone like Orochimaru return, willy-nilly.

...And to further shit on all the tropes, you know how Future Sarada will make her grand entrance into the story here?

...Putting Kabuto, who dares to attack the Leaf village, with an army of White Zetsu clones, laced with "Otsutsuki" proxy DNA, in another Tsukuyomi Genjutsu, while just destroying all of the White Zetsus, without even breaking a single sweat. And her Tsukuyomi is nothing like Itachi's, it's more loving, gentle, almost angelic, how she puts Kabuto "to rest", in a field of cherry blossom petals...

...before slicing him to pieces with her dad's trusted blade.

I do need to bring up though, by the time Sarada and Mirai travel back to the Blank Period to prevent the birth of the Otsutsuki plague, the two are young adults, around the same age group as the Konoha 12, basically 19 / 20.

This is how they look (a visual basis):

Sarada:

Mirai:

Added details, to make the SasuSaku fans squeal with happiness:

Future Sarada inherits her dad's sword

She unlocked the Mangekyo Sharingan, after learning the truth about why Sasuke remained absent, for the majority of her lifespan (blame the Uchiha stigma, subtly enforced by the elders for this, wiping everything under the rug, and Naruto's and Kakashi's refusal to help her father)

She bears the Byakugo Seal from her mom

She also wears Kawaki's piercings

Boruto's / Sasuke's headband is hers, and she wears it like her mom does

And for Mirai fam, to respect some of the more wholesome aspects of her characters:

Future Mirai inherits her dad's chakra blades

She wears her mother's bandages, and is a Genjutsu master, much like her

Might Guy's weights, meaning, she is insanely fast, once she takes them off

Tenten's weapon arsenal is hers to bear, too

Rock Lee taught her the 8 Gates

And in general, I will leave it up to you to fill in the blanks on how mindblowingly wholesome, but also insanely heartwrenching Sarada's and Mirai's reunion with the past versions of their family and friends, would run down.

I am sure, Future Sarada will just fall apart, seeing her mom and dad again, after they got killed by Isshin Otsutsuki, even though, she wasn't even born yet around that time, and despite this version of her past having the Uchiha clan being pardoned and acknowledged, which is why Sasuke is a permanent resident this time, it would feel strange... ...but due to how deep Sasuke's and Sakura's love runs for each other, accepting Future Sarada comes almost naturally to them.

And well, poor Mirai, seeing both herself as a baby, and her still young mother again. That's gotta be so messed up, yet oddly comforting to be in the presence of a parent, who died protecting you, down to her last breath.

But on a lighter note, if these two were to interact with the Blank Period versions of their friends and comrades, just imagine how comically awkward it would be to realize: There are quite a number of deviations from what they were used to in their time. Examples being:

Neji is alive, and is dating Tenten

Kakashi and Anko are married, and Anko ain't overweight

Ino ended up with Choji, instead of Sai, and Karui ended up going for Kiba, instead of Choji

Sasuke is actually besties with Neji, Kiba and Shikamaru, and all four are drinking buddies

Tenten runs a full-on tech workshop (she will be the one to rebuild the time machine from scratch)

Shino is a granny chaser

The Konoha elders were chased out of the village

Naruto, Hinata and Rock Lee share an apartment together

Naruto has long hair, tied into a ponytail, in honor of his mother

On demand of Sasuke, Team Taka / Hebi are now Leaf ninja

Oh, also, because I am that petty, Sarada will warn Naruto and Hinata about their future kids being nothing short of menaces to society, especially Boruto himself. Demanding them to punish their kids more often, whenever they misbehave, especially Boruto. She knows all too well, how big of a pain in the ass he was.

But in all seriousness, she will express genuine sadness to them, as she felt like, she failed to save their son and daughter the most, especially since Momoshiki inhabited Boruto's body, leaving them with not that many options anymore. She hopes that she can be of assistance this time, and assure that their kids will be able to grow up, without any of this drama.

Basically, Sarada and Mirai go back in time, to fix the mess, that is the Boruto story. Can be understood in two different ways:

Fuck the Boruto continuity, reset it, please. Make Sarada and Mirai part of the main cast to oppose the elders and feudal lords, referring back to this thread of mine:

Taking notes from SoulCalibur 6's storyline with Cassandra, who meets an alternate version of herself from a destroyed timeline, inside Astral Chaos (SoulCalibur fam, you know, you know)

And with more material for you to sink your teeth into, without further ado, I say:

Peace.

[brairslair]

FEEL BETTER? ˗ˏˋ P.B.P ´ˎ˗

“all you have to do is ask”

confident!peter parker x shy!gf!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

REQUESTED: no requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, shit writing, established relationship, peter and reader are implied to be in college/uni, SMUT (18+), very little plot tbh, heavy praise kink, softdom!peter vibes, fingering (f!rec), very light nipple play, SUPER slight dacryphilia if u squint, peter is talkative, not proofread and written instead of sleeping, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: is it 8am? yeah. did i just spend the last two hours writing this mess? also yeah. enjoy!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Six hours. That’s how long it’s been since you showed up at Peter’s front door. Six hours spent right next to him, talking to him, touching him, and yet you still find yourself longing for more. Even now as you sit between his legs, back to his chest, his hands kindly twisting at your hair, your thoughts have you squirming in your seat.

The two of you had set up this study date a few days back, anticipating the opportunity to spend time together (without sacrificing your grades). Unfortunately, you were having a hard time focusing on schoolwork.

No matter how much you tried to focus on your paper, you couldn’t stop your mind, and your eyes, from wandering. You caught yourself staring at how pretty his hands looked as he hurriedly wrote down equations, admiring how cute he looked sitting crisscross in his plaid pajama pants and science pun t-shirt, how his voice sounded just slightly deeper when he was concentrating, or how soft his lips look right now. You actually thought you were going to lose it when the praise “Good job, babe. This looks perfect!” fell casually from his lips while reading your completed assignment, sealing it with a kiss to your temple.

You felt like you were going insane, but the thing is, so was Peter. You hadn’t seen each other for nearly three weeks prior to this study date, outside of passing in the halls or a quick call before bed. Between you trying to prepare for a major presentation coming up and Peter’s multitude of responsibilities, neither of you had much energy, let alone time, left to spend on anything else.

Of course, you love everything about Peter, unconditionally. That includes his web-slinging alter ego. However, it can get a little frustrating having to go weeks on end without being able to hold a conversation with him. Especially when all people talk about is the amazing spider-man, listening to girls fawn over your boyfriend for hours a day, and feeling just as fangirl-ish. You found yourself daydreaming about him to pass the time, acting like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

Seeing him again after so long with so little contact is like a wake up call for your senses. You'd been so buried in your studies that you didn’t even realize just how much you missed him until you knocked on his front door.

- “Are you okay?”

Your thoughts dissolve as Peter draws your attention back to the present. When you snap back to reality, you’re immediately reminded of what caused the spiral of daydreams to begin with. You can feel the warmth of his body behind yours, the contour of his toned chest pressing against your back. You feel your whole body heat up.

“Mhm, I’m great!” you squeak out, internally wincing at the shakiness in your voice. Your usually bright and vibrant tone is completely gone, replaced with something resembling more of a whisper than anything else.

Safe to say, Peter isn’t buying it.

His best guess is that you’re upset about something that happened today. Maybe stressed about the presentation you have coming up. He knows it sometimes takes you a while to open up, so for now, he decides to let it go. In an attempt to settle your mind, he slides a hand down your arm to lace his fingers through yours.

Unfortunately, it does the exact opposite. The innocent action leaves a trail of goosebumps behind and makes your breathing pattern pick up ever so slightly. You can only hope that Peter doesn't notice.

He does.

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. “No, I’m alright.” Loosely translated, means I actually feel like I’m burning from the inside out.

“Do you not like the movie? We can change it if you want to watch something else.” he offers sweetly, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’ve been all spacey for the past half an hour.”

Your breath hitches, feeling like you’ve been caught red handed. Of course he would notice. He may be a little oblivious sometimes, but when it comes down to it, Peter knows you better than you know yourself.

“The movie’s fine.” You struggle a bit to formulate a response, feeling your whole body heat up like a furnace. To evade the silence, you stutter out a weak, “I was just… thinking?”

You immediately want to light yourself on fire, deciding the silence would have been better.

“Thinking about what?” he asks. Not prying, just curious. “Must be something pretty important. Your heart is beating a mile a minute.” He softly laughs at his own words, causing you to shrink into yourself. He’s not laughing at you, but it definitely feels that way.

You fidget with Peter’s fingers in your palm, eyes locking on the movie as nerves wrack through your body. “It’s nothing.” You speak so quietly, he’s thankful for his enhanced hearing.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” you can practically hear the concerned furrow in his brow as he brings your still interlaced hands to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses to each knuckle. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

His patient and caring nature never fails to make you fall more and more in love with him, if that’s even possible.

Then, as if you weren’t enough of a mess, what really does it is when Peter leaves the faintest kiss to the base of your neck. A gesture meant to signal patience and understanding towards your “anxiety” only causes your thighs to squeeze together against your will, and before you can think enough to stop it, an airy, barely audible whine escapes the back of your throat, so soft it could pass as a sigh to the average ear.

Nothing about Peter is average.

He stills against your skin, causing your eyes snap open in horror as the realization hits you. Manicured hands immediately cover your face to shield you from the embarrassment.

They don’t stay long as Peter wastes no time in reaching up to gently pry your hands away. You feel like you could burst into tears at any moment from the sheer shame and frustration.

“Hey, hey-”, he holds both hands gently, rubbing sweet circles to soothe you, “No need to be embarrassed. You can talk to me.”

You don’t move your gaze from your lap.

“Come on, beautiful. Look at me.” He asks so gently that you comply before you can even think otherwise. His eyes are soft and kind, looking at you with all the love in the world. He makes you feel safe.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about? Hm?”

You blink up at him owlishly, feeling like there would be a question mark floating over your head if you looked up.

“That’s why you were all spacey? You were thinking about me…” he leans his head down, lips grazing your collarbone, “kissing you?”

Your breath catches.

"Or, maybe..." your eyes are glued as he moves his hand from your hold, delicately trailing it down your stomach, past your hip, and slowly down to the inside of your thigh. So close to where you’ve needed him for the past three weeks. “-you were thinking about me touching you?”

Your heart rate picks up by a tenfold, and Peter can hear it hammering in your chest.

Waiting for a response, he’s met with nothing but your heavy breathing. He carefully digs his fingertips into the doughy flesh of your thigh. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you?”

Another airy whimper tumbles from your lips, reluctantly nodding in response to his questions, needing him too badly to care about the shame you feel at your neediness.

Peter smiles, rewarding your response by trailing his sweet kisses up your neck, taking his time to feel you shiver under his touch. His warm lips finally reach the shell of your ear.

“All you have to do is ask.”

He resumes his attack on your neck, now bolder in his movements as he licks and bites and sucks at your skin, trying to find the spot that makes your eyes flutter shut.

Caught up in the feeling of his warm mouth against your skin, you don’t even notice as he hooks your ankles over his, slowly spreading your legs wider and wider, until your skirt rides up your legs.

Peter smiles against your skin when a shaky sigh reaches his ears, your hips bucking up in sync. He’s found it. Peter focuses all of his attention on that spot, nipping and sucking at it until you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. The hand on your thigh squeezes gently every time you move your hips, and you have to chew on your lip to stop the mortifyingly desperate sounds from spilling out.

“Is this what you had in mind, baby?” the words rumble against your skin, sending a chill down your spine, “Is this what you needed?”

Your hips buck again at that, pouting with the hope that he takes the hint. You feel your body melt into him when his tongue darts out to soothe the fresh mark he’s left on your neck.

Of course, he does get the hint, but there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily.

He inches his hand higher and higher up your thigh, slipping underneath the pretty little skirt he had bought for you as a gift a few months ago. You tense in anticipation.

“What is it?” amusement evident in his tone as he asks you. He loves that he gets to be the one that makes you this needy. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”

You almost sob in frustration, not wanting to say it out loud, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable.

His hand barely brushes against your panties, making your chest tighten as you suppress the urge to grind into it.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

You can’t handle it any longer.

“Please!” You all-but shout, free hand grabbing at his arm, “Please touch me, Pete!” You cry out, already sounding wrecked and he hadn’t even really done anything yet.

Peter beams at how vocal he had gotten you, leaning his head further down to meet your lips for the first time since you got here all those hours ago. It felt like drinking water after being stranded in a desert for days. You missed the way his lips felt. The way they tasted. You crave more.

Then, he mutters two words against your lips that manage to make your hazy brain short circuit.

“Good girl.”

Your groans are pathetic, being swallowed by Peter’s tongue as he rocks his palm against you through your pretty pink panties.

He can’t help but laugh a little, giddy at the sounds spilling out of you at even the lightest touch of his hand.

“Is that better?” he asks, breaking away for air. “This what you've been daydreamin' about?” He already knows what you really want, he always does, but he wants to hear you say it one more time. Just one more confirmation and he’ll give you anything you need.

Now that your mind is so clouded with pleasure, you don’t give it a second thought. “More-” you can’t barely get out a sentence between mewls, “Please, Peter, I need more-”

Before you can say another word, he’s pushing your underwear aside. Your head falls limp against Peter’s shoulder as he gathers your slick, dragging it up to finally circle your puffy clit.

Without his mouth to drown them out, your moans flow freely from you, drowning out the long-forgotten movie playing in the distance. Peter goes back to kissing your neck, deciding to mark every area of your skin that he can reach.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he soothes, nipping at the skin right under your jaw, his own heartbeat jumping at every noise he pulls from you, “Bet you’ve been achey all day, huh?”

You nod your head, barely registering his words as pleasure rolls through your body.

He lets out an almost mocking “Aww, honey…” as you buck your hips against his fingers, “Been so patient for me, huh? Waiting all day for me to make you feel good?”

“Mhm” mixed with your pants, words tumble from your mouth without a single thought to how eager you sound, “Feels so- ohhh… sososo good-”

All you can think about is the way Peters rough fingertips feel absolutely euphoric as he swirls and flicks at your clit, and how his lips sear every inch of your skin, and how his scent and his warmth consumes and takes over every thought floating around in your blissed-out head.

“You sound so pretty-” he peppers hot kisses across your shoulder, “Making so many pretty sounds…”

Peter bends his legs a little, which in turn, bends yours. The move spreads you out just a little bit more, but its enough to send little shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you jolt and gasp at the feeling.

Peter loves the way you look when you get like this. Skin sticky with heat, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open in bliss. He thinks you looks like a goddess.

Your moans start to sound more and more like a plea, hips grinding against Peter’s fingers subconsciously as you feel the heat slowly taking over. You need more.

“Peter, pleaseee-“

“Shh, It’s okay.” his fingers glide down to your entrance, coating themselves with slick, “I’ve got you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes practically roll into your skull as he slips two fingers inside of you with ease. The stretch feels incredible, and you can’t help but squeeze the hand that's still holding yours, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh my god-“

Peter kisses back up until he reaches your lips again, grinning as you can barely reciprocate. The gentle nature of his kiss makes your head spin and your core clench around his fingers.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

You feel your lashes begin to collect tears at the overwhelming feeling pulsing through you. This has been building up for weeks.

“Always so good for me.”

Achey little noises spill from your lips onto Peter’s, breathing labored and heaving as the only thought filling your head is Peter Peter Peter.

Then suddenly your mind goes completely blank, gasping back a choked moan as your body goes limp, jaw slacking against Peter’s deep kisses. Your whole body feels like it's buzzing with electricity, and your head feels static in the most amazing way.

Peter pulls back for a moment to watch your face scrunch up in ecstasy, as he rubs against your spot over and over and over again. “There she is.” he coos, admittedly a little proud of himself, and you’re too fucked out to pick up on the mocking tone. He watches in awe as you start to fall apart.

“Takin’ my fingers so well, baby.”

You start to clench tighter around him, using your free hand to grip his wrist like a vice. Peter goes back to kissing your open mouth, sucking and nipping at your bottom lip as you pulse and twitch under his touch.

Panting turns back into whimpers which turns into tears as Peter massages your walls just right, hitting all the right places and stretching you out sooo perfectly.

You can feel pressure building up rapidly in your stomach, back arching up as your body starts to shake from the intensity. Peter shifts so he can watch the way your hips chase his fingers and your chest heaves for air.

“You’re so close, sweetheart. You can do it.” he praises, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge, “Almost there-“

The knot keeps winding tighter and tighter, and whiny begs and pleads start to pour out of you. Lots of “Oh my god, Pete“ or “Please” and “So good-“

Hand over yours, Peter glides your intertwined hands up your body and over your arched ribcage. He slides your hands under your his t-shirt, using his thumb to push your smaller one back and forth over your peak, a long chant of mumbled Peter’s tumble from your kiss-bitten lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” he consoles you, copying the pouty tone of your voice, “Just feels too good, huh?”

You nod your head frantically, still not catching onto the the tease, only caring about chasing your release.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Waited so long for this, honey. You deserve to feel good.”

He pumps his fingers a little bit faster.

“Gonna make you feel so good-“

You start to grind your hips up again, gasping when his palm rubs against your clit with each thrust.

“Pete-” the knot is getting tighter, “Oh my god, Peter- I’m…“ and tighter, “I’m gonna-”

“Let go for me, babe.”

Thats all you needed for your vision to go white hot, mouth falling open with a silent scream as stars dance behind your eyelids.

“There ya go”

“Just like that, pretty girl”

“Let it all out, baby”

He peppers kisses on your burning skin and slows his movements as he works you through your high. As you come down from it, your body goes limp on top of him, a lazy smile stretching on your lips. Peter can’t help but smile too, chest swelling in satisfaction that he was the one who put that smile on your face.

You wince a little as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core, eyes following as he brings them up to his lips to clean them off.

“Feel better?” this time you can definitely hear the cockiness in his tone, smacking him weakly on the arm. “Shut up.”

You turn around just enough to kiss him. This time, it’s slow, and careful, and loving, and you have to pull away and bury your face in his chest to hide the lovesick look in your eyes. Both of you burst out giggling, and Peter can't stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He’s missed you more than you could possibly ever know.

As relaxation coats you like a warm, fuzzy blanket, you shift your weight to get comfortable.

“Ah, don’t-“

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, hissing at the sudden pressure and gripping your hips to keep you still. “Can't do that...”

Now it’s his turn to get flustered.

His face goes beet red as you jump up in confusion. When you look down, you notice a painful looking bulge in his jeans. Your stomach twists with the knowledge that you did that to him.

You weren’t the only one who’s been touch deprived.

“Oh! Sorry…” you giggle a little at the accidental stimulation, looking back up at Peter with a playful smile of your own. “Your turn!”

______________________________________________________________

part 2??