#look we all just hate that corporations are gonna use this shit as an excuse to strangle artists

[autopotion]

Remember how like a decade ago everyone on here loved predictive text bots, which all learned their "vocabulary" from asks, from phrases their creator fed to them, and from words and phrases just floating around tumblr? I still follow sbnkalny lol. Have for years. And that thing is constantly regurgitating mashed-up quotes from like, the Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages.

On an unrelated note, who here likes collages from magazine cutouts, or music that samples other songs, or blackout poetry? Or any other piece of art that uses someone else's art and transforms it in some way?

[justabumatthepark]

WAIT FIVE MINUTES

AND HE'S GONNA WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE

BUT I DON'T

😈😈😈

SO THAT'S A NO ON THE WHOLE DAADAA SITUATION?

🤭🤭🤭

4:46PM 9/10/24

STILL NOTHING?

WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE ON THIS TUMBLR UNTIL YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT DAADAA

AND OF COURSE HE'S JUST GONNA TALK OVER ME BECAUSE THAT'S EASIER THAN TALKING ABOUT DADDY APPARENTLY

SO WHAT'S UP PUTO FAG

WHEN DOES THE COUPON END

I MEAN IT ENDED LAST WEEK

BUT WHEN DOES IT END FOR YOU?

HUSHMOUTH?

AND FUCK NO I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND

IF THIS WAS A CORPORATION

YOU EITHER WOULD'VE NEVER GOTTEN THE CONTRACT

OR IT'S GETTING TERMINATED

"ALL MY FRIENDS ARE DEAD"

BUSINESS ONLY MY BOY

MONEY TALKS

BULLSHIT WALKS

PSYCHOLOGY CAN GATEWAY ME INTO ALL SORTS OF VENTURES

HOW Y'ALL WANNA MAKE MONEY

WORKING FOR PUTO FAG YOUR WHOLE LIFE

OR

TAKING IT FOR OURSELVES

MONOPOLY ACTIONS

KILL ME BITCH

BET YOU WON'T PUSSY

BUT DO IT RIGHT NOW BITCH

SHOW US YOU'RE RIGHTEOUS

"SHOOT THE BITCH IN THE HEAD WALK MYSELF TO THE COURT LIKE

YEAH I DID THAT"

"YOU KNOW IT'S SMOKE

CUSS WE AIN'T EVEN TAKE OFF HIS CHAIN" - 21 SAVAGE

OTHERWISE LET'S TALK ABOUT DADDY

I DON'T HAVE A DAD WHAT ABOUT YOU?

DID HE HIT YOU?

HOW MUCH MONEY HAVE YOU SPENT ON THIS BOUNTY?

"300,000"

GOTDAMN NIGGA

SO THAT BANK ACCOUNT LOADED HUH?

OH SO YOU ONLY RESPOND WHEN YOU THINK IT MAKES YOU SOUND/LOOK COOL

🤭😂😂😂😂

"FUCK YOU"

I'M SORRY I DID MEAN TO LAUGH AT YOU

😂😂😂

SO LIKE WHY ME BIG DAWG WHAT HAPPENED?

Tap in!

DM ME

YOU KNOW I REALLY DON'T THINK YOU'RE BULLSHITTING ABOUT THAT NUMBER MY BOY

DONATIONS ARE OPEN

100% ✅ SECURED

THE ODDS ARE 1 TO 1

DON'T BELIEVE ME

FACT CHECK ME 🤷🏽

OPEN TO OFFERS

Tap in!

DM ME

I'LL WORK WITH ANYONE BUT PUTO FAG

TELLING YOU AGAIN BECAUSE I GUESS YOU LIKE THINGS TO BE REPEATED TO YOU AND I LOVE DOING IT

😈😈😈

YOU PUT NO FUCKING FEAR IN MY HEART

NO BITCH THE REASON YOU'RE ADDICTED IS BECAUSE I FIGURED IT OUT

YOUR OTHER LITTLE FAGGOTS GOT ACCEPTED

BUT I'M NOT PART OF YOUR FAGGOT ASS CREW

"DO YOU SEE A "BORN TO LOSE" TATTOO ON MY FOREHEAD?"

"WE ARE NOT NICE PEOPLE"

YEAH, ME NEITHER BITCH

IF YOU WANT SMOKE

THEN

BITCH

I WANT THE SAME THANG

THERE IS ONLY ONE NUMBER ONE

AND ONE NUMBER TWO

ANYONE BELOW US IS JUST AN IDIOT

AND WE ARE BOTH THINKING IT

BECAUSE I KNOW FOR SURE NUMBER 3 IS THINKING IT

REMOVABLE DISK DRIVE FOR YOU GAMESTOP BELIEVERS

BUT LET GAMESTOP'S LITTLE SHIT FAIL IN THE NEXT TWO YEARS

THEN NO DISC DRIVE ON THE PS6

NOT LIKE MANY PEOPLE USE IT ANYWAYS

AND IF THEY CAN INCREASE THE NOTORIETY OF THE PLAYSTATION NAME BY LEAVING THE RETRO CONSOLES OUT AT A LOSS

ONLY TO CAPITALIZE ON DIGITAL COLLECTIONS ALL THE BETTER FOR SONY

SONY ALSO PATCHED THE PS3 SO ALL CURRENT MODS WOULD STOP WORKING

SO THEY REALLY WANNA CAPITALIZE ON THE WHOLE DIGITAL LIBRARIES DEAL

AS FAR AS RETRO CONSOLES GO

WELL

DK OLDIES AND EBAY DO IT BETTER

SORRY NOT SORRY 🤷🏽🤷🏽🤷🏽

SONY TENDS TO FOCUS ON CURRENT GEN NOT PREVIOUS GENS AS FAR BACK AS TWO OR THREE GENERATIONS BACK

SO GAMESTOP NEEDS TO WORK MIRACLES TO TRY TO GET THIS OFF IT'S FEET

6:35PM 9/10

"THEY IGNORE THE MESSAGE BECAUSE THEY HATE THE MESSENGER"

SO MONEY RIGHT?

I COULD FIND A BETTER USE FOR 300,000 THOUSAND TBH

NO NOW THAT I HAVE YOU HERE

ANSWER THIS

WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO WHEN THEY TAKE CONTROL OF THE MACHINE?

"OH I DON'T KNOW I'LL PROBABLY JUST LET IT GO"

OKAY CAN WE PROVE IT TODAY

LIKE RIGHT NOW

LET IT GO RIGHT NOW

600,000

WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR ALL THOSE EXCUSES EITHER

EITHER YOU CAN OR YOU CAN'T

"FUCK YOU"

GREAT ANSWER

100% ✅ SECURED

YOU FUCKING JUNKIE

SO YOU WOULD RATHER THROW AWAY ALL YOUR LIFE SAVINGS

INSTEAD OF GETTING RID OF SOME CHUMP CHANGE

YOUR WORDS NOT MINE

"YES, THAT'S HOW MUCH I FUCKING HATE YOU"

NEED ANY MORE PROOF MY GUYS?

FUCK CANCEL CULTURE 24' 🇺🇲

♾️

KISS MY RING

GODDAMN MY BOY

YOU DOIN' WAY TOO MUCH

TAKING MOVING A MOUNTAIN FOR SOMEBODY LITERALLY

YOU KILLIN MY VIBE

JUST SAY IT

YOU WANNA SUCK MY DICK AND MOVE ON WITH IT

HONESTLY NOW THAT WE ARE AT THE END

THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE WAS MID

YOU'RE PULLING OUT YOUR BEST

AND I'M BORED 🥱

SO HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE PUSHED THIS FAR?

"FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!!!"

SEE NOW I'M ENTERTAINED

😈😈😈

SHAKE MY HAND BITCH

IT'S CUSTOM HERE IN THE SOUTH

🤭🤭🤭

"BUT I STILL GOT YOU IN A CELL CAPTURED"

YEAH BUT IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE ADDICTED

HONESTLY THE DOOR IS WIDE OPEN FOR YOU TO LEAVE

BUT YOU CHOOSE TO STAY HERE

SO I ASK MYSELF

HOW MUCH MONEY WOULD A JUNKIE SPEND ON HIS ADDICTION FOR TORCHER?

"NOT A CENT MORE"

GOOD THEN YOU CAN DO THE JOB YOURSELF

AND THE KID COMES WITH US

ALONG WITH YOUR LITTLE MACHINE

🙂🙂🙂

DONATIONS ARE OPEN

COLLECT 200 AT GO

-PROCEEDS TO BLUFF-

🤭🤭🤭 HORRIBLE POKER PLAYERS

HE WILL PROBABLY TRY TO GET AS CLOSE TO KILLING ME AS POSSIBLE

BUT HE AIN'T GONNA KILL ME

I 100% GUARANTEE IT

TOO MUCH OF A BITCH

😈😈😈

AN ADDICT

I SAY THE BITCH IS SOMEWHERE STUCK BETWEEN 3 AND 5

🤔🤔🤔

HUSHMOUTH?

[pesterloglog]

Meenah Peixes, Karkat Vantas, Swifer Eggmop

Page 176-178

MEENAH: yo nubs is that u

MEENAH: pretty rank

KARKAT: OH MY GOD.

KARKAT: I FLATLY REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN SMELL MY NATURAL MUSK OVER THE STENCH OF BLOOD AND BURNING FLESH.

KARKAT: I CAN’T THINK OF ANYTHING MORE ASININE THAN YOU GETTING ON MY CASE ABOUT PERSONAL GROOMING ON THE BATTLEFIELD.

MEENAH: didnt i warn u bout thinking tho?

KARKAT: GOD DAMMIT MEENAH, DON’T MEME AT ME.

KARKAT: PEOPLE ARE DYING.

MEENAH: oh wow fuck u right

MEENAH: let me save all my jokes for that specific time in the foreseeable future when we arent all fightin for our lives

MEENAH: would that work for you commander

KARKAT: IF YOU AND THE REST OF THE GENERAL’S COUNCIL HADN’T INSISTED THAT I STAY OUT OF THE WORST OF THE FIGHTING, WE WOULDN’T HAVE THIS PROBLEM.

MEENAH: yeah cause youd be dead

MEENAH: u cant lead every charge

MEENAH: gotta be realistic boss

KARKAT: I KNOW THAT.

SWIFER: boss check the news!

KARKAT: OH FUCK.

MEENAH: what

KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST.

MEENAH: nubs i swear 2 god

KARKAT: IT’S GAMZEE.

KARKAT: HE’S DEAD.

MEENAH: oh

MEENAH: well shit

KARKAT: I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS.

MEENAH: u okay

KARKAT: NO!

MEENAH: u wanna talk about it

MEENAH: i know u and jellybulge had a thing

KARKAT: FIRST OF ALL--JELLYBULGE?

MEENAH: u outlawed fishpuns i gotta make my own fun

KARKAT: GROSS.

KARKAT: AND I GUESS IF YOU CALL AN OBSCENELY PUBLIC PALE ACT, PERFORMED IN A FUGUE OF DESPERATE PANIC INTENDED TO PREVENT HIM FROM MURDERING ALL OF MY FRIENDS INSTEAD OF JUST HALF OF THEM “A THING”.

KARKAT: THEN YES, I GUESS WE HAD A THING.

KARKAT: BUT IF YOU’RE ASKING ME IF I’M SAD THAT HE’S DEAD?

KARKAT: ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.

KARKAT: I HAVE HATED THIS PIECE OF BUBBLING, FECULENT CLOWNFLESH FOR DECADES, AND SO HAS EVERYONE ELSE WHO RESPECTS THEMSELVES.

KARKAT: REST IN THE POWERFUL GAZE OF MY ETERNAL LOATHING.

KARKAT: THAT’S NOT WHY I’M SAYING FUCK A BUNCH OF TIMES.

MEENAH: u need a reason to say fuck a buncha times

KARKAT: SHUT UP.

KARKAT: LOOK AT THE PICTURE.

MEENAH: kinda blurry

MEENAH: what am i supposed to be lookin at

KARKAT: I DON’T KNOW, MEENAH, AT THE PACK OF KIDS CARRYING A DEAD CLOWN?

KARKAT: THAT’S VRISKA.

MEENAH: oh yea i guess it is

MEENAH: always knew that fish was gonna grow up shady

KARKAT: WHAT? NO! NOT VRISKA MARYAM-LALONDE.

KARKAT: I MEAN, SHE’S THERE TOO. BUT BUT I’M TALKING ABOUT THE OTHER VRISKA! MY VRISKA.

KARKAT: FROM MY UNIVERSE. THIS VRISKA’S ANCESTOR. SHE’S HERE.

MEENAH: she a ghost or some shit

KARKAT: I DON’T THINK SO? I CAN’T SEE HER EYES IN THIS PICTURE, BUT SHE’S COVERED IN BLOOD, AND SHE’S CARRYING GAMZEE, SO SHE’S CORPOREAL AT LEAST.

KARKAT: UNLESS SHE HAS A FUCKING LIFE RING TOO. HOW MANY OF THOSE THINGS ARE THERE?

MEENAH: okay but who gives a shit how she got here nubs

MEENAH: maybe focus on the big picture

KARKAT: YOU’RE RIGHT. FUCK.

KARKAT: “CROCKER CORP CEO JANE CROCKER HAS CONDEMNED THE ASSASSINATION AS AN ACT OF TERROR, AND IS CALLING FOR THE PERPETRATORS’ ARREST.”

MEENAH: wait aint that her kid there holding up the clown ass

KARKAT: UH...WOW, THIS ARTICLE IS WAY TOO LONG. I HATE WAR CORRESPONDENTS, JESUS FUCK.

KARKAT: OKAY...HERE. OH. OF COURSE. CROCKER IS CLAIMING HER SON WAS KIDNAPPED AND FORCED TO PARTICIPATE.

KARKAT: AND THEY’VE NAMED ME AS THE MASTERMIND.

MEENAH: well we woulda taken credit for it anyway so this saves us the time

MEENAH: thanks jane owe u one

KARKAT: SHIT.

KARKAT: THE TIDE OF PUBLIC OPINION IS DEFINITELY TURNING AGAINST JANE.

MEENAH: thats good tho right

MEENAH: thats what we want

KARKAT: WHAT WE WANT IS TO STEER THE CONVERSATION IN OUR FAVOR SO MORE PEOPLE JOIN OUR CAUSE.

KARKAT: WHAT WE DON’T WANT IS TO GIVE THE PRESIDENT AN EXCUSE TO ENACT MARTIAL LAW.

KARKAT: SHIT. OF COURSE THIS WOULD HAVE TO DO WITH FUCKING SERKET.

KARKAT: LITERAL MONTHS OF PLANNING, HOURS AND HOURS OF LOGISTICS, AND ALL OF IT GOES UP IN SMOKE BECAUSE OF ONE SPIDERY ASSHOLE.

KARKAT: SHE *WOULD* FIND SOME WAY TO WRECK MY SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE.

MEENAH: yeah it sucks

MEENAH: so what are ur orders boss

KARKAT: NOW?

KARKAT: NOW WE PIVOT FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS.

KARKAT: I NEED TO TALK TO EGBERT.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3309

a bunch of stuff happened today that we had to report on. and our cameras went down, so i had to talk to people to fix it.

but something happened that was the rudest possible thing i could imagine someone doing:

asking a man and getting his opinion after they ask me because clearly i know nothing.

like excuse me?? this child you're speaking to now is sitting right next to me. we have the same job. we're looking at the same thing. why do you need HIS opinion??? bitch who the fuck do you think i am and what the fuck do you think i'm doing????? this is my fucking job?? he is not my fucking boss??? i've been here longer than he has???? i'm the one who brought this to you and he said the exact fucking same thing that i did????

BULLSHIT.

fuck the IT department and their sexism. fuck that, fuck them, fuck all of it. absolutely the fuck not will anyone speak to me like that, will speak over me like that. it's not o-fucking-kay.

it's not fucking okay.

in any environment??? especially not a corporate environment. i don't care what your background is. you don't need to ask a man in my exact same job position what he thinks about it. and it's because they fucking listened to him that it didn't have the urgency that it needed to have???? he said it was a P3 when it should have been a P1. priority 3 versus priority 1. priority 1 is the top priority. the system is responsive for 571 cameras. it was DOWN for TWO FUCKING HOURS. that's not a big deal???? absolutely the FUCK IT IS. jesus christ. i'm gonna reach out to HR or something, because that was not fucking okay. none of it was. and they fucking talked over the actual people who were the ones who can explain things???

but if they'd just fucking listened to me when i told them to reboot the server, it would've saved all of us a lot of time and effort and anger.

but no, because i sound like a woman and i have a feminine name i couldn't possibly know anything about computers.

fuck that.

i'm angry.

jesus fucking christ i hate people.

anyway.

after dealing with that shit this morning, the afternoon was quiet. i left work and had to pass off another task to the night shift dealing with something similar to what had happened earlier but it was a localized issue somewhere else.

but i stopped at the mall for dinner since joel is away for the weekend and my coworker got sarku japan for lunch and it sounded so good so i got some for dinner, and i got ice cream, and i came home and i started watching bnha again. i stopped in season 3. i'm finally on the provisional licensing test. the first test just ended.

i forgot how much i love this show. also? i've been watching the dub instead of the sub like i usually do, and shindo's voice actor for the dub also voices adrien in miraculous ladybug. i was like "why do i know his voice" and that's why. another favorite show.

anyway, i'm tired as fuck because it's now 1am and i've been awake for 21 hours. time to pass out.

also i'm going to spend some time with joel tomorrow so i'm happy about that. i haven't seen him all week.

[cinnamon-bunni]

HEY HI SO IT'S STILL HALLOWEEN FOR ME IN MY TIMEZONE AND NOT YET MIDNIGHT AND I FINISHED THIS PIECE AS QUICK AS I COULD SO UHHHHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LIAM!! (please excuse all the issues, i did not look through this whatsoever <;3) Read it on Ao3! Word count: 2.9k

Liam hated the way the others were staring at him. Well, no, more specifically, he hated how his so-called friends were staring at him. All he was trying to do was get the perfect picture of his (quite frankly) disgusting vegan mac-and-cheese the school was serving, and they couldn’t even let him do that. They all whispered in a way that made his ears twitch, because try as he might to listen to what they were saying, he couldn’t pick up a single word. Not that he wanted to know, of course not, he didn’t give two shits on what people thought of them.

But…knowing would be nice. On why they were obviously talking about him, literally behind his back.

“You know Polly, just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you don’t cast a shadow.” At some point she ended up a few feet away, instead of a table or two away like the others.

“Uh, Li, I’m pretty sure being a ghost means literally that.”

“Then how are you blocking my lighting?”

“Am I? Huh, maybe that’s another ghost thing. You know how we ghosts are! Always unable to keep track if we’re translucent, corporeal, casting shadows and whatnot. Anyhoo!” She slid into the seat across from him. She perched her elbows up on the table, resting her head in her hand. “Do you have anything planned for Halloween?”

He gave an aggravated sigh. So this was what they were whispering about. “No Polina. As usual, I will stay at home for the night.”

“Aw, c’mon! Why not? It’s the great Hallow’s Eve, let’s go out for once, together!”

“No thank you. As much as I am one to not practice habits and love to destroy all sense traditions and rituals, this one I think I’ll keep up.”

“But there’s gonna be a huge Halloween party! We’ll put on some loud music, drink until we get sick, use every type of drug there is and more, and have crazy sex. Probably even end the night with orgy.”

“And that’s different from every other party, how exactly?”

“Costumes, duh. Like, extremely sexy costumes.” She pointed over behind Liam. “Also Damien’s hosting.”

Her smile faltered a bit, turning into a confused look. Liam turned around to see what was happening, and was met with Damien sitting on the table, making quick cut motions across his neck. Liam stared at him with the most deadpan stare he could muster, as he was not impressed with either of their antics. At least Vera nearby knew to stay out of his own business, why couldn’t Polly and Damien by the same?

When he made eye contact with Damien, the demon slowly stopped the motion, and hopped down to only sit back up again, but now at Liam’s table. Liam wished for the bell to just ring already.

“It’s not at my place, stop telling lies,” he hissed. Polly responded by sticking her tongue out at him. “It’s gonna be in that one human city nearby,” he continued, as Polly’s invisible jabs went ignored, “and me and Scott were gonna go. Wanna come with?”

“I thought Polly was going to go?” Why had she even brought it up in the first place if she wasn’t going?”

“Sorry boo, but a different party is calling my name! Maybe I’ll see you guys later in the night though.”

“Hm. Either way, I’m not going.”

“Aw, come on dude! Just once will you leave and party with us? We don't even have to go to a party, we can go to one of those shitty hipster restaurants that you like so much. Or! Or, we could go see a dumb movie–your choice! I'm pretty sure there's some out playing in theaters tonight, we can go and you can make fun of it and all of its clichés all night long, while I get to enjoy the gore. And Scott can eat all of our snacks."

"I'd prefer to watch something in the privacy of my own home. And pirate it. Because then at least the movie makers won't get any money out of it and will regret the day they decided to hire an actor based on their name and not their ability."

"Okay, fine, Jesus, no movie."

"Oh, how about a concert?" Polly suggested. "I'm sure there are a ton of bands playing tonight. Just go sneak into one of those!"

"Why can't I just be left alone?" Liam asked with a sigh. "Honestly, what is up with you two? You've always left me alone to my own devices, so why today of all days? Why this year?"

"Because it's Halloween!" Polly said, as if that explained everything and made him want to go out, "and you deserve to go out and have fun! Seriously, all you ever do is brood. And like, why not go out and enjoy yourself?"

"And besides, it's Hallow-fucking-een! The one night where we can trick the dumb humans that we're just them in paint and costumes. You can get all the free blood ya want without any consequence!"

"Damien, I can get free blood on any day of the year. It really isn't that hard to trick a human, especially with sex."

"Yeah, but it's more fun! We just want you to have some fucking fun, asshole!"

"Well, my type of fun is staying at home, and 'brooding', as Polly so exquisitely put it." God, what was he doing? Why was he even bothering with this in the first place? Why did they care so much? Halloween was just like any other day, there was no reason to celebrate. It was a human-made holiday created out of pure greed and the need for money, and the need to capitalize off of everything until it inevitably loses its meaning. It was just a normal day to Liam, nothing more. What even was the passage of time to an immortal being such as him?

"Now, if you excuse me, I have to get going. I have classes to get to and art made by students that needs to be judged ruthlessly." He left the cafeteria, with Polly’s groans and Damien’s pounding of the fist to the table going through one ear and out the other. He didn’t want to deal with any of this. He just wanted the day to be over already, with everything forgotten.

~~~

Later in the day, he finally got home. Finally, Liam was able to relax alone, in his own space. He could finally just put everything behind him, and move on like normal. As he reached to unlock the door, a hand caught his arm. The red hand squeezed his arm tight, and was quick to pull him away.

“Gh–Damien! Where the hell are you taking me?” He wasn’t even able to put his keys away. Damien’s grip was strong and never tired as he led Liam down the apartment stairs and out onto the sidewalk. “Let go of me!”

“No way dude! You and I, we’re going out in the city tonight, whether you like it or not.” Liam could hear that damned smirk that the demon undoubtedly wore. Liam tightened his fist, the grooves of his keys stabbing into his skin. He continued though, keeping up with Damien’s pace.

Surprisingly, Damien didn’t say much. He hoped that the man could feel the daggers that he was glaring, but knowing Damien, he didn’t care. “Where are we even going?” He had a sneaking suspicion though, that Damien himself didn’t know.

“I don’t know.” Aaaaand there it was. “But, what I do know is that we’re going to have some fucking fun, got it.”

“Oh, forced fun. How lovely. Because surely being dragged around like a sad mutt by my friend will make me smile and just make my day. Maybe next you can drag me to a birthday party where we’ll eat cake and open presents and sing happy birthday. And force feed me some O negative type blood, because that will surely be delicious.” He hoped the venom stung, but he knew it wouldn’t. Damien was always thick-skinned. But all Damien did was tightened his grip even more so, and continued to walk.

They ended up at some sort of dive-in bar. It probably just caught Damien’s eye, and he wanted to go somewhere. He very much doubted that this was their actual end destination, but Liam also knew that Damien had no plan whatsoever.

The night consisted of Liam refusing to drink any of their blood that they had (while kind of them that they had that in stock, it was the most disgusting shit he had ever tasted, and he was pretty sure all blood was supposed to taste relatively the same), and him stewing quietly in his thoughts. Damien himself was either talking it up with the bartender, trying to strike up conversations with Liam (who would shoot him down at every chance), and checking his phone every three minutes. Not uncommon, Liam supposed, but something about it felt…off.

Liam pushed his drink away, towards the bartender. “Are we done here?” he asked. “Because I want to go.” Why couldn’t he just go home? He had a canvas and unopened paints calling his name, and spending the night with a demon who was clearly preoccupied was not how he wanted to spend it.

“What? No! Wait, just-” Damien pulled out his phone, quick to unlock it. “Don’t you wanna do something else? Anything that’s, say…thirty minutes long?”

“Damien.”

“Okay, twenty-five!”

“Damien.” God fucking dammit, Liam was tired. He just wanted to go home. “I’ll forgive you for this whole night if you let me go now.”

“But-”

“Have a nice night.” Liam got up, and once again left Damien behind. A large yell could be heard from inside of the establishment, but Liam continued as the bells rang when the door closed. Damien then caught up with him. Great.

“Jesus fuck, fine! Just–slow walk, yeah? Let’s enjoy the starry night sky?”

“Damien, we literally can’t see shit because of the light pollution.”

“Yeah but like, we can still appreciate the one or two stars, yeah?” Liam didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to walk the empty street, with Damien following suit, until the demon spoke up again. “Okay yeah, star watching is boring as shit.”

Liam kept in a chuckle. “Yes, well, I’m sure it’s a lot more beautiful when you escape the city.”

Damien gave a hum. “Scott and Polly are gonna go road tripping this summer. Maybe we should go with them.”

“Maybe.” It wouldn’t be bad, he supposed, but definitely after having a few weeks to himself. Scott and Polly weren’t the worst, not by a long shot, but they, especially together, could be a lot. Though, he could say that for just about all of his friends. Didn’t mean they weren’t bad, just…a lot to deal with. Like earlier that day, with Polly and Damien, and Liam being left annoyed by the two. They cared, which warmed his undead heart a bit, but…they were just a handful.

By the time they arrived back at Liam’s apartment, he had cooled down just a bit from his anger towards Damien. Still pissed, just a bit, but nothing more than that. Why Damien was still hanging out behind him as he reached into his pocket for his keys though, Liam wasn’t sure.

“Something you need?” he asked. Damien didn’t answer, and Liam unlocked the door.

“Wait, uh-” Liam paused. Just seconds away from escaping this hell and so close to sweet freedom and isolation.

“Yes, Damien?”

“I know you were being sarcastic and shit when you were talking about the birthday party and stuff but uh, how would you feel if we did throw you one? Not that we are or anything! But like…how would you feel if we did?”

Oh, Liam did not like where this was going. “Well, considering how often I have made it clear that my birthday is not something I want celebrated, I would be very very pissed off. But luckily that is something I don’t have to worry about, because my good friends all know how to respect my decisions and boundaries. Right?”

“Yeah. Right.” With a turn of the knob, Liam walked into his apartment, his sweet home, and was met with many people inside. All who were doing a poor job of hiding.

“Wait, fuck-”

“Ah shit-”

“Oh, surprise!” Scott was the first to shout it, with a chorus following him. Liam whipped over to face Damien.

“You did this,” he hissed, pointing an accusing finger at him. Damien raised his hands up, as if to show that he was guilt-free.

“Hey, don’t blame me! I was just hired to get you out of this apartment. And Scott was gonna join us originally, which would’ve been a lot better, but then they needed his help with decorations and presents, so then it was just me to make sure you didn’t come back early. Which didn’t work out in the end anyway.” He shrugged. “So really, I’m not to blame. If you wanna blame someone, blame Polly.”

“Hey!”

“You’re the one who came up with the stupid idea in the first place! I told you Liam wouldn’t like having a party. And this is the most half-assed party I’ve ever seen!”

“Well sorry, Mr. I-throw-literal-galas-for-my-birthday! You only gave us an hour and a half to prep, decorate the place, bake the cake, and wrap all the presents!”

“That was plenty of fucking time!”

“Are you two really arguing over this?” Liam asked indecorously. “First you ruin my day even more, and now you try and throw blame around when all of you did this?” 

Suddenly, a hand placed itself on top of his. He looked down at Miranda, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. 

“Now now, Liam; how about we look at the cake! Polly and Lester baked it themselves, and I helped by getting my serfs to decorate it! Surely that will brighten your mood.” Liam wanted to argue that it honestly wouldn’t, that she didn’t understand, but she gently guided him across the apartment to the kitchenette.

“Oh yeah, the cake! Turns out baking is like, all chemistry and science and shit, which I’m really good at. Who knew!”

“Miranda,” Liam started, as she led him across the whole living space, “why is my couch covered in glass and blood stains?”

She giggled politely, hand up to cover her mouth. “Oh, that? I asked my serfs to make a lovely decoration of a pyramid made out of glasses filled with blood! But then an incident happened, Scott knocked into it, and it sadly fell.” She sighed. “Disappointing, really. My serfs should’ve known better really, to give it a better structure down at the base. But my cleaning serfs should be here soon, and your couch will be as good as new! Oh, the cake!” She picked up the plate for the cake. A simple drip cake, with a simple layer of purple frosting, with a simple drip of black over the sides. All-in-all, a very simple cake. He tried his best not to hate it.

On the top was icing that spelled out “Happy Birthday Liam!” with lots of curls and hearts around it. A very sweet message, one that Liam might’ve smiled at if he didn’t hate it so.

“So? What do you think?” Oh, Miranda was looking up at him with such an expectant look. So were Polly, Damien, and the others, Liam was sure. 

“It’s…thoughtful. Thank you, all of you.”

“Wait, we still got presents!” Suddenly, a present, wrapped in Halloween themed wrapping paper (who knew that was even a thing?), was shoved into his hands. Polly had a bright smile. “C’mon, open it up, open it up!”

He sighed, but did so. He cut through the tape with his nails, unwrapping it in a strategic movement. Inside was a book–more specifically, a copy of Frankenstein. 

“I sorta bought this for me, but then I thought, ‘hey! Liam might really like this book!’ so I decided to buy another copy. We could read it together, and start, like, a book club but for cool people. It’ll be awesome.” Liam decided against telling her that he had already read it, time and time again, back when it first came out. 

“...Thank you. Now, while I do appreciate this, I really think-”

“Ooh, do mine next!” Scott, from the other side of the apartment, scampered to get his present. Liam watched, a mixture of astonishment and bewilderment and happiness and exasperation and sadness and other emotions he didn’t even know how to describe going through his cold heart. It almost felt too much. The stinging in his eyes said so too, even though he’d never let them tell.

“Happy birthday, dude!” Scott said happily, shoving his own messily wrapped present into his arms. “Vera and Zoe should be back soon–they’re filling up the balloons right now at the Balloon Store–and then you can open their presents!”

“Hey, don’t forget mine,” Damien added. He shot Liam a manic grin. “Mine’s fucking awesome. Though I kinda had to leave it in Hell, since I’m pretty sure it would burn down this whole place the second it gets in here. But trust me, it’s fucking metal as all hell, you’ll love it.”

Liam hated his birthday. Why were the others trying so hard to make him enjoy it? Why were his friends so determined to do this for him? He clutched onto the present a bit tighter, until he decided to open it before Scott exploded from anticipation.

Huh. His friends really did care, didn’t they?

[bondsmagii]

As an artist who happens to do some NSFW work, I have slowly watched the internet grow more and more inhospitable to anyone who doesn't produce "pure" (e.g. marketable), censored, corporate-friendly art. It's fucking disheartening, even more so to see most of the art community congratulate it as if censorship has EVER been a good thing for art. NSFW getting banned from site after site should alarm fucking everyone. But sexual content (hell, even artistic nudes) is an "acceptable" target

I hate the corporate internet. I hate the bootlickers who celebrate whenever a platform gets censored. The internet does not need to be "child friendly", that's just republican purity rhetoric repackaged. "Think of the children" always seems to arise especially whenever it comes to queer content,. My content ISN'T for kids. I don't want them to look at it, I shouldn't have to just stop posting or stoo making art on the chance a kid may see it bc they're lying about their age to see adult content

the way I've always seen it is that "think of the children!!" tends to be a dogwhistle. who it's a dogwhistle for depends on the situation, but it's always a dogwhistle for a bunch of people who are actually personally uncomfortable over some other aspect of the issue, but who recognise that stating this outright will not win them popular support. so for example, fundamentalist Christian groups crying "think of the children!" so they can target any kind of LGBT content or expression, from gay characters in TV shows to the right for guy couples to marry. or TERFs crying "think of the children!" so they can target trans people, most likely trans women in particular. or even apparently progressive Terminally Online leftists crying "think of the children!" so they can demand increasing censorship, all based on the fact that they don't like the content so they feel it should be banned forever. I am immediately suspicious of any argument that appeals to some idealised vulnerable victim group, because I have not yet seen an example of this where the real motives haven't been insidious and completely incompatible with my own morals. if your campaign has the same slogan as TERFs and alt-right conspiracy theorists, it's maybe time to have a good long think.

I totally agree with the fact that the internet shouldn't be family friendly, too. I think it should be like any open public space -- there should be dedicated areas where children can go and be safe, under supervision from a responsible adult. but there should also be places where adults can go and be safe from the risk of being held responsible for someone else's unaccompanied child seeing something they shouldn't. it's not our responsibility to look after other people's children. we have a responsibility to stay out of dedicated spaces for them, such as children's game websites and forums, but with technology how it is today there's no excuse for a child to be allowed free, unattended reign on the internet. it's the parent or guardian's responsibility to ensure that their child is using the internet safely. the real reason that websites bleat on about being "family friendly" is because that's code for "advertiser friendly", and as always, this is all about money.

finally, I'm gonna fucking say it. kids reach a certain point, probably their mid-teens, where a lot of them are going to be curious about fucked up shit. this might be looking up dark shit on a Wikipedia binge, or wanting to have a laugh at weird porn, or even wanting to test themselves with endurance games like shock sites and gore. this is normal fucking behaviour, and I think it should be allowed. you very quickly find out if its not for you, and with no major harm done. not to mention all of the people I know who were into dark shit as teens have grown up to be perfectly normal adults with a good grasp of their limits and an idea of how to sensibly consume and interact with dark media. the biggest freaks out there are the fluffy cottagecore positivity happy ending people, who are often pro-censorship and not above sending harassment and threats to people who love fictional villains. I truly believe that the complete avoidance of any dark themes and the refusal to interact with anything that isn't safe or happy leads to a noticeable decrease in empathy. these people interact with the world based only upon what makes them feel good, and inherently this prevents them from interacting with situations without putting themselves at the centre of it.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Request (from this post):

@scarlet-gryphon suggested: Modern pre-3zun AU where for whatever reason, Meng Yao is challenged to do a tough rock climbing wall. Cue the italicized ‘ohs’ from Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue at his flexibility. (also posted to Ao3)

This kind of thing is very much outside of my usual wheelhouse of ideas so thank you so much for the challenge, it was super refreshing! Hope you like it ^_^

--

Fucking work retreats.

“ ‘It’ll be fun’ he says,” Meng Yao grumbles to himself as he plasters an extremely fake (perhaps slightly manic) smile on his face. “ ‘Lighten up, A-Yao’ he says,” he mocks again, his grin twisting into a mocking sneer for just a split second before he smooths it away again.

The benefit of being wildly unpopular is that no one milling around stops him on his hunt to try to chat, and finally after a few minutes of prowling he finds his prey.

“Nie Huaisang,” he says icily and he has the immense pleasure of seeing the Jiang Corporation heir and his brother look sharply at him over Nie Huaisang’s shoulders in (slightly eerie) synchronicity, both of them looking sufficiently aware of whatever it is they see on his face that promises danger for Nie Huaisang. Of course it’s in their own ways, which means Jiang Wanyin glares first at him and then at Nie Huaisang, and Wei Wuxian’s usual happy grin goes a bit manic as well, eyes glittering as he scents fresh mischief.

“A-Yao, there you are!” Nie Huaisang cries far too cheerfully as he turns, his ever-present fan already fluttering nervously in front of his chest. Why he insists on carrying that thing everywhere he goes Meng Yao doesn’t understand whatsoever, but he’s currently wishing he had the guts to tug it from his hands and snap it right in half.

“Could I speak to you for a moment?”

The fluttering of his fan gets a little faster. “Ahhhh hah, but we’re about to get started!! You know how da-ge is, hit the ground running and all that. Can’t it wait?”

“No,” he says with such a poisonously sweet smile and a faux-innocent little tilt of his head that even Wei Wuxian takes a step back, the brothers leaving their best friend high and dry to face his wrath alone. Sensible of them.

He holds his arm out for Nie Huaisang to take and, with no safe alternative options, the other man reluctantly takes it and lets himself be led away from listening ears.

“Now, A-Yao -”

“When were you planning to inform me that my father’s company would also be present at this retreat?”

“Oh good, you already know! So now the answer doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep, A-Sang. I’m in charge of our company’s hotel assignments. I know exactly where to find you.”

“Aiyah you do not, who in the world stays in their own hotel room during company retreats? Well I guess some people have to, But I definitely don’t. I’ve already found myself better accommodation,” he says breezily, flicking his fan shut to tap him on the forearm a couple of times. “And you’ll lighten up a little if you do too! I heard the Lans are coming~,” he adds, his glance at him out of the corner of his eye far too sly. Meng Yao can’t quite resist glaring at him right back. Nie Huaisang just walked headfirst into dangerous territory, but part of him (a very small part of him) can admire that his sort-of-friend, sort-of-employer is daring enough to tease him when he’s clearly irritated.

“You’re horrendous,” he replies sweetly and Nie Huaisang laughs as he turns them around to head back towards where everyone else is gathered.

“Oh hush, stop glaring at me and go find Xichen-ge, stare at him until you feel better. I’ll bet he’s dressed casuallyyyy~~,” he teases as he snaps his fan open again to flutter it and add to the flirtatious lilt in his tone.

“Lan Zhan!!!!” Wei Wuxian suddenly cries loudly enough to carry over the general chatter and in the next instant he goes flying across the spacious hotel lobby, a blur of black and red as Jiang Wanyin shouts after him for him to stop. Nie Huaisang giggles at his side behind his fan as heads turn to watch Wei Wuxian’s progress to where the Lans have stopped to check in.

“Oh perfect timing, and you won’t even have to waste any time searching! Wei-xiong is so useful, don’t you think?”

Meng Yao says nothing, just glares at Nie Huaisang until the man winks over his fan and carefully extricates himself from where their arms are linked to return to Jiang Wanyin’s side to pat his shoulder as the man fumes. Meng Yao sighs and after a moment he follows in the bemused wake Wei Wuxian had left behind himself on his way to his boyfriend. Though the retreat isn’t being held on any participating company’s actual properties, the Nie Corporation is still technically hosting it so it’s not entirely out of character for him to go and greet the new arrivals.

And if Lan Xichen’s smile when their eyes meet makes his frustration with Nie Huaisang and the presence of his own family melt away like snow in spring, then that’s his own business.

----

A few days into the retreat, Nie Mingjue’s patience is at its limit. He hates these things, he can’t remember just why the hell he let Nie Huaisang talk him into hosting this bullshit, but he can’t change it now. At least the Lans agreed to come - without Lan Xichen here to force him to enjoy himself he really would have become too miserable to bother staying for the whole retreat, he would’ve already packed up and dragged Meng Yao home with him to get back to work. Not that it would take much dragging, most likely. Meng Yao is as much of a workaholic as himself, maybe even more of one (which he hadn’t thought was possible prior to meeting him), and the Jins have been extra insufferable to him on top of that. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if Meng Yao was looking for an easy out of the whole affair.

“Oh dear,” Lan Xichen says softly at his side and Nie Mingjue pulls himself out of his ruminations to glance at him and then look at where he’s focusing on only to sigh as he spots Meng Yao being harassed by his horrible cousin - again.

“How long has that spoiled brat been talking to him this time?” Nie Mingjue growls as he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and flexes his fingers a few times. God he’d like to use that asshole’s face as a punching bag. Mostly because he feels like Meng Yao would appreciate it and Nie Mingjue is maybe slightly too interested in doing things that make Meng Yao get that pleased little smirk on his face. But in his defense it’s also because he’s seen that smirking face far too many times to not want to rearrange it a little. If it happens to be because he’s bothering Meng Yao then that’s the perfect excuse, just two birds with one stone.

“About a minute, but it seems that’s long enough to behave unpleasantly,” Lan Xichen sighs, crossing his arms over his chest in a rare show of open disapproval, his lips turned down in an uncharacteristic frown. “What could he and his friends possibly have to bother him about now?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I’m gonna beat the shit out of him, I’m tired of this.”

“Mingjue!” Lan Xichen cautions with a sudden grip on his arm. “Please, don’t embarrass A-Yao and make a scene, it won’t help him.”

“Well what do you want me to do?! We can’t just leave him over there.”

“Ah...I believe we are not his only knights in shining armor,” Lan Xichen says, suddenly sounding amused and Nie Mingjue follows his gaze again to see Wei Wuxian, of all people, shoving his way through the crowd looking positively gleeful at the sign of trouble brewing, Lan Wangji trailing along behind him as serenely as ever. Such a weird pair, in his opinion. And of course, because it’s Wei Wuxian, his voice carries perfectly over the general hubbub of people chatting and the clink of carabiners from the people currently scaling the rock wall they’re all supposed to be taking turns climbing.

“Meng Yao!” Wei Wuxian cries and Nie Mingjue can see the man in question’s shoulders tighten all the way from here as Wei Wuxian throws his arm around them to lounge against him. “Are you holding back to spare the rest of us from having to watch you kick our asses without breaking a sweat? Oh. Hey asswipe.”

“Wei Wuxian!”

Nie Mingjue snickers just a little at the scandalized tone in Jin Zixun’s voice, and even Lan Xichen chuckles softly next to him.

“Yeah? Hi uh...hm. Can’t say I remember your name, Jin something-or-other, right? No, don’t tell me, it doesn’t matter and I want to keep thinking your name is ‘Asswipe’.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“Problem? I don’t have one. What’s yours?”

Lan Wangji says something then, far too low to carry the way Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixun’s voices do, but whatever it is makes Wei Wuxian laugh and turn to Meng Yao. He lets go of him to turn and face Meng Yao fully, putting his back to Jin Zixun, but whatever he says next is lost in the noise of someone reaching the top of the wall and hitting the buzzer. 

“Are you sure we should trust whatever Wei Wuxian just did to solve this?” Nie Mingjue grumbles, already knowing what his best friend’s answer will be.

“He’s a good man,” Lan Xichen replies, because of course he does. “I trust him wholeheartedly, and it’s a good solution don’t you think? Everyone expects him to make a scene anyway, A-Yao need not be embarrassed about being rescued if it’s him.”

“Are we sure he even fixed whatever’s going on?” Nie Mingjue watches Meng Yao square his shoulders and step up to take a spot next to one of the employees at the rock wall and he can’t help but frown, still concerned. “A-Yao didn’t want to participate.”

But then he’s quickly strapped into a harness around his hips and thighs and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just….watch...for a second...

Lan Xichen’s slightly choked noise at his side is all the confirmation he needs that they’re in agreement. 

Nie Mingjue tears his eyes away from Meng Yao just long enough to see that he’s lined up with the rest of the Jin employees that are in attendance and he blinks as he realizes what’s going on.

“This is Wei Wuxian’s solution?” he snaps. “To put A-Yao up against his stupid cousin and his cronies? He’s supposed to get A-Yao away from them!”

“Patience, Mingjue, trust Wei Wuxian’s methods, he knows what he’s doing,” Lan Xichen soothes, returning his hand to his arm though he still hasn’t looked away from Meng Yao as the man listens to the instructions and allows himself to be fitted with a rope attached to the front of the harness.

“You just like seeing A-Yao tied up.”

“Mm. Multiple things can be true at once.” 

Nie Mingjue snorts at that but shakes his head in defeat and goes back to watching, staying still as Lan Xichen subtly steps closer to him and tucks his hand into the crook of his elbow as the start timer counts down from five.

Whatever Nie Mingjue was expecting before the competition started, it certainly wasn’t what ends up happening as soon as the buzzer sounds.

His eyes go wide as he watches Meng Yao instantly take the lead by putting his foot above his head and launching himself a full body-length up the wall while everyone else is still trying to find their first handhold.

“Oh my god,” Lan Xichen breathes at his side and Nie Mingjue is in full agreement. Meng Yao practically flies up the wall, taking the lead by miles simply by virtue of skipping over at least five footholds at a time to get to the highest one he can reach - which is never lower than rib- or shoulder-height.

Nie Mingjue has never seen anything like it and he can’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t even hesitate, he just makes these impossible jumps and pulls until he smacks the buzzer at the top and turns to sit on the top of the wall, feet dangling and the dimples in his cheeks visible even from this distance as he grins down at the others still halfway down the rest of the wall.

“Oh shit,” it’s Nie Mingjue’s turn to exclaim as Meng Yao wiggles his fingers in a little wave while Jin Zixun slips and falls a few feet before tension gets applied to his rope, leaving him dangling in front of the hardest course on the wall like a sack of turnips.

“That was..oh my.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So flexible,” Nie Huaisang pipes up suddenly from his other side and Nie Mingjue doesn’t yelp but he comes close.

“Huaisang!!”

“Hi da-ge, er-ge. Enjoying the view? It’s very scenic.”

“Don’t be crude, A-Sang,” Lan Xichen chastises without any heat and Nie Huaisang snorts.

“I’m not the one checking out Meng Yao’s ass like a couple of creeps. He’ll want a drink this evening, by the way - he hates dealing with his family.” Nie Huaisang leans forward to look up pointedly first at him and then at Lan Xichen next to him. “Maybe even two drinks.”

“I can feel you winking at me, A-Sang,” Lan Xichen says with a smirk without taking his eyes off Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang laughs behind his fan. 

“Good, then we’re on the same page! Does this mean I should tell Wei-xiong not to talk him into going up there again or do you need more convincing?”

Nie Mingjue coughs at that and does his best to glare. “No one said he has to stop. If he wants to go again to prove his point to that smarmy jackass cousin of his then who are we to stop him?”

“Subtle, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang drawls. He stretches his arms above his head with a little sigh before he steps away to look at them over his shoulder with a sly wink. “As many times as he’s willing to go, then? Noted, I’ll let Wei-xiong know right away,” he teases and then he’s off with a laugh.

“Well. That was..”

“We’re definitely buying him drinks tonight, right?” Nie Mingjue checks and Lan Xichen’s responding hum is perfectly easy to interpret as they watch Meng Yao rappel down the wall and set up to go again. “Good.”

[jk-unless]

Tuwaine’s Friend

Pairing(s):Tom Holland x Black!Reader,Platonic!Tuwaine Barrett x Black!Reader

Warnings: None

Not Requested

~*~

You and Tuwaine became fast friends while he was visiting the states back in 2015. You ran into each other at a McDonalds.A middle aged woman was making a big scene about her order being made wrong.Tuwaine,who was in front of you in line,turned towards you and asked you if this was something that happened often.

“You mean at McDonalds?Have you never been here?”You asked,more curious than trying to be rude.

“Oh,I actually meant the states in general.” He clarified.The use of the term “the states” made everything click.

“Oooh,you’re not from here!Yeah,sadly,this is a pretty normal thing.It’s best to get a woman like her’s order exactly right the first time or there will be a scene.”

Tuwaine sighs in frustration. “I’m just trying to eat.”

“Don’t worry,it won’t be too much longer before she storms off.”You comforted him.As you said this,the woman let out a final obnoxious sigh.

“I will be calling corporate about this!” She angrily grabbed her takeout bag and stomped out of the restaurant.

“Thank God.” Tuwaine muttered quietly so only you could hear him.You giggled as he walked up to the counter.The cashier apologized about the scene to which Tuwaine assured her it was alright.He gave her his order then turned to you again.

“...And whatever the nice lady behind me wants.”

Your eyes widened a bit.”You sure?” You asked,taken back by the kindness.He nodded with a small smile.You thanked him then proceeded with your order.

The two of you ate together and talked about anything that came to mind.He eventually explained to you that it was actually his last day there before he went back home.Not wanting this to be last time you talked to the sweet guy, you decided to exchange numbers to keep in touch.

~*~

Now in present day,Tuwaine fools around with Tom between scenes of Spider-Man:Far From Home.As Tuwaine laughs about something with Tom,he gets a text from one of the staff members that someone by the name of Y/N L/N was there to see him.

“Oh shit,she’s here!” He exclaimed,jumping up out of his spot.

“Wait,the girl you mentioned earlier?I’m not ready!” Tom says,dramatically running to the nearest mirror to try to fix his hair.

“You’re Tom Holland,she’ll be happy to see you no matter what you look like.” He rolls his eyes at his friend’s desperate attempt to look more put together.In a matter of minutes,the two of them hear a knock on the door of Tom’s trailer.Tuwaine whips open the door and smiles when he sees you.He pulls you in and tackles you in a bear hug to which let out a startled and happy laugh.Tom smiles at the pure interaction in front of him.As Tuwaine let’s go of you,he finally introduces the two of you.

“Tom,Y/N.Y/N,Tom.” He motions between the two of you.

“Hi,it’s really nice to meet you.” Tom says with a bright smile that makes your face heat up.These are times where you’re happy that your melanin hides your shyness.

“Nice to meet you too,Tom.And may I just say,you’re even more attractive in person.”You say,making it Tom’s turn to blush.You discreetly watch in the corner of your eye as Tuwaine rolls his eyes.

“I can say the same about you!The pictures Tuwaine showed me didn’t do you justice.”Tom chuckles a bit as he remembers one pic in particular.”Especially the one where-“ Tuwaine quickly shushes him to save his own skin.Tom slapped a hand over his mouth,but it was too late.You menacingly turned towards you’re old friend.

“You showed Tom Holland an embarrassing picture of me?!”Before Tuwaine could even properly explain himself,Tom was called onto set.He quickly excused himself and told the two of you that he’ll be back in a bit.You watched him exit the trailer,then turned towards Tuwaine once again.He smiled nervously.

“You don’t have to go with him?” You asked,motioning to the door to which Tuwaine explained that he already filmed his scene.He tensed as you moved towards him,not expecting the hug that came after.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed ya ass too much to be mad at you.” You begrudgingly told him.He let out a sigh of relief and hugged you back.

“Oh,thank God.You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

~*~

As the day went on,the three of you actually spent a lot of time together.Even Jake,Zendaya,and Jacob would join you guys once in a while.And let me tell you,your heart was not ready for any of those interactions.You literally almost cried when Zendaya introduced herself to you.During you guys’ down time together,you’d often catch Tom sneaking glances at you.You didn’t want to get your hopes up,so you dismissed it as just him being curious of the person who seemed to mean so much to his dear friend.You really wanted to stay around all of these lovely people, but at around 1:00 in the morning you realized filming wasn’t going to end anytime soon and that you should probably turn in for the night.When you made this decision,it was only you in Tuwaine in the trailer.

“Tutu,I think I’m gonna head to the hotel now.” You announced,using the embarrassing nickname that you first gave him about three months into your friendship.He watched as you started to gather your things.”

Yeah,it is getting pretty late.You want me to come with you?”Tuwaine asked.You looked down with mock shyness and muttered “If you don’t mind.”He rolled his eyes and huffed at your antics.As the two of you made your way out of the trailer,he mentioned that you guys should inform Tom you were leaving.You agreed and the two of you headed towards the set.You made sure they weren’t filming before approaching Tom as he got his suit adjusted by a stylist.He smiled as he caught sight of the two of you,then realized you had you’re stuff in your hands.

“Oh,are you guys leaving?” He asked and pouted at you.His cute frowny face caught you off guard,but luckily Tuwaine answered for the both you.

“Yeah,this one here isn’t really used to being out so late.” He said motioning to you.”Not mention the slight time zone changed has me feeling a little off.” You added.

“Oh,no it’s fine,I totally get it.” Tom said,quick to reassure you that there was no problem.”So uhh,I’ll see you later,man.” He said,dapping Tuwaine off then turning to you with his arms open.”May I?” He asked.You giggled at his politeness and gave him an enthusiastic “Yeah,sure!” The hug was quick,but warm and overall really pleasant.As you were still holding each other,he muttered “It was really nice to meet you.” You smiled grew as you replied “You too,Tom.”

The two of you broke away and you and Tuwaine told him a final bye over your shoulder as you made your way to exit.

~*~

Like the good friend Tuwaine is,he got you safely to your hotel room and made sure you had everything you needed.He planned on staying with you for a bit,then realized that you were quite literally about to pass out.He turned off the lights for you as you plopped yourself down on your bed.Before he could fully close the door behind him.His text tone went off.He unlocked his phone to see that the text was from Tom.

Hey,you still around Y/N?

Tuwaine starred oddly at his phone.

Uh no,she’s passed out on her bed and I’m heading to my room.Why?

Okay,good!I got some questions.

You’re questions can wait,I need a shower.

Tuwaine replied as he set his things down in his own room.

DON’T LEAVE ME!! Tom dramatically texted back.Tuwaine shook his head at the text,threw his phone on the bed,and went to the bathroom to start his shower.

About half an hour later,Tuwaine came out of the shower and picked up his phone again.His attention was brought to a notification of a new text from Tom.

Tom: I hate you 😡

Tuwaine simply rolled his eyes,completely used to his friend’s dramatics. Sure you do.And we were literally in the same place like less than an hour ago,why didn’t you ask your qUeSTIonS then?

Tom: Because she was RIGHT THERE!

EXACTLY SO WHY DIDN’T Tuwaine began to write out,then realized what Tom meant by his text.Oooooh THOSE type of questions.Are they something on the lines of is she single?Maybe even her body count? Tuwaine asked,deciding to tease him.

Tom: SHUT TF UP ITS NOT LIKE THAT

Well maybe the first question...

I truly can’t stand you.

Tuwaine: You want the answer to your question or not?

Tom: 😐

Tuwaine: No she’s not seeing anyone 🙄

Tom: ...Set me up a date with her.

At that moment,Tuwaine really wished Tom was in his room with him just so he could see the look of disbelief on his face. Bruv I know you haven’t been on a date in a while,but that is definitely something you do YOURSELF.

Tom: But she makes me hella nervous!

Tuwaine: When did you start using the word hella?You’ve been spending too much time with Zendaya.

Tom: Can’t really help that when she’s,well,my literal love interest.

Tuwaine: Keep that attitude up and I’ll tell Y/N that you shit yourself in your sleep.

Tom: If you tell her that,you’ll have to say goodbye to my fans for me bc I’d literally throw myself off of the nearest building.

Tuwaine: You do that like every day on set,nothing new really.

Tom: I have to go arsehole.Please just send me her number.

Tuwaine: Sure.Don’t die while doing stunts or whatever.

Tom: Love you too Tuwaine 🥰😘❤️❤️😊

Tuwaine couldn’t help but laugh at the text as he put his phone on his charger and finally climbed into bed to rest.

~*~

Yow woke up at around 8:00am to a text from an unknown number.The text read Hey,it’s Tom!I hope you don’t mind that Tuwaine gave me your number.You smiled at the text and mentally noted to thank Tuwaine later. Oh I don’t mind at all 😊 What’s up Tom?Well I guess filming right?😂 You cringed at your reply but it was too late to delete it.You got a reply in less than a minute.

Tom: lol we actually got a lot done last night so I’m free for the day!

You: Oh cool!You got any plans for your day off?

I was actually hoping I could take you out for lunch? Tom surprised himself at his sudden confidence.He thought he’d end up giving you small hints that he wanted to hang out until eventually you were the one to ask.

You: I’d love to!What time were you thinking?

Tom: Can I pick you up for 12:00?

You: 12:00 would be just fine 😌 See you then!

Tom: See you then!

You were over the fucking moon.Tom Holland,one of your biggest celebrity crushes since CA: Civil War, just asked you out on a date.To say you were freaking out was an understatement.The date was literally four hours away,but you jumped up and started looking for an outfit anyway.Once you finally picked up the perfect outfit,with the limited clothes that you brought for your trip,you threw a hoodie over yourself and headed to the lobby,remembering that you were supposed to me Tuwaine for breakfast.

~*~

“So yeah I got a text that was like “Hey,it’s Tom!” and first my dumbass was like “Who the fuck is Tom?” then I read the rest of the text and I it mentioned you and I was like “Ooooh that Tom!” so then I texted him back and was like-“

“I hate to cut you off,” Tuwaine said,finally deciding to interrupt your rant “But it’s too early in the morning for you to be talking at this speed.”

You knew your friend was mostly just joking,but you sheepishly sunk down in your chair and calmed down a bit anyway. “My bad,I’m just really excited.”

“It’s cool,love.So I’m guessing this lead to him asking you out?”

“Yes!I’m saving my appetite because he’s taking me out for lunch!But that’s enough about my potential love life,how’d you sleep?” You asked and slightly leaned over with genuine anticipation.This brought a smile to Tuwaine’s face.

“Glad to see that you remember you came all this way to see me.” He mockingly told you,but you could tell he was genuinely touched.He went on to tell you that it felt like he was sleeping on a huge slab of stone,but he went to sleep anyway because he was too tired.You two had a long chat and before you knew it,it was time for your date.

(A /N: One thing I’m manifesting for myself starting this December 21st is a better sleep schedule.It’s getting late,but I didn’t want to go back on my word so I just cut it short 😅 Part 2 will be up soon though!)

[words-for-holland]

Quarantine Series: Burnt Out

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Y/N has to work from home during Quarantine, but when she gets extremely busy it’s up to Tom to find a way to help her relax .

A/N: This is my second attempt at this piece. Last time I created this it was super long but it got deleted 😩

Check the Rest: Burnt Out | A New Look | Secret Cuts & Kisses | Breaking Friendships |The Birthday Week | Movie Night | Silence is Golden?|

All Y/N ever wanted was an opportunity to work from home. Then again, who wouldn't want that opportunity? All she could think about was how nice it’d be to work in the comfort of her own home, not have to dress up in business professional clothing, and most importantly be surrounded by the people she cared for the most. But as the saying goes, “Be careful for what you wish for.”

When a global pandemic decided to take over 2020, Y/N certainly got her wish. Her company was forced to work from home until further notice, but what she didn’t expect was the amount of work she would be given. Y/N was pulled from project to project with deadlines thin as paper, and was expected to pick up the extra work of those that were no longer with the company. There was no time to catch a breath, and there certainly was no time to spend with her beloved boyfriend, Tom. This only made Y/N more depressed and made the Holland boys only more concerned.

“Mate, you got to get her to take a break. She’s gonna overdo it.” Harrison commented to his best friend, as they watched Y/N type away like a zombie from the kitchen.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Tom responded with a defeated sigh. “Every time I ask her, she always brushes it off and claims shes fine. Don't get me wrong, Im proud of her and admire her work ethic, but damn its sucking the life out of her.”

Both Harrison and Tom continued to observe Y/N with a cup of tea on hand, wondering how long it would take before she snapped. Tom hated seeing her like this. To him this wasn’t fair. It’s not fair that her 8 hour shift now became a 15 hr shift. Its not fair that she had to work 3 weekends straight, and it certainly wasn’t fair that her company took precious time away to be together. It was hard enough already that he couldn’t spend time with Y/N like a normal boyfriend would because of filming. Now, that he has the opportunity to make up for the lost time, it’s taken away.

“What if you surprised her?” Harrison quipped.

Tom looked up at his best friend with curious eyes. It took a few minutes to sink in, until the brightest idea figuratively smacked him in the face. “Yeah...yeah!” he responded, a smile forming “And I think I know exactly how to do it.”

As Tom was working through the thought process of his brilliant plan, his younger brother entered the kitchen, looking for his usual afternoon snack. “Hey, does anyone know where —. Oh no...” Harry groaned as he looked up at Tom and Harry. “Whatever it is that you two are planning...Leave me out of it.”

“Come on, mate. You dont even know what were planning.” Harrison defended

“Believe me, I know enough and any plan that involves you in it, is likely to fail 99.9% of the time.” Harry opened up his bag of crisps as he continued to list out the other 99 possible reason why they should have left Y/N alone like she wanted. “Cmon guys, you know how she gets. When she doesnt want to be bothered, she doesnt want to be bothered.”

“You’re right Harry, but she’s so stressed, she’s homesick, and one day she’s going to overdo it. Id be a shit boyfriend, if I let it happen.” Tom reasoned. “Look, Im not trying to do anything crazy here. I just want to give her that sense of comfort and see her relax.”

Harry looked at his brother and then at Harrison, both displaying their best puppy dog eyes, in hopes that he’ll join in. “The face doesnt work on me...but I’ll help for Y/N’s sake.”

Meanwhile, Y/N continued her work in the living room, her eyes firmly glued to the computer screen. After being dragged into the kitchen and the Holland plan, Tuwaine slowly made his way to Y/N. “Hey Y/N.” he happily greeted. “I think it’s time for you get some fresh air, don’t you think?”

Y/N looked up, her glasses slightly shifting forward down her nose. “You know theres this thing called being stuck in Quaratine right?” she responded, continuing to code her project.

“I think the real question is do you really want to work here when there’s just nothing but CONSTANT NOISE !” Tuwaine yelled out, hoping the others would catch on.

“What?!” Tom yelled back. It took him some time to realize what Tuwaine meant by his statement. “Oh...Right!” Quickly, Tom grabbed whatever pot or pan he could grab his hands on and dropped them on the counter. Harrison and Harry gave Tom the strangest look. “What? I gave him some noise?”, he shrugged.

“See?” Tuwaine smiled back at Y/N. “You wouldnt want to distract that working brain of yours with all this going on, right?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Tuwaine as she looked at him and the closed off kitchen. Did they think she was born yesterday? Of course she knew they were up to something. None of the boys were subtle enough to keep everything hush hush.

Y/N shook her head and decided to just go with it. The faster she complied, the faster they’d leave her alone, which only meant more time to finish her work. Tuwaine helped carry her laptop, mouse, and charger to the porch as he led her outside. “See, arent you glad your outside, breathing in fresh air with no distractions?”, Tuwaine spoke out.

Y/N took her time to admire the view. “Wow”, she whispered under her breath. Y/N couldnt remember the last time she set foot outdoors. Seeing the sunlight hit the flower beds, the gentle breeze rustle through the grass; it was beautiful. Of course, the moment was short lived with a simple ding, which only multiplied by the second.

Y/N dripped her head back, trying to rub out the frustration from her face. “Yes, well it was fun while it lasted. Duty calls.”

“Im sure they wouldnt mind if you just took five minutes for yourself at least.” Tuwaine commented, feeling bad about the amount of work he saw popping up on your screen.

“Yeah well that’s Corporate for you. Doesnt matter if you’re 500 km away or if a virus is hurting the population. If you’re not working, you’re useless.” Y/N shrugs. It wasn’t like her company was completely evil, this was just how business worked.

“I know Y/N, and we all see that you care deeply about your work but we’re all so worried about you too. We want you to be mentally okay as well. I know Tom is worried about you the most...He misses you, you know.”

Y/N’s heart dropped the second she heard him say it. She knew that all of this was gonna take some time away from Tom, but she hadn’t realized how much he would be missing her, even though they’re living under the same roof. “Yeah I miss him too, more than anyone will know. Believe me.” Y/N pondered for a moment as she stared at the work in front of her. Perhaps five minutes couldn’t hurt. “Maybe I will take that break after all.”

“Really?”, Tuwaine was surprised she had agreed so quickly, and at the same time he panicked. Tom and the others were not ready for Y/N’s surprise yet. “On second thought, Im wrong. You should keep going and try to finish up that project of yours or else you’ll never be done.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked as she tried to close her laptop. “You just spent a whole half hour trying to convince me to stop working, and now you want me to go back and work?”

“Yeah..I mean what do I know, right?” He laughed nervously. Tuwaine looked back at the door, for some sort of signal. Come on man it’s not like your preparing a break for the Queen of England.

“Listen Tuwaine, if I go back there and you boys break anything in that house...I swear— I’ll”

“Y/N!” Tom interjected as he stepped out to the porch. He wrapped his arms behind her waist, giving her a gently kiss on the top of her head. “How’s work, my pretty girl?” He looked back at Tuwaine and mouthed a thank you to him as he left the love birds alone.

Y/N turned around to face Tom, taking in his features and running her hands at the nape of his neck. “Busy, but what else is new? I’ve been missing you a whole lot”

“Me too, darling. Anyway, Im really hoping you can take a break from all this because I’ve got something special for you.”

“Oh no, babe. You know you didnt have to anything for me. Really Im fine..I-“

“I wanted to. In fact the boys wanted in on it too. So this is really from all of us, if you think about it.” Tom grabbed Y/N’s hand as he led her back in to house. “Come.”

As they both enetered the house hand in hand, Tom led Y/N into the kitchen, where the rest of the boys waited with diner burgers in hand and warm homemade chocolate chip cookies on the side of table. What seemed like a simple meal was a cure for any bad day..at least for Y/N it was. It represented a sense of home for her, while being far from Jersey. Even though she hadnt realized it, Tom and the boys knew she needed it. “Wow” Y/N breathed “I...I dont know what to say.”

“Dont say, just eat” Harrison laughed. “In all honesty this was Tom’s idea. We just wanted to make sure you had the support you need.”

“Yeah you deserve this, so please enjoy it.” Harry added. With that, everyone dug in and bonded over a family dinner, sharing laughs and stories. Tom leaned toward Y/N whispering in her ear, “I have a few more surprises after this.”

The next few surprises did not disappointment. He set up a nice warm bath for the two of them to relax and enjoy each others compny. A few subtle kisses, laughter, and silence was shared between the two. Y/N leaned back into Tom’s chest, feeling the water gently flow back and forth. Breathing in and out, she had forgotten how good this felt. Being close to Tom, was a different experience, one that no one could ever do justice. This was what she really needed.

After the bath, Tom led her into their shared bedroom. For a moment, Y/N stopped him as she pulled his head down to hers, giving him the kiss he rightfully deserved. Her lips crashed with his, his hands gently holding the sides of her tiny face. He picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist and situated themselves on the bed. Reluctantly, they both pulled away, catching their breath. Their foreheads touching and noses gently rubbing the others. “I love you. I love you more than you could possibly know.” Y/N whispered to him

“And I love you. I just want to give you the world because you deserve it all. My hardworking pretty girl.” Of course all good things must come to an end.

After a great well spent break was shared between Y/N and Tom, she was back on the work grind. Only this time she was working in their room as Tom was reading a script for his next upcoming project. The more Y/N coded, the sleepier she was getting. It onyl took a few minutes before she started leaning into Tom and her eyes started to flutter. Her breaths became slower and she was out like a light.

Tom turned to look at Y/N, smiling to see the sight of her finally at peace. He removed her glasses and set them by her table side. Tom made sure to clock her out of work abd checked to see if her work was saved. Just as he was about to turn off her laptop, another message popped up. “Great”, he muttered, rolling his eyes at the fact her team is still working at this hour. He couldnt help but read it though. Just how badly did they need her anyway?

We all know how hard you’re working and going above and beyond to get these projects out the door. For that, we thank you! On behalf of the company we’d like you all to take a day off on us!

Tom smiled, relieved that shell finally get some time for herself. Feeling triumphant, he shut off her laptop and set it aside. Crawling back into the bed and covering themselves under the blanket. His arms wrapped her waist once again. “Goodnight, my love. Im so proud of you.” he whispered.

[realcube]

the heart || kei tsukishima x reader

 summary: modern au! you and tsukishima are supposed to dissect a lamb heart in biology but it doesn’t go to plan

tw// cussing, the dissection of a lamb heart, blood, biology 🤢

my excuse: this is based on a true story and i wrote it at like 3am - read at your own expense. this is probably the worst piece i’ve every written.

“Geez, why are you complaining? You literally just play Cool Maths Games during every period of Biology and now that we actually have to do something you become a whiny bitch.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue, slipping his phone back into his pocket while adjusting his headphones so they hung around his neck, rather than having to take them off because they were apart of his look at this point.

You tossed your head back upon hearing the news that you’d actually have to do something in class for a change, “Exactly! Biology is supposed to be the one class where I am not bombarded with work. Just last period, I drew at least fifty stupid fucking graphs! For what? To find x? To hell with your x !” You cried, running a hand through your hair to make sure you didn’t mess it up because you spent way too long straightening it this morning for a swift movement of your neck to mess it all up. 

Tsukishima sighed, hesitantly rubbing your back as you genuinely seemed quite stressed, “It’ll be fine, and it’s not like we’re learning anything new. We have already studied the heart, I think it was last year; we’re only doing the experiment now because we couldn’t to do it last year for some reason.” Tsukishima mumbled, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed that he was doing a decent job of reassuring you as your hair was no long standing on its ends. 

“Plus,” He said, flicking his pencil with his fingers, “This’ll be cool! The heart is quite an interesting organ, it’ll be fun to actually get hands-on and see the chambers and valves up close, don’t you think?” He added, seeming a bit too enthusiastic about dissecting a lamb heart - it was kinda creepy.

After you finished loudly judging him, you pulled out your phone from your pocket and absently went to snapchat, to send your streaks. “Yeah, whatever. Get in ‘ere with me Tsukishima, will you?” It was hardly a request as before he even had time to process what you had just asked him, you had taken a selfie of you and him with the indie filter, wrote ‘streaks’ on it and sent it to your whole best friend’s list. 

It took him a moment to react to what you just did but when he noticed you typing away to your friend, he let out a breathy sigh. Usually, he’d be fuming by your action but he had to admit, he looked pretty good in that picture - especially because he barely had any nice candid photos of himself. “Send that to me - but without the stupid caption.” Was all he could be bothered to utter.

You hummed in agreement, “Will do.” You replied, immediately finding the photo in your saved pictures and scrolling down your friends list until you found Tsukishima; he wasn’t too low down since you recently asked him for the answers to the Maths homework - he said no, of course, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m feeling kinda bummed so y’know what I am gonna do?” You spoke and without giving Tsukishima a moment to respond, you answered your own question. “Check your Snapchat username, it always makes him laugh.”

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold and his eyes widened at the mention of his username on Snapchat, “(Y/N). Do not--”

“Dinoguykei!” You exclaimed rather loudly, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes as you cackled upon repeating his username to yourself - absolute gold.

“I was, like, 11 when I made it! Give me a break.” He spat, sticking out his bottom lip momentarily before pulling his headphones back over his head to clasp his ears so he no longer had to listen to your ‘annoying-ass laugh’, as he called it. There was clearly no music playing from his headphones and he acted as if he couldn’t hear you when he had them on despite the fact that they were clearly not noise-cancelling - this was a move he pulled often which you liked to call ‘blocking out the a haters’ as he would do that exact thing whenever you said something to displease him..

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, flicking his fake-ass SOMY headphones but since they were made of wurtzite boron nitride or something like that, they hit you right back, resulting in your hissing and quickly pulling your hand away. “Do you think that your crusty, dollar store headphones can prevent my noise from reaching your ears? I think the fuck not.” 

“I-”

“If you want me to buy you new ones, just ask. How much were they? Or are they hend-me-downs?” You inquired without missing a beat, it wasn’t often that you managed to tease Tsukishima which such flow consecutively so you were obviously going to make to most of this opportunity while you had it.

“They are from the dollar store but I didn’t buy them.” Tsukishima mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, he lowered his head and desperately tried to resist the sly grin which tugged at the corners of his lips as all the memories came flooding back to him. “You were there, weren’t you?” 

“No.” You replied simply but immediately realising what Tsukishima was talking about and leaning in closer to him, “Is Tsukki a criminal?” You sung while wiggling your eyebrow playfully at him. 

Tsukishima scoffed, once again lowering his headphones from his ears back down to his neck. “As if you aren’t, with all the stuff you stole from the supermarket.” He hissed while trying not to laugh as he recalled the time you tried to sneak out passed security by shoving food under your shirt so you looked pregnant - and they fucking fell for it! Or  maybe they were just too lazy to bother calling you out, either way you got away with it though. “And this is what you said before bolting out of Forever21 with sunglasses in your bra - verbatim: ‘If it is a chain, it’s free rein.’.” 

You wiped an imaginary tear from your eye as you heard those words leave Tsukishima’s mouth, “Beautiful-” You mused, about to go on to tell him about the other economic benefits of stealing from large corporations until he cut you off to correct you as always.

“So, you were wrong. These headphones were not a dollar, they were free.” 

Of course, Tsukishima never talks to you without the intend of either insulting you or proving your wrong in some way/argue with you. So why would this be any exception?

“Anyway,” Tsukishima began, his gaze shifting around the room rapidly in search of the biology teacher, “Where is that bitch? I’m ready to dissect the fuck out of that lamb heart if he just gets his ass over here immediately. He always does this.” Tsukishima huffed as this was far from the first time he had been let down by the biology teacher, as well as all of his classmates.

In fact, the whole class had basically mutually agreed that the biology teacher was shit as almost everyone in the class was failing due to his horrible teaching - or lack there of. Tsukishima was the only one passing because he had a tutor but he was still averaging 60% - a C - which was way too low for his liking. 

Also, the biology teacher had a habit of making false promises - for instance, there was that one time he said the class could use whiteboards to create model cells so he rushed out the room to ‘go get the whiteboards’ and didn’t come back. Instead of getting the whiteboards, there was a rumour going around the school that - with the assistance a foreign language teacher - he conducted a different kind of biological experiment in the janitor’s cupboard. 

Be that as it may, all my homies hated the biology teacher..until today, when he actually pulled through with the goods.

He came marching into the class holding a pale bag filled with a dark, red substance and quickly placed it on his desk. “Right, troops. Get yourself a partner, come ‘ere and grab a lamb heart then remove the tricuspid valve for me, will ya?” He panted, rubbing his forehead and bringing attention to his bright red face. He was seemingly out of breath yet nobody has ever seen him run before; was he that tired from walking to the storage cupboard and back?

“Sir, do we dissect it with out hands or?”

The teacher shrugged, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder before rushing out of the room. “I don’t know, sure? Or maybe use a spatula or something. Right, BRB, guys.” Just like that, he was gone. Probably to go rail Tsukishima’ foreign language teacher in the privacy of his own home or something. ‘Ew.’ Tsukki shuddered at the thought. 

“I’ll go get us a heart.” He said, getting up from his chair and about to make his way over to the teacher’s desk until you giggled, asking, “Who said I wanted to partner up with you?” 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, checking the time on his phone and spoke without averting his gaze from the path in front of him, “You’ve not got much of a choice.” With that, he slinked off to the front of the class to grab a heart and hopefully a spatula too. 

Your mouth was left agape at his comment, mostly because you were unable to decipher what he meant by that; curse his naturally sarcastic-sounding tone! Perhaps that was his way of trying to hit on you by saying he wouldn’t allow you to partner up with anybody else - or it could be a jab at the fact everyone in this class hates you for one reason or another.

“Some knob took the last spatula so I guess you’re using your hands.” He grumbled, dumping the heart which was packed in a thin, clear plastic bag onto your desk. Crossing his arms over his chest before sitting back down at his own table, pulling out his phone and about to start playing some music until you realised what he was trying to do and instinctively flicked his arm.

“What?” He hissed, jerking his head around to shoot you a deadly glare. You stuck your bottom lip out to form a pout but then you remembered that he finds your pouty face funny and right now you were trying to be intimidating so you quickly switched to a scowl. “You’re the one who wanted to dissect the stupid thing, you do it!” You roared, slamming the lamb heart onto his desk then leaned back in your chair, folding you arms over your chest in a bad-tempered manor.

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly as he looked over, doing his best to stifle a chuckle at how silly you looked with a scowl on your face - like grumpy cat, in a way. “Why are you so mad?” He asked monotonously, shifting his gaze onto the heart on his desk, hesitantly reaching out to unzip the plastic bag which it was packed inside. 

You shrugged your shoulders, biting your lip as you looked down at your hands, shocked at how white your knuckles had become from holding a fist for so long. “My bad, Tsukki.” You said in a low voice, embarrassed at how his simple actions had pissed you off so much. “I guess I am just kinda frustrated with this whole class - mostly the teacher. I mean, we’re literally all doing horribly and instead of helping he just gives us a fucking lamb heart to dissect like what good does that--”

Suddenly, you felt something cold and slimy splat against your elbow, leading to a small gasp escaping your mouth as you instinctively whipped your head over to see what it was - however, as soon as you laid your eyes on it, you wished that you hadn’t. 

A high-pitched shriek left your mouth, immediately gaining the attention of almost the whole class but once the turned heads realised how uneventful the situation actually was, they went back to what they were doing prior to your scream. 

Tsukishima winced slightly in reaction to the shrill sound that left your mouth - “Oh, shut up.” He snapped, rolling his eyes at your - in his opinion - melodramatic reaction. “It’s just a bit of lamb heart; here, I’ll get it off for you.”

As soon as you realised what you had just done and the reaction it had evoked, you slapped your spare hand over your mouth but without averting your gaze from the god-forsaken piece of meat which clung committedly to your forearm. “Tsukki.” You tried to sound angry but the fear was still clear in your voice, “Why would you do that?” Although you hadn’t seen him do the deed, you were almost 100% this was the work of him flicking the wretched lamb muscle onto your arm - this theory was reinforced by the fact the plastic bag was lying wide open on his desk.

Tsukishima laughed, leaning over to pick the bit of heart off of your arm then proceeded to flick it away to some other poor soul’s desk. “There we go. Happy now?” 

You growled - something your friend had taught you to do whenever you were mad - shooting daggers at the lanky megane sitting in front of you while he wore a sly grin which just made you want to punch him right on the nose. “What the fuck was that for?” You snarled, “You know how much I hate blood.”

Tsukishima wheezed, he genuinely couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not, “Then what are you doing in a biology class?” His question was barely audible through his gasps for as well as the sound of him slapping him knee.

You clicked your tongue, wiping the excess lamb juice off of your arm, “Joking.” You droned, turning to eye the heart on his desk. “Go on, dissect the thing.”

[eerythingisshaka]

Wish Granted Pt. 2

[Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black OC]

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N:  I decided to make this a series and instead of reader, it is an original character. Strap in!

( Read Part 1 here)

That morning, Yahya and Corrine bask in the glow of the new morning sun, sharing a table by the front window enjoying eggs benedict, toast, with a stack of pancakes to share.  Corrine dipped some of her bacon into the leftover egg and sauce along her plate, chasing it with the remaining orange juice in her glass.  She goes to grab for more from the pitcher when Yahya’s hand surrounds hers.

“I have a flight tonight at 6,”  he says.

Corrine nods slowly.  “Ok.”

He looks sorry as he continues, “It got changed last minute.”

“Sure...can I ...pour my juice now?” Corrine asks, making Yahya awkwardly rest his hands on the table to allow you access to the pitcher.

“And with traffic, I should probably start getting ready to go now.”

Corrine sips her drink, wiping her mouth gingerly with the cloth napkin and sets it down.  “I gave you back that ring, right?”

Yahya nods.  “And your scarf is in your room at the hotel.”

“It’s not mine but...thanks.”  Corrine says quietly.  She pushes her fork around in the remnants of her plate, squeaking every so often against the porcelain.

Yahya leans forward.  “I still want to stay in contact.  Just because I live out of town doesn’t mean we can’t not see each other, you know?”

Corrine smiles with wide eyes like he just said something offensive.  “If that’s what you think, that is fine.  But honestly how would that work?  I couldn’t keep a guy to get a proposal and I spent at least half of my 20s hanging with him.  Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

Yahya sits back, looking out the window for distraction.

“I mean I am fine with a one night stand.  Thank you for being what I needed at the time, it was definitely a night I will never forget but let’s not make this weird.”

Yahya sighs, looking around for presumably the waitress and pulls out his wallet.  “I can’t believe you’re flipping like this.”

“It’s not a flip, just...this happens.  Like, come on Yahya, we don’t know each other.  Can you seriously say you want to try and make this a long term thing base don our track records?”

Yahya puts some bills on the table.  “I thought you hadn’t done this before?”

Corrine shrugs.  “Ok, truthfully, not since college had I done this before.  Before...him,” she says with a cringe.

Yahya folds his arms across his chest looking at her with amazement.  “So you really used me?  I am your rebound and now you’re backing out?  Or is it because I am not conveniently at your beck and call now that you’re scared to try something new?”

Corrine scoffs.  “I don’t need to explain it, I made it clear.  Long distance will not work.  That’s it!”

“I disagree.  And I want you to see that I am right and you’re wrong.”

“Yahya…”

“Corrine….”  Yahya says, biting his lip playfully.

Corrine rolls her eyes, pulling out her purse to rifle through it.  Not able to find a piece of paper, she takes an unused napkin and scribbles on the front with her dying pen.

“Look, I will give you my number.  Do with it what you want, I’m not holding you to it though,”

She hands it to a confused look Yahya.  “I could just give you my phone to put it in?”

“I’m old school.  Plus, watch you accidentally use it and mess up the ink or ball it up thinking it’s trash.  I wanna know you can be responsible with an important document such as that napkin with my number on it.”

Yahya looks at it, puts it down and grabs a five off of the stack of bills he had set on the table.

“Let me borrow that pen,”  he asks, scribbling his number across the front of Lincoln’s face.

“Whoa!  What are you doing?”  Corrine asks, leaning to get a glimpse for herself before Yahya gives her the defaced bill.

“And here is my number.  If your theory checks out, it shouldn’t be hard to keep up with or lose, unless you accidentally spend it on some shoes or a new purse, right?”

Corrine glares at him.  “Ha Ha.  Here, let me at least put some money back on this since you probably just took the girl’s tip money for this.”

Yahya waves her off.  “Please, it’s still 20% without it, we good.”

Corrine folds the five up in a side pocket in her bag.  “Then that’s it right?”

Yahya stares through the table, nodding blankly.  When he looks at Corrine he fights a smirk.

“I really had a good time.”

“I did too.”

Yahya and Corrine step out of the restaurant, parting with one last hug as his car arrives to pick him.  Corrine holds him close, smelling the fresh soap from the morning shower he took just a couple hours ago.  His shoulders and back solid under her hands, she imagines if she lifts her feet, he wouldn’t bend or fold even slightly.

His hands spread along her back before sliding slowly around her waist, kissing a spot behind her ear that makes her curl back and chuckle.

“I’ll call you,”  Yahya says inches from Corrine’s face as she nods.  “You gonna call me?”

“When you call me, I will,”  she says, putting her hand to the side of his face, trying to memorize every feature and feeling it gave her.  One last kiss would make her fly in the cab with him, so she backs off, waving goodbye.

A month goes by and Corrine has finally packed up all of James’s things in two boxes.  She sits on the couch staring at them sat next to her front door.  His life with her fit in just two boxes?  They weren’t officially living together yet but he spent so much time with her that it seemed like there would be more things.  Most of it is laundry that needs washing and DVDs he brought over because he refused to buy them on digital again.

Corrine scrolls through her phone absentmindedly as she waits.  A message pops up that makes her jump out of the blue.

Hey, how’s your morning beautiful?

It’s fine for now.  Still waiting on him.

Don’t let him bother you.  Just tell him to the left and leave!

Of course girl.  Why mess with a beyonce blueprint?

Works every time!  Also, don’t forget to meet us for our lunch date after.

Sounds good.

Corrine gets up to check out of her patio door and sees his car park outside.  James strolls across the grass, which instinctively makes her cringe.  She always told him to watch doing that so he doesn’t end up walking in dog shit.  

She waits for his knock patiently, not wanting him to know she saw him already.  Her phone chimes again.

Outside, it reads.

Corrine groans at the rude tone of his one word text.  As she opens the door he’s leaning on the frame in a way that reminds you of one of Danny Zuko’s boys from Grease.  Leather jacket on even though it's 85 degrees out, distressed blue jeans that fit snug around his lean legs with some schmegular all white Adidas.  

“I already packed your stuff,”  she says, walking backwards to point to the left as practiced.  James takes one step in with his hands in his pockets and looks to his right at the boxes.

“I could’ve done that,”  he says in a bored tone, looking back at her as if she is visiting him without notice,

“I asked you every week for the past month to come get it.  You think I’m going to wait for you to poke around here and find every little thing of yours on your own?  I don’t think so.”

His fingers find their way around a curl of hair in his high top fade.  “What’s all this energy about though?  I thought we could be cool about it?”

“Why would I be cool about anything with you  after you left me by myself in the city when we were supposed to be celebrating your promotion, right?  But you recall what happened instead?  After 5 and a half years together?”

“I wanted to talk to you in person-”

“You hadn’t done that either for a month, have you?”

James’ jaw flies open.  “Because the only thing you got to say is about picking up my stuff!  You never asked to talk and you didn’t answer my calls!”

“I shouldn’t have to ask to talk!  I’m not the one that said I can’t do this no more!”

“Are you sure Corrine?  Cuz you never acted interested in shit with what I got to do.  You don’t listen to nothing I got to say.”

Corrine scoffs loudly as James kneels to look through the boxes. 

“I never helped YOU?  I got you into a respectable corporate job that paid BILLS for the first time in you life when your cooking career wasn’t pulling weight like you hoped it would!  Now you can earn some capital so you can open your business steadily and not fall flat on your ass!  I gave you so much more mercy than you ever did for me!”

James sucks his teeth and comes to a standing, towering over Corrine.  “I stood by you while you worked to do this lawyer shit you got goin on.  Long nights studying in the living room, out to the library, hell week after hell week to pass your bar.  I barely got a kiss from you at your celebration party.  You always doin the most!”

Corrine grips her temples, completely taken back.  “I can’t believe you’re saying my ambition is a reason to leave me.  I can’t succeed while you’re down and out or you feel less of a man?  Is that it?”

James picks up his boxes in both arms.  “Shut up.”  He walks out the door heading for the steps.

“No, now I got it!  You want me to just stay quiet and patient while you figure things out but I couldn’t carry our relationship for you!  I needed your support too, whether I am studying for hours on end or you’re taking a month long business trip, only to come back unemployed!”

James was out the door about halfway down when he looks back at her.

“You think I wouldn’t know?  I got you that gig, how would I not check into it?  They said you never showed up.  Why?”

James looked off, sighing deeply like a load was taken off even though he was carrying two very heavy boxes.

“You had to get away for a month?  What were you doing for that long that you didn’t tell me?”

James continued to not look at Corrine.  His mind battling with what to say and what not to say was killing her as she looked for him to speak. 

“I won’t take you back James, I just want a good excuse so I can hate you less.  I thought you were going to marry me when you booked that room for us at that fancy spot.  But you broke my heart so bad.”

James continued to walk down the steps without a word.  Corrine watched him pack his car and turn on the engine to peel out.  

--

“Girl, and that’s what he did?”  Simone exclaimed over her half eaten salad.  Her pressed hair pulled back in a bun already gave her a naturally alert look, but Corrine’s turmoil made it that much more apparent.

Corrine pushed around a meatball in her spaghetti.  “That is all he did.  I have no closure to it.”

Bria pats you back gingerly.  “You’ll be fine and he’ll be fine.  It’s just because the break up is still fresh that y’all couldn’t come to an understanding.”

Corrine sits back and shrugs.  “Maybe?  But that’s a big ass lie he dropped on me.  He was gone for a month.  He could have a whole family in another state for all I know.”

Simone points at Corrine, big brown eyes bucking.  “That’s why I told you he look like Cousin Skeeter if he were a real man.  He is just as goofy too.  Nobody should leave for a MONTH without saying anything.”

Bria nods, adjusting her tortoise shell frames.  “He is not worth a thought but you take all the time you need to get past it.  Just move on.  You gave him chance after chance up until the last moment.  It’s time you got to breathe on your own.”

“And speaking of,”  Simone lowers her voice.  “You hear from our hotel daddy yet?”

“Oh God, don’t bring that up now,”  Corrine whines.

“Simone!”  Bria hisses.  “She hasn’t heard from him yet, and honestly by now, there would be some explaining to do instead of dating.”

Corrine lays her head on the table.  “Why is life so hard?  I can’t have a good time with nobody!”

Simone and Bria offer pats as her tears are absorbed by the tablecloth.

“Hey, you know what?  You do still have his number…”

“Simone, no.  I can’t.”

“But!  Instead of cutesy whats up and stuff, you can tell him off maybe?  Give him the lashing every wrong you’ve received deserves.  It might not be constructive but a quick shot of feel good sounds pretty good, right?”

Corrine sits up, dabbing her eyes and feeling the avalanche of snot coming to her nose.  Her cries put all ugly cries to shame.

“I just...it was...he said...he’d call!”  Corrine squeaks out between sobs.

One month turned into two, and so on until Corrine forgot about that night at the hotel.  Busying herself with work was the best thing she could do in order to keep herself feeling good from day to day.  That and happy hours with her girls who vigorously scoped men out for her as her wingwomen.  

Sometimes when she is turning in for the evening, she picks up the base of her little desk mirror to find the $5 bill under it that Yahya scrawled his number on.  The more she looked at it, she wasn’t sure if it ended in a four or a nine, so it’s probably best she kept from calling in order to not look foolish on someone’s phone.

James and her never got back with each other either.  But Corrine is more ok with that.  She figures whatever skeletons he has are bigger than she can manage and she deserves a break.  But Yahya seemed so good and promising, she couldn’t believe she got bamboozled that hard.  He could’ve left that morning, allowing her to sleep away the future but he gave her hope instead and that got snatched away.

So Corrine filled her days digging into practicing law and running errands and not much in between.  But she was ok.  Without the extra baggage of men in her life she felt as if she might’ve unlocked a new level in life.

---

“As you all know, the construction on the new building is being negotiated with several architects in order to get a broad scope of what design would fit the future of our practice the best for years to come.  Let me remind you all that if it weren’t for your dedication to your work around here that we would not be one of the most sought after and winningest law office in the state.”

Applause fills the conference room for Hogel of Garrett, Hogel & Truman as Corrine takes notes on the meetings main points.  Most of the meetings are supplied with a bullet list of the main topics, but she does not enjoy just sitting and staring or she is liable to daydream.

When the meeting comes to a close, it is close enough to the evening and the weekend that she hopes will allow her to get off early and head straight for bed.  Her feet kill her in the stiff three inch pumps she wears for ten hours straight, and her local Chinese spot was calling her name for some springfield chicken.

When she makes it back to her desk, her heart flips with joy as she sees no new files to review and archive, and since she got ahead of her projects for the week, it seems the weekend has finally begun.

She kicks off her heels to slide into her worn in athletic shoes, feeling her feet melt into the dips that the insole has created to mold to her feet.  Her heart beats in the bottoms of her foot from being released from their patent leather binding which is both uncomfortable and satisfying.  But even if they were chopped off at the shin, these feet would lead her to her car and get her to her home paradise.  

Corrine walks down the hall to the elevators, hearing noises from people as she gets close.  She feels a little anxious, preferring an empty elevator at her departure time but is willing to deal so that the exit is quicker.

As the group of voices rounds a corner leading away from her, she sees a man standing head above the whites that surround him.  A navy blue suit fitting tailored to wide set shoulder funneling down to a slim but sturdy waist, made her knees buckle a moment, causing her to slow her pace forward.  He walks away, laughing one of those polite laughs one gives to company they want to impress.  He hits the elevator button, listening to one of the partners speak until his gaze travels over them and spots her.

She feels her brain black out and her heart fall out of her ass and flight took over in her fight or flight response.  

“Corinne!”  he calls after her, but she pays him no attention rounding the corner.  Stairs would have to work, no matter how much her feet her from the day, anything would do over having to see him make up whatever excuse he had to not call her.  And what the hell is he doing at her job?  Is he a lawyer?  Is he looking for counsel?  What if he is a fraud that manipulates women and sues them for some old timey bullshit laws like alienation of affection.

She thanked God that coincidence didn’t find him in the parking garage as Corrine finally made it home but settled on some leftovers she had in the fridge instead of her beloved Chinese food.  At this point she still hadn’t calmed down from earlier.  What if he is at the Chinese place?  Where the hell does he live anyway?  To be in the same area as her work, he couldn’t be far.  She couldn’t remember where he said he was from, if they even covered that much information but she was not going to entertain his presence, he is a ghost to her.  

In her bedroom she takes the five and slips it in her purse to make sure she spends the bill, like it's the reason he is back.  She will have to treat him like a ghost.  He won’t know she ever waited for him or thought about him after that night. 

[lovelyirony]

Stars with thorbruce

Bruce remembers his mother’s hand smoothing over his curls, telling him stories of how the constellations came to be. He remembers hearing soft words of using the Big Dipper for milk and cookies. He smiles as he remembers asking his mother who lived among the stars. 

They were beautiful, surely someone had to live there. 

His mother smiled. 

“You will find it out, my smart boy. None of us know yet, although some of us have a feeling that we’re not alone in this galaxy.” 

Bruce would look out his window every night and ask the stars who among them lived in what world. He asked how their world was. 

Thor knew others lived other places. His mother read Loki and he stories of other people, how they lived. 

His father said how Asgard ruled it all with a golden-hued hand. 

He asks of Terran people, Midgardians. 

“You don’t need to concern yourself with them,” Odin says. “Now go and train. A weak king serves no purpose on a strong throne.” 

- 

Bruce does not smile when he realizes that there are others out there, not when he’s been dragged in as a monster to help fight other monsters. Accepted, just this once. 

He looks up at beings who look like stars for one brief second. And then they descend with a roar, and he knows. 

He turns, letting Hulk take the lead. 

His mother knew they were not alone. 

But she could not have known this was the result.  

- 

Thor is…different. He returns from taking his brother back to…Asgard? And he is quiet. 

Bruce just quietly moves around him to get his tea or food. 

“Dr. Banner?” Thor asks, his voice impossibly soft. It does not fit a man who is as large and imposing as he is. “Can you…what can you tell me about Earth?” 

“It sucks,” Bruce answers automatically. 

Thor blinks. 

Bruce does not want to explain why earth sucks. So he takes his naan and goes back to his room. 

- 

The god cannot leave well enough alone. He is knocking on Bruce’s door at eight o’clock in the morning. 

Bruce answers in an old t-shirt that’s seen better days, old pants, and bags under his eyes. 

“Why does earth suck so much?” 

Bruce sighs. 

“Go to the kitchen. I’ll explain there.” 

Bruce goes into a long-winded tangent about how much human invented concepts suck and how policy makes everything slow and he can’t even fly in a plane because he’s deemed a flight risk and people keep trying to kill him and the unending guilt over his own mistakes will be his demise. 

“Do you guys have therapy on earth?” Thor asks. 

Bruce laughs. 

“Yeah, we do. I need to find a new therapist soonish. Just hard with my…issue. Earth doesn’t suck. It’s cool.” 

“Show me?” 

“Uh…yes?” Bruce asks, blinking. “What do you want to see?” 

“What’s your favorite thing about earth?” 

Bruce has to think. 

“Come with me tonight. On the roof.” 

- 

The stars are never as bright as they were in Ohio, which is about the only good thing Bruce can say about Ohio. It’s the only good thing anyone could say, really. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes, never go there,” Bruce says. “Ever.” 

“…noted. Not even for one of your natural…reserve park things?” 

“Nope. Not even for those. You’re gonna get murdered there.” 

“I’m a god, Bruce.” 

“Ohio people only believe in one god, and that god is less jacked than you.” 

They laugh together. 

Bruce tells him all about his mother’s stories of the stars, what he learned from others. 

“Do you want to hear our stories?” Thor asks softly. 

They make a habit of going on the roof once a week, weather permitting. If it does not permit, they sit in the sunroom and have coffee, chatting that way. 

Bruce learns that Thor was alive when Nikola Tesla was, but never went to earth. 

“I was in training to become king, and Odin didn’t really want me venturing out too far,” Thor says. “But I heard that earth had some catching up to do. You definitely have us beat with food though. Damn.” 

They stare over at the stars. 

Bruce struggles to ignore his red cheeks or the fact that Tony keeps calling him “lover boy.” 

“Nope. I’m not that.” 

“Sure you aren’t, the rest of us spend time gazing into Thor’s eyes,” Tony says, batting his eyelashes. “Just ask him out already.” 

“Get therapy,” Bruce shoots back. 

“Are we talking about how we all need collective help?” Natasha asks. “I thought that was what Steve’s meeting was about tonight.” 

“Shit, I’m not going to that then,” Clint says. “Do you think he’ll buy it if I tell him that my dog has a son?” 

“I don’t buy anything, I grew up in the Great Depression,” Steve responds, coming down the stairs. “Also Clint, you have a dog? Since when?” 

“Since never,” Clint responds back. “I don’t have a dog.” 

“Good, Tony said no dogs.” 

“For Steve,” Tony mumbles. “But we’‘re missing the obvious part of this discussion, which is Bruce’s love-life.” 

“I don’t have one of those in stock.” 

“Check in the back,” Tony snarks. 

Bruce rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t have a love-life guys,” Bruce says. “The only thing I love is dismantling huge corporations that are evading ecological law.” 

“And also hanging out a ton with Thor,” Natasha responds. “Wait, are you–” 

“If we have to talk about emotions then I demand we discuss Natasha’s thirsty tweet about Sharon.” 

“My cousin, Romanoff?!” Tony yells. 

Bruce takes this time to escape down to his lab, where Natasha is not allowed in. 

“I cannot say with full certainty that she will not break in,” Jarvis answers. “But I will try my best, Dr. Banner. Hell hath no woman like a woman.” 

“You’re just as bad as Tony with phrases,” Bruce says. “But thanks.” 

Thor is down there. 

“Why is Natasha locked out of the lab?” 

“She told me that she preferred wine from California, she was obviously banned,” Bruce says quickly. 

“I thought last week’s argument was you and her against Clint,” Thor says. “And I think you won? Clint thought his expired Kool-Aid was wine. That was a very sad night.” 

Bruce freezes. 

“Ha. Yeah. That was right. She’s still banned.” 

“What was the debate upstairs about? I heard snippets about it. Tony said something about checking in the back? Is he mad about the fruit again? He can’t expect to buy strawberries and them to still be there.” 

Bruce laughs. 

“Nah, Steve’s having a group talk about therapy options for us. I think Tony’s gonna try and con his way out of it by pushing Bucky in front of him. It won’t work.” 

- 

As it turns out, Natasha has swift revenge. 

She can’t break into the lab. 

But she can make sure the two of them can’t break out. 

“Until you confess the door is gonna be closed,” Natasha says over the intercom. 

“Confess what?” Thor asks, looking nervous. 

“Oh…you know. Stuff. Now you have to by six, otherwise Steve will break you out and then you have to say it as a duo. Do you want to tell all of us or just the two of you…alone?” Nat asks. 

“Fuck you,” Bruce says, flipping off the sensor. 

- 

Thor’s nervous. He…this is new. He hasn’t liked someone is what is probably about two thousand years. 

Bruce is…he’s different. 

He likes the small things and rants about how stupid the smallest things are (like his least favorite spoon) and also looks phenomenal when the sun is shining and he’s laughing about a new story and…

Thor wants a forever. He’s known forever. 

But he hasn’t known forever with Bruce. 

And now they’re locked in his lab. 

Bruce bangs his head against the table. 

“Think Steve will break us out?” 

Thor is about to answer when the intercom comes to life again. 

“No, he won’t be,” Tony says. “I’ve managed to convince him to share his PowerPoint on what kind of fork he wants to reorder for the kitchen. He got passionate about what design he wants on the handle.” 

There’s a muffled yell that sounds suspiciously like “no curvature on the handle!” and then silence. 

“God,” Bruce mutters. 

They sit in silence for a moment. Thor’s not exactly sure what to say. It’s not like they make Hallmark cards for “you’re the first person I’ve loved in about two millennia and I want you to be mine until the earth implodes.” 

Similarly they don’t make a Hallmark card for “I thought I was incapable of love but now I’ve fallen in love with you and you’re a god and I’m a near-indestructible chaos-bringer.” 

It’s a work in progress for the card-making interns, honestly. 

“What did Nat mean by talking to me?” Thor asks. “I know this is probably gonna be awkward. Wouldn’t be locked into a lab if it wasn’t.” 

If Bruce had had maybe ten minutes to himself, he would’ve come up with a good lie. One that he could say without shifting eyes or a stuttering mouth. But he can’t. Lying takes time. 

“So I’m pretty sure I like you. As in want to take you out on a date like you. And I didn’t tell you because you’re a god.” 

Thor blinks. 

“Bruce no offense but you calling me a god and also seeing me at my lowest in salmon board shorts? Hilarious.” 

Bruce gives him a face. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“And I was going to say that I like you, but you are a brilliant scientist who changed your world through discovery, not by force,” Thor responds. “You love helping others and you also turn into a giant green guy who likes food trucks and hates not smashing things.” 

Bruce blinks. 

“Did we–?” 

“Yeah, we did. I also think this means we have an excuse to miss both Steve’s presentation on fork styles as well as his call for therapy, which in reality was only for Clint.” 

The lab doors open. Bruce automatically flips Natasha off, but is met with Natasha flipping him off. 

“Tony wants to talk to me about my ‘intentions’ with his cousin because of you, Banner. This means war.” 

“Well now I have a guy who has a giant, unliftable hammer on my side,” Bruce says defensively. He grabs onto Thor’s hand, grinning. “Just try me.” 

Thor smiles too. 

“I believe I owe Bruce a few more dates, so we will regrettably be missing Clint’s intervention,” Thor says. “See you later!” 

Clint makes a groupchat with them in it only to send: 

:((((( guys :( 

They don’t check it until the morning, after Bruce rolls over and complains that Thor has way better pillows. 

[c0ry-c0nvoluted]

THE ENEMY IS NOT A SKIN COLOR. THE ENEMY IS A CLASS.

White privilege. The phrase implies special rights. The phrase implies having a jumpstart in the race by way of DNA. What it doesn’t imply is that that white-skinned Jim or Judy is gonna win that race, just that the game is rigged in their favor.

I don’t hate the concept. The validity of it, I mean. It honestly rings some-kind-of-true in my brain when taking into consideration the general social status of people of color. But there’s a problem with it. Not in its validity, but in its generality, its assumption, and the overall affect it has on our society.

The biggest and most obvious problem with it is that there are tens of millions of white people (if not hundreds of millions worldwide), who are all struggling just to make ends meet (if they can at all). There are “poor white folk” everywhere. And there are white kids who are terrorized by their own parents. There are white boys and girls getting bullied at school or in their neighborhood. There are white people suffering at the hands of violent criminals, scam artists, corporations, policemen… And I’m not talking about white criminals suffering, here...

I worked with this insanely gorgeous blond who was one of several dozen (I don’t remember the actual number) of women who were raped by this cop in my city (San Diego). He’d follow them from clubs, pull them over, take what he wanted from them, then send them on their way. He got away with it up until he didn’t, but how many cops still do? His choice of victim was young and white, as are most serial killer victims, but does their skin color matter? In the sense that they’re preferred as targets, yes, but not in the sense of right and wrong. Their white skin, in this case, wasn’t doing them any favors.

But let’s get back to the topic at hand.

Is “white privilege” real?

Well that depends on what you consider “white privilege” to be, and I think that’s where our signals are getting crossed. I think that if you look at it on a more psychological level you’ll see that, yes, “white privilege” is a real thing in that “white people are less likely to be demonized or judged negatively based solely on their skin tone.” (But not on their appearance. If a white person is dressed like a thug, he/she is going to get negatively judged the same way a Hispanic would. Whereas vice versa, if a black person was dressed like a total bookworm, they’re going to get judged as such, not as a criminal.) But blacks being judged more often solely on skin color is 100% true. Black-skinned people have been demonized throughout our nation’s history (and many other nations) and this demonization, along with insidious, covert attacks on black communities by those in power, have caused two things (among a plethora of others, but two for the sake of my point). 1: It’s caused non-blacks who are not racist but are just recognizing the patterns they’ve been force-fed by the media, to unintentionally relate black-skin with ignorance, violence, and criminal behavior. And 2: It’s brought about disparity, anger, and emotional trauma in the black community that is the cause of the higher crime rates in those communities and more black-on-black crime than white-on-black crime (by the people, I mean. I’m not counting by the government because that’s a whole other fuck-storm of shit that isn’t only aimed at blacks, but at any who are considered “lower-class,” which, yes, the majority of blacks in our country are. That’s not to say there are more poor black people than poor white people. I really doubt that’s the case. But the percentage of blacks or other minorities who are poor vs the percentage of whites who are is likely leaning in the direction of exactly what makes “white privilege” a valid argument. But I’m not a “facts” guy. The numbers are just ways to distract from the problem, so you’re not gonna catch me quoting them to cry foul on the BLM movement. The reality is that yes, there are probably more poor white people total than blacks in this country, but the psychology, the demonization of blacks, is a real thing.)

But there’s a problem with looking at this as “white privilege.” Number one: if we do that we (unintentionally) discredit any white person who is or has suffered. Those who are, or have suffered, will absolutely not take kindly to being told that they are “privileged”. And what happens when they are told this? It makes anyone with white skin who has suffered or is suffering (and there’s a fuck ton of us) think to themselves, “Oh, fuck no! You think I got it good? You think you’re the only one who has problems? You think you’re the only one who’s getting fucked by the system? Well fuck you, and your white privileged bullshit excuse to whine to the guilt-ridden middle class to get your free handouts! The government has fucked me over more times than I can count!” And what does this mind-state do? It creates a racial class-war between those who have white skin and are suffering, and those who have black/brown skin and are suffering. And who wins in this scenario? If you guessed “the upper-class” you get a prize. (Whatchoo want, a fuzzy bear? A goldfish in a plastic tub? G’ahead. Pick something nice out. You earned it.) So now you got poor white people with guns itching to shoot any black person with or without a gun who supports a movement that indirectly claims that their suffering is invalid. And what does this “civil class war” accomplish? It creates more “criminals” for the fucking private-owned prisons to make money off of, further separating the upper-class from the lower, creating more suffering, more anger, more hate, MORE RACISM.

So is white privilege real? Psychologically, yes, to the extent that our society psychologically favors white skin over black/brown. But has it ever made me any more money? No. Has it ever stopped the cops from pulling me over and searching my car? Fuck no. I’ve been detained, searched, followed, fined, towed, impounded, harassed more than most people you know, regardless of your color. I’ve lost count of how many damn times I’ve been harassed by the cops in my city. Shit, I wrote a goddamn rap song about it back in the early 2000’s called SDPD, smashing on the fuckers for harassing a guy who was just trying to get by. And I was NEVER a criminal. I NEVER had any weapons or hard drugs (ok, some pills and plenty of pot, but…), I was NEVER robbing anyone or breaking into cars or homes or gang banging (maybe just a smidge of graffiti, but that shit’s art), or causing any kind of…ok, no, there was some drunken shenanigans, for sure, but that was mostly my boys, not me. Lol The point is, being white DID NOT stop me from getting constantly harassed by the cops in my city. You know what did? A new car, less homies in the ride, no smoke blowing from the windows, and a slightly more tempered demeanor while driving. I still bump my rap music, but I’m not in a car full of teenage “trouble-makers”. I still speed, but I come to a complete stop at them signs, bruh. I still run red lights, but I look reeeal fucking carefully when I do. I still zip in-and-out of lanes on the freeway, but I keep it below 80 (mostly). So the only thing that’s changed is that I “appear” to have more money (with a nicer ride), and I show more maturity in being on the road. My skin color hasn’t changed, but my run-ins with the cops have.

The bottom line: Crying out “white privilege” ain’t gonna help anyone but the rich who’re sitting back and raking in the dough off all the drama and weapon sales and fines and arrests and damaged property that needs to be rebuilt. So don’t make our society’s problem about a skin color. When you do that you divide people into groups when you should be uniting them. Divided we fall. I know most of your intentions are righteous, (and this goes out to white people too who’re acknowledging their “privilege”), but you’re doing it wrong. You’re creating enemies by unintentionally discrediting anyone with white skin who has suffered at the hands of the system, claiming that you own the rights (the privilege?) of deciding that they’re the ones who are privileged, all while they’re slowly rotting in inequity right beside you.

THE ENEMY IS NOT A SKIN COLOR. THE ENEMY IS A CLASS.

And that class is the rich. The 1%.

Are most of them white? Yes. But will that stop them from stealing money from poor white people? From bankrupting small businesses with corporate industry? From putting blue-collar white people out of work and replacing them with machines? From taking their homes when they can’t pay back their loans? From putting them in prison when they fight back right next to you for equality? No. Because the 1% only care about profit, and they don’t care who they have to manipulate, rob, demoralize, or demonize to get it, or what skin color those people have. Let’s get our heads right. Open them angry eyes and see who the enemy really is. And fight THAT enemy, not the enemy that their manipulation has created for you.

How? The real solution to “white privilege” and inequity and inequality is a very simple concept but an incredibly complex task. It involves creating a society where money is obsolete. When this happens there will be no more inequality. There will be no “superpowers” or 1%. There will be no poor. There will be no rich. There will be no profit other than the profit of betterment, progress, knowledge, discovery, science, quality of living. But there’s only one way to make money obsolete, and that’s by removing labor from our society. Sound crazy? That’s because you don’t realize how close we are to doing it anyway. A fully automated society is right around the bend, my dudes. We have the technology to make ALL LABOR OBSOLETE, in which case no one will have to work, in which case money will have no significance. What will have significance? RESOURCES. But this is a topic I’ve discussed before and will again soon and more directly. So for now what can we do? We demand a society that serves the people’s interests, not the corporations’. Unfortunately I can’t tell you how to this because I’m not into politics, I’m into actual change, not perpetuating the same system that’s fucking us all. My advice? Start spreading the concept of a RESOURCE BASED ECONOMY as loud and as often as you can. This type of society eliminates corruption and inequity and is only just now becoming possible thanks to advancements in technology. Look into it. Spread the word. AND STOP CREATING SEGREGATION AMONG OUR PEOPLE. Please, for fuck’s sake, stop adding to our problems and start moving towards eliminating them. #fightsmarter2020 Thanks for reading. -cc

[laele25]

Republicans are willfully stupid

And now that I have your attention, let me explain.  Here are some the asinine ‘wow, you’re really dumb enough to believe that, huh, hoss?’ excuses I have seen tossed around by Republicans trying to justify voting for Trump and his enablers. 1 “But Democrats want to kill babies.”  Okay, straight up, if you believe that, you’re a moron who deserved to be mocked into silence.  The only people who have been ‘killing babies’ is the US government who has thrown them in cages for the last four years and bombed the Middle East for the last 20.  Fuck off with your faux morality pearl clutching, I ain’t even renting it.   You just want to tell other people what to do with their bodies so you can justify your racism and have a false sense of morality.  Until you care about the children separated from their families, the children dying during our drone raids. or the child homeless and starving or stuck in abusive homes, you do not ‘think of the children’.   You are pro-forced birth and any CPS worker worth their salt can give you a lesson on why forcing people to have and keep children they do not want is incredibly cruel, especially to said child. 2.  “Higher wages will make things  more expensive!”  Hoover would have LOVED to have your bootchoking idiots around when the stock market crashed in ‘29.  Since you only care about anecdotal evidence instead of data, well, lucky for you, I live in a city with a $15 an hour minimum wage.  Before the country had to shut down (by the by Washington was rated the best place to ride out the pandemic because we have a sane governor and social safety nets) , there were help wanted signs in nearly every business.  Why?  Because people don’t have to have three jobs to make ends meet.  Yeah, housing is obscene, but that is because of an unregulated housing market, just like the rest of the country.   A Big Mac is still only six bucks here.  Five years after $15 an hour. And before anyone runs in with ‘But what about the people who are being paid less than $15 an hour and aren’t in ‘low wage jobs’?’  Because that’s another, ‘Wow, you really are deepthroating that boot hard, aren’t you?’  When the minimum wage goes up, ALL WAGES GO UP.  Why?  Because businesses have to pay more to get good workers.  It’s your ‘free market’ at work. And finally, the most classist argument of all ‘But those are just part-time jobs for teenagers.’  Now besides the fact all of the data says you’re fucking wrong and FDR flat out said he started the minimum wage as a living wage because any American who works full time shouldn’t be destitute, I’m gonna go again with appealing to your self-centeredness because you are all you care about. So what you’re saying is you only want fast food, retail sales, janitorial services, housekeeping, medical assistants, and secretarial work from 5pm to 10pm and weekends when those teenagers who you believe should do all that work are not in school.  On top of their on average four hours of homework a night.   Right... 3. “TAXES, OMG!”  First of all, you are not the only ones who pay taxes.  In fact, and here I go with data you won’t like, big blue liberal cities pay more taxes than you and take less tax money.  Why?  Because people have better wages, so there’s less destitute people living on food stamps.  Imagine that. Also, the taxes you already pay are going to pay for new weapons of war that will go over budget, arrive late or are never delivered, or will be obsolete or never work anyway.  Another big chunk goes to corporate subsidies, so that big corporations can pay their stakeholders even more and buy back their own stock to artificially inflate the value of the stock so they get even richer.  While paying little or no taxes at all. So, yeah, taxing people over 400k matters shit all unless you make over 400k a year and if you do, you should be paying more taxes.   You cannot avoid death or taxes.  But make sure the money is being spent on things that help you, idiot. 4. “SOCIALISM!” Insert gif of Bernie Sanders yelling boo here.  Because that’s how ridiculous y’all are.  Medicare and Social Security are socialism.  Pensions?  Socialism.   Stop using that word, you have no fucking idea what it means.   5. “Trump is doing the best he can with covid.”  You are not wrong.  This is as good as the incompetent, idiotic, senile, narcissistic, sociopathic, self-serving asshole can do.  Which means he is absolutely unfit for the job.  If you believe otherwise, you’re either as stupid as he is or don’t pay attention to anything but Fox News. And you’re probably also a tiny dicked racist who hates ‘immigrants’ even though we’re a country of immigrants.  It takes a special kind of willful, hateful ignorance to not see what’s happening.  And if you do and think that it won’t affect you, well, congrats, now you are the same as the Germans who looked the other way when the Nazis ran on anti-Semitism.   Now, if anyone has anymore stupid Republican gaslighting you want me to debunk, let me know.  Because i am fucking done.   ETA: Centerists, you’re worse than the Trumpters, because you want us to be happy with them taking away some people’s rights and leaving some people out in the cold just to mollify the sociopaths on the right.  Shame on you especially. 

[intothestarkerverse]

Paper Hearts

The Starker-Office AU the world needs.

Tony Stark is a paper salesman who hates his job but is secretly in love with the beautiful receptionist. A glimpse into their unorthodox courtship and happily ever after.

Tony Stark hated his job.

Selling paper was one of the most boring professions he could think of, and it had a very obvious expiration date that drew ever closer the more digitized the world became.  At best, he thought, he had another few years before he had to hit the unemployment line and look for another job he despised.  Nothing left to do but collect his paychecks until then, really.

His boss was an idiot.  

Scott Lang was no where near as funny as he thought he was.  His jokes caused Tony actual, physical pain.  The way the guy was a lapdog for Hope from corporate, that was even worse.  Didn’t help that for some reason Scott thought he and Tony were best friends.  The indignities he put up with for this job were not worth the pay check he took home.  Not.  At.  All.

The guy across from his desk was a killjoy.  You’d think Steve Rogers had some amazingly important job with how dedicated he was to it.  First one to arrive.  Last one to leave.  He was a puny little, sanctimonious nerd that Tony loved to play practical jokes on…which was really only one of two things that made the job bearable.  The second?  The second was Peter.

Peter fucking Parker.  

The receptionist.  

Light of his life.  

His reason for waking up in the morning.

The only damn reason he hadn’t left this fucking job in pursuit of something that didn’t make him contemplate using his letter opener to carve a giant hole into the middle of his chest.

Peter was young and beautiful and sweet and he sat directly in Tony’s line of view.  He caught himself staring at the kid way more often than he should.  He would day dream about running his fingers through those fluffy chestnut curls, tugging on the strands in the throes of passion.  He pictured what Peter’s lips would look like wrapped around more than just the straw of his water bottle.  He committed every centimeter of Peter’s face to his memory, knew every piece of clothing in the kid’s wardrobe…enough that he recognized when Peter had treated himself to a new sweater or pair of skinny jeans.  Tony stared because it was all he was allowed to do, and it was the only thing that got him through the day.  Peter caught him, too, but either the kid didn’t realize that Tony was head over heels in love with him…or he didn’t care.  

Tony really hoped it was the former, but it didn’t matter really because Peter had a fiance, Quentin Beck, some handsome asshole from the warehouse who had been promising Peter a ‘happily ever after’ that the kid had yet to realize was really a ‘never gonna happen’.  Quentin wasn’t ready to grow up, settle down, be a fucking man, and Tony had caught him flirting with people who weren’t Peter enough times to know he was a piece of shit.  Quentin Beck didn’t know what he had, but Tony did.  He hated that fucking guy, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

Someday.  Someday, Tony was going to sweep Peter off his feet, steal him away from the asshat and show the kid what a happily ever after should look like.

Someday.

If he ever worked up the nerve.

Until then…

***

Tony leaned against the reception desk, drumming his fingers on the Formica counter and waiting for Peter to finish his call.  Peter glanced up at him through a curtain of eyelashes, biting back a grin and holding a finger to his lips as he quickly scrawled a message on a notepad for Scott.

“Mhm, yeah, no, I’ll totally have him call you back…Yeah…Soon, for sure…Uh huh…Yep, I have here that it’s important so he’ll definitely get back to you…Yep…Cool, okay.  Bye.”  He placed the phone back in it’s cradle carefully and turned his attention to Tony, resting his head in one hand and blushing intensely under the other man’s gaze.  “That was corporate.  You could have gotten me into trouble.”

“I’d never get you into trouble, Pete.  I’d sooner die.”

“This job’s not worth dying over, Mr. Stark.”

“You might be…”

Peter choked out an embarrassed giggle.  “Stop it!  You’re the worst.  Did you just come over here to tease me or did you need help with the copier again?  For someone with half a degree in computers, you really suck with copiers, you know that?”

Tony shrugged, so what if that was one of his many excuses to spend a little time with Peter during the day.  He could hardly be faulted for that.  “Got you a present.  Wanted to make sure you got to enjoy it properly.”

“Oh yeah, what did you get me?”  Peter looked more than a little skeptical, and in all honesty, he probably had a right to be.

“Wait until Rogers gets back from his coffee break and then enjoy the show, Kid.”

“Oh my god, what did you do?”

Tony chuckled, stealing a piece of candy from the bowl Peter filled every week.  “I may have hacked his computer last night…sent him a very official looking email from the US Army inquiring about a very special kind of paper needed for a top secret mission and included a referral from one of his best clients.”

“You didn’t!”

“He’s always acting like his job is a matter of life and death, let’s give the geek a thrill, huh?”

“Mr. Stark, that’s so mean…”

“I could abort the mission if you really think…”

“I mean it would be a shame to waste all that hard work…”

***

“No.”

“Seriously, Steve, I haven’t even gotten to ask…”

“I know, but whatever it is you want, Tony, it can’t be good.  So, no.  My answer is no.”

Tony frowned, hanging his head in frustration for several seconds.  “I know you got Peter in the office Secret Santa thing…”

“How do you know that?  Did you just conveniently skip over the ‘secret’ part?”

Tony was trying really hard to be nice here.  Steve wasn’t making it easy.  “I asked everyone else.  Paid them.  Did them favors.  Tracked down the lucky bastard who was gifting Peter…and Fate hates me, so here we are.  Look, Rogers, I know we’re not friends…”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Mine.  Mine.  It’s clearly mine.  I accept the blame.  I do.  It’s just…I have something planned for Pete and I need to be his Secret Santa.  I will do literally anything.  Name your price.”

“I can’t be bought, Tony.  Peter has a fiance, or did you forget that?  Whatever you want from him, it can’t be good.”

Tony groaned, hitting his forehead against the top of his desk.  “I know Peter has a fiance, Rogers.  Believe me, no one is more aware of Quentin’s existence than I am.  The guy’s a jerk…a bigger jerk than me, and that’s really saying something.  You know it’s true.  He’s a piece of shit and Peter deserves better.  The guy is going to give him some generic piece of crap for Christmas, no thought at all.  You know it.  Peter’s a good kid.  He deserves…he deserves a lot more than that shithole.  Let me give him something nice.  I’m not going to break up his relationship.  I’m not going to lead him down the path of temptation.  I just want to give him something nice and make him smile without him feeling like he needs to do something for me, okay?  Rogers…I’m begging you.”

Steve stared at him for several long minutes before he sighed and nodded.  “Fine.  Yeah.  Okay.”

“Bless you, Steve Rogers.  Consider this our armistice.  War over.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

***

Tony had never wanted to hug anyone as badly as he wanted to hug Peter in that moment.

The kid looked defeated.

He was seated at a little card table towards the back of the comic book shop with several stacks of his own self-published comic in little piles all around him.  

No one was stopping to look at them.  To talk to him.  To acknowledge his existence at all.

His eyes were glassy.  The kid was literally minutes away from crying and he just couldn’t let that happen.

“Just your luck that you’d have your debut on a rainy day, Parker.”

Peter jumped, scrubbing a hand over his cheeks and putting on a brave face as he looked up at Tony with a paradoxical mixture of relief and fear.  “Tony!  You…you came.”

“Course I came.  Wouldn’t miss this for the world.  But seriously, you know rainy days are terrible for business, right?  It’s a proven fact.  Why…I’ve never seen so few people in here before.  Gotta be the weather.”

“Yeah…no, yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”  Peter looked like he didn’t quite believe Tony, but he was also apparently eager for an excuse to explain his lackluster turn out.  Had anyone else from the office even come?  Ass holes.  All of them.  And where the fuck was Quentin?

“So, let’s see…”  Tony reached out for one of the books, carefully flipping through the pages and perusing the content with a little humming noise.  “Hey, now, do you take inspiration from people you know?”

Peter was blushing.  “Maybe…”

“No maybe about it, Peter, you cannot tell me this handsome bastard isn’t based off me.”  He flipped the book around, tapping at an image of a roguishly handsome superhero in crimson and gold armor.  “You know I’m a raging narcissist, right?  I was going to buy a book anyway, but now I have to buy the whole series cause I’m one of the stars.  You in here, too?”

Peter nodded slowly, his blush darkening.  “Yeah…but I won’t tell you who.  You’ll have to figure that out…”

“I do love a challenge.”  Tony closed the book and reached out to add one from every pile to the one in his hands.  “So, how much?”

“Um…they’re ten a piece but…”

“But obviously that’s much too low so I’ll give you a hundred for the set of five.”

“Tony, no…”

“Fine.  A hundred and fifty it is.  You’re a tough negotiator, Pete.”

“Tony!”  The smile on Peter’s face was worth every fucking penny.  And who needed to eat, anyway?

***

“Mr. Stark!  You promised that the goatee was not because of my comics.”

Peter was standing at his desk with both hands over his mouth.  His face was as brilliantly red as the home made Halloween costume Tony had donned for work that day…the costume he had based entirely off of Peter’s comic and the character he just knew was based on him.  Had to be.  And dammit, if he was right…if he was right, than Peter had even made himself Tony’s fucking love interest…and wasn’t that just the most interesting thing he’d ever read in his whole damn life?

“So, I lied.  It’s not my fault. You’re such a damn good artist that I took one look at my comic book self with that awesome facial hair and said, ‘Fuck, Tony, why did you never realize that you’d be even more devastatingly attractive if you just had an impeccably groomed goatee?’  The world has you to thank for it, Pete, and I’m definitely keeping it because it’s been a hit.”

Peter’s hands dropped from his face to his sides.  He was chewing on his bottom lip, looking pensive.  “Who…I didn’t know you were dating anybody Mr. Stark.  I’m glad…they like it.  I guess…”

Tony didn’t bother to correct him.  Not yet.  A little jealousy might do the kid some good, let him know how much Tony wanted to choke the fucking life out of Quentin every time that piece of shit showed his face.

***

Peter was wearing a new soft blue sweater over a button down shirt and Tony was trying very hard not to swoon over how fucking adorable he looked.  He was playing with his gum, winding it around his finger before popping it into his mouth to begin again.  He had his phone concealed in his lap so no one could see him playing on social media while he was supposed to be working.  That was probably why he didn’t hear Tony approach until the man was standing directly in front of him, leaning against the reception desk and looking at Peter with what Tony recognized was something very close to the heart-eye emoji.  God, this kid.  

He really couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to make a move.

Be brave.

Be bold.

Be the fucking hero in that kid’s comic.

“What are you doing tonight, Pete?”

Peter jumped a little, looking up at Tony with a little flush of surprise.  “Tonight?  I don’t know.  Quentin’s got poker at Drax’s, so probably just going to lay in bed and catch up on Netflix.  Why?”

Tony smirked, dropping something on the desk in front of him.

“Oh my god, how did you get this?  It’s not even supposed to be released for another two weeks…”  Peter’s excitement was quelled by the sudden realization, “Is this a bootleg?”

Tony nodded.  He was never going to admit to how much he’d spent for a bootleg copy of something he cared absolutely nothing about because in the end…it was going to be completely worth it.  “Come over to my place tonight.  We can break the law together.”

“You think if the FBI raids your place while we’re in the middle of it that we could at least be cellmates, Mr. Stark?”

“Don’t worry, Pete, I’ll protect you in the prison yard.  No one would dare put a hand on you.”

“I’ve always thought you’d make a great prison husband.”  The witty banter ground to a halt with Peter’s last quip, his light brown eyes flaring wide.  His mouth had runaway without his better judgment, but Tony wasn’t quite ready to let it go yet.

“Oh, I’d make a great husband, prison or not.”  Tony held Peter’s gaze for a second longer than was probably comfortable for both of them, the kid’s face was red as a cherry tomato when they were interrupted by the sound of an exasperated sigh from behind them.

“Tony…could you just grow up already?  Some of us are actually trying to work…”

Peter giggled into his hand, leaning to the side to look around Tony at Steve Rogers’ desk.  “I thought you and Mr. Rogers had finally ended the Civil War, what did you do this time?”  He was careful to keep his tone soft enough that it didn’t carry.

“Hm?”  Tony was still distracted by thoughts of Peter as his prison wife, but managed to pull himself out of it to look back over his shoulder and shrug.  “I super glued everything to his desk last night.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Peter was under his desk now, hugging his sides and laughing himself breathless.  

***

It was far from the first time he and Peter had spent time together outside of work.  They were friendly, in fact.  Quentin didn’t share any of Peter’s interests, and that left plenty of things for Tony to exploit.  Movies Quentin wouldn’t be caught dead seeing.  Video game releases.  Comic conventions.  Hell, Tony had even gone to a few games of D&D with Peter because he would take literally any excuse to spend time with that kid.

Now, they were cuddled up on Tony’s couch in his apartment with enough snack food to weather the apocalypse and a bootleg that Peter was dying to see.  Though, for something Peter was dying to see, he didn’t seem as enthusiastic about watching it as he had earlier that day.

“Pete?  You okay?  Something happen after work?”  He’d been fine when they’d said their goodbyes that day.

Peter ran a hand through his curls and let out a long, shaky breath.  “I think Quentin might be cheating on me.  I don’t have proof but…Drax didn’t know anything about a poker game tonight and it’s just, it’s little things, you know?  I found this little church I really liked for the wedding and I mentioned it to him, that we could maybe set a date…but he brushed me off.  MJ…you know from customer service?  She says I’m an idiot, that he’s never going to marry me and now I’m afraid she’s right…do think she’s right, Tony?”

Tony reached out, drawing the younger man close and inhaling the scent of his shampoo as he tucked Peter against his chest.  “You’re not an idiot, Peter.  You’re way better than that piece of shit in the warehouse deserves.  You’re beautiful and smart and funny and talented, and if you were mine…we’d have fucking eloped the second you said you’d marry me.”

Peter pulled back with a watery smile, “Yeah?”

“Mhm.  They increased the limit on my credit card last month.  Enough for two tickets to Vegas, a week long stay in a crappy casino and a quickie wedding chapel.  I’d lock that shit down before you had a second to realize that you could do better than me, too.”

“Better than you?”  Peter sounded as if that idea was more insane than eloping to Vegas minutes after a marriage proposal.  “Tony, there isn’t anyone better than you.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t be with that piece of shit, Quentin Beck.”

Now, Peter just looked confused.  “In what universe did I ever have a choice between you and Quentin?”

“This one.”

Peter’s head slowly canted to one side, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing.  “No…”

“Oh yes, Pete.”  Never in his wildest dreams had ever thought that Peter thought Tony was out of his league.  Was the kid blind?  Did he not own a mirror?  Did he not know how brilliant and funny and talented…  “Oh yes..”  Those last two words were repeated a hair’s breadth from Peter’s lips as Tony leaned forward to bridge the distance between them.

It was everything Tony had ever thought it would be and so much more.  Peter’s lips were soft, his whimpers were music to Tony’s ears.  Tony let himself bury his fingers in those chestnut curls and inhale the scent of him, revel in the taste of him, live in that moment as if it was the only one he was ever going to get.

The kiss went on until neither one of them could breath, until they were forced to pull back with heaving chests and swollen lips.  Peter stared at Tony for several seconds before he threw off the blanket and walked out of the room.

What.

What the fuck.

Tony was dumbfounded.  Was Peter not into it?  Had he just been shot down?  Was Peter not even going to talk to him…

No.

No.

Peter was back.

With his laptop?

Tony frowned, watching as Peter dropped the computer in his lap followed by something small and golden.  Glancing up, Tony caught sight of Peter’s now empty ring finger.

“Put your money where your mouth is, Stark.”

Tony stared. “What…”

“Two tickets.  Vegas.  ASAP.”

“Wait…”  He couldn’t be serious.

“No, you said you wouldn’t make me wait.  I already Snapped Quentin.  We’re broken up.  I’m single…but I don’t want to be.  So buy me those tickets to Vegas and a ring…when we get there.”

Tony slowly opened the laptop, stealing glances at Peter ever few seconds as he booted it and pulled up a travel site.  “You’re not…this isn’t a joke, right?”

“Not a joke.  You’re not the only one who’s been pining, Tony Stark.  Why do you think Quentin hated you so much?  He knew I was super into you…hell, Tony, I made you my lover in my comics…You’ve been my unattainable crush since I started my job.  You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met. Most supportive.  We have fun together.  We have a lot in common.  We just…”

“Yeah.”  Tony was smiling now, not even second guessing himself as he typed in his credit card numbers.  “I don’t know if we can get a week off work…”

“Four day weekend is good enough for now.  I’ll call Mr. Lang and let him know we won’t be in.  I’ll have to tell him why…”

“God help us.”

***

Four days later when Tony and Peter returned to work in the same car, they arrived to find an impromptu wedding shower waiting for them.  Quentin had quit.  Left all of Peter’s stuff in the warehouse in a pile in the middle of one of the docking bays. But whatever, the less they had to see of that prick the better.  Scott seemed happier about their elopement than they were, and he’d gone to great lengths to print up t-shirts proclaiming that everyone in the office ‘shipped Starker’.  Even Rogers was wearing one.

Tony pretended to hate it.

Really he fucking loved it.  

Maybe his job wasn’t the absolute worst after all…

[butterbeeryuta]

warning: smut content

‘Thank you so much Yuta, I really appreciate it’ you said, stepping in his hotel room as you tightly held on your clothes, ensuring your undies (yes, undies) won’t fall off as you head towards the bathroom.

‘No, don’t worry it’s fine. Did you call the reception though? We’ll be here for the next 5 days so maybe it’d be best to ask.’ I turned my head towards him, taking a slight step back at his appearance. God, why is he so pretty? His dark hark lightly draped over his doe eyes, enhancing his tanned skin as he slightly tilted his head to the side, making him more ethereal than he already did. At the same time, he looked so comfortable and soft. His oversized shirt and his beautiful smile certainly did not help me, considering I was planning to use his bathroom where I will be naked... and he will be outside. I hope it will be fine. I hope.

'Oh, y-yeah. I called them 3 hours ago, and they did say that they'll help me. But that was 3 hours ago.' I quickly said, mentally scolding myself for looking at the man... in a very specific way that we shall not talk about. I excused myself to the bathroom quickly before he could say anything about my flustered state. What was going on with me?

'Hey thanks for letting me shower, Yuta. Though not gonna lie, their shampoo sucks so I guess it'd be better if we buy one from the convenience store later instead.' I said, drying my hair with the crappy towel provided by the hotel.

...

Why is he not responding?

I lifted my head, only to see the man to be looking at my state. OH.

'I swear I'm wearing shorts underneath this long ass shirt, I swear I'm not trying to do anything inappropriate' I immediately covered my mouth the moment I rambled, internally hating myself for being a mess. Yuta's eyes quickly looked back to my embarrassed state, clearly unsure of how to respond from looking at his face.

'Oh yeah, no the shampoos here do suck. We can get them tomorrow after we come back from the lingerie store. And u-uh, yeah no you're fine. Pants can be uncomfortable so I--'

'I am wearing shorts, you pathogen'

'Pathogen?'

'A disease causing organism? You know like a virus or bacteria--'

'Yes, I know what a pathogen is. But why?' He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. Oh boy. I giggled instead, making myself look more like an idiot.

'I give interesting names to people. But no bad intentions of course. Anyway! I was thinking we can maybe start designing and coming up with fabric choices for the new blush collection?' I asked, hoping to divert away from why I called him a pathogen.

'Uh yeah sure.' He awkwardly replies, taking a seat on his bed.

Why am I so dumb?

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

'So I was thinking that we can maybe use a mix of cotton, lace, and silk so that it can be both comfortable and stylish. And we have a good connection with one of the cotton production companies in Seoul, so financially speaking, we really shouldn't have that big of a problem.' I said, sketching a few designs on the digital tablet.

'I feel that the design should depend on the fabric. We don't really want something innocent-looking with lace do we?' He says, pushing up his glasses to see the drawing a little more clearly. 'Like this one, this seems pretty innocent and for people to feel, I guess submissive? The design will nonetheless make people feel baby-ish, so we should maybe stick to either cotton or a mix of cotton and silk.' I looked at the design he was pointing at; it was a simple and plain lingerie set that was in nude pink.

'I don't know about you, but I think you are allowed to feel whatever you want when you wear anything. You don't necessarily have to feel submissive or baby-ish when you wear simple or plain lingerie. And besides, lace can also give off that innocent vibe as well. For this design specifically, how 'bout we keep the base as cotton, and have white lace covering both the bra and undies?' I suggested as I drew the lace material on the sketch. And for the second time, he was silent.

'Did I say anything wrong?' I asked, putting the tablet down. Yuta looked hesitant at first, which could easily be observed from the way he was biting his lip and avoiding eye contact with me. After a few seconds of silence, Yuta sighed, finally looking at me.

'No, not at all. It just amazes me how hard-working and open-minded you are. I still feel sorta like trash when I came into the company, thinking I was one of the best employees. That was of course until I met you. So yeah, it's just an eye-opener for me I guess' he said, scratching the back of his head. It took me a while to comprehend whatever he said, but I was affirmative of the fact that he said something nice.

'Well I do not know about you, but I do not think you're trash. You fucking cried with me about climate change— that's some wild ass shit to do. You may have been a dick in the beginning for insulting my outfit and doing what you wanted to do before listening to the company's motto and beliefs, but that's all okay now. You're not really trash Yuta. You're maybe... recyclable?' He laughed softly at my last comment, making me feel somewhat relieved that he did not take my last comment seriously. But as per the rest, I definitely meant it. Yeah, I did not like him at first, but he has gotten so much better and is surely way more tolerable than he was before. As our laughter died down, our eyes slowly met each others. Oh my fucking god am I gonna f-word? Y/n get your shit together, and can you please stop being a chaotic meme for once in your life, and actually be serious or at least civil—

Before I could potentially embarrass myself for the 40th time, Yuta's hands reached up for my face, gently holding it in both of his palms. 'Can I kiss you?' He asks, eyes glimmering as he waited for my response. I nodded at him, his lips moving forward, eventually closing the gap between us. My hands unconsciously reached up to the back of his neck, pushing him closer to me as we continued to kiss. His hands slowly left my face, dragging them down to my waist as he gently lifts my body on his, intensifying the moment. I pulled apart, breathing heavily, dark, lust-filled eyes staring at one another, completely unsure of whether or not to take it to the next step.

‘Do you want to do this?’ He asks, thumbing the sides of my waist. Probably looking like a complete idiot, I nodded at him immediately, only to earn a cocky smirk from the fashion graduate. He reached down to tug them hem of his shirt over his head, only to reveal his toned upper body. Before I could stare and most likely drool, he leaned down to meet my lips again as his hand slowly made its way inside my oversized tee, reaching up for my bare breast. His long fingers took the hardened nipple, gently playing with it only to earn low moans from me. Yuta broke the kiss, and trailed kisses along the side of my neck as he continued to toy with the nipple.

‘D-do something please’ I whimpered, hips unconsciously meeting his, yearning for more of his touch. I could feel his lips smiling against my neck, his hands slowly dragging down my stomach, slowly slipping into the band of my shorts, making contact with the sensitive nub through the fabric of my underwear. Soft moans escaped my mouth without even realising, my hands immediately covering my mouth from embarrassment. Why are you like this y/n?

Yuta's lips left my neck, his breath fanning over my hands as his hands continued to rub my clit. 'Please don't cover your moans' he says breathily as his lust-filled eyes looks down at my vulnerable state. My hands slowly left my mouth as low whimpers and moans escaped as his hands continued to work. The pressure against my clit gradually increased, the speed of his fingers slowly increasing as well.

'F-fuck Yuta' I whimpered, hips furiously grinding up in the air to meet the sweet release. As if Yuta knew what was about to come, he inserted one finger in my velvety walls as his thumb continuously stimulated the sensitive nub. He placed his head beside my ear whispering, 'cum for me princess.' Just like that, a rush of pleasure ran through my body, the immensity taking control of my body as his fingers slowed down. The gorgeous Japanese man chuckled at my fucked out state, and my eyes caught a slight smile on his face before my eyes shut its eyes closed.

Laces and Things

crack, fluff, and smut corporate au; lingerie designers!yuta x fem reader

taglist: @neocitytevhno @mapleeleafmark @thealexalcala @my-chaos-in-stars @cscarletred @lavellanfriendliness @boinkhs

part 12 / masterlist