#someone take powerpoint away from me

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Teacher's Always Right

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Your students badger you about your relationship status and you let slip you're dating a hockey player who plays for the Vancouver Canucks. They don't believe you, you're petty enough to arrange a school trip to Rogers Arena just to prove your point.

Notes: Very self-indulgent of me as someone who teaches teenagers for a living and regularly gets questioned on my relationship status. They really do bully you (affectionately).

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You're in the middle of teaching your high schoolers about the fur trade in colonial Canada, mid-speech, arms spread wide as you gesture to your powerpoint when a teenage voice interrupts you.

"Miss, are you married?" It's David, sat at the back, legs stretched out as far as he can reach them. He's ironically enough wearing a Canucks jersey, specifically Number 43...a very, very familiar number to you. As is the question. In your years of teaching this isn't the first time you've been interrupted to be questioned on your relationship status, in fact it happens multiple times a year. Each set of students eager to know why you're a miss and if you'll be a mrs soon and are going to be leaving them to have a baby. When you were single, the questions were usually why?

"No." You've gotten rather good at deflecting or at least not letting slip the reality of your relationship, usually finding out you're not single is enough for them, but there's something about David's attitude that screams persistant curiosity. It makes you wonder why you bother teaching your subject at all when he's more curious about your love life than History itself

"Do you have boyfriend?"

"Yes, does this have anything to do with British colonisation or the fur trade or....?" You lean back on your desk, board pen landing gently on the surface, knowing that you're not going to be free of this conversation for at least another 2 minutes.

"What's your boyfriend do?" You breathe a deep sigh and look around the room, you don't want to get into who your boyfriend is. It's not like its a well known fact that you're dating the captain of the Vancouver Canucks and you try to keep it that way. Not because you're ashamed but because its your private life, school and home, those are as separate as you can make them. It would be impossible to do that if everyone was talking about your relationship, although you know eventually it'll become more public.

Stacy from one of the desk by the windows chimes in this time, curiosity peaked, dragging her away from her current hobby of staring out the window in boredom, "C'mon, miss, it can't be that bad? What? Is he like unemployed or something?" She says while chewing loudly on a wad of gum.

"Gum in the bin, Stacy." Her chewing stops and she slumps as she stomps her way to your classroom bin, spitting the gum in with a roll of her eyes.

"So? Is he unemployed?" You decide to answer the question, only because Stacy actually did what you said this time. You hated gum in the classroom, mostly because it always ended up on the bottom of your shoes and made them stick to the floor as you walked. You wouldn't mind it so much if they could all just throw it away normally.

"No. He's got a job, a good job." A really good job, a ridiculously good job actually. You didn't talk money with Quinn much, but the reality was that he made an amount in a year that you would never make in a life time as a teacher.

"Sooo???" David interjects, leaning forward now in his seat, clearly not happy enough to just know your boyfriend isn't some unemployed bum.

"He's a hockey player."

"Like beer league?"

"No. Like NHL." You watch your classes faces in what feels like slow motion, the series of disbelieving looks, wide eyes and raised eyebrows that are quickly followed by a chorus of objections and claims that you can't be telling the truth.

"Nah, no way! You're not here, teaching us, and dating a guy who makes millions, nah." It's actually frustrating, it shouldn't be. You've literally had students throw tables at you and yet, the idea that they think you are a liar is what makes you frustrated. Is it really that hard to believe that you enjoy your job and don't want to scrounge off of your pro-athlete boyfriend? Or that hard to believe that you managed to snag a pro-athlete in the first place?

"You don't believe me?"

"Nah, like if you are, he's gotta be in some really bad team in the US." You're already formulating a plan to prove to your students that you're not lying and not dating a shit NHL player. Sure, the plan involves a lot more work for you, but the idea is in your head and you can't help but think that it'll be worth it.

"He's a Canuck." You smirk a little, knowing the mention of the local team would get a response. Most of the kids you teach go to at least one game a year or watch it on TV. Some have even seen you at the games, but you always sit in the stands like a regular fan. Mostly because Quinn can't really talk to you anyway when he's locked into a game. You'd serve as more of a distraction if you sat front and centre every game.

"No, no way!" David stands, slamming his hands on his desk, "You're lying!" Half the class echo his claims that you must be lying and it makes you even more determined to prove them wrong. Do you really need to prove to a bunch of teenagers that you're dating an NHL player? No, do you want to? Absolutely.

"Fine, don't believe me, but i'm not lying. I'm dating a Vancouver Canuck."

It takes a little to get them all back on track with the lesson but you manage it. Although you're just as distracted. The moment the bell goes to signal lunch break and your classroom empties, you're on your phone calling your boyfriend, even though you know he's probably in the middle of practice.

He answers on the second ring, the sound of the rink in the background loud and clear as pucks hit the sideboards and skates scratch up the ice.

"Hey, baby, everything okay?" It's unusual for you to call him in the work day and you can hear the worry in his voice, even if he'll pretend he's not worried at seeing your name pop up when you should be working.

"Hey, I'm fine, don't worry...but...you know how you love me?" You fiddle with a little wooden bear that sits on your desk. Quinn bought you it after finding out your favourite animals were any type of bear, it's left ear is broken off and it's got a little bit of red paint where it fell on a floor one time, but you love it anyway.

"Uh huh?" The worry in his voice gives out to amusement at realising you're after something. On his end Quinn is stood at the bench watching the guys run drills, Tocc giving him a look as if to say 'hurry up'.

"And you know how you want to always make me happy?" He smiles at the faux innocent voice you put on, as if he'd deny you anything.

"What do you need me to do, baby?" There's zero hesitation, typical Quinn really, if you want something you've got it, if you need him to do something he's agreeing before all the terms are laid out. He's lucky you don't abuse that sort of power really, he'd spoil you completely if you let him.

"I need you to help me organise a school trip to see you guys practice and meet you all, so that I can prove to my students that I am actually dating an NHL player because they're calling me a liar and I will not be called a liar by teenagers who gaslight me all the time!" The faux innocent voice gives way to your rapid ramble, annoyance riding your tone as you pace across the front of your classroom.

You're greeted firstly by his loud and genuine laugh, so loud that it makes you pull the phone away from your ear. It takes a solid minute for Quinn to stop laughing, and he can see the looks he's getting from the ice, Brock throws him a questioning eyebrow raise, Petey perks his head up at the sound of his captain actually laughing that hard.

It's the dead silence on your end that makes him stop, "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes! They're telling me i'm lying and I will not be called a liar!"

"Okay, so let me get this straight." He runs a hand through his hair, before leaning against the side of the bench, "Your students don't believe you're dating a canuck, so you need me to help you organise a school trip-"

"For free!" You interrupt, knowing you won't get permission for a trip that costs the school anything more than a few buses and fuel costs, school funding being what it is.

"For free, to prove that you're dating me?" There are easier ways, Quinn thinks, to prove this. Like, him posting a picture of you together on the internet or him kissing you in front of the arena at a game, but it's kind of cute how much you're affronted by your students calling you a liar. It also sounds way more fun.

"Yup, is that...is that too much to ask? I'm being silly aren't I?" He hears it in your tone, the way you seem to start second guessing yourself, can hear you tapping a fingernail against your desk, probably messing with the little bear figurine he got you all those years ago.

"A little silly, but for you? I think I can pull some strings, honey."

You know Quinn will say yes to most things you ask, but you hadn't actually expected him to agree this time. It had felt too big, too much. Your normal requests were small, something like asking if he could get you a doughnut on his way home or could he put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, i'm serious." It takes a beat before your almost squealing in delight down the phone at him, the realisation that he's actually saying yes hitting and he can't help but laugh even as he pulls the phone away from his ear.

"I love you! Have I told you that today?" Your voice is sweet and happy, brighter than it was before. It makes him want to always say yes to you, the way you light up like a christmas tree.

"Mmm, not since 6am this morning."

"Well, I love you and you are the absolute best boyfriend I've ever had and I will never take you for granted."

He can see Tocc motioning him over, telling him without words that its time for the call to end and get back to being captain. Part of him just wants to keep talking with you, rare as it is to get to do during a working day, but he has responsibilities just like you do.

"I have to go, baby, I have practice...but we'll talk about this later, okay?"

He knows his evening is going to be spent planning out what you want this trip to look like before he goes away and tries to make it happen, but he doesn't mind. Anything to make his baby happy. Even if that is trying to prove a bunch of teenagers wrong.

Between the two of you it takes about 2 months to organise the trip. A lot of that time simply spent getting risk assessments done, approval from your administration sorted and organising parental consent. It also takes you getting the sports teacher on side because it was becoming difficult to find a justification as a History teacher for why you wanted to take kids to meet some hockey players. By the time you've organised it, most of your students have forgotten your claims. You have not forgotten their belief that you are a liar, however.

"I can't believe you managed to get us a trip to Rogers Arena! To meet the Canucks! Best teacher ever!" The hockey boys in your class are especially stoked, many of them playing in junior teams and following the Canucks closely as their team of choice. David is no exception to that rule, arriving to the school bus in so many bits of Vancouver merchandise that you're unsure how he's managing to walk weighed down as he is.

"I told you, my boyfriend plays for them." You remind him, ticking him off the register of kids and ushering him up into the bus.

"Miss, we all know that's not true." He turns to you just as he's about to dispear to find his seat. The scepticism written all over his face.

It makes you shake your head, waiting for the moment the puck drops.

The entire ride to the stadium features your students making fun of you for saying your boyfriend was a canuck, you let it slide simply because you're looking forward to seeing them eat their words. They think its funny right now, but you know you're getting the last and final laugh.

You're met at the entrance by, surprisingly, Tocc, who greets you with a warm hug, "Hey, how you doing?"

"I'm good, thank you for having us, Tocc." You like Tocc, he's a good coach and you like that he cares about how the guys are as people not just how they perform. You also can see how much Quinn appreciates him as coach, so you have a soft spot for the scary looking guy.

"No problem," You can feel the weight of 50 eyes on you, all varying shades of disbelief as they realise you seem a little too familiar when interacting with the Head Coach and its only the beginning. You can't help but smile simply because they're starting to realise that maybe they fucked up. Maybe their doubt was misplaced, maybe you actually were telling the truth all along.

"Are Quinn and the guys on the rink or in the locker room?"

"Rink, easier to fit all the kids, but we've got to get them booted up first." The famililarity with which you refer to Quinn and the guys, does not go past David and Stacy both of whom share a look that screams 'don't tell me that she actually knows them...'.

It takes a bit of time to get all 50 kids in skates, although at least 20 of them bring their own, as do you. You're not much of a skater, but dating Quinn meant you couldn't avoid him buying you a decent pair for family skate and the few times he manages to drag you on the ice each year.

You're about to put your own on when Quinn makes his way over to you clearly having just come off the ice, guards on his skates and hair messy from his helmet. He waves briefly at some of the kids before reaching you, taking your skates in hand without hesitation.

"Y'know I can do it myself, right?"

"When have I ever let you do your own skates? Besides, I thought you wanted the last laugh?" He nods his head in the direction of your students who stand gaping at the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks putting your foot in a skate and putting said skate between his thighs to help him tighten the laces with care. Not something one does for a strange teacher they don't know.

"I'm really enjoying myself already. The whole ride they were giving me all sorts of hell about it, and now I can see their little brains working hard to figure out if I was actually telling the truth or not."

You watch Quinn work, finishing tying off your first skate before reaching for the other, his hands are sure on your calf as he slips your foot into it. "The guys are looking forward to it, think this might be their favourite practice of the year. You might be their favourite WAG now."

"All I had to do was bring a bunch of teenagers to the rink to get them to love me?" Quinn stops mid lace pull, smirk firmly in place as he looks at you from underneath his eyelashes.

"Y'know they loved you already, right? Pretty sure Petey is your number one fan."

"That's because I bribe him with sweets." Specifically his favourite sour candy which makes his eyes water. The more sour the better.

Quinn huffs out a laugh, tying off your laces before patting your foot and setting it back on the ground. His hands reach out to help you to your feet and linger on yours a little longer than is strictly necessary.

"You ready for this?"

"Can't back out now, so I guess I have to be." There's a slight bubbling of nerves under your skin, the sense that your students might not think this is cool and instead think that you're undeserving of your relationship, but you shrug it off. After all, they're kids, their opinion on your relationship is genuinely not important.

"See you on the rink?"

"See you there." You watch him walk away and try to ignore the buzz of chatter you can hear from students, commenting on the fact that Quinn did your skates for you.

You get them registered, orderly and help them file onto the rink, the less sure of the bunch buddied up with someone who had more experience skating to avoid 50 kids bowling each other over on the ice. You did not want to deal with a pile of kids flat on the ice after knocking each other over, the paper work would be ridiculous.

You stand back and just watch. The clear awe on their faces as they step out onto the ice, the large rink impressive any day let alone for kids who had never stepped foot on a rink that size. It makes you smile, knowing you're contributing to their memories, providing something great even if it all started out of petty spite. Even if they don't believe you, you feel good knowing they're getting to enjoy this experience.

You skate nearer to the front, Brock and Petey giving you a bright smile and wave, a variety of nods of recognition from the others. Little things that once again tell your students you know these men better than they expected you to.

"Hey, guys. Welcome to Rogers Arena, it's great to have you here," Quinn starts the introduction, smoothly sliding forward on his skates and gesturing to the line of players as he proceeds to introduce each them by name and position, before finally getting to himself, "And i'm Quinn Hughes, Captain of the team,"

"And Norris trophy winner" You chime in, arms crossed as you watch your boyfriend do what he's best at. He's good with fans especially kids, even if he's terrible with the after game reporters.

He turns to you with a bright grin, "Hi, baby," You can see the twinkle in his eye as he drops the petname, you know he does it on purpose to get the reaction that he does from your students as a wave of muttering and murmuring goes through the little crowd.

"Hi, honey, thanks for having us." You throw it right back, more sickly sweet than you'd usually be, playing up to your little audience who practically gasp.

"Anything for my girl."

"No fucking way!" "What the hell?!" You watch each face drop, mouths open, eyes wide. Watch David as he swears loudly face aghast, almost horrified at the realisation that he might have been making fun of Quinn Hughes' girlfriend the entire time he'd been calling his teacher a liar.

"Language, David!" You tell him off even as you smirk, watching the murmurs die off as Quinn and Boeser talk the kids through skating techniques and how best to shoot the puck, the different techniques and ways to hit the puck with the stick. Half of it makes little sense to you but its nice to watch how the kids get engaged, how Quinn takes over a leadership and teaching role.

You mostly take a step back throughout, watching your students learn from Quinn and the guys, but every now and then Quinn finds you under the pretense of fixing your stance or giving you a tip or piece of advice.

Like now, as his hands reach out, fixing how you hold the hockey stick, foot kicking yours just slightly further apart to adjust your stance.

"So, think they believe you now?" You look over at your students, the joy they're having learning hockey from some of the best, but also at the looks they keep sending your way. You're certain they've learnt their lesson, the teacher is always right, at least when it comes to her own love life.

"I think I am offically the coolest teacher in school, so thanks for that." You reach up and kiss Quinn on the cheek, quick and chaste, nothing inappropriate considering you're both at work and surrounded by kids, but it's enough to make his cheeks flush red.

He rubs the back of his neck with that boyish smile of his and it makes you want to kiss him all over again, "Well, I couldn't have a bunch of teenagers calling my girlfriend a liar."

You're so stuck in the moment with him that you don't notice David and his friends until they're upon you and calling out to Quinn. The picture of respect when talking to who might just be their new favourite NHL star.

"Hey, Mr Hughes?" Conveniently half the kids surrounding you are the ones who claimed you must have been dating some beer league level player or some guy from the Chicago Blackhawks.

"You can call me Quinn, Mr Hughes is my dad. What's up, dude?"

"So when are we going to be calling teach Mrs Hughes?" It's your turn to flush, face warming harshly as Quinn's practically asked when he's proposing to you by a spotty 15 year old.

"David!" You might never be able to call your future child David at this rate, far too familiar with calling the name in admonishment. Definitely no David's in your future. Add that name to the list of names you can't use.

David looks at you with a wide grin, braces on full display. "What? I'm tryin' a help you get that bank!" It's actually mortifying, you thank your lucky stars that Quinn knows you're not actually after his money because if a 15 year old were to ruin your relationship you might actually become a super villain.

"I do not need a 15 year old wingman!"

"Baby, it's alright." Quinn wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side as if that will sooth the embarrassment of having a 15 year old try to help you get a rich husband, "Uh, to answer your question, it won't be too long now, bud."

"So, like 6 months? A year? Next week?"

"Oh my god..." You turn your face into Quinn's shoulder, your groan muffled by his jersey. You're certain you might actually pass away from embarrassment, even if deep down there's a little thrill in your stomach that Quinn basically just said he's going to propose to you sooner rather than later.

"I gotta keep it a secret, sorry, man! Gotta keep Mrs Hughes on her toes." Your toes curl at the way he calls you Mrs Hughes, a small smile on your face hidden by his jersey.

A little back and forth is exchanged before David and his friends decide their bored and skate off towards Boeser who's going over the finer points of 'get to the net' and 'just shoot the puck'.

You mumble into Quinn's shoulder as his hands run up and down your back in soothing strokes, "Are you really ganging up on me with a bunch of teenagers?"

"Hey, I just told you that I want to marry you and you're mad at me?" He's not serious though, grinning as pushes you back to look at him. It's adorable, the pout on your face as you glare up at him for making fun of you. Although, you're always adorable to him, so maybe he's biased,

"Correction, you told a 15 year old that you wanted to marry me."

"Okay, okay, I see the problem." He shakes his head solemnly, hands on your shoulders as he lowers his voice just a touch, "Baby, just so you know I want to marry you."

"Okay."

"Okay?" You watch as he stands, mouth agape at your casual response. You're sure he was expecting you to giggle or squeal, but you're determined to mess with him a little.

"That's...nice to know?" You grin at him even as internally you're screaming because your boyfriend wants to marry you and you definitely want to marry him.

"You're such a fucking nerd."

"You're dating a teacher, that's like my whole thing. I'm a professional nerd."

"Yeah... it's cute. It's why I want to marry you."

"Quinn!" You shove him away with a laugh. Maybe your students won't be embarrassing you anymore, but you think you might have a lifetime of Quinn doing it instead. Somehow that doesn't seem like the worst idea.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I reread Dauntless Matchmaker recently and I love it, could you please make another part? Either that or another part for One Hell of a Bellhop, Legal Compensation, or Mr Flavors Soda, any of the above would be great, your choice ^-^

Danny skips up the stairs towards Wayne Manor's front entrance with a binder, a few notebooks, and his laptop tucked away in his carry bag. Humming under his breath, he raises his hand to knock. Before he can touch the wood, the door swings open to the beaming face of his fake boyfriend, Tim Drake.

"Hi!" The other gasps breathlessly. He adjusts his cardigan from where it had fallen off his left shoulder. Danny has noticed something about Tim. He was always so nervous and clumsy. The poor thing was taking his heartbreak badly.

"Hi, Tim." Danny grins. He holds up his NASA theme bag with pride. "I brought the stuff!"

His boss' brother lets out a string of nervous chuckles that slowly dissolve, coughing when he chokes on his spit. Alarmed, Danny started smacking his back in hopes of helping. He wishes he could say this was a one-time thing, but Tim, unfortunately, does this often.

"Master Tim?" Alfred calls from down the left hallway.

"I'm fine! Everything-cough-hack- everything is fine!" Tim screams back, entirely red and looking a tad bit mortified. Clearing his throat, he straightens to full height, back pin straight and looking every bit the young gentleman of his standing. "Shall we move to the viewing room?"

Danny knows he's only trying to save face, so he only smiles and steps inside. As they had agreed on two weeks ago, Danny loops his arm through Tim's, pressing himself close to the other's side, just as Alfred walks by.

The aged man seems pleased to see them so affectionate, which Damian said Danny had to play up because otherwise, it would not be believable. Tim only dated men and women who showed their care through physical touch, and he was often seen holding hands or looping arms with his partners.

As it is, Tim does his part well, beaming up at Danny. He was taller after hitting a second growth spurt, but sadly, he seemed to take after his mother rather than his father. Danny was only two inches taller than Tim.

On the other hand, Jazz grew like a weed. Once it became apparent, she took after Jack in height. Dan's appearance gave Danny hope that he would break the six-foot mark in a few years—you know, if the madness and devouring Plasmius didn't affect his development too much.

"What are you showing me today?" Tim asks as they stride past Damian. The younger boy makes a face, the same one Danny made whenever Jazz brought over a boy, and they were being sickly sweet. He offers his boss a smile in return, watching those intense green eyes roll.

"I brought evidence of why Yetis' healthcare is far superior to ours." Danny pats his bag with a satisfied smirk. "Nothing beats Frostbite."

Tim melts. "That's amazing. I can't wait to hear all about it. Then we could go get dinner. How does Divine Palace sound?"

"The upscale restaurant? I would need to change before I'm allowed in there. It has a dress code, doesn't it?"

Tim snuggles closer. "You can borrow one of my suits."

"You know it's bad luck to wear someone else's clothes?" Danny tells him they have just arrived at the viewing room. The projector is set up, and Danny is waiting to plug in his laptop. A sizeable plush couch is pushed in front of the large empty wall, where Tim plans to curl up and watch Danny's presentation.

Meeting someone who adored all the educational information about Ghosts and their culture was lovely. Danny's parents were more interested in the aspects of biology and anatomy than the sociology and anthropology he studied.

After he finished his slide show—sadly without pictures as ghosts disrupted the camera—he would show Tim his notes, which the two could flip through together on the couch. Since his PowerPoint lacked images, Danny settled for some drawings and blurry photos he had stored in his binder while exploring the Zone.

He started it when he was fourteen, gradually growing over the years.

"Why's that?" Tim asks, throwing himself on the couch and crossing his legs underneath him. He places his elbow on the meat of his thigh and leans his head on his hand, his eyes never leaving Danny.

They seem to be shining, utterly captivated by the Halfa.

"It makes it easier for ghosts to overshadow you," Danny answers promptly, unzipping his bag to take out the materials from his bag. He had to look away from his friend because the way he was staring was making him a bit flustered.

"Overshadow?"

"It's another way of saying possession, but it's more politically correct." He responds, plugging in the wires to his laptop and watching the lock screen of his computer appear on the wall. "My sister's first boyfriend attempted to do that to her. Gave her some of his girlfriend's stuff so she could form around her and use Jazz as an anchor to stay on this plane."

"And you saved her before he could succeed," Tim sighs adoringly.

Danny puffs out his chest. "I did!"

Tim pressed a button on the side of his couch. At once, the thing expands, pushing the backrest down and expanding the bottom until it forms an even flat surface. Danny initially thought it was a recliner, but apparently, rich people had couches that could turn into beds in seconds.

He lays flat on his stomach, kicking his feet and leaning on both hands as he smiles like a loon at Danny. "That's amazing."

Danny bites his lip, trying to be modes,t but it's hard when he's being praised by someone like Tim Drake.

"Well, it's just what a good brother does. All I really had to do was use his bad luck against him, and really, Jazz sort of snapped out it when he tried to punch me," He babbles while scrambling to log into his account. He needs to do something before he bursts from all the giddy, mushy feeling in his chest. "It was nothing compared to when I had to win a pie-eating contest against Baker."

"Hmm?"

"Baker is a pasty theme ghost that is shockingly powerful. He locked me in a battle for five days before I convinced him to switch to a food theme contest." Danny laughs, shaking his head at the memories. "I was stuck in bed for a day with the biggest stomach ache, but I won that day. And victory was sweet."

Tim swoons.

Just as Danny is booting up the presentation, his superhearing catches the whispers of Tim's other siblings from the hallway. Damian had instructed him not to let anyone else in the household learn the truth of his contract because it would eventually get back to Alfred.

After meeting the man, he completely understands the paranoia.

"Who is that?" He's pretty sure that's the oldest Dick.

"Tim's new obsession." Answers Steph with a smirk in her words. "Apparently, he's some paranormal-obsessed conspiracy theorist."

"Why does he always go for the crazy ones?" Jason sighs dramatically.

"Have you seen Danny's biceps? Were it not for his health issues, I would have thought Tim found a secret off-duty hero."

Danny hastily focuses on his first slide, trying not to show his fear. Tim continues to watch him kick his feet and play with some of his hair. He has a habit of twirling his hair. Tim almost always does that whenever Danny sees him.

[batbusiness-schooldropout]

Bruce: I've prepared another training presentation-

*collective batkid groaning*

Bruce: -Because I've heard some of you praise Tim-

Tim: God forbid I have an ounce of positive feedback!

Bruce: - For some of the things he said while fighting Jason in Titan's Tower.

Tim: .....Ok in my defense! You never had one of these PowerPoint presentations for what to do if your predecessor comes back from the dead!

Jason: Yeah! Where are the slides telling us what to do if we're suffering from extreme pit madness!

Bruce: At the end of this presentation. May I continue?

*Collective Batkid grumbling*

Bruce: Good. When engaging someone affected by the Lazarus Pits, you should not say anything purposefully antagonistic. There is no such thing as "throwing them off their rhythm" or "making them make a mistake" in these instances.

Tim: Oh if only there had been a ridiculously comprehensive slideshow about what I should've done!!

Bruce: The more you interrupt me, the longer this will take. Since there is no reason to incite anger in a person already filled with murderous rage, there is no use for the following phrases; "That explains why you smell like a musty bitch". "I'm wearing my nicest Robin costume for you and you couldn't be bothered to clean the grave dirt from under your nails". "I'm a bad bitch, you can't kill me". "Hit me again, and I'll sleep with your mom"-

Dick: Tim, that last one was way out of line. Do not threaten to sleep with people's parents. You're not Selina. You can't get away with it

Jason: In TimTam's defense, if I was myself at the time, I would've been impressed by the sheer audacity of what he was saying. I definitely would've slipped up or just left him alone

[the-odd-shu]

Fluffy scenarios for clear skin

Another Lab Illustrator Reader installation!

Masterlist

Previous:

Characters: Jayce, Viktor, Gender Neutral Reader (Reader uses they/them pronouns)

Established: Jayce/Viktor/Reader (POLYCULLLEEE)

Reader to Jayce: Do you ever look at Viktor when he's thinking and want to kiss every inch of his face?

Jayce taking a slow sip from his hot drink: No. I think he would bite me if I tried.

Reader: Maybe. But whenever he pouts, his eyes go all thoughtful and distant, and I can hardly control myself.

Jayce: Please continue to control yourself. I don't want to have to write an accident report because you lost a nose.

Reader sighs again: Would you bite my nose off if I kissed every inch of your face instead?

Jayce no-rizz Talis then proceeds to choke and nearly perish on his drink.

In summary, Reader's partners sometimes give them cuteness aggression.

Just the image of Viktor doing that adorable pouting face, and Reader calmly setting down their pen, getting up, crossing over to Jayce's desk to get rid of their cuteness aggression via kisses on poor Jayce instead.

I kind of like the idea of them doing this instead of crowding Viktor when he's clearly trying to think. Whereas Jayce is just constantly on the look out for touch and validation, so it works out great for him. He melts under the attention, more than happy to put his notes aside for a moment in favour of a rather lovely excuse for a break.

They're quiet about it, but sometimes the movement will pull Viktor out of his musings regardless, and he'll just frown at the pair of them acting like idiots.

And if he insinuates he's feeling a little left out, you bet Reader is going to calmly drag him close and touch temples with him - a deeply personal Zaunite display of affection - which would have a whole new adorable expression appearing on Viktor's face and would send Reader IMMEDIATELY into going back to attack Jayce instead of smothering to poor, overwhelmed man.

In a similar vein of thinking, it would definitely be manadatory for Reader to give into it, just once.

Maybe Jayce is conveniently out of the room, and maybe Viktor is just RIGHT THERE, PLAINLY in sight. And maybe, just this once they SIMPLY CANNOT contain themselves. Viktor is right there and they're not getting any work done because they can't tear their eyes off him.

So they give in, and pepper Viktor's adorable pout with kisses. And the man is just BAFFLED! It takes him a moment to understand what is happening, and then he's letting out flustered strings of words in both his mother's tongue and Piltovern Common, and he's shoving them away by their cheeks.

Reader of course isn't deterred, and just ends up grabbing the hand to kiss his knuckles. Viktor glares down at them with a look of resignation and burning red ears.

Jayce comes in like: what did I miss.

Reader: Turns out he doesn't bite.

Viktor: Not yet. Don't tempt me.

Jayce is rewarded with a forehead touch for simply existing that time round - the significance is not lost on him and he feels touched.

Viktor's that choatic boyfriend that hears you complaining about a colleague one too many times, and then proceeds to inconvenience them in the most subtle and irritating way known to man, all whilst giving you a shit-eating little smirk as he sits back and watches the world burn.

"That fucker giving you trouble Darling? No worries, I stole all of his left socks and buried them in the staff room plant pot after hours."

"They said what about Jayce?" A beat of silence.

"Viktor?! Where are you going with that washing up liquid."

"Nowhere." Very obviously makes his way to the kitchen.

Said co-worker that was talking shit then begins complaining that every cup of coffee they make tastes like soap!

Someone talks shit about their partners:

Jayce 'can we talk about this' Talis: "here is a thirty page essay as to why you're wrong, and I have a PowerPoint slide prepared with additional evidence if you will please take a seat and allow me to reeducate you."

Viktor who will resort to psychological warfare to get his point across correcting them, whilst also blatantly gaslighting them into believing that Jayce and Reader can do no wrong, and they were in fact crazy for insinuating such cruel things about either of them to begin with.

Reader who stabs first with their artist-grade scalpel, and asks questions when they're incapacitated and bleeding out on their floor: "Say that again, to my face this time. Go on, I dare you."

(There is a reason why Jayce and Viktor ((the pacifists)) do not teach Reader how to use any of the hextech devices. They will commit murder and refuse to regret it whilst Jayce sweats bullets and Viktor stares on, mouth aghast by the sheer brutality of said murder).

"He deserved it," Reader will explain simply.

And Viktor will go, "perhaps, BUT YOU COULD HAVE LEFT HIS HEAD ATTACHED!"

Jayce who's trauma raises its head when his partners are cold. Blankets. Warm drinks. Heating on full blast. That snow storm did a number on him and he HATES the winter because of it.

Are you shivering? Is Viktor? No stress, he shall simply have to BECOME the blanket to keep you both alive and well. It is as sweet as it is heartbreaking.

Viktor who's upbringing in Zaun sometimes makes him precious with food. Not because he was starving, but because sometimes he couldn't have as much food as he wanted, simply because money was tight growing up.

Maybe he has a sweet treat, and ends up breaking it into threes to share with you and Jayce.

Maybe there's only one tea bag left, so he settles for water, despite having REALLY wanted that cup of warm tea.

Maybe he's waiting for seconds for dinner, but there's only enough left for two more portions, so he says he's not hungry anymore.

Viktor who will sometimes feel the gnaw of hunger but make a hot drink to soothe his stomach instead of actually eating something, because its only so far into the day, and if he doesn't eat now, then he won't be as hungry later-

Safe to say, his partners notice. And Jayce keeps the kitchenette well stocked with drinks and snacks alike, whilst Reader will stop by a bakery or cafe in the morning to bring him a proper breakfast, as well as breakfast for themselves and Jayce so he doesn't feel like he HAS to share.

[thebadboyfanclub]

We Don’t Have Time (Toto x Reader)

So as promised I told you I was suddenly inspired to write a Toto Wolff imagine, btw I do not condone the whole mistress thing but let’s be honest, it is a hot topic to write about. Also I was heavily inspired by this song and I hope you guys enjoy it!

To work with someone like (y/n) was a gift sent from above, a dedicated young woman who loved to be organised and held herself in such light, always composed, a good listener, and great at executing orders. In the early days, when she was hired in the Mercedes and racing team everyone doubted that a woman in her mid-20s would have the stamina and the guts to keep up with the big dogs.

She walked into the room with her heels and her smart casual outfit, her long hair loose but pulled away from her face, her piercing eyes scattering the room with a big smile on her lips, she won each one of her colleagues with her grant heart and her true spirit, whether she was making a tea for Lewis who had a bit of a cold

“My mother always told me, a little bit of lemon, a little Sprinkle of ginger and a spoonful of honey would even make the birds sing”

Or was pushing ideas to the team with a PowerPoint presentation, such confidence that was evident she had worked on this for days, everyone would call her name with a smile.

Toto was known for being close to everyone, he was there to lead every single one of the employees, he had put a lot of effort into keeping under wraps the soft spot he had developed for her, not only as an employee but as a…. Woman.

Her voice, her back curving as she leaned over the desk, how she winked at him when she made a joke, the sound of her heels clicking across the floor, oh, and that walk, his heart pounding as she showed up with those white button-ups.

He hated himself, Toto wanted to skin himself alive for even thinking this way, a man of integrity was having dreams of another woman whilst he slept next to his wife.

Susie was his rock, the woman he chose to marry, the perfect fit, the mother of his child, he had planned to marry a woman like her ever since he became an adult, now he had to go to the bathroom and splash water on his face because (y/n) leaned over him and he got a whiff of her perfume.

“Toto, I thought you wouldn’t show”

“No, I just got stuck in traffic”

A complete lie. Toto was just circling around over and over, battling himself as to whether it was right to come or not, it was George’s birthday, and had asked all of the team to come to his party, meaning that (y/n) was going to be there, it was already torture seeing her in her business attire, now she would definitely doll up.

“Happy birthday George”

“Thank you ma- (Y/N)!”

There it was, that excitement everyone used when they saw her, Toto clenched his jaw and took a sharp inhale through the nose as she appeared, the emerald-colored dress complimented her so much with her blown out hair falling perfectly, and her skin glistened under the dim lighting, she looked like an old Hollywood star.

“Happy birthday Georgie”

(y/n) wished after she hugged him tightly, Toto only glared at them as he took another sip of his drink.

How could she possibly be so perfect? She looked as tasty as a Turkish delight and Toto wanted to be the first one to take a bite.

Even though the room was crowded as she walked closer to them Toto could smell her perfume, she smelled like a vanilla cake, (y/n) was mouthwatering, he could recall how she explained to a coworker once how she likes to combine vanilla scents and in detail explained her shower and body care routine, at the time though all Toto was thinking was how she looked in a steamy shower.

“Thank you, love”

“Oh mister Wolff”

“Ah no, we are not at work anymore, he is Toto now”

Lewis appeared out of nowhere and interrupted her, well to be fair he could have been standing there this whole time and Toto wouldn’t have noticed, all he could focus on was how perilously low the neckline of her attire was, Toto only nodded before he took a sip of his whiskey.

“Old habits die hard I suppose”

She said with that smile, he wanted to slap himself, his mind was screaming to just leave but how could he? Especially after he saw Lewis snake his arm around her shoulders, making her blush.

“Are they together?”

Jealousy started to creep in his veins like poison, his eyes narrowing and getting lost in his thoughts, Lewis wouldn’t go for someone like her, no he definitely would, look at her! Beautiful, caring, alluring, intelligent, he would be dumb to not make a move.

“Right, Toto?”

“Huh? Sorry, I am not feeling good”

“What happened?”

Concern was dripping from her voice as (y/n) 's eyes were wide and shiny, resembling a deer, worry written all over her face. Oh she is making it so… DIFFICULT, he could not risk everything, he is not in high school and this is not a movie, he must power through this.

The trio stood there waiting for a response as Toto shook his head lightly and then brought his free hand to rub circles on his temples.

(Y/n) stood still as Lewis rubbed circles on her naked shoulder with his middle finger, she had to admit that Lewis was an attractive man and to have his kind of show some liking was a compliment on its own.

He was everything that (y/n) wanted on paper, attractive, smart, and most importantly… single, nothing was stopping her for allowing Lewis to pursue her, except the fact that she wasn’t completely interested in him.

“Nothing important, just a headache”

“You’ve gotten old man, the night is young”

“You are not that young yourself either, Lewis”

That came out more aggressive than Toto intended it to be, Lewis was taken aback while (y/n) raised an eyebrow. She had never seen Toto get snappy with the guys, of course, he had lost his temper during the race but this was uncalled for and completely out of character.

After that comment time stood still for a split second, all three of them had a different reaction, Toto just mentally prepared himself for the worst, he knew he was out of bounds but there was no way he was backing down.

“Woah man”

“Maybe you should go home” (y/n) snapped at him

“Why? Is my presence interrupting you from doing something?”

Toto shot back, his eyes narrowing, it looked like he was scolding her.

(y/n) was offended, she had taken a liking to him, she had been nothing but respectful towards Toto, she was genuinely excited to be invited to such an important day and party, she was having such a wonderful time until now until Toto made her realize that Lewis Hamilton was holding her close and how others could see it and probably gossip about it.

Though why would he care? Why would Toto Wolff the man who advised her to not listen to the background noise when she came in the team was now insinuating that he was part of that crowd?

“You know what? I’m glad I don’t have to call you Mister Wolff, cause Mister Wolff I know would not act like a complete dickhead in front of us”

“And the (y/n) I know would not-“

“What? Would not what?”

“Ah forget it”

Toto chugged his whiskey and then left the glass at a counter close to him.

Toto walked away with no fucking clue where he was going, he just pushed and shoved through the crowd and opened the first door he could find, he ended up in some kind of office and plopped himself on the leather chair, propping his arms as he hugged his head, his forehead touching the wooden desk in utter defeat.

How fucking dare she? (Y/n) must know exactly what she is doing, she can’t be that fucking oblivious, no she is an evil spider trying to lure him in, there’s no other explanation as to why he is acting insane.

“Fuck is your problem?”

He lightly jumped at the sudden voice, at a snap he raised his head and was met with an upset (y/n) that was glaring at him. Totolet out a dry chuckle, of course (y/n) would follow him, she could never let things go, stubbornness was part of her charm.

“Get out”

“No, you owe me an explanation”

“Since when do I owe you anything? You work for me”

“And that means you can talk to me like I’m beneath you? Last time I checked I’m not your slave, I’m an employee”

“No, you are a fucking pain that’s what you are”

“Why? If you didn’t want me here you could have just walked away”

Toto got up from his seat and (y/n) took a step back instinctively, she was sure he wasn’t going to hurt her but Toto seemed to be… flushed, her eyes fixated on him and now that she was wearing heels (y/n) was closer to his height but still shorter, towering over her his presence filled the room.

Toto however took a moment to notice other things, (y/n) 's chest rose and sunk from the rapid breathing because of anger, her lips pushed to a thin line and her arms crossed over her torso.

“That’s what you wanted? To leave the space for Lewis to take you home?”

“Take me home? Are you listening to yourself? And even if I left with him it is none of your business”

“Oh it is”

“Why?”

“Cause I wanted you first”

Suddenly the air was sucked out of the room, (y/n)s eyes widened as her arms fell to her side. The moment Toto realized what he had just confessed what he said he felt like his armor was stripped away from him, leaving him bare and unable to contain himself from the diving head first to the ocean that was his lust for her.

(Y/n) stood there as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, she felt like her body went numb after he uttered those words, a part of her wanted to run to him, hug him, touch him, let him do all the things that she was so embarrassed to even speak about, however she was just remained frozen, looking at him with a blank expression.

“I cannot stop thinking of you, day in and out, morning and night, you have haunted me, your body, your voice, your eyes… I have become a man that I made fun of, you are my Achilles heel, and while I fought with myself you think I’ll let Lewis claim you?”

“Toto”

“I am a man of honor, a professional, no one has anything to say about me, and one day you just show up, you walk around and ask me questions, talking and laughing like you are not making my life miserable because if I touch you I will through everything down the drain just for a kiss, all I can visualize is how I want to strip you down, I am pathetic because of you”

His voice was low, barely above a whisper, he had cornered her as her back was pressed against the door, they were gawking at each other, (y/n) but her lip as Toto growled all those things in her ear, his hands went up and as one supported him on the door the other found her cheek, his thumb slipping from the hot flesh down to her swollen bottom lip.

“You think it is not hard for me? That I haven’t… thought of it?”

(Y/n) mumbled, Toto was caught off guard at her response, all this time he thought he was alone in this, he had volunteered to put himself in the act of the wolf while he saw her a sheep, now (y/n) with one phrase shed the sheep skin and revealed her teeth, two carnivores waiting for the time to sink their teeth.

“You have?”

“Of course, I have, every day that I walked into your office alone, the times you have touched my shoulder to congratulate me, the times that you have lost your temper, the times I’ve seen you kiss-“

(Y/n) stopped herself when she felt a lump get stuck in her throat, everything that he did was an aphrodisiac for (y/n), though when Susie came around him (y/n) was like a tiger in a cage, making circles without being able to hunt. She swallowed dryly when she felt Toto's hands squeeze her shoulders pulling her back from her train of thoughts.

“Do you want me?do you want this as much as I…. I need it”

“Toto we cannot”

“We should not”

“I want you”

“Shit”

The second (y/n) confessed was the time Toto forgot everything, all that mattered now was her. Totos kiss was one of depravity and hunger, it was like he was trying to swallow her whole, his hands gripping and roaming everywhere as she hooked her one leg over his waist to bring him closer, she was already moaning as months of restrain was released in seconds, his touch left her with goosebumps.

He had imagined this moment again and again, about how he wanted to be graceful and gentle with her and now he acted like an animal, lifting her and sitting back in the chair, her hair tickling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck so she can be as close as humanly possible. It was similar to her skin being itchy and the only source of relief was him, Toto pulled down her dress exposing her breasts as he kissed her all over thanking whoever suggested that she should were something with such a deep leg slit.

“We don’t have time”

“I don’t care, I want to enjoy this”

He said as his hand gripped her neck, how breathtaking she was with lipstick smeared and hair sticking on her face, the lights coming from outside were all it needed, he wanted to desperately take a picture of her but he resorted to keeping this to his memory.

(Y/n) felt like this was an out-of-body experience, a man that she had admired, the man that had frustrated her so badly that she had lost nights of sleep, laying in her bed at odd hours of the night because of her bringing back how his muscles popped through his white button up on that day, his thick accent, the way he smiled at her and told her she did a good job.

Everything made (y/n) feel so shameful, she had taken pride in always doing the right thing, and she had never been the other woman, but now she was acting like a whore for a man she worked for, her body yelling and begging for more as he took off his shirt, she ran her hand caressing his torso down to his pants, her big eyes right at him as she tugged on his belt.

“I need you”

She mumbled before she kissed down his neck, both of them had lost themselves in this, they had bitten the same forbidden apple but the nectar of it was so sweet that they did not care about choking on its bite, maybe they would never get that chance again, maybe they wouldn’t even want it after this.

Sobering up could mean that they would both go back to their normality and since they have ticked that box they wouldn’t even need another time, or of course that they get addicted to the high, the ecstasy that pumped through them and consume them, blinding them as they reached for one another savoring every breath, every sound, every look, so now it was their moment to climb that mountain without worrying how they will get down.

“Look at you, so perfect”

Toto admired her as he laid her on the desk, her hair pooling next to her as she smiled sheepishly at the compliment, her tongue licked her upper lip and Toto took her right then and there, (y/n) made sounds that could make the devil blush.

Toto and (y/n) worked like they knew precisely what the other needed, a dance between two people who were slipping away from reality and onto a world full of sensuality and raw emotion, (y/n) saw stars clouding her vision from the pressure and Toto held her as tight as he could, worrying that his alarm could wake him any moment from what was another dream.

“Hush my dear, they could hear us”

He teased her but truly he did not hear, a side of him hoped that someone was listening in, someone would understand how no one could do what he did, and someone would be jealous of that beauty he had in front of him.

(Y/n) had left behind any type of moral she had, as she felt his hands caress her skin, his lips like satin, worshipping and going over her neck, cleavage, and face, his taste was perfect a mix of whiskey and mint, the grunt and cuss words that slipped as he bit her earlobe guided her to the end, as she erupted under him she clenched onto him like she was being held over a cliff, he breath hitched on her throat and she bit down his shoulder to prevent her from screaming loud enough to wake the neighbors.

“Oh my dear, you are so good”

“I feel dizzy”

“Me too”

He confessed as they stood still, neither of them wanted to move away. Suddenly (y/n) started chuckling to full-on laughing, Toto at first did not understand but later joined her in the laughing fit.

It was madness, in (y/n) did in her eyes and spirit was an abomination, a disgrace yet there she lay, hugging a man that could never be hers and giving in to her animalistic needs.

“You are better than I thought, I didn’t even know that was possible”

“Same goes for you young lady”

“I always loved it when you called me that”

She purred in his ear before Toto kissed her again, his hand went to her thigh and with his index finger caressed it all the way down to her ankle as they kept locking lips.

(Y/n) slightly shook at the sensation, making Toto wrap his fingers around her ankle and then back up from the back of the thigh to her bum.

(y/n) was in utter bliss as she took in his state, he was sweaty and out of breath, his body in contact with hers, and as her hands traveled up and down his back, her nails making traces as she could feel his muscles tensing, how could she give this up? How could she go back to normal when she knows how he feels when they become one? Instinctively at that thought her hips moved making him groan.

“No no no, we can’t risk taking any more time”

“Coward”

(Y/n) mocked him, Toto huffed out a breath as he listened to her giggle he comfortably laid his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. As they both struggled to find their breaths (y/n) wondered if people had started looking for them, though since it was already quite late maybe people were too drunk to notice.

“You will get me in so much trouble”

“Come on, after this we have to go back to me having to call you Mister Wolff”

“Which is the highlight of my day, I want to hear you scream it actually”

“That can be arranged”

Requests are open!

[nastasya--filippovna]

So I finally finished Rivals

so here's my review followed by my episode-by-episode, PowerPoint presentation, Danny Motta style reaction (which no one asked for)

⚠️so massive spoilers heads-up⚠️

WHAT A WATCH! for the first time in, well, forever I did not binge the show immediately after it came out. I gave it time. Watched one episode each day and I think I liked the experience! I remembered a lot more stuff that I do when I binge things. But that's not what I'm here to talk about. Pfft let'g get into it huh!

So I read the book like ages ago when the show was first announced and though I remembered some stuff from the plot, I mostly let myself be shocked by it. Would I have watched it if David Tennant wasn't in it. Hmmmm? Probably not!

I mean this show....ugh... man there's no one word to describe it, is there! It's not all romp and pomp although it may seem like it. The strangest part is that for a show that's dealing with some really dark matter it (for some darn reason) refuses to take itself seriously (as @davidtennantgenderenvy wonderfully put it). I mean one minute we're dealing with woman rights, the other Matador Ole is playing while Rupert and Cameron stare each other like that.

I think it's unfair that the media constantly limited the premise of the show to its sexual aspects. The story is a clear socio-political critique of the power politics, sexual politics, and elite culture of the time and it's still quite reflective of the same things in our time too. In fact, the very fact that it disguises itself as a period piece makes it all the more applicable to our time. While watching the show I felt as if each character represents a different segment of the upper class; like Antonio Gramsci said the capitalist class is not a unified group. We have Rupert who represent the political elite, the ones that come from powerful families and then we have Declan who's the intellectual elite, Tony who's one of those new-money business elite people who will never really fit into this cult, Fred the technology millionaires, and Monica who represents that fading, waning part of old British aristocracy that was all about decorum and honour and values and virtue, something that is no longer valued in all the new kinds of elites that are springing up.

It's a very turbulent time. We're on the brisk of turning the world into the way we have it now, pulling it out of another era that is now fading away.

Rupert.... um man! Alex Hassell should be banned from playing this character because he injects more charisma in it that he deserves. I almost started liking him. And it's weird to me that his character development is fine, it's great it's wonderful, he goes from a careless heartless scoundrel to a nice caring person. The only problem I have here is what he did to Taggie in the beginning. How can someone ever possibly expect a woman to forgive a man for s3xual abuse or harassment. That's like major rizz-killer. But his friendship with Lizzie was one of the things I really liked. Made him seem so much more human.

Talking of Lizzie. My girl. My favourite character. Although if I'm being honest EVERY single woman in the show was impeccable. Every one of them ten thousand times more complicated than any male character. We need more women written by women. Sarah looks like a dumb blonde but she's not. She's just a woman who's trying to make something of her life in this male dominated world. Cameron Cook. Absolute goddess. She's powerful. She knows what she wants and how to get it. We just don't have enough ambitious women in media portrayed as "good". Ambitious women are always shown as bitches. And she's not passive in regard to her sexuality. It's her weapon and she uses it with her full agency. Monica, what can I even say about her. Perfectly embodies the crumbling grace of old aristocratic families. Beautiful performance, beyond words. Maud. Oh boy. I lowkey hated her for a bit but her last scene was so amazing.

Aaaaaaand Tony. Tell you what they should NOT let David Tennant play bad people. 'Cause he's gonna do it so good it will give you nightmares for ages. I love that he is always in command of the kind of response he wants to elicit from the audience in regard to his character especially when playing an antagonist. I mean if we compare them, Des makes you feel like you're gaping at the fucking abyss, Tom Kendrick is just awful and scary like a bad father, Kilgrave is (like the character's personality) the kind of performance where you want to hate this person bcs you know they're awful but something about them is sucking you in and you hate that feeling but you can't stop it somehow (cz that's what Kilgarve does!). For Tony he knew what he was doing. He knows how to turn on maximum rizz and then turn it off. He reels in the viewer, making them think oh this is the most charismatic human being I have ever seen (just like Tony does to other characters) and then he strikes when you're in deep.

Another interesting bit about this character was how (esp in eps 7 and 8) there's bits where you think that maybe he's not altogether bad, that maybe there's a bit of kindness and love hiding there somewhere. But then you realise there isn't. All that tenderness is deliberate. He does it on purpose because it draws people in. He cannot love because he doesn't have it in him. Everything is, for him, about social status and winning. He doesn't love his wife. He doesn't love Cameron. He just wants to have them because she feels like he didn't have the things he deserved at some point so now he's gotta have everything. Like he says "just let me have this one"; it's all about winning. Heard someone call him a cartoon villain. Nope guys he's very real. Also the only time you feel like he's being genuine is when he's being a sopping wet pathetic mess in the end.

And he's also very relatable to some extent. I get that what he goes through. His insecurities and whatever complex he has. I do. I go to a university with rich kids from filthy rich families. My parent's parents weren't rich. They just made their fortunes in the last generation and even though I get to be in the same circles as these rich pricks, I feel always (or they make me feel) left out. Like I'm an imposter. Like I could never really have any real class. And that itches a very particular itch in my brain.

As an afterthought, I think you can measure men's personalities and worthiness in terms of DT characters: On a scale of Alec Hardy to Tony Baddingham what kind of man are You!"🫵

On the whole it was a great show. Lovely music. Loved the introduction of each character and how it just lets you know what kind of person this guy/gal/person is! Wonderful cinematography and visuals. Gripping sub-plots. An what an ending! Perfect cliffhanger. And tbh I'd really like it if they left it here. To me a good story doesn't always need to be resolved. There's something to be said for those little ambiguities and uncertainties in life and all the thigs left unsaid. [and if someone is really anxious they can go read the book] Remarkable watch. ★★★★★ (5/5)

And now the reaction!

(Tap for full picture and better quality)

Anyways, here's some memes I made while watching Rivals

Episode 5 Live Reaction:

[kaonarvna]

Every now and again, I remember that my disability (EDS) isn't invisible, actually. People are just uncomfortable when they can see it. People don't want to see it. People like to ignore it. Other people just stare at it, and don't even look at me. All they see is a pile of bones and fascia and something to pity.

I've worn a shoulder brace the past week, because it subluxed horribly a week or so ago. Still healing. Visible.

I always have compression sleeves on my arms, full coverage. Bicep to wrist. Visible.

I have soft braces and compression kit for every joint imaginable. Visible.

I'm covered in KT tape. I've worn it on my goddamn face after a jaw sublux, for that little extra support and proprioception help. Tape. On the face. Very visible.

The people I've worked with for years are used to it by now, the good ones, at least. They don't remark when I take a minute to stretch. They know I'll say something if I'm not okay. They know I'm in a constant state of variable dysfunction. They've seen enough, they're used to it.

But then there's people who aren't used to it. People who see me stretch on the ground, watch in discomfort, then they ask someone else if I'm okay. I can hear them quietly mutter it to other staff. I hear them go, "oh, he does that". I can see their discomfort with me (just existing as I need to exist). I can see the discomfort in these new people who aren't accustomed to bodies with slightly different needs, and it's a visceral reminder of being "other". I wonder, how terrible and scary and different I must be, for them to not even have the fortitude to ask me themselves.

And then there are the new people who see it and ask too many questions. The ones who go "but you're so young!" as though my connective tissue has a concept of social expectations for people under (arbitrary age). They go "but you look great!" as though I'm not covered in bruises and held together by tape (nevermind the implication that the disabled must look "bad"). They go "but you never call in!" as though I'm not often two seconds away from doing so, before the fear of losing my job sets in.

...and these are the ones who seem to wish not to see it the most. The ones who ask questions like I should be on display, and as soon as the conversation ends, so does my disability. They'll ask the same questions the next time, and the next time, and the next. It always ends with statements of pity, or something pity-adjacent. If I'm "lucky", they might even make an inappropriate comment about how I shouldn't be working, or sex must be "interesting", or act like I'm some eldritch horror that shouldn't exist.

And I'm reminded of the training I was once made to sit though. A ninety minute training, where you sit and watch the PowerPoint for ninety minutes in a too-small plastic chair, while someone reads the PowerPoint. The presenter started with a cute little "haha I know it's long, feel free to get up and walk around, or stretch".

I did.

I got up, walked myself to the side well out of the way of the tight chair lines, and laid down to stretch (a good spinal twist, loosen things up).

And she stopped the presentation.

She asked if there were any first-aiders present.

She was going to keep going on and on, until I heard someone say, "oh, he's fine, he does that." and a few "that's just (name), he does that". She started apologising profusely, waffling about how she thought there must have been a medical emergency, how people don't usually get up. She seemed baffled by the mere concept that someone would actually need to get up, and couldn't sit for ages. Her statement was entirely performative and insincere.

Today, after the day was effectively done, I laid down on the clean, carpeted floor in my classroom to just...be horizontal for a moment. Find some way, any way, to get my lower back to move and function and not feel like it was being clawed apart from the inside. Relieve myself a little, so I could finish the day without abject misery. And this very-new member of staff sat on the other side of the room, presumably watching me. When I got up, she asked very quietly, "Is something wrong with you?" and all I had the energy to say was "I'm fine". I'm tired of explaining my body. I'm tired of explaining my needs. I'm tired of justifying taking care of myself.

Someone recently told me "You're very brave. I think I'd rather die than live like you."

I didn't respond. I didn't have the energy to break down that she'd effectively told me I should die. I didn't have the energy to tell her that it's not bravery to live "like this".

It's my only option.

I know nothing else.

And I'm just tired. And hurting.

I'm grateful for the few good ones, the ones that are used to it. The people who have stopped asking me if I'm okay when I stretch, or need a little break, or get out the tape and scissors.

They know I'm not okay. That's why I'm on the ground. That's why I'm checking my range of motion, or feeling a joint, or holding pressure on a digit that's come undone. I'm not okay, and I'm trying not to get even worse.

I'm not okay, actually. I'm never okay, and that's fine. I'll never be your version of "okay", and that's fine. I've no choice. Thank you for knowing that I'm not okay, but that that's normal, and that if something was seriously, horribly wrong, I'd do something. Thank you, for just going about your business and talking to me as normal when I'm taking care of myself, instead of sprinkling eggshells on the ground for your own personal crunching.

I'm just tired. I'm visibly disabled if you look for ten goddamn seconds. I'm a person if you look for twenty. I'm a fetish if you just keep staring and staring and asking about my body like you're entitled to my flesh. I just want to sleep for more than two hours without my body waking itself up to remind me it hurts. I'm so tired.

[radioisntdead]

idea: A Vox who joined the Hotel to ~~win Alastor over and be with him romantically~~ get redeemed, and disregards Reader who is friends with Alastor because they’re a powerless sinner that’s like Charlie, only when he’s about to confess to Alastor, he finds them alone in a room lovey dovey.

of course, don’t feel pressured to do this, but i thought this was a funny ~~but sad for Vox~~ idea. Have a good day, my fellow Hazbin Hotel enjoyer!

Good evening my dear! I had so much fun with this request I do hope you enjoy!

Stupid tv

Alastor x reader, Radiosilence

Song used

Vox had been pinning over Alastor for several decades now, unrequited love that costed him their friendship, a love that was obsessive and far from understanding, a love that he thought he was owed.

And so he decided to join that pathetic little hotel that Alastor was involved in with Lucifer's little princess under the guise of wanting to 'redeem himself' but in all reality his plan was to win Alastor over, seduce him into falling head over hooves in love with him and together they'd rule the media, TV and radio? The perfect team wouldn't you agree?

Unfortunately there was one obstacle, a thorn in his side, a real annoyance.

You.

Honesty he was somewhat convinced that you and little miss delusional were related only to find out that you were just another worthless little sinner that for SOME reason kept close to Alastor, honestly it was a wonder the radio demon hadn't shoo'd you away, he chopped it up to not wanting to rock the ship with miss redemption hotel.

Am I a toy to you, my love?

Just a thing to play and

Then throw away

Vox did what he could to get into Alastor's rather tightly closed heart, but each time he was shut down.

"Alastor Ahaha, We should-" "I must decline I have prior commitments." He didn't even let him finish his sentence! Just shut him down before walking off to lace his arm through yours!

He didn't even participate in the hotels stupid activities, which he was G R E A T at by the way, he always won at the trust falls or the art therapy.

Doesn't matter what Vaggie said about it not being a competition, he was WINNING.

Vox was extremely irritated when he asked the princess on where was Alastor during on if their activities, the alcoholic cat in the hat and one eyed McGee had to participate so why wasn't he there?!

Only to hear that Alastor rarely participated in them.

He really shouldn't have been surprised about that.

I never asked for this

I always did my best

Without your love, I am a broken mess

On the other side it was the end of a heart aching, horror movie coded, extremely slow slow burn between you and Alastor.

A couple of months before Vox waltzed on in trying to win Alastor's favor, well, you took a couple shots of whiskey and chugged then down before drunkenly creating a PowerPoint presentation on how you felt about him, passing out only to be found by the radio demon himself.

It was a rather embarrassing confession but it got you and Alastor going out at least!

Alastor was never one for public displays of affection, the most you got was arms interlocked or a kiss on the hand.

And you didn't mind, It was sweeter when he would gingerly hold your hand, or place a kiss on your face, or be used as a chew toy because for some unholy reason he liked to bite.

Ooh now I'm never enough

Ooh and it's almost too much

Ooh for me to work, I need a human's touch

You'd admit you found Vox's attempts on gaining Alastor's heart hilarious! For someone who prided himself on knowing everyone's business he didn't even know that the man he was pinning over's heart already belonged to another.

You wondered how long it would take for him to realize that he had no chance, and you wondered what his reaction would be, you hoped that he wouldn't take his anger out on you, the one who held Alastor's heart in their powerless hands.

I'm just a toy to you, my love

Just a thing to play and

Then throw away

It actually took Mister 'Trust in us, Voxtech' a while to figure it out, after he was trying to find Alastor.

And it wasn't even on purpose he found out because Niffty was cleaning the halls and accidentally rammed into the door of the radio station cracking it ever so slightly.

Just enough to let the 1920's music leak out catching the attention of the TV man.

His hands darted to his bowtie, straightening it out before making sure he looked presentable.

He took a step ready to knock on the door before catching the glimpse of Alastor and you dancing rather closely together.

Honestly it would've been nothing to him, he had seen him dancing with Rosie or whatever her name was, Mitski? Mindy? Oh, Mimzy, Before.

But the way he was looking at you.

I need a human's touch, but

You don't need me

It was the way Vox had always wished Alastor would look at him.

I need a human's touch, but

I'm obsolete

How did you manage to get him to look at you like that? What did you have that he didn't?

He was an overlord, he owned the BIGGEST tech company in hell, he was on par with Alastor, and yet?

You an ordinary sinner, who didn't have much to offer, had won his heart.

This was unfair, it was unfair.

UNFAIR UNFAIR UNFAIR UNFAIR UNFAIR UNFAIR

UNFAIR UNFAIR UNFA҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉

҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉ ҉U҉N҉F҉A҉I҉R҉

We were still going strong

I never did you wrong

He HAD KNOWN ALASTOR LONGER THEN YOU, HE WAS BETTER THEN YOU IN SO MANY WAYS.

Until the new me came along

Ooh it was just you and me

Cold blue screening anger ran throughout Vox, messing with the hotels electricals, lights flickered, bulbs blew out and phones glitched out.

Catching the attention of not only you and Alastor but everyone else.

"Vox! What the fuck?!" Vaggie could be heard yelling from below.

Ooh we were such a good team

Now I'm alone on the boulevard of broken screens

Vox snapped briefly out of his anger as he heard footsteps approach the door, whether it was you or Alastor he didn't stay around to find out.

With a snap of his fingers he was gone into some device and the hotels electricity was back to normal.

Just a thing to play and

Then throw away

Vox appeared in his own hotel room, the room cold and shark themed, Vark raised his head as Vox plopped himself on the bed, his flat TV head perfectly flat on the bed.

I need a human's touch, but

You don't need me

I need a human's touch, but

I'm obsolete

Vark nudged him with his paw trying to get his attention, "Not now Vark," he said muffled ever so slightly muffled as he was still screen first into the bed.

Vark just laid beside him as Vox rebooted.

I need a human's touch, but

You don't need me

It was hours before Vox had appeared again, just in time for another one of Charlie's activities, some type of stage play, you were separated from the rest, watching from the bar as you sipped whatever drink was in your hand.

Alastor was nowhere to be seen, which Vox took the opportunity to sit next you and watch the hotel residents make a fool of themselves.

You didn't take notice of Vox until he spoke up,

"You know, I really don't get it,"

You looked at him like he was stupid for a second before speaking, "The show? It's not really that complicated it's the-" "No, what? I meant you and Alastor!"

"Oh, I was wondering when you were going to figure it out," you took a sip of your drink as he stared at you, "How? Why you? Why not me? What do you have that I don't??" He asked claws digging into the bottom of his seat, piercing the leather.

"Honesty Vox?" He stared at you intently, what was it? How could he acquire it?

I need a human's touch, but

"I don't know, he just loves me for some reason, and I love him."

I'm obsolete

He just, loves you for some reason? That's all?

What kinda cheesey answer was that??

He opened his screen mouth to say something but was interrupted by clapping, the little stage show had ended.

"Bravo Angel, Husk!" Charlie said wiping a tear from her face "That was great!"

You got up from your seat to join the congratulating leaving Vox alone at the bar.

I need a human's touch

I need a human's touch

I need a human's touch

I need a human's touch

The door slammed as Vox powerwalked into the Vee's tower, "I take it your plans to win over the radio demon failed?" Velvette asked not looking up from her phone, "Shut up."

Good evenin' folks! I heard this song thanks to an OC animatic and it just IMMEDIATELY FIT THIS fic!

Also as of posting I'm about to go to a pumpkin patch, expect pictures of my pumpkin, and a pumpkin fic because PUMPKINS, also I edited near my extended family and I'm posting while right next to my mother, I would WIN at fanfiction extreme sports

I do hope you enjoyed and as always thank you for tunin' on in!

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Sorry I like my men toxic and nobody can convince me that Tseng would give you a fully healthy relationship. He’s just not the worst guy you could date. So here are some of Tseng’s toxic habits. I wish we could post powerpoint slides. Like I guess NSFW for my choice of words. Edit: Okay I’ve typed more. It’s NSFW, it wasn’t that when it was just scattered notes i swear. granted, this is still scattered notes

Forgiveness?

Tseng. The man you forgive a million times because someone like him is so hard to come by. Even if you’re a person who doesn’t tolerate bullshit. You know that it would be impossible to find anyone nearly as good as him despite his mistakes. Tseng knows this too, taking advantage of your level of comfort in him. The connection between the two of you so deep there wasn’t a possibility you could view life without him. Tseng creates soul bonds with his significant other, he has to have all of you fully invested in him. You would also want for absolutely nothing, he can provide everything you could ever want so you can focus on the future you want to build for yourself. Whether it’s school, art, creating your own business, etc. Tseng is there to guarantee everything goes according to plan if it’s financially or if he has to pull a few strings. Seeks out people who would be reluctant to replace him but aren’t very co-dependent. If you manage to leave Tseng, say good riddance to developing any new relationships. He’s either going to make any of your new significant others vanish. If it’s someone he can’t kill, he’ll find a way to scare them away from you or find a way to put them in prison. 

My alternative reasoning as to why all of your other relationships would fail? The dick of course. Yes. The unbelievable wee wee. There’s not a soul in the world that would be able to learn your body the way he does. Have you ever heard of people being nearly ready to pass away because they lost their dick? Well if you haven’t, you have now. Even thinking of him fucking someone else the way he does with you is enough to make you want to vomit. That shit will have you sliding down the wall crying. You can try all you like to fuck someone else, it won’t compare. The way he touches you immediately sends electricity down your spine. It’s all in the way he knows how to touch you. Where to touch you. A subtle brush of his fingers along the small of your back while you’re riding him. An almost tickling sensation that causes you to press yourself against him as he leans up to kiss the most sensitive parts of your neck. How about when all he needs to do is look into your eyes and knows exactly how you want to be fucked? You can’t think of a time you had to ask him to do anything, your minds were seemingly in perfect sync. Always so so willing to please you. “So you wanna fuck other people huh?” He whispers in your ear mockingly while driving his cock deeper into you. Your knees pressed against your chest, legs hooked in Tseng’s arms as he ensures you won’t slip out of your position. No, you really don’t, not when he’s reminding you of what you’ll be missing. You’ll be calling him the next day for more, innocently asking for him to come over to “talk”. There won’t be much talking, just Tseng bending you over the kitchen table. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks himself into you so deeply, ignoring the way your hands push against his abdomen in a half-hearted attempt to slow his tempo down. 

There aren’t many people in this world that would be nearly as attentive as he is. The way he can easily tell all of your needs within moments of talking to you. Reads you like a book and it can’t help but make your heart flip, cause like, ‘who sent this man?’ and why does he know all of your emotional needs and exactly how to take care of them? Tseng carries aspects of his job along with his relationships. The same way he gets to know his enemies closely, he’ll do the same to you. Memorizes all of your sayings, even can predict what your response would be to most questions or statements. It’s almost more eerie than heart warming. With this comes the ability to manipulate you endlessly. Gaslighting has never been easier honestly. Lying to you about anything or forcing you to agree with his point of view would be child’s play. The way he carries himself during an argument, so well composed, rarely letting his emotions control him paired with the way he effectively strings his words together to soothe you. His calmness will make you question why you’re even so worked up. Tseng isn’t, so why are you? Tseng makes you see everything through rose colored lenses, and despite your aching heart when he hurts you, Tseng could never be wrong in your eyes. He only does what’s best for you. 

Gaslighting? Probably.

Truly remembers every word you’ve said to him and will use it against you. This goes back into my last little paragraph but deeper? Uses traumatic things from your past so you can believe that maybe your emotions, in regards to something Tseng has done wrong, are nothing more than misguided reactions. Will have you think that maybe you’re projecting your fears from past experiences onto him when you challenge him or try to hold him accountable for any wrongdoings. Certainly will guilt trip you knowing exactly what makes you feel like you’re the biggest piece of shit in the world. He doesn’t have to do anything outrageous. It’s the way Tseng subtly changes his body language. Slumping his shoulders just a bit, the way his brow furrows at your words or actions, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor like a scolded child. To put the cherry on top, it’s the ever so slight change in his tone of voice. The wavering in his tone as he speaks softly, not too soft for it to sound out of the ordinary, but enough for you to believe you’ve hurt his feelings. Usually resulting in you coddling him, now you’re the one apologizing because you “never meant to make him feel bad” even if it’s because you were grilling him for something as major as fucking his boss behind your back. Believing that it must be your fault if he’s off sleeping with others. Master manipulator for sure. He’s good at lying, like we see what he does for a living.

Like to make you cry because he's the only one that can also make you better. At times he’ll do this just to make sure he’s got complete control over you still. Wrapping his arms around you in such a calming way, his warmth and sweet words coaxing you to relax against him so he could “make it all better again.” More makeup sex. Somehow gets a kick out of cheering you back up. One minute you were sobbing because his words were a little too cruel and now you’re sobbing because he won’t stop fucking you so good. Tseng has a way he likes to position you in times like this. Having you lay on your stomach, your back arched just enough for his hips to flush against your ass as he completely sheaths himself in you, whispering in your ear asking “you still love me, right?” Christ, he has a way of making himself emotionally needy at just the right times. You can’t help but whimper, whine, and eventually choke out, through your moans, your appreciation, love, and devotion to him. Always ends with him cuming in you, some aftercare, then holding you in his arms for a majority of the night unless work calls him away.

Sometimes-y af?

He can pick and choose when he wants to pick up your relationship or not but you cannot do the same to him. Loves someone who he can come and go as he pleases with. You're so stupid and willing. Loyal to a fault, though the only person it’s negatively affecting is you. There isn’t a time you’ve turned him away thus far. Constantly taking him into your arms, babying him as though he’s some angel despite you knowing he isn’t. Tseng’s just managed to get you to the point you couldn't care less about his deceptive ways. You just want him by your side, no matter what the circumstances may be. The entire world can see the invisible leash and collar Tseng has put on you, yet you manage to stay blind to it all. You’ll wait like the good little puppy he’s molded you into. 

It’s a wonder he can be such a gentleman and a conniving son of a bitch. The kind to end an argument by demanding to be left alone but will ask “what you're doing tonight” a few hours later---he's going to fuck you—giving you a reason to keep accepting him back into your loving arms. He knows you’re a gift from the Goddess but he can’t help that he likes being toxic at times. It’s why he treats you so well and the sex is so unbelievably good. He needs to cement himself into your soul so he can continuously get away with everything, so things can continue to go exactly as he wants it to. Tseng prefers a life with you that has no consequences. For him. You, however, have to deal with punishment if you dare treat him in a similar manner to his treatment of you. Will show his displeasure with hurtful words and by neglecting you. If that doesn’t have the desired effects he’s willing to scare you into submission. Once again, nothing too outrageous that he would do. Tseng might just choke you a bit, push you against a wall, or if you try to run he’ll hold you against him tightly. Whispering into your ear about making you disappear if he can’t have you the way he wants you. Telling you how he does so much for you and he at the very least deserves you on your best behavior at all times or else he might just have to break that pretty neck of yours. Isn’t too big on yelling, he can get his point across just fine without having to do so.

Stalker? Obviously.

Tseng has trackers in your cars, phone, and bags. It doesn’t matter where you go, he’s going to find you. He’s definitely followed you from location to location, making sure you were doing what you said you would be. Sure he’s always been able to track you, but that isn’t the same as seeing you. You could be doing anything in the areas you claimed to be in. Tseng is even familiar with the faces of employees of each store you frequent. Has tracked down every family member and friend of yours, performing thorough background checks on all of them. Even closely looking after some of the people closest to you. Tseng has to approve of the people you hang around of course, he won’t tolerate anything that he feels is a negative influence and will force them out of your life. Tseng will sit outside of your house for hours after leaving, wondering if someone will come over. If he knows someone is coming over he’s got your home mic’d. Listening to all of your conversations, evading your most private conversations. Hates to hear when you vent about him, makes it hard to come back to you and act nice when in reality he wants to correct you for telling his business to your friends and family. Doesn’t mind when you’re speaking highly of him though, you help boost his ego most of the time. Getting space from Tseng is impossible. Your attempts to drive around and find a nice parking spot are all for nothing. He’s following right behind you. Is definitely going to block you in with his own car, angrily getting out of his own. Once he made you leave your car where it was entirely. Pissed that you would try to get away from him at all, it doesn’t matter if it’s just for a few hours. Pushing you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back home all while yelling about how stupid you were and that you would always come back begging for him. 

He was always right about that. Nothing would stop you from wanting Tseng back if he finally decided he was done. A relationship with Tseng is either on his terms or very much a “till death do us part” 

[replaycamera2]

What Your Fave Redacted Character Says About You

Davey - You value a lot of things in a man: the most important being his ability to snap you in half.

Asher - You are the annoying younger sibling who is completely aware of exactly how much they can get away with via years of experience.

Milo - When people ask you what your hobbies are you say “reading” but the silent part of that answer is “fanfiction”

Vincent - I could go on for hours about all the parasocial relationships you’ve had in your life.

Sam - You’re rapidly running out of things other than yourself to blame for your problems, and honestly, it’s just a cry for help at this point.

Lasko - The people in your life have learned not to use the turn of phrase, “What’s the worst that could happen?” Because you will immediately launch into a 20 minute PowerPoint presentation with cited sources on exactly everything that could possibly go wrong.

Damien - Your parents were PTA terrorists. They were planning your bid for student council president while you were still in the womb.

Hux - For the people who think other people are always flirting with them or buttering them up, but they’re honestly just being nice and you never really learned how appropriately reciprocate that because life has taught you that everyone is always after something.

Gavin - God gave you depression and anxiety because if he didn’t, you’d be competing for his job

Avior - You’re either a burned out “gifted kid” or you only just got diagnosed with ADHD in your mid 20s. No in between.

Vega - Dear god do you love to be stepped on

Blake - You can not fix him. YOU CAN NOT FIX HIM.

Elliott - The ultimate fantasy of every demi-sexual out there.

Aaron - Depends: if you’re a straight woman, this is just everyone’s daddy fantasy. Otherwise, you’re a white gay guy. Only they would see a 1-to-1 recreation of their bully and go, “That is my husband.”

Ivan - I’m not saying you’re scary when you’re mad, I’m just saying the Venn diagram of people who have crossed you and the people you never hear from again is a circle

James - Admit it, you find degradation just a little bit hot. Just give in and go for it, it’ll be cathartic, trust me.

Anton - Literally that meme of “Thank you for changing my life.” “I’m literally a white man from Arizona mumbling and mouth-breathing into a mic.”

Geordi - “Patience of a saint” and “persistence of a rock” do not even begin to describe you. We have had nothing but radio silence from this man for 7 months.

Regulus - You just want someone to end your existence without actually killing you and honestly, valid take.

Guy - Your insecurities might scream at every person you meet, but not if you scream louder

Ollie - Your life moves from one disaster to the next and you are desperate for a shred of stability, which is probably why you’re listening to boyfriend role-play.

Morgan - There are two kinds of people in this fandom: Those who know what “19 months” means, and those who don’t.

[theunfortunateplace]

"I was thinking about a neteyam x fem!human!reader. Reader is a short girl, maybe 4'11 (1.48) and Neteyam takes advantage of it and corners her to the wall..."

This was my request. Sory for misunderstanding

oblivious

Paring: Neteyam X Fem!Human!Reader

aged up Neteyam(26) Reader(22)

Word count: 5K

Synopsis: You’ve been sent to Pandora as a researcher. Constantly having your head in the books, swabbing cultures, and learning more about the world you’ve been sent to. Grace would occasionally mention the different Na'vi, but you had no clue who anyone was. Little did you know someone had been watching you this whole time. 

word bank: Lawr=melody

Warnings: no use of Y/N, smut, Dom!Netyam, semi-oblivious reader, size kink, teasing, slightly possessive Neteyam, P in V, cock warming, creampie, breeding kink, hair pulling, male receiving oral, 

a/n- This definitely took longer than I thought it would, but I finally got it done. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy.

“Can you get that for me?” You asked while letting out a sigh accepting your defeat. Grace raised her brow and shook her head. “You know there should be some sort of high requirement for these job positions.” You playfully rolled your eyes and took the stack of books from her. “If they did that it would be discrimination! And thank you.” 

“Mhm, you’re welcome.” She started walking away but turned back on her heels. “Oh, Neteyam and Lo’ak are stopping by.”  You placed the books next to the microscope, looking up with a confused face. 

Grace scuffed. “Do I need to make a damn PowerPoint for you? Come on quark!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname she gave you. It was the name used once protons and neutrons are broken down. Making them the smallest particles. 

“Are they the ones that come in here with spider?” She nodded her head and lit her cigarette.  You weren’t too familiar with the Na'vi… You tried to speak the language but only managed to grasp a couple of words, phrases, and some sentences if you were lucky. 

But most of the time when the men came through you just minded your business and stayed to yourself. 

“Yes with Spider… seems like he’s the only one you remember?” 

“Weeell he’s the only one who’s here often.” She shook her head “What are they stopping by for?” 

“Not sure. Anyway, I’ll be in the village.” 

You’ve seen pictures from when Grace was in her human form but that was many years before. She talked about the war many times and it still shocks you how she survived….how anyone survived. 

You nodded my head and started pulling out the necessary agar dishes and instruments for culture dishes

Many scientists passed by not paying you any mind. It wasn't until you heard Norm logging on his tape recorder that you finally looked up from the microscope.  He noticed he was looking and waved while finishing up.  “Hey, how’s it going Quark?” You let out a sigh making him chuckle.  “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you have to admit the name catches on fast.” 

‘At least it wasn’t an insulting name I’ll give Grace that’ you thought. “Yeah yeah yeah. I heard Spider and his f-

“ NORM! What’s going on!” You turned your head quickly hearing his loud voice bounce off the walls of the lab.  “Never mind it seems they have arrived.” You said 

Spider looked at you and instantly ran almost tackling you! “Umph… dude, we talked about this! I’m not a damn target stop tackling me like I’m a runaway!” 

“Shit- I’m sorry” he pulled away and fixed your hair…. Well, I attempted to fix it. You swatted his hand away and properly fixed it. The other scientist always would comment how you two were meant to be siblings with how you interacted with each other. The two Na'vi men were in the back watching the whole thing. 

“Spider is that your girlfriend? You sure ran to her like she was.” 

Spider spun around and gave the slightly shorter one the finger while the tallest one watched the two banter….until you felt his eyes on you. Your breath hitched causing a smirk to appear on his. You watched as he looked away and walked towards Norm. 

“Oel ngati kameie olo'eyktan.” Norm said while bringing his hand up to his forehead and extending it. This was a common greeting they used but of course, you struggled with it.  The really tall one returned the gesture and began speaking the language you struggled with the most. 

“What’s this you’re working on?” Spider asked causing you to jump. You’d been so caught up in staring at the man you forgot the name of to notice Spider was next to you along with the other man. “Shit! Spider, you have to stop doing that!” You clutched your chest and let out a huff of air. “And it’s swabs from the animals on Pandora…then once they are incubated properly I’ll be able to see the different bacteria that live on them.

The pair chuckled. “He didn’t do anything you were distracted by my brother.” You raised a brow and looked back between the one talking to Norm and the one standing next to you. 

You hummed and nodded your head. “ I see the resemblance.” 

He scoffed and shook his head while fiddling with the various books on your table. “Resemblance my ass! You’ve met us about a dozen times yet forget what we look like and our names.” 

You huffed and placed your hands on your hips. “Well, I’m sorry smart ass I have things to do and complicated names that I have to remember for reports…..and I do remember now you’re Lo’ak you always come in here and talk rather loudly if you ask me.” 

He scoffed and knitted his brows together mimicking your hand placement. “ I do not talk loudly you should see a doctor if your ears are sensitive you mouse.” You gasped and picked up one of the books getting ready to throw one at his head. 

“Oh, so you want to throw insults at my height?” 

His eyes widened “ n-no no that no-“

“Listen here you damn giant take another jab at my height and I’ll make sure to knock some inches off of you!”  You went to go throw the book as his mouth opened again but you were stopped by a large hand. You looked up to see the man called Neteyam smirking down at you. 

“Looks like you got yourself in some trouble brother.” He let out a deep chuckle sending chills down your back. The Na’vi accent was very thick on his tongue but you understood him clearly. Neteyam looked down at you again and let your hand go. You slowly let your hand drop and he smiled. 

“ I’m sorry Lawr, my brother tends to make trouble everywhere we go.” He said softly while squatting down. I took a step back surprised by how close he was. “Allow me to make it up to you…. I’m hosting a party well it’s more of a celebration for a hunt we had earlier this morning.” 

‘A celebration? How…what would I even wear’ you thought. “ I-I well I don’t really-“ 

“Bro look at her she can’t even speak properly,” Lo’ak said. You knitted your brows together gripping the book, and swiftly threw it at his head. Of course, he didn’t see the coming so it got him right above his eyebrow. 

Lo’ak let out a loud yelp and held the injured area. “ I have several more books if you want to keep talking ass hat!” Everyone started laughing and I turned back to Neteyam. 

“ I’ll take you up on that invitation thank you… Is there anything I should wear?” He smiled giving you a once-over. 

“You can come as you are or you can wear something nice, but I think you look beautiful as is.”  He smiled, making the heat rise to your cheeks. “Gosh ha-well I’ll wear something nice. It’s a celebration I don’t want to look raggedy.” 

I let out a small chuckle and sat back on my chair causing him to do another once over. He smirked before my attention turned back to Spider. 

“So no candy?” Spider chuckled and dug into his pouch. “If I didn’t bring any I’m sure you would have thrown a book at me.”  You playfully rolled your eyes as he placed the candy in the drawer on your research table away from your swabbing one. “No that’s only for people who have smart mouths.” You said taking a jab at Lo’ak who was still rubbing his forehead.  You heard Neteyam chuckle as he stood up. 

“Well, I will leave you to your work. I have duties to tend to until later….I’ll see you then lawr.”  You bit your lip subtly noticing his eyes not leaving you. He smiled before walking away.  You felt a little jab to your arm and it was Spider. You looked over to him and shook your head as he winked and wiggled his brows. 

“Will you stop? Now go, I’m sure Kiri needs help with something!”  Lo’ak gasped bringing your attention to him.  “So you remember my sister's name but not mine!” You laughed as you pulled out more agar dishes for swabbing. “Yes, because she is nice and I enjoy when she comes in!” It was the truth. Kiri truly was nice to have around and occasionally would bring little snacks. Most of the stuff on Pandora you couldn’t eat but some stuff you could. 

“You’re ridiculous you know that right? Am I not nice to have around?” You looked up at him and got up from your chair, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for throwing the book at him. You went into the first aid freezer and grabbed one of the ice bags. 

You walked back over and handed it to him. “Here… and yes sometimes when I don’t have work to get done and you're not being loud.” He hesitantly took it and muttered a thank you before putting the ice on his brow. 

“Hm, maybe I’ll consider being quieter…or maybe you can take a break from work and come back with us.” 

You hummed while sitting back on your stool. “ I’ll think about it.” Is all you said he accepted the answer and nodded his head. They said their final goodbyes and you finally could go back to work…well at least you tried to but all you could think of was how intense Neteyam's gaze was.

-

After many hours of working you finally made your way back to your room to get ready for this ‘celebration'. This was the first time in months you’d gone to any sort of party so you were going to go all out and by all out it meant putting on some lipstick and mascara. You let your hair drop to your shoulders from its previous hairstyle so there was no need to spend unnecessary time with that. Especially when it was already curly.

“Maybe this is too much?” You said while looking in the mirror adjusting your outfit. You settled on a hip-hugging long skirt and the matching tube crop top that was practically a bra on you. Maybe it was too much especially with you putting your belly piercing back in. Maybe it was too much or maybe you were being super self-conscious knowing Neteyam would see you. 

You bit your lip and shook the unwanted thoughts from your head. “No! I haven’t been out of the lab in months I’m going as is!” You turned off the light and marched out of your room, only to be followed by a loud whistle from Norm who was now in his avatar form. 

You looked up and shook your head. “What are you doing here?” He chuckled and gestured for me to start walking. 

“ Neteyam insisted I be here to walk you to the village and sent his apologies for not being here instead.” You looked up shocked by what he just said but only nodded your head and hummed in response. ‘Hm he’s a gentleman I see.’ You thought 

“Also I’m sure I don’t have to give you the talk… but it’s best you don’t… how do I put this? Lo’ak tends to mess around so just a heads up.” You let out a loud laugh and shook your head. 

“That’s hilarious that you think I would even let him try something. I’m sure he got the message earlier today.” Norm chuckled and ducked as he walked out the building. 

In the past exopacks were needed for humans to breathe but after the war Grace and some of the other scientists developed a shot that would make it possible for you to breathe Pandora's air. That’s not your specialty so you had no clue how they did it but it was cool. 

With norms help it wasn’t a far walk and the music could be heard for a distance you’ve never been to one of these events before. A smile

 appeared on your face seeing grace in the distance dancing with other people. A sight you’ve never seen before. 

Kiri spotted you and instantly walked over with a wide smile on her face. “You made it! You look fantastic.” You did a little dance while turning around showing her your whole outfit.  “Come come let’s dance we can’t let this outfit go to waste!” 

Your eyes widened ‘Dance?’ You thought. You had no clue how to do their dances much less if they would look good on you. “ I-“. Kiri chuckled and leaned down to gently push you to the dance floor. “ I’ll show you now, stop worrying.” 

You looked around seeing couples dancing rather sensually. You hadn’t realized the music changed… and of course, you’d danced to similar music but it was nothing like this. You took a deep breath and followed Kiri’s lead and once you got comfortable you followed and put your own twist on it.  

You lost track of time with how many drinks you consumed and the music flowing through your body. You didn’t notice Neteyam watching you all night. But anyone who he conversed with sure noticed how his attention was elsewhere. 

It wasn’t until you managed to wander off that you were taken away by the various glowing flora. “Gosh, I should have brought my kit. I have to come back out here and get samples.”  You said admiring the plants, letting a gasp out seeing a strange animal fly up from below. 

“Not without me I hope.” A low familiar voice said causing you to jump. He let out a deep chuckle and held his hands up. “ I didn’t mean to scare you lawr” You tilted your and continued walking. 

“So you were following me?” You said as your hand grazed one of the flowers you passed by. “And what does that word mean?” 

The sound of the music was growing faint with every step you took but the further you walked the more things around you were illuminated. “You could say that yes. What kind of leader would I be if I left someone like you alone? And it means-“You spun around and knitted your eyebrows together. 

“ What is with you and your brother commenting on my height? I already know I’m short, okay!” You huffed out 

“ I can’t speak for my brother but I find your shortness cute.” You rolled your eyes letting out an annoyed grunt shoving his hips back in the process. But of course that was the wrong move on your part. The devious smirk on your face slowly faded as you watched his face morph into something you’d never seen before. 

It was as if your feet forgot how to walk forward and instead walked backward. The cold rock wall against your back caused you to let out a gasp. ‘When did we walk into a cave?’ You thought. It wasn’t until now that you realized the details in his face let alone his body. You bit your lip trying to look past the groin that was rather close to your face. You exhaled deeply and tried to move to the side but his hand pushed you back up against the wall. You looked up to find him staring down intensely. You watched as his head tilted. 

“Now what would happen if someone were to corner you like this?” He slowly lowered himself and you tried reaching out to trace the glowing dots on his abdomen but your hand never reached. “Someone as little as you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself against someone like me.” His hands grazed your cheek causing you to lean into it. “But you're not a wild animal or-” You felt his hands grip under your arms and swiftly pick you up pressing you back into the wall. 

Your breath hitched by how close his face was. “You clearly lack skills that would be vital to protect yourself out here.” He said, looking dead straight into your eyes.

“And how would you know?” He chuckled sending chills down your back. “Because I’ve been watching you ever since you started working here. I never saw one of your kind so small before.”

“ I didn’t know a leader could be a stalker.” He raised a brow.  “If stalker is what you call it then I guess but could you blame me? You had me intrigued,” he said with a smirk on his face as he moved closer to yours. Making your heart beat faster than ever. ‘What is he going to do? Is he going to kiss me?’ You thought. “We should get back.” He said pulling away from my ear and setting me back down.

“ hu-what?” He chuckled and gestured for you to walk in front of him. “ I said we should get back I wouldn’t want anyone thinking you got lost.” You felt his smirk burning in your back and all you could do was walk back to where everyone was with a frazzled mind. ‘What was that? I could have sworn he was going to kiss me! Then he pulls away. Get it together why the hell would he kiss me? I’m sure he’s betrothed to someone.’ And it didn’t help having those thoughts race through your mind. 

You felt his hand graze you back causing you to look up at him looking down at you. You gasped feeling one foot make its own decision to stop mid-motion. You yelped feeling the impact hit your knee. He cursed and swiftly picked you up. Not sort of wines coming from you. “See… I think it’s best I carry you.” He said turning in a different direction. “Maybe the second bowl of alcohol was too much…” you said gripping onto him. You heard him scoff. 

“No the first bowl was enough matter of fact. You shouldn't have drank any at all. I’m surprised you are still talking.” He said in an amused tone as if the alcohol was something not to be messed with. “And why is that? I can handle my liquor quite well!” You huffed.

He laughed and shook his head “Well my ass! You just fell and hurt your knee.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah because you touched me!” He didn’t say anything but kept walking… It was like that for a while. He said nothing and you stole long glances at him. You gripped onto him tighter feeling like you would fall. Making your face accidentally end up in the crevice of his neck. You cursed to yourself, smelling the addicting aroma coming off of him making you look up. He looked down briefly muttering something you couldn't understand. “Where are we going?” you asked resting your head on his chest. “Back to my place I need to examine your cut.”

He pulled back the flap on the door opening and sat you down on the woven carpet. You looked around as he walked off somewhere. It was lowly lit but lit enough so that you could see all the little details. ‘He's neat....and it doesn't smell in here. Well, why would it smell? He obviously knows how to clean especially himself. Gosh, he smelt so good. Did the Na’vi have cologne?’ Once again you found yourself distracted by all these questions and thoughts. You didn't notice he was sitting in front of you until his large hand touched your leg. You let out a gasp and he chuckled. “And you're easily frightened…I’m not letting you go out there alone.” You rolled your eyes and he let out a surprised scoff as he applied whatever it was on your knee.

“You know you have one hell of an attitude in you.” You grunted, “ especially someone for your size.” You reached in front of him and pushed his leg. If he wasn't so tall you would have pushed his chest. “See, my point is proven. Now sit still before I make you I need to finish doing this.” You raised a brow and looked him in the eye. “And why would I do that?” He let out a chuckle removing his hand from your knee. “Because I said so now don't move.” You huffed and stayed still until your eyes leaned back on his chiseled abdomen. Every part of his body had a different stripe. Without realizing your hand inched closer to touch the ones near his belly button. 

“If you keep touching me like that Lawr I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.” He said jokingly but deep down you wanted it to be real. Unknowingly the sexual tension that had been building from this morning had come to a violent boil, and truthfully, you wanted him to do dirty things to you.  You looked up doe-eyed “Then don’t.” He looked shocked for a moment but smirked your comment off. “ I don’t think you know what you're talking about.” He said lowly 

He moved back now finished with your knee you bit your lip trying to decide what to do next.  You felt his thumb graze your lips dragging you out of your thoughts. “Don’t do that I’ll have another thing to fix.” He said but this time he wasn’t joking. This time his eyes were locked on you and his finger still pressed against his lips waiting for you to release the hold. 

But you didn’t instead you parted your mouth slightly letting his thumb fall in and swirled your tongue around it. Imitating what you would do to him if he would give you a chance. 

He let out a deep grunt when sucked on it but eventually let it go with a pop. “Please”, you asked, lust lacing your voice. You reached down at his loincloth waiting for him to protest and say no even looking up for approval. But the only look on his face was a smirk. “What are you waiting for my little Lawr? Put that mouth to work and show me how much of a good girl you are.” You bit your lip moving back to his loincloth swiftly untying it. 

You let out a gasp once faced with his large thick uncut cock. Your mouth was just watering at the sight ‘Gosh I need this in my mouth right now! Is this even going to fit in me?’ You thought as you took him I. Your hands bringing your mouth closer. 

You licked up the dripping pre cum on his tip making him let out a groan, bringing his hand to the back of your neck.  ‘There's no way this is going to fit in my mouth’ you thought as you quickly tried to figure out how to tackle it. You looked up and he let out a chuckle. “Is this your first time?” He asked in a rather cocky tone. You rolled your eyes. Took the tip of his cock into your mouth doing what you could do in the position you were in. 

A slew of curses spewed from his mouth as you tried to take him deeper but to no avail you were a coughing gagging mess. He huffed out as his hand caressed your cheek. “You gotta relax your throat, pretty girl. I know it’s big but if you want to take me you gotta relax it.” His smooth lust filled voice made you clench around nothing.  He suddenly let out a low grunt as his hand wrapped back around the back of your neck.  causing you to look up while still sucking on. 

He pulled you back by your hair. Making an unexpected moan to escape your mouth. “Enough of that on your back now.” He ordered. Without a second to spare, he picked you up putting you on your back. Your breath hitched feeling his fingers graze your clothed clit. He let out a mischievous chuckle. 

Resulting in your skirt getting yanked off along with your top. Leaving your chest exposed and your panties, which did a horrible job concealing how turned on you were.  Before you could even reach to cover your breast his mouth was already latched onto your nipple. “Fuck” you moaned out bringing your hands up to his head. You could feel him smirk against you. You gasped hearing a rip causing you to lift your head up in surprise only to find your panties ripped and thrown across the room. “Neteyam!” he chuckled. “You don’t need them anyways”, he towered over you revealing his cheeky smirk as his braids fell over his face. He took his cock in one hand stroking it slowly, clenching his fist as he rose to the tip. You watched yearningly, “Are you going to jerk off to me all night or are you going to fuck me?” You cursed out feeling him tap the thick head of his cock suddenly on your clit. “This is what you want?” he asked teasingly while looking at you wholly overtaken by lust.

You whined gripping his forearm as he lathered your wetness on his cock. “Yes” you finally spoke. He teased your entrance slowly trying not to hurt you, but it was hell holding back from plunging deep inside you. “You’re gonna need to breathe for me Lawr and relax. I can't do it if you don't do that for me,” he said softly. You nodded your head lazily still gripping onto his forearm, and as soon as your breathing became someone regular he began to enter.

 It was a burning pain at first that had you clenching your eyes shut even letting a few stray tears slip. “ I know I know I’m sorry Lawr it will feel better soon- fuck I promise.” He planted sweet kisses all over your face while whispering comforting words in your ear but soon the bearing feeling faded and your grip lessened. It was as if someone flicked a switch and now all you felt was pleasure. “Please” you mewed out as he started to properly thrust into you. He looked down wiping the stray ears from your face and smirked at your newfound pleasure. “See I told you… All you had to do was trust me.” He let out a deep gruntal moan as you clenched around him. 

It’s a shame he couldn’t fit all of him inside you. But that was okay because as the seconds passed inch by inch he was filling you up almost knocking the air from your lungs as he pounded into you. You bit down on his forearm moaning into him. 

He let out a breathy chuckle while rutting into you. “Marking me already hm?” He brought his hand down massaging your swollen clit. “You don’t have to worry I’m not going anywhere I’m yours.” You couldn’t process what he was saying or even begin to translate it. All you knew was that with the way his hips were moving and how much he was stretching you out you wouldn’t last long.  

He pulled out suddenly flipping you over, and pulling your hips up. “Wa- what’s going on?”  He leaned down kissing your back making your head droop low. “ I’m sorry I can’t hold back anymore.” He said in a tone you weren’t familiar with.  Your head spun around to see him lining up, but before you could ask what he was saying he dove back in making a scream of pleasure rip right through your throat. 

His grip on your hips was sure to leave a bruise the next day, but it was worth it. It was all worth it. You were ass up face down with Neteyam plunging deep in you. With your pussy relentlessly cleaning around him trying to pull him in deeper.  “shi- FUCK, you drive me crazy. You know that  fuck I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching around me like that!” The tears that were once on your face from pain were now replaced with tears created by pure bliss. 

No man has fucked you like this before. The orgasm that was brewing deep within you was fast approaching and if his brutal pounding didn’t put you on your ass by the end of the night the orgasm sure would. He reached under rubbing your clit again causing you to try and crawl away. He let out a chuckle yanking you back. “You’re not going anywhere. Take this fucking cock like the good girl you are and finish what you started lawr.” You cursed out as he continued to massage your clit not granting you any mercy. “No no no FUUUUU-“your screams fill the room around you as your orgasm ambushed its way to the forefront. 

A strong gush of fluids soaked the ground below you. “Good girl, look at you”, he cooed as his thrust got sloppy. He moaned out resuming the hold he had on my hips. “I'm gonna cum- fuuck I’m gonna fill you up so good. Is that what you want? Hm” you whined at the thought of his cum spurting into you.

 Despite you just cumming you clenched down on him hard. “Shii- I'm gonna fill you up- breed you so good. Make sure it fucking takes and if it doesn’t don’t think for a second I won’t have you bent over again.” His voice was strained. You turned back locking eyes. “ I want you to cum in me.” You mewed out. You watched as he came undone, feeling his cock twitch in you as his hot seed filled you up. Flooding your pussy to the point it was spurting out while he was still deep in you 

“Fuck.” He let out a breathy chuckle while rubbing your back. Your head dropped pressing against the floor, but he refused to let your body fall. Spinning you around and laying you on his chest as his back met the floor instead all whilst making an effort to keep his cock stuffed in you. “We have to get back to the-” he chuckled softly rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I'm sure they knew from the moment we left we weren't coming back.” You lay there on his chest believing every word he said, even if it wasn't the truth. You were too tired to question it and way too cock drunk to care

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities: Chapter Three (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Upon starting your last year of law school, imagine your surprise when the woman from your one night stand turns out to be your professor.

Word Count: 6.1k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Light sexual situations (very light)

A/N: Hello! I got a bit carried away with this chapter, but I’m battling a head cold so I’m just posting all of it. I’d like to warn that I am: 1) not a lawyer & 2) not a law student (yet 🤧)… so I did some brief research on things, but I am not an expert!! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and feel free to let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!

Tag-List: @aggieslittleslut @gilmorelivie @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @ris-ris-mind @sabstance-blog @tr333sus

There was a special moment in every person’s life that made them reconsider all of their past choices. For you, that moment happened while sitting in the middle of a lecture hall, wondering how the hell the woman from your first one night stand turned out to be your professor. If this was the universe’s way of being funny you were seriously missing the joke.

Agnes, no, Agatha, you mentally corrected yourself, was passing around a seating chart, and you were fixated on her every move around the lecture hall. There was something so hypnotizing about her, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The most obvious answer, of course, was that she had just fucked your brains out a few days ago, and the hormones were clouding your judgement. Flashes of her body pressing yours into the mattress as she whispered pure filth in your ear, driving you to an orgasmic high had you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. As if she could read your thoughts, you noticed her inquisitive eyes meet yours. But as quickly as she graced you with her attention, she looked away.

“Now, I know most of your professors use syllabus week as an excuse to put off lecturing, but we’re going to be diving right into the corrupt, filthy world of criminal defense law.” Agatha’s voice rang out through the lecture hall, and you saw a few of your classmates' shoulders slump at her words. “The purpose of this class is to make you question your morals; to rethink any existing ethical values you currently hold.”

Agnes-Agatha, was so well-spoken, and you found yourself hanging onto her every word. Her perfectly painted red lips were mesmerizing to watch as they twisted to form various syllables, and you were having a rather difficult time focusing on her lecture.

Standing in the center of the hall, Agatha held her hands by her side, and you watched her fingers slipping inside her pants pockets. “I want you to take every preconceived notion you have regarding criminal defense and erase it. When you’re a criminal defense attorney, it doesn’t matter if your client is innocent or guilty. It doesn’t matter if they are on trial for petty theft, or for first degree murder.”

She turned her attention to the PowerPoint being displayed on the huge screen, and you, alongside your very disgruntled classmates, pulled out your laptops to take notes. “The biggest mistake you can make in the courtroom is taking the time to care if your client actually committed the crime. That doesn’t matter. I don’t care what any professor or prosecutor will tell you; ignore them. We don’t care if someone is a criminal, but we do care about the motive. Why would someone commit a crime of that nature? What would lead them to have to behave that way?”

A few of your classmates appeared surprised at the professor’s words, but Agatha continued on. “To win over a judge or jury you need to not only be able to rationalize, but clearly justify why the motives lead to the actions of the accused. Nothing in life is ever black and white, there’s always an obscene amount of gray mixed in.”

Leaning back against her desk, Agatha clicked through the slide show. “Now, I don’t typically begin this until a few weeks into the semester, but you’re all 3L’s, yes? You should be up for a challenge on the first day.”

Not waiting for verbal confirmation, she pushed herself off the desk, pointing to someone sitting in the front row. “I see my seating chart is still floating around somewhere so, you, what’s your name?”

A petite girl with sleek blonde hair pulled back in a braid apprehensively looked at Agatha. “Blair Lange, Professor Harkness.”

“Well Miss Lange, you’re going to be my prosecutor.” Agatha gave her a rather menacing smirk. “If you’d join me, please.”

Looking around the room, she spotted the seating chart and went to retrieve it. Her eyes scanned the page, and you were captivated with the sight of her long index finger tracing along the various rows filled with names. “Hmmm, let’s see.” Agatha drawled out, voice sickly sweet like honey. “Who’s going to be my next victim?”

It seemed the universe was keen on laughing at you today, as you heard her call your name, slowly drawing out each syllable. Lovely. Rising from your chair, you felt dozens of pairs of eyes on you as you descended the stairs, but there was only one set that you were focused on. Agatha was observing you with an indecipherable expression on her face, and you felt your cheeks deepen in color at the prolonged eye contact.

“So class, we have our prosecution, and our defense,” She motioned to you, signaling for you to come closer to her, and she handed you each a packet. “I’m going to be the judge. I want you both to look at the following slides I have printed detailing the case and determine how you would have handled this.”

Blair’s face paled at that, and you couldn’t blame her. Cold calling was intimidating enough, but a mock trial on the first day was not exactly how you imagined starting your morning. There were a lot of misconceptions regarding law school; a lot of law students, yourself included, had no interest being in a courtroom. Corporate law dealt with complex contracts and deals for major companies, something you preferred working with. This was nowhere near what you wanted to practice, but it seemed Agatha simply didn’t care.

Agatha strolled back to her desk, leaving you both to read the information provided to you. Flipping through the pages, you noted how the case involved a woman being charged with attempted grand theft and attempted assault of the business owner.

From a first glance, there didn’t seem to be much for you to even argue. The defendant was a former employee of the aforementioned business, and had been fired mere hours before the incident. But, there were a few interesting details. The defendant had no priors, and, from what you were reading, multiple eyewitnesses reported the business owner pulling a gun on them. Your eyes were locked on one particular paragraph, and you remembered what Agatha had just said, about obscene amounts of gray.

Blair, for her part, looked fairly uncertain, and kept casting nervous glances towards the professor. Agatha ignored her, and after a few moments she clapped her hands together. “Alright, let’s begin. Now, all I want from the two of you is to have a lively debate on how you would take the information given to argue your side. You don’t have to use the argument given on the page, you can choose a different route if you have sufficient evidence to support. Miss Lange, why don’t you get us started.”

Clearing her throat, Blair looked down at the papers, and you noted how her hands were so unsteady they were shaking. “Right. Well I would argue that the prosecution proceeds with both attempted grand theft and assault against the defendant.”

Rolling her eyes, Agatha let out a deep sigh. “Miss Lange, I’m not asking you to read verbatim what is on the sheet in front of you. When looking at court documents, it is essential to not only be able to read what is given but to be able to put it in your own words.”

Blair kept her eyes glued to the page and Agatha shook her head in disapproval. “Fine, I’ll let it slide for now. If the defense could keep us going, let’s keep it snappy.”

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Agatha. “The defense is pleading not guilty to attempted assault and grand theft.”

You noticed Blair looked up in surprise at your statement, as that was not printed in the court documents, while Agatha merely raised her eyebrows, turning her attention towards you. “Not guilty? Why?”

“The plaintiff stated in their testimony that both the attempted assault and grand theft were unprovoked, but the defense is arguing that both of these allegations have mitigating circumstances that I’d argue are grounds for immediate dismissal.”

Blair shuffled the papers around, and she appeared uncomfortable. “Professor Harkness, that’s not listed anywhere in here.”

Agatha held up a hand, signaling for Blair to stop talking. “Defense, if you could proceed.”

You could feel butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach as you realized you were taking a rather large leap in judgment. “On behalf of my client, I’m looking to not only have these charges dropped, but to formally charge the plaintiff with wrongful termination.”

“Does the prosecution have anything to add?” Agatha questioned, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m not sure where to even begin, Professor.” Blair admitted, and you felt a quick twinge of pity for her, briefly wondering if perhaps you should dial it back.

Agatha frowned, and you could immediately tell she was displeased with that answer. “You don’t know where to begin? That’s the answer you’re going with?”

Blair remained silent, and Agatha took a deep breath. “My, my, you’ve completed two years of law school and you don’t know where to begin. Is there anything constructive you can add to this debate, Miss Lange?”

Stammering, Blair shook her head, looking anywhere but at your professor. “No, I don’t.”

“Disappointing.” Agatha admitted, and her eyes narrowed, pointing to the door. “Get out.”

Your classmate’s eyes widened, and you felt that twinge of pity grow even larger.

“Professor Harkness, please. I didn’t-” Blair stammers.

“Get out of my class. Now.” Agatha repeated, her tone growing more agitated with each word. “And don’t come back until you’re adequately prepared.”

The hall was dead quiet, and you were too shocked to know how to react, or if you even should. Nearly all of your classmates were dumbfounded as well, this wasn't a normal occurrence in classes. A lot of your former law professors were strict and had extremely high expectations of their students; endless hours of case studies and readings, roasting students who froze during cold calls, you name it. However, you had never witnessed one of them kick a student out of class, least of all during syllabus week.

To her credit, Blair left with a lot more grace than you could have mustered in her shoes. She swiftly grabbed her belongings and hurried out of the lecture hall, the sound of the doors slamming shut reverberated across the walls.

Agatha paid no mind to the noise, her focus was entirely on you, deep blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “There is no direct evidence suggesting that the plaintiff is guilty of wrongful termination, is there?”

Your eyes flickered between the papers in your hands and the alluring woman in front of you. “Not in those exact words, no.”

Agatha let out a low hum, taking a small step closer to you. “So you’re basing your argument off of what exactly? Intuition?”

A few of your classmates snickered, but you ignored them.

Shaking your head, you tried to muster any remaining confidence you could find. “No. I’m basing it off the written testimonials by four different employees, stating that the defendant showed up late on the day of the incident because they were at a previously scheduled doctor’s appointment.”

“But there’s nothing to support that the defendant was fired because they were late. Much less, that they were wrongfully terminated for it.” Agatha skillfully argued, poking holes in your theory with ease. “How do we know that they didn’t have a history of showing up late to work? Having an incomplete argument guarantees the prosecution will tear you to shreds, you need something more absolute.”

“That’s true.” You admitted, and took a pause before adding, “I think the defendant being pregnant makes things a bit more absolute though, doesn’t it?”

Agatha’s face remained expressionless as she slowly raised her left arm up, index finger tapping against her cheek. “Is that a question or your statement?”

Without hesitating you replied, “My statement.”

“And how do you plan on proving that the defendant was not only fired due to their pregnancy, but that both counts of attempted grand theft and assault should be dropped?” Agatha questioned, and it looked as if she was actively trying to restrain herself from stepping closer to you, but surely you were imagining that.

“The defendant had absolutely no priors, and they don’t have a history of being fired from previous employers.” You pointed out, setting your papers down on Agatha’s desk. “They had previously cleared coming in late in order to go to a scheduled doctor’s appointment, and it was stated that when they showed up to work that the plaintiff fired them. Written testimonials from multiple employees stated the plaintiff said it was unacceptable for the defendant to show up late, despite them approving the time off.”

Agatha’s lips pursed as she processed what you were saying. “You’re making an awful lot of assumptions. What of the attempted grand theft and assault?”

“Grand theft in the state of New York starts at $1,000. The defendant showed up at the business after they had been wrongfully terminated to request their pay from previous days worked, which would come out to around that amount.” You explained, hoping you had the right number. “As for the quoted attempted assault, no eyewitnesses noted the defendant raising even a finger to threaten the plaintiff. The latter, however, was seen pulling out a gun on the defendant, completely unprovoked.”

“And if the plaintiff claims it was self defense?” Agatha fired back with so much zest that you wondered how much she was enjoying this debate.

Tilting your head, you pondered her words. “Self defense against an unarmed pregnant woman? That won’t hold up well with the jury.”

“You’re certain this is the argument you want to back?” Agatha tested you again, her index finger moving from her cheek to lightly stroke her bottom lip, and you found yourself hypnotized by the motion. As if she could sense your distraction, her ever red lips tilted up to form a slight smirk.

“I’m certain.”

Her eyes bore into yours, searching for any hesitation or uncertainty. You held your own as much as you could, ignoring the flip flop of your nerves. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she gave you a single nod, turning her attention back to the rest of the class.

“Not bad.” Agatha offered, and you immediately let out the breath you had been holding in. “A few of your arguments would have been thrown out, but you certainly appear to have the stamina for the courtroom.”

She gave you a subtle raised eyebrow at the last part of the sentence as you lightly blushed, confirming your suspicions she had most likely selected you on purpose. Heading back to your seat, you listened to her drone on to the rest of the class that everyone would eventually end up in the hot seat before the semester’s end.

“And it appears we are all out of time for the day.” Agatha announced, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief at that. “Come prepared to debate the best way to prepare an opening statement.”

Everyone eagerly filed out of the hall, but you lingered, slowly putting away your belongings. A few of your classmates congratulated you on surviving Agatha’s ruthless interrogations, and you merely offered them a brief thanks. Agatha also appeared to be in no hurry, as she leisurely shut down her laptop. You debated on if you should talk to her, if you should address the elephant in the room that you were both dancing around. Walking down the steps of the aisles, you were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you tripped on the last step and went flying forward.

Before you tumbled to the floor, swift hands wrapped around your waist and shoulder, helping steady you to the ground. As you went to thank your savior, you were surprised to find Agatha standing in front of you, bag dropped at her side.

“You’re always this clumsy, hm?” Agatha lightly quipped as she examined you. If you didn’t know any better you would say she was concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” You assured her, thankful she had been there to catch you. “Could I talk to you?” Looking around the room you noticed most of your classmates had left but you carefully added, “About the discussion in class?”

Agatha hesitated, and you wondered if you pushed too far, but after a moment she nodded. “I have some time now, my office?” She walked away before you could reply, swinging the doors open. “Try to keep up, and be careful not to trip.”

It didn’t take long for you to realize Agatha Harkness was quite feared in the law school. You lost track of the number of students who averted their gaze and scurried away as soon as they noticed her rounding the corner. It was almost amusing, at least Agatha seemed to think so, as she looked quite smug on the walk to her office. You made the trek in silence, and it eerily reminded you of a similar encounter you had shared with her only a few days prior. Upon reaching the office, Agatha quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside.

Agatha’s office was relatively spacious for a law professor, with high vaulted ceilings and large windows that allowed plenty of light in. The walls were adorned with large bookcases, filled to the brim with various titles ranging from Greek classics to biographies of different Supreme Court justices. She had a plethora of plants scattered around, and you learned from spending enough time in Maria’s office that Agatha knew how to properly water them. There was a large desk situated near the windows, with a high backed mahogany chair at the head.

Agatha took a seat, and pointed to two smaller seats on the other side of the desk. “Sit, please.”

You did as she instructed, taking note of the rather expensive looking whiskey near the corner of the desk as well as a few books the professor appeared to be reading. When you looked at her, you were unsurprised to find her curiously gazing at you.

“I assume you don’t actually want to discuss today’s class?” Agatha guessed, amusement evident in her tone.

“Not exactly.” You admitted, feeling another rush of nerves course through your system at finally being alone with her.

“Oh? Whatever did you want to talk about then?” Agatha bantered, leaning forward across her desk as she gave you an expectant look.

“Agatha…” Trailing off, you cleared your throat. “I mean, Professor Harkness.”

Frowning, Agatha reached her hand across the desk to brush against yours, chuckling as you jumped at the contact. “Just Agatha when we’re alone, dear.”

Nearly ripping your hand from hers, you folded them across your lap. “Professor Harkness, I really don’t feel comfortable calling you by your first name under these circumstances.”

Raising her eyebrows, Agatha leaned back in her chair. “Under what circumstances? After I just fucked you a few days ago and you just found out I was your professor?”

“Don’t say that!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder as if someone could have heard, despite the door being firmly shut.

“Honestly, dear, you aren’t the first girl to have slept with her professor, and you certainly won’t be the last.” Agatha stood up, walking over to an electric tea kettle she had on a bar cart. “Tea?”

Stunned by her casual response, you were at a loss for words. “You’re seriously asking me if I want tea?”

“Well I would ask if you would like some whiskey but I know drinking this early in the day is typically frowned upon.” Agatha jested, but upon noticing how upset you appeared she backed off. “Honestly, you didn’t know I was going to be your professor, I had no idea you would be walking in late to my lecture hall. No harm, no foul. No one has to know what happened.”

Her words made enough sense, and you reluctantly nodded. “I guess not.”

“It was just a one night stand, it didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.” Agatha added, turning on her tea kettle, fingers raking over various mugs. “We can just forget it ever happened.”

You knew she was right, but you were surprised to find how much her words stung. “Right, well I’m glad we were able to clear that up.” Standing up, you grabbed your bag. “I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. Thank you again, Professor Harkness, and I’ll see you in class.”

If Agatha was surprised by your abrupt exit, she didn’t show it. She nodded, pouring herself some tea. “It was my pleasure, dear.”

Leaving her office, you told yourself that you could relax and that Agatha was right, you could just forget that it ever happened.

Only it turned out the more you tried to forget something, the harder it was to put it out of your brain. The rest of your day was spent zoning out in the library. While you had wanted to get a head start on your hours of readings, instead you kept remembering the feel of Agatha’s body against yours, the taste of her tongue in your mouth. The feel of her long fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh, her hot breath in your ear telling you how good you were for her. It was embarrassing, really.

Agatha made it quite clear in her office that it was a one night stand, and that it didn’t have to mean anything in the long run. But she continued to invade your every thought, until you inevitably lost track of time. The hours ticked by, and you knew studying in your apartment wouldn’t be any better. You normally had no trouble shutting out the rest of the world to focus on your class work, but there was something so magnetic about Agatha Harkness. This was wrong, and crazy, and you knew it. You had only spent one night with this woman, you barely knew her. But she was addictive, and she had somehow managed to rot your brain in the process.

Just as you finally started to get into your reading, you heard your phone ding. Letting out a disgruntled sigh, you shut your books for the evening and grabbed your phone, deciding it would be best to just try again in the morning. Scrolling through your notifications as you got ready to leave, you almost dropped your phone as you read the newest email in your inbox.

Not sure if you’re still on campus, but if you are, feel free to drop by my office. A few things I wanted to discuss from today’s class. -A

It was nearly dusk, and you watched the sun slowly begin to set over the Manhattan skyline, filling the sky with colorful hues of oranges, pinks, and purples. There were still plenty of people in the library, as a number of students had night classes, and you were frozen. Did Agatha know you were upset when you left? Was she going to ask you to drop her class?

As if you were in a trance, you mindlessly walked to the professor’s office, keeping your head low. You could feel your heartbeat, pounding so loud you feared it might explode through your chest as you reached her closed door.

Knocking twice, you waited for her captivating voice to tell you to enter. Upon doing so you found the woman who had taken over your every waking thought leaning against the windowsill of her office, sipping on a glass of what you presumed to be whiskey.

“Shut the door.” Agatha immediately requested, not offering you any other sort of greeting.

Gently closing the door as you entered, you lingered, unsure where to go or what you should do.

Agatha finally looked at you, and motioned to the whiskey on her desk. “Would you like a glass?”

“It’s probably best if I don’t.” You declined, once again remembering the last time you were drinking around her. “Thank you though.”

“You were upset by what I said earlier.” Agatha stated, setting her whiskey on the windowsill. She said it calmly and so matter of fact you almost wondered why she bothered saying it at all.

“I wasn’t upset.” You disagreed, but she gave you a pointed look in return as if to say bullshit.

“You were upset by what I said earlier.” Agatha repeated, stepping away from the windowsill. “Why?”

“I…I don’t know.” You replied, the lie burning like acid on your tongue, causing you to wince.

“You don’t know?” Agatha mimicked your words, and she seemed agitated as she began to walk towards you, closing the distance little by little. “You don’t know why you were upset?”

“Professor Harkness, I really don’t see why we have to go over all of this again-” You started to say until you were rudely cut off by a loud cackle.

“For an aspiring lawyer, you have an absolute shit poker face.” Agatha informed you, swarming in; you shivered as you were suddenly standing so close together that you were nearly face to face. “Why were you upset?”

Your face grew red from her scrutinizing gaze, and that only egged her on. “I think we both know why, don’t we, darling?” Leaning in until she was close enough to your ear, she leaned in to whisper, “You wanted me to fuck you again, didn’t you?”

“Professor Harkness, I…” You breathed out, feeling yourself grow dizzy, and you couldn’t remember anything but her name.

“I thought I told you to call me Agatha.” The professor gently reprimanded you, as her hand came up to cup the back of your neck, and you could smell the whiskey in her breath. “Just Agatha.”

As her tongue parted her luscious red lips, you lost any remaining functioning brain cells and closed the distance between you, frantically kissing her. Agatha tangled her fingers in your hair, tugging you impossibly closer. The professor was kissing you with fervor, and you slowly found yourself melting with every passionate movement of her lips. Her tongue slowly, teasingly, sought entrance to your mouth, which you granted without a second thought. You let out a series of quiet moans as her hands moved lower to cup your ass, greedily groping, and she chuckled at your reaction.

“So easy for me.” Agatha softly murmured against your lips, pulling back just enough to lead you to lean back against her desk.

You wanted to argue that no, you weren’t easy for her, but you both knew that was a lie. Her hands moved to remove the scarf you had been forced to wear as a result of the multitude of hickeys she had adorned your body with, and you watched her eyes darken at the sight.

“Well you certainly bruise easily.” Agatha teased, tracing every mark with her fingers, the overwhelming sensation causing you to whine. “And still so responsive. Fascinating.”

Thousands of thoughts were circulating in your brain, and every touch from Agatha made it harder for you to focus. Her lips attached to the side of your neck, immediately alternating between sucking and biting, lightly kissing each new mark she left. At this rate you were going to have to ask your roommates if they had any scarves you could borrow. Just as Agatha went to unbutton your pants, there was a loud thumping noise from the hallway, and you both leapt apart.

Panting, you felt a spike in your anxiety at the thought of being caught like this, even though rationally speaking you knew no one could possibly know what you were doing in here.

Agatha seemed to be having similar thoughts, as she straightened her jacket, clearing her throat. “Perhaps this isn’t the best place to continue this. Could I invite you for a night cap?”

In an attempt to get your breathing under control, you shook your head. “No, I think that would be a mistake.”

Shooting you a perplexed look, Agatha strolled over to the windowsill to pick up her whiskey. “A mistake? If I correctly recall you just kissed me, did you not?”

“You came on to me first!” You argued, and your brain appeared to be regaining consciousness as you remembered why this was such a bad idea. “I can’t risk this ruining things.”

“Someone certainly thinks highly of themselves.” Agatha dryly retorted, finishing off her whiskey and pouring herself another. “And what pray tell do you think this,” she motioned to you before continuing, “will ruin?”

“I have a job offer for next year.” You explained, and mentally cursed yourself for your lapse of judgment. “They never said fucking my professor would cause me to lose it, but I don’t think it would help my case.”

Agatha’s eyes shifted at that comment, and she let out a sigh. “And you’re worried about what, exactly? That we’ll give ourselves away and this unimportant firm will care so much about your deviousness that they’ll drop you?”

“It’s Stark & Strange.” You bluntly corrected her, not caring if you were being rude. “And I can’t really afford to fuck that up.”

You didn’t mention how literally you couldn’t afford to mess this up. Law school was expensive, and while you were granted a few scholarships to cover tuition, you still had to take out hundreds of thousands of dollars of loans. Plus not to mention the extra thousands you would have to spend in order to prepare for the bar. You were thankful your summer associate position paid so well, as you were able to pay for the majority of your rent for the year, but you weren’t exactly flush with cash. Working in corporate law would practically guarantee you opportunities you could never dream of having otherwise.

“Tony Stark is a dick, and I know for a fact he’s committed sins far worse than sleeping with his professor.” Agatha unhelpfully offered, but she appeared to sense how upset you were as she finally walked back over to you, setting her glass down on her desk before rubbing your shoulders. “No one is going to find out, dear. There’s really nothing to fret over.”

It was surreal, how one touch from her practically set your body ablaze with want. It was clear you were unable to control yourself when you were around the older woman. The thought of having to sit in that large lecture hall three times a week, watching her and obsessing over her every little move felt almost unbearable.

Hesitating for a brief moment, you moved your eyes to look at anything but her. “I think I need to drop your class.”

“Absolutely not.”

Frowning, you looked back to find her staring at you as if you said something incredibly stupid. “Why not? You have plenty of other students.”

“They’re morons.” Agatha insisted, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious.

Snorting, you shook your head at how dramatic she was. “Today was only the first day, how could you possibly know that?”

Agatha’s right hand gripped the desk, while her left absentmindedly played with your hair, gently stroking it. “I can just tell, I’m rather gifted that way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “And apparently very humble as well.”

Blue eyes sparkling, Agatha continued to twirl strands of your hair. “You have a lot of potential as a defense attorney. I saw it today during class. There’s a lot of fight in you, and passion. That’s not something that can be taught.”

Blushing at the compliment, you shook your head. “Thank you, but I really have no interest in being in a courtroom.”

Shrugging, Agatha dropped your hair, taking another small sip of her whiskey. “It never hurts to keep your options open.”

“I just don’t think this is a good idea.” You continued, keeping yourself grounded to reality. “I can’t…control myself around you.”

“But that’s half the fun, darling.” Agatha taunted, but showed you mercy as she went back to sit in her chair. “It’s ultimately up to you, but I think it would be a mistake to drop the class.”

Following her lead, you sat across from her, fidgeting your hands on your lap. “So what, then? We just avoid each other outside of class?”

Agatha shook her head in disagreement. “Too juvenile. Besides, that would just make it easier for us to give into temptation.”

She put a special emphasis on the last word, giving you a salacious grin, and you wiggled uncomfortably in your seat before you eventually responded. “I’m not seeing any other solutions besides me dropping your class and trying to get in another.”

“It’s far too late for you to get a spot in anything half decent.” Agatha insisted, and you knew she was right. At this point you’d have to take an extra class in the spring, and pay more money than you could currently afford. “Besides, I already have a solution.”

You looked at her, surprised at how quickly she had come up with something. “You do?”

“We’ll make a contract.” Agatha simply stated, and you stared blankly at her.

“A…contract?”

The professor deeply sighed, running her fingers back to unpin her hair, the dark curls messily framing her face. “Honestly, dear. Didn’t you spend the summer fawning over those big bad attorneys at Stark & Strange? Yes, a contract. We’ll each put our terms in and come up with an appropriate way to navigate this until the semester’s end in thirteen weeks.”

A contract. Hm. It was a bit cliche, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything better.

But still, you were curious to what extent Agatha intended to try and make this work. “What exactly would we be putting in the contract?”

Agatha shrugged. “This and that. No sex, obviously.” She gave you an inquisitive glance. “Unless you feel differently?”

Flashes of her fingers curling and twisting inside you had you squirming again. “No, I think that’s definitely necessary.”

Grinning like a cat that ate the canary, Agatha smugly replied with, “I thought so. Given your particular lack of self control, perhaps we could eliminate anything…carnal, hm?”

Glaring at her, you wondered where she got the audacity. “I don’t think it’s just me that’s lacking control, but that’s probably wise.” Another thought crossed your mind, and you quickly added, “Then again, we never did discuss the Agnes of it all, did we? Do you really think you’re important enough to need to give people a fake name?”

“You’re quite cheeky for someone who was practically begging me to fuck her in my office.” Agatha shot back, and shook her head. “Do you not give yourself an alias when you talk to strangers?”

Enjoying the banter, you gave a thoughtful expression before eventually saying, “No, I don’t think most people do that.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes, and she seemed unamused. “Safety, dear. For all I knew, you could have been a serial killer.”

You gave her a wide, innocent smile. “No, I just turned out to be your student.”

“You're not supposed to make jokes.” Agatha informed you, swirling the remaining whiskey in her glass. “Most lawyers aren’t funny.”

Ignoring her, you changed the subject. “And what is going to happen at the end of the semester?” You curiously eyed her, unsure what her response would be, or even what you wanted it to be.

“We’ll reevaluate of course.” Agatha explained, before adding with a smirk. “That is, if you pass my class.”

“Of course.”

“So do we have a deal?” Holding her hand out, you quickly realized she wanted you to shake it.

You reached out to firmly grab her hand, and her fingers intertwined with yours, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“We have a deal.”

Releasing your hand, she pulled out a post-it note, messily scribbling something down before sliding it over to you. “That’s my cell and personal email. Send me your terms by tomorrow night and we’ll put something together.”

Taking the post-it, your eyes scanned the writing before carefully pocketing it. “Right, thanks. I guess I should be going?”

Nodding, Agatha stood up to walk you to the door. Meeting you halfway, she carefully wrapped the scarf back around your next, tugging on it slightly and grinning at the shiver you let out. “I look forward to doing business with you, dear. See you in class.”

Exiting her office, your fingers fumbled through the pockets of your jeans until they felt the post-it note, and you wondered what the hell you just got yourself into.

[screee-ee]

it sucks being a lib in the south. if you express any kind of alternate opinion to traditional MAGA beliefs, you're expected to present a friggin powerpoint explanation of everything you think and why. You're put under an immediate spotlight right then and there, and all eyes turn to you with glares of hatred. Whereas if you vomit out some trash you heard on News Max, everyone takes it at face value.

I don't know about you, but I'm not good at explaining why I think things. I sort of shut down and forget everything if someone asks me to elaborate. As such, everyone in my family thinks I'm a gullible idiot who went away to art school and "came back a lib."

I admit I used to fall for the right wing propaganda as a kid because it was literally all I had ever known, but my world view was slowly shattered throughout grade school, when I finally had access to people who helped me see the other side of things (i.e. they didn't kiss the ground George Bush walked on and didn't wish death on Obama).

It wasn't until I went away to art school that I was actually brave enough to admit that I had changed, but it sucks having your entire family think "you're not as good as you used to be" just because the "you" they used to know was a scared, intimidated kid who tried desperately to fit in in any way possible, even if that meant nodding along to things that you had a bad gut feeling about.

What I learned from it all is this: just because someone is good at arguing doesn't mean they're right, it just means they've had more practice. And that's nothing to be proud of.

[xoxoamyas]

Café Girl

rating : fluff/angst, hospitalization, and a protest mention.

wilbur x fem!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]

☆ you meet wilbur at a café you frequent. instantly, you two hit it off. after a while of talking, you randomly go no-contact only for him to find out you're in the hospital. he doesn't intend to leave your side. <3

note : n/a [ hope you enjoy :] ]

request [ ☆ ]

masterlist [ ☆ ]

⋆˙⟡

The café was your favourite. You were a regular since you had first heard of it sometime within the past year or so.

Wilbur wasn't a regular, only having recently heard of the place. He thought he'd give it a try, scope it out to see if he and his friends could film in the spot.

You were working on your laptop in a booth, studying for an upcoming test you had in one of your college courses. A few books to the side closest to the wall, your laptop right in front of you as you slowly scrolling through the materials on a PowerPoint you had been sent via email by one of your professors.

You didn't see him right away, but he saw you. He had ordered himself a refresher, lemonaid of some sort, and was looking for a place to sit. You had seemed like you had your own bubble, but that wasn't what caught his eye entirely.

Wilbur had seen the slight furrow of your brow and the light nibble on your lip before you had gone to sip on your latte.

“Excuse me, ma'am?” You looked up, focus having been broken by the voice some odd feet besides you. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

In an instant, you were taken by surprise. Having not expected someone of his stature to even talk with you. The way his brown hair was the perfect amount of fluffy and just barely in his eyes. The plain beige sweater he wore over his white collared polo. He was put together, and it was obvious.

“Uhm, sure, I don't mind.” You gave him a nervous smile, mentally degrading yourself for practically stuttering over your words. Moving slightly to fix the books to the side so that they were more organised. You made sure all of the tabs on your laptop were saved properly before shutting that, too, and resting one of your hands over the top of it.

“Thank you. What were you studying for?” He decides to ask, skipping introductions out of pure curiosity. He had seen the glimpse of a power point, but hadn't read anything on the screen out of respect for your privacy.

“Oh, nothing. Just for an upcoming test.” You shrug, watching as he had sat down across from you and practically nursed the refresher between his hands. “I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?”

“Oh, don't apologize. Should have started with that.” Wilbur lightly chuckled, having brought a hand up to nervously run along his neck. Suddenly self-conscious over the potential stubble rash that could have been along his neck. To him, you were gorgeous, and he didn't want to screw up before he had the chance to even know your name.

“I'm Wilbur, but you can call me Will, if you'd like.” He offers the hand he hadn't used to run along his neck for a handshake in proper greeting. Smiling a bit more when he hears you say your name in return to him as you shook his hand.

He repeats your name back to you, a certain smooth undertone to his voice as he does so. It nearly sent shivers up your spine, but instead, you chose to relax and practically melt.

“Do you come here often?” He asks after a moment of just taking your features in. Both of his hands now along his drink, just holding it to try and calm any rising nerves.

“Yeah, I guess I can be considered a regular. I've come here every day for a while. I don't always get anything like I used to because the entire staff here knows me.” You let out a light laugh, a small flush going over your face in embarrassment. You spent more time at the café than you did your own flat. It was just a soothing environment to be in.

“I think that's cute.” Wilbur comments with a small smile, not missing the way you subtly moved to sip your latte to hide the embarrassment on your face. “I hope you wouldn't mind if I joined you some of those days?” He asks, in hopes of getting to know you. He wanted to at least be your friend, even if in the moment all he wanted to do was take you out on a date to see if you two could click anymore than he felt you two already had.

“Oh, no, I don't mind the company at all.” You can't help but smile, that warmth flooding through your chest as you felt like there were butterflies in your stomach. “I’m usually here at about the same time every day.” He offers a smile, taking mental note of your words.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

Conversation continued on like that for a little while, just getting to know each other. He found out you had a pet cat that stayed with your parents. You found out that he likes to play the guitar and that he’s self-taught.

It goes like that for a few days up until Sunday hits. Having long exchanged numbers sometime a few days prior.

Wilbur hadn't seen you at the café like he thought he would. It made his stomach twist in discomfort, having not seen you in your usual spot with your nose in a book or tapping away at your laptop. He had asked one of the employees at first, trying to see if you were potentially there earlier but had no luck. He waited a good ten minutes at first before shooting you a text message. Leaving after a good forty minutes of waiting since he had made plans with one of his friends beforehand and couldn't stick around.

There was no sign of you Monday, nor Tuesday. Wednesday, a gnawing feeling was chewing at his gut. He had texted you a lot over the past seventy or so hours to no avail. No response after the next.

Maybe you didn't have as much interest in him as he initially thought you would have? But then you wouldn't have said yes to exchanging phone numbers or letting him sit with you. You weren't the type to lead someone on like that, and it was clear.

Thursday, he heard nothing once more. Friday, he tried calling a few different times only to end up going straight to voicemail. Had your phone been turned off or dead? You typically had it charged and available for any communication.

Saturday, he tries the café employees again. And he felt both like a weight was lifted off only to have another added right on.

Sunday, he was rushing into a hospital that had been within the area. The employee he had talked to ended up telling Wilbur you were hospitalised, yet not what for. It made him feel physically ill the moment the words processed in his mind. It had been beyond visiting hours when he initially found out, though, so he couldn't do anything anyway.

Wilbur had given your name to the front receptionist, the lady taking longer than she should have to give a room number. The second he had the number, he was rushing to find you.

He muttered a swear beneath his breath the second he reached your room, pulling his dishevelled self together before calmly as possible, opening the door. Wilbur could feel his heart simultaneously break and deflate, seeing you hooked up to a heart rate monitor as well as an IV.

Will took the seat closest to you, taking one of your hands in both of his own. A small sigh escaped his lips as he pulled your hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles of your hand.

Your lip was fairly busted paired with a black eye, what looked to be bruising along some of your neck and more sprinkled along what he could see of your arms. Your knuckles were red and fairly scraped.

It definitely wasn't good, but you were clearly tended to. It must have been bad, especially if you were potentially there since last Sunday. It made him want to simultaneously cry and put down whoever put you in this hospital bed.

“Will?” Your voice is light and hoarse, mostly on the quieter side.

“Hey, hey, don't strain yourself.” He's quick to move, gently pressing on of his hands to your shoulder to prevent you from moving to sit up. Instantly feeling bad when he sees you flinch at the motion.

“Sorry.. What's goin’ on?” You ask, words lightly slurring together. You must've been on some sort of medication to help with any pains.

“I'm not sure. One of the employees at the café told me you were hospitalised. That was it. Do you remember what happened?” His voice is soft as he asks, clearly not wanting to hash up the memory of it but not knowing was killing him. He needed to know why you looked so beat up.

“There was a protest goin’ on at my college.” You hum a bit, moving your free hand to rub at one of your eyes. Slightly flinching when your hand made contact with your eye. “Think it got out of hand.”

Wilbur can't help but sigh, brows furrowing in thought. He mutters a swear to himself, bringing your hand right back up to his mouth. His lips pressing against your knuckles once more, this time for a little bit longer.

“Go back to sleep, okay? Focus on feeling better.” He murmured out for you to hear, one of his hands moving up to gently cup your cheek. His thumb gently grazing along your skin, trying to be comforting in the moment.

Will smiles a bit when you lean into the touch, seeing you nod even the smallest amount. His heart nearly melted as he watched you close your eyes.

“I love you,” He whispered after a long moment of silence. His heart felt like it was breaking when you didn't respond, though he knew you wouldn't since it didn't take long for you to fall asleep.

Wilbur wasn't going anywhere.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 10

Part 9

Shawn tried not to think too hard about his dad and his teacher dating. He knew his family was a little different than the others. Most people had two parents. But he’d never ask for his sire to show up. Never in a million years. He still remembered how bad it got. 

It made him a little wary of Mr. Munson. He didn’t think he’d ever hit his father. But sometimes pain wasn’t physical. Even when Billy hadn’t put his hands on Steve, the yelling had been horrible too. But Steve had been in love. And there had been a time when Billy cared for him. He’d told Shawn so.

Shawn couldn’t believe it. People in love didn’t do that kind of thing. People in love did things like go out on dates, gave each other gifts and scented each other nicely.

Like how Shawn could smell Mr. Munson on his dad. He probably wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was if not by his powers of deduction. They’d been sitting on his bed, his dad reading him a bedtime story. He didn’t bring up the scent, or how it made him feel nice. He just hoped Mr. Munson would stay around a while.

“Are you and Mr. Munson in love?”

Steve fumbled with the basketball in his hands and Shawn used the opportunity to steal it from him and go for a shot. He missed, but getting a steal from his dad was still nice.

“He and I are…dating, as you know”, Steve said, grabbing the ball as it bounced his way. “I think it’s a little too soon to be using words like ‘love’.”

“He’s over here a lot”, Shawn said.

Steve didn’t know how much he should read into that. Was Shawn saying he didn’t like Eddie being around so much? Did he feel like someone else was taking time away from Steve? It was hard to tell with his son sometimes what he was thinking.

“How come you always make me go out when he’s over?”

“I don’t always-”

“I know you’re going on a date every time I have a sleepover. And I’ve been having a lot of sleepovers lately.” Shawn’s expression was a little too mature for a child his age.

“First, don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Second, I thought you liked having sleepovers.”

“I do. I just don’t know why you don’t want me around Mr. Munson. I see him all day at school.”

Steve kept his body language nonchalant while dribbling the ball. “Well that’s just it. I figured you’d be sick of him. He’s at school AND at home?” He shot and the ball went right in. 

“If I score more than you, can we get ice cream?”

“Shawn, it’s January.”

“I want chocolate with gummy bears.”

Steve was still thinking of it a few days later when he had sent Shawn on yet another sleepover while he, Eddie, and Robin got drunk and gave powerpoint presentations on a subject of their choice. Robin was about ten slides deep into one about why TV shows sucked on writing lesbians on purpose but somehow made the most compelling character chemistry on accident.

At first, he’d been sitting close to Eddie, legs in his lap, playing with his hair but Steve had learned that Eddie never sat still for long. Every few slides, he’d jump up with an interjection and Steve knew if he didn’t want to flop off the couch, he’d better not get too tangled.

Robin was very open to discussion. Heated discussion but still. Steve finally cleared his throat when they started getting closer, hands moving wildly as they argued about the sexuality of Sandy the Squirrel.

“Hey, it’s Powerpoint Night, not debate night”, Steve said.

Robin gasped. “Steve! Can we have debate night. We finally have a third party to mediate.”

“What do you guys need a mediator for?”, Eddie asked.

“She has very strong opinions on salted caramel”, Steve said. “Your turn Eddie.”

Eddie got up, his presentation popping up as he cleared his throat. “Pluto’s Planet Status: Logic vs Sentimentality….”

Robin stayed the night, taking up the guest bed while Eddie went up to Steve’s room. He’d been inside before, but it always felt momentous. A space that not many had seen before and Steve was allowing him. They collapsed next to each other, limbs tangling through the night.

The next day, they got up, making a breakfast of sausage, eggs, and other greasy things to stave off any hangover symptoms. And before Eddie left, Steve asked a favor of him.

“Do you…mind scenting some of the pillows? Not for me, but for Shawn? I want to gauge his reaction to the idea of you becoming more…permanent.”

Eddie’s eyes got wide. “Do you want me to be more permanent?”

Steve bit his lip and nodded, moving in close to scent Eddie at his neck. “You’ve always smelled like safety to me. And now…you’re starting to smell like home.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him, confirming that he felt the same. He wanted more of Steve’s scent around his own home. Eddie completed the favor, scenting the soft throw pillows on the couch. 

When Shawn got home, he had Steve spent most of the day inside, doing various things but when the sun set, they had a movie night. Steve tried not to look too giddy when Shawn grabbed one of the pillows and held it to his chest, nose pressed to it. His body language may have been neutral, but the happiness must’ve shown in his scent because Shawn started to cuddle up to him. His omega hindbrain was filled with thoughts he hadn’t allowed for a long time.

Good alpha. Safe. Perfect alpha. Perfect for pup. Need to scent pup. Need him scented by both. 

That was all Steve needed to move things up to the next step. He enacted it when picking Shawn up from school one day. He was mindful not to take up too much of Eddie’s time during dismissal, but Eddie always assured Steve that he’d rather talk to him than the other parents.

“What if you’ve got something important to tell them?”

“That’s what emails are for. And really, how many times can I say ‘your kid cried because someone looked at them’ or ‘ they’re chattier than a telemarketer’?”

Steve figured some things about being a teacher didn’t change all that much between the age groups. He built up his nerves to ask the question. He had already asked Shawn if it was okay and his pup was more than happy about it.

“You know, Shawn’s birthday is coming up soon. We usually go out and do whatever he wants. And we were wondering if you wanted to tag along?”

Eddie looked between them both, mouth agape and looking like he wanted to jump for joy, hug them both, and blast off like a rocket all at once. It really made Steve want to kiss him in front of all these people, parents, teachers and all.

“Hell yeah-I mean, y-yeah”, Eddie stuttered when he remembered where he was.

Shawn looked elated too and things couldn’t be more right.

And of course, that was when things started going wrong.

Part 11

Tags

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre

[animentality]

not to be a boomer, but I do worry about the current generation of kids being raised with iPads.

first off. some of them literally can't hold a pencil because their parents never gave them physical toys to grip and play with, developing their fine motor skills.

you might ask why do we even need to learn how to write physically anymore- well, frankly, because if you're stranded on an island somewhere and you need to write HELP, you might not have the strength to hold a pencil, but you can at least hold a stick.

but on a more general note.

writing by hand helps you remember things better. it forces you to focus in a way that typing something word for word does not. a person can transcribe what a professor says without even thinking about it.

someone writing notes has to consider what to write and what to omit. it also activates more parts of your brain, forcing you to flex the parts of your brain related to learning and communicating, while also engaging the part of your brain dedicated to muscle control and precision.

but in general, I think the issue isn't even oh technology is bad and kids are getting dumber.

you can have PowerPoints AND take physical notes. that could help you learn even better than the olden days where you just had to remember everything that was thrown at you. or read very limited, out of date books.

the problem is that the generation that raised/is raising this generation of children just doesn't understand the true impact that all this technology will have on their kids. or they just don't care.

because our generation had the internet yes, but it wasn't widely accessible for most of us, sharing our computers with the entire family in the kitchen. it was also the internet in its infancy, where it wasn't quite so predatory, when it was lawless and disturbing, yes, but it wasn't weaponized by corporations trying to sell you things and steal your data, it wasn't flooded with bots and ai and all sorts of things that the human brain can't even distinguish as real or fake, especially when you're just a little kid.

that generation still played with physical toys. we celebrated when it snowed and we could stay home.

we also came from a gen that still, vaguely, cared about some form of community and had third spaces for kids to hang out.

90s children, who still had some memories of both playing outside on a playground and playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo 64 with their friends, who both went out to the mall and had a club penguin account.

we grew up with laptops and smart boards. maybe some of us had them in high school or college, but we still physically went to class and developed relationships. learned uncomfortable things about ourselves and others, the way humans do.

met new people and were exposed to new ideas, away from our parents. but not from some fucking influencer trying to sell us Sephora products.

we had to study for things, instead of just being able to Google shit for some bullshit online test.

which is also something that really concerns me. so many kids today can so easily Google answers for every test, and while tests don't ultimately matter in the real world, they still provide some basis for things that do matter.

like I'm just imagining medical students googling how to perform an appendectomy on the day of, and just using a YouTube tutorial to guide them through, and shuddering.

there are some things that the Internet can't teach you.

there always will be.

but I don't think my generation is really helping their kids find the balance that we were given naturally growing up.

the boomers and gen xers had fist fights and we had bullying someone online until they committed suicide.

and now kids use AI to spread fake nudes of girls.

but the laws haven't caught up with a lot of this stuff yet, and certainly won't while we have dinosaurs running our government. and culture takes even longer to change than laws.

I also worry because I know how badly covid affected kids worldwide. how they struggle to read and do math, because remote learning just isn't good for kids.

and I can't even blame them!! I literally teleworked for 4 years and even I can admit that I'm not nearly as good at focusing at home as I am in the office.

it's hard for kids with social anxiety and disabilities, yes I know, I know, trust me, I have social anxiety, and as a hybrid worker ATM, I highly doubt I'd be able to handle 5 days a week in the office.

but it's also not particularly good for kids to stay home ALL the time, entertaining themselves in their room and never being challenged, and never meeting people other than their parents.

the iPad is more of a symbol of that problem than the direct problem.

if your entire... world view is limited to what you can see on your iPad... I mean what a terrible world view you'll have.

you're a 10 year old using TikTok and all you ever see is the same opinion over and over until you can scarcely comprehend people who have an opposing opinion.

you see fake videos that seem so real. that must be real, and so comforting, aren't they, those videos that seem so real?

you let 30 year old influencers who are trying to grift people shape your world view.

and it's not even your fault.

your parents aren't doing anything to help you.

you're young and you're being barraged with entertainment and fake educational videos and how to guides that accidentally create mustard gas in your toilet.

your parents should be teaching you to find a balance between these things. they should be telling you what's real and caution you about the things you see.

they should limit your fucking time on the iPad actually. take you to a fucking park and let you roll in the mud or some shit.

and then when you're a teenager and a young adult, then you can start deciding for yourself what you believe.

but a lot of these weird millennial/gen z parents, man. just let your 1 year old scroll through vids on TikTok while you don't even talk to them or look at them once.

maybe it's because they don't see the harm in it, but I don't get it.

adults can watch TikTok all day and know, ahhh this is bad for me. I'm not doing anything I actually want to be doing.

adults can see other adults doing dumb shit and say ah you're sponsored. someone paid you money to say and do that. silly.

but kids are just kids.

they don't have discipline and frankly, that's not their responsibility. that is yours.

you should be teaching them that they can't have everything in life at their finger tips at all times, actually.

the iPad doesn't solve all of your problems, nor will it think critically for you.

so I worry about if humanity can really keep up with its own technology.

our species is still in its infancy, believe it or not.

so maybe these are just growing pains, and future generations will be able to look back on this era and know the proper balance.

but as someone living in 2024.

I wonder just how much pain is left before we really mature and either make it or break it.