#swaggers technologies

[markkiatocafe]

johnjaemark roommate texts

𖠚 warnings: quite a bit of cursing (“damn,” “sybau ts pmo,” “ass,” “fuck”), mention of period products (tampons), mentions of a cold (idk if this rlly warrants a warning but uhhhh yeah)

𖠚 synop: johnjaemark being typical men…. basically

𖠚 pairing: she/her!reader x roommate!johnjaemark

𖠚 a/n: this is short but it was so fun to make oml…… i hope you all enjoy this one (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) its quite silly but im all for the silly stuff!!!!! also i tried to not be too biased with my mark inclusions but uh…..it is called a bias for a reason 😭so i do apologize for that if i put him too much lol </3

[keehomania]

wearing my nct shirt to the gynecologist tomorrow so she knows i'm not sexually active without having to ask

[nekonaps0]

Girly pop your writing is immaculate. Don't stress, cause you got that dawg in you. :D

Also can I be known as Idia anon? Cause I ask for him the majority of the time. :>

So my request-

Actually I didn't check if you were accepting any...

I got too overjoyed, sorry :(

So incase you are taking requests--

House wardens dealing with a reader who's from like...the 1900s, so she's really bad with anything technology related.

Um anyway have a good day!!

You from the 1900s !?!?

✦characters: House warden

✦ gn!reader

Thank you so much! I’m trying my best!^^

And yes the requests are open!

And OMFG I LOVED WRITING THIS! I had so much fun writing it!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has no patience for breaking rules… unless it’s you.

He watches you poke suspiciously at a tablet, muttering something about how

“this strange mirror-box must be possessed.”

You nearly scream when the screen flickers.

“It’s not a cursed object!” he snaps. “It’s just a MagiTab! Everyone uses them nowadays!”

But when he sees the genuine confusion on your face, he exhales and sits beside you.

“It’s okay. I’ll teach you. Just don’t touch any random buttons. And absolutely don’t try to boil it in a kettle again.”

He ends up patiently writing out a guide for you in fountain pen ink because “it feels more familiar to you.” You keep it folded in your coat pocket like a love letter.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona groans when you stare at the washing machine like it’s going to explode.

“Herbivore, it's not gonna bite you.” You shoot him a dry look.

“We didn’t even have electricity in half the town I grew up in. This thing looks like a metal beast.”

He’s lazy, sure, but he ends up tossing his book aside and swaggering over.

“You put the clothes in, close the lid, hit the button. Boom. Magic. Now stop actin’ like it’s a damn ritual.”

You squint at the buttons. “Which one’s the ‘start’?”

“…You know what, move. I’ll do it. You’re gonna break something.”

But secretly, he likes it. It makes him smirk seeing how wide-eyed you get at the simplest things—like it’s all new magic. He tells Ruggie to record your first time using a microwave “just for the laughs.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is delighted.

You’re from the 1900s? You have no idea how phones, networks, or cameras work? Oh, what a dream client.

“I see… so, if I offered you a little contract that would instantly teach you how to operate all current-day magical tech…”

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

Azul pushes his glasses up. “No catch! Only a… minor magical pledge of servitude—er, assistance! For educational purposes only.”

But you’re stubborn. You refuse. So, instead, he ends up painstakingly drawing diagrams and holding tech history lectures just for you. Floyd laughs at him for it.

“You’re such a nerd for them, Shrimpy’s like a time traveler and you’re still blushing!”

Azul glares, but doesn’t deny it.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim thinks you’re amazing. You’re like a walking, talking history book! He once finds you trying to light a candle with flint and steel because “electricity is unreliable.” You flinch when the lights flicker.

“WHOA! You’re like… ancient…cool!” he gasps, stars in his eyes.

He insists on giving you the tour of the century he teaches you how to use smartphones by letting you decorate his with beads and charms. He even buys you a flip phone

“because it’s got buttons! You like buttons, right?!”

When you confuse the intercom with a telephone, he goes along with it and starts calling you over it like it’s a telegram line.

You both get in trouble for yelling into the hallway speaker system. He just laughs it off and offers to help you write your first email like it’s a royal decree.

Vil Schoenheit

You nearly faint the first time you see yourself in a selfie camera. You swat the phone out of your hand and scream.

Vil just blinks. “Dear, that’s not black magic. That’s your reflection. Honestly, you look rather radiant—”

He catches the phone before it hits the floor and sighs dramatically.

“You’re going to give me gray hairs.”

At first, he finds it exasperating until he realizes how refreshingly natural you are. No filters, no tech addiction, no social media dependence.

He starts calling you his “timeless darling,” and he adores how you prefer letters to texts. Vil even plan a classic-style photoshoot: vintage clothes, candlelight. It goes viral.

He won’t admit it, but he’s charmed by your innocence.

Idia Shroud

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

You don’t know what a smartphone is? You don’t have a favorite game? You’ve never even seen an anime?!

Idia short-circuits.

At first, he’s horrified. You stare at his glowing screens like they’re cursed runes. You once asked Ortho if he was a ghost.

“You’re like… a time traveler NPC,” he mutters, nearly spiraling. “No firmware update… no RAM… Y-you don’t even know what a meme is!”

But then…

He starts showing you all his favorite things. One by one. Old-school games, slow-burn anime, classic consoles. He sets up a CRT monitor just so it’s “authentic” to your time. You think the pixel art is “darling.”

It becomes your thing: old meets new. You even help him write a game based on “your era.”

You don’t get half the references, but you love his excited rants.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus… doesn’t think you’re strange at all.

You shyly explain your fear of cell phones, how the “mirror network” feels eerie, how magic-infused technology makes your skin crawl.

He just smiles, serene.

“I can’t agree more, you don’t have to worry about those dear” he says gently.

When you accidentally burn toast in the toaster and start panicking like you’ve summoned a fire demon, Malleus calmly puts it out.

“It’s only toast.”

He takes your hand and teaches you to send letters with magic, introduces you to enchanted paper that writes itself, and listens truly listens when you talk about your old world.

He even arranges a ballroom evening for you, with string quartets and vintage dancing. No phones. No electricity. Just you, stars, and a smile that makes you feel right at home.

..............................................................................................................................

[beuxwhoyouare]

Monster vs. Monster

you might wanna read this & this first

Riley was finishing up his routine optimized to maintain his physique. Almost as if programmed, he whipped out his phone to take a picture of himself to send to Jordan for a status update.

“Nearly complete with workout routine, day 365.”

Riley stood awaiting a response as he slowly realized it had been a year now. A year since he officially took over a human body. Going from technological innovation to perverse defilement of human nature. Jordan programmed an A.I. capable of transferring to a human consciousness and Riley was proof of it. Sure the real Riley had to be “phased out” but it was worth it for science right? Right?

Riley hit one year of being human and what did he have to show for it? Sure he maintained the look and routine of sexual gratification Jordan programmed to do but what about going past that? Being human means no bounds, no limits.

Riley never used to have thoughts like this, well he never really did many things until he finally did. Then a lightbulb, he didn’t have to DO anything. That was the last text he was ever going to send to Jordan. Riley was going to do what he WANTED to.

Riley returned home after showering at the gym and quickly searched for a new outfit, hurrying to avoid a run in with Jordan. He threw a semi-decent outfit on and fled. He was going to live life recklessly like all the humans do. He didn’t have to worry himself with the thoughts of a panicked Jordan trying to track him down, because he owned the scientist nothing.

Part of the last years efforts assimilating into humanity was maintaining Riley’s life. So thankfully he wasn’t broke since he continued working and fled to a nearby hotel. He’d camp here until he figured out his next move. Recklessness was the game, but how would he spend his first chances at normal humanity.

Clubs glorious clubs. If Jordan felt the need to force him to pleasure him surely he could find that from actually attractive people there. Stimulation was the epitome of recklessness. Riley entered the nearest club with swarms of people and made his way to the bar.

“Hi um can I have. Uh. Well I’m not sure.” Riley asked confidently at first before being defeated by his naivety.

The bartender just looking him up and down and winked and went to work. Eventually handing him a glass with cherries and an ambiguous liquor. Instead of over analyzing the cocktail, Riley lifted the glass and downed the drink in one go. The bartender turned away to address another customer before turning back to catch the man he deemed as eye candy shocked that he finished the drink so fast. Deciding to just full send it and make him another one, in the hopes it would pay off later.

Riley began to feel warm thanks to the cocktails and as he approached getting tipsy a smile graced his conventionally attractive face. The gays in the club eyeing up the newly swaggering young man as he slinked his way to the dance floor. The presumptive men kept notioning and tugging on articles of his clothing insinuating he should take them off. His mindset drifted back to being more human as he allowed himself to take off his shirt and allowed the men around him to lower his pants.

Now in a suggestive mood, some began taking pictures with him offering to buy him drinks and more. That’s when he ran into someone that caught his attention.

Ken walked into the club with several others and was greeted by some lips, a daunting chest, and a slutty waist adorned with cobbled abs. The short but amicably muscled Latino eyed Riley like a piece of meat, maybe because that’s all he was to him at first. The formerly lanky grey alien only stole this human appearance a few weeks ago but was eagerly continuing his mission to learn more about this planet and its inhabitants. He had been living up the human experience, some may also say he’d been a bit promiscuous. Humans were so distracting if anything. They always wanted more and he was happy to oblige with his stolen equipment.

The two men locked eyes, both believing that each other would help them in their missions somehow. Ken confidently strided towards the tipsy Riley surrounded by thirsting gay men.

“Do you want to head out with me?” the shorter man inquired.

“Um yes that would be…nice?” Riley stumbled with his words fighting the alcoholic influence on his motor abilities.

Ken took Riley’s hand and swiftly guided him out of the club. The two walked for a while before getting into a cab and heading to Ken’s place. The pair entered a thrashed apartment with stuff everywhere but that was nothing compared to how messy they were. The two were rubbing their hands clumsily all over each other, physically exploring each others swollen bodies.

Ken was on a mission to take over the world but Riley just wanted to be human. Riley had only ever been with Jordan and took the moment to experience new things with Ken’s body. He turned the smaller man over and yanked his pants down as he began to eat him out. In his weeks as Ken, the alien hadn’t yet done this human activity yet and it sent him over the edge. His dark brown eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as Riley’s tongue explored him into pleasure. Ken decided not to steal Riley’s for JUST yet as he continued to fall into pleasure.

Riley had a mental to-do list as a human and he started running through it with Ken. Exploring the limits of what you can do in bed, multiple times. Over an hour later the two fell down onto Ken’s bed breatheless and sore, in the best ways.

Ken felt something in the moment. It could have been the back and forth flipping they’ve been doing all night but he almost felt an affinity for the man he just met. He was in the honeymoon phase of the hookup, a first for the alien. He didn’t know what to do with the feelings and swung an arm over the sleeping Riley and spooned him.

The nightly exchange of fluids and that feeling in Ken’s alien stomach was more than they expected. It was a ritual from Ken’s world that he wasn’t even aware of. The two began to swap forms as pheromones from Ken’s form began to secrete over night as they slept. But it was an uneven exchange. Underneath the guise of being human Ken was still alien anatomically, while Riley was an A.I. driving a real human.

Riley was the first to wake up the next morning and was immediately greeted with a change when he tried to quietly swing his legs off the bed to not disturb Ken. His feet were shorter and significantly lighter complected. He gasped as he hurriedly walked over to the restroom mirror.

He had only known two existences his original digital form and Riley’s body. He smugly watched himself as he lifted his shirt to explore Ken’s body, before realizing things were different. He poked and proded at himself but realized internally he felt way different than Riley. As he tried to stretch and contract muscles he felt way more control of things than when inside Riley.

He explored more before pretending to be Ken and getting ready for an ambiguous day ahead. After brushing his new teeth, he turned around nearly screaming as he saw his old body looking down on him.

God, his first human body was so fine he could feel himself getting turned on, which also felt different but he wasn’t sure why. He launched at the now taller man and began to make out with him. But as they made out Riley felt something pulling. He was so into the moment he didn’t think about it and when he finally was ready to pull away and begin questioning Ken about what happened another thing scared the A.I. man. He pulled away and asked.

“Okay okay what happen…huh why do I sound?”

The alien body sounded just like his old body but how!? As Ken tried to speak he realized what Riley had just done and the new situation they were in. Ken and Riley spent the rest of the evening texting each other their whole background, from A.I. to human and alien to “human”.

When the two finished, they shared their first organic human laughs, albeit one being inaudible. Both sitting and staring at each other in the eyes trying to read what their next moves were. Riley going in to plunge another kiss on Ken. The devious pair could conquer the world but for now they’ll settle on conquering each others new bodies.

[rottenpumpkin13]

In the Ever Crises game. There's a Cait Sith outfit that you can buy with in-game jewels. And the outfit is him and Mog wearing a stereotype hip hop gangster outfit! Complete with a backwards baseball cap and bling!

And this would go PERFECTLY to imagine that Reeves took Reno's advice on what he believes that kids like.

Reeve: Hey, Reno, you seem like the kind of guy who's in touch with what the youths are into these days, right?

Reno: Uh... sure?

Reeve: I'm looking for ways to make myself—and my work—more appealing to the younger crowd. You know, get the kids excited about technology.

Reno: Oh yeah, easy. Just... I dunno, listen to whatever's hot on the radio? Teens love that Top 40 crap.

Reeve: Brilliant! Thanks, Reno.

(The next day)

Tseng: Reno. Do you, by any chance, know why Reeve has undergone a spontaneous transformation?

Reno: Ohh, I gave him a few tips on reaching a younger demographic, that's all. Maybe he's just embracing the vibe?

Tseng: You have doomed us all.

Reno: Huh? How bad could it be—

*Cait Sith swaggers into the room in full hip-hop gear: backwards cap, giant gold chain, sunglasses too big for his tiny face*

Cait Sith: YO YO YO, LADS, WHAT'S POPPIN', WEE BIT A TECHNOLOGY, WEE BIT A SWAG, AYE!!!

Reno: !?!??

Tseng: This is hell. We live here now.

[deadonyouraccount]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Criston Cole/You

WC: 2k

Tags: PWP, modern Westeros setting, Yeah we’re fucking cops🤡, infidelity, vague vague mentions of verbal abuse, quickie, car sex, age difference, but Criston’s 23 forever, pnv!sex, v!fingering, slight softness that came outta nowhere, dominant cris, whole ass messy situation but hey you came!

A/N: Dedicated to my colewives mwah mwah

You stood next to the car, frowning as you stared at the stop sign denting the front. Should’ve known, you thought. Your boyfriend was in the back of a cop car, getting ready to spend a lovely night in jail. They said the captain of the precinct was coming by.

You were in a different part of King’s Landing, in Uni at KLU on a night out with your boyfriend, trying to use a “date night” to patch up the shitty state of things. You were supposed to be DD. Alas, he insisted, no screaming at you he was fine. Now the car was lodged against the stop sign.

Another vehicle pulled up, giving the go-ahead to take your boyfriend to the drunk tank. You leaned against the car, arms crossed, frowning.

You weren’t sure why a captain would waste his time addressing a stupid accident in a practically desolate part of the city, but you were growing nervous about getting home and it was too close to Flea Bottom for your comfort.

He got out of the car, squinting under the low lights of the small street. He walked with a swagger, stiff shoulders but a rolling gait. You straightened up, grabbing your purse to provide insurance and your card. Your boyfriend was too belligerent to help.

“Have you been drinking ma’am?” He inquired with a low rasp. You looked up at the man, making eye contact with dark eyes. He was older, but handsome— looked Dornish but had that brusque Stormlander accent.

You replied, shaking your head, “No. I was supposed to drive. My boyfriend took the keys, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Couldn’t call a friend?” He asked, a subtle smugness across his features, curved lips turned up at the corners. You sighed, exasperated, but you weren’t going to mouth off. KLU’s police department wasn’t known for being particularly friendly, especially in the seedier areas and around the bars.

“No sir, he was pissed, I got overwhelmed. I’m not drunk. I go to school here and my car is screwed.”

He walked past you, his broad shoulder grazing your own. The cop looked at the front of the vehicle, a nasty little laugh filling the relative silence. You turned to face him, brows furrowing.

“He couldn’t see straight. I don’t know.”

“You should’ve called someone.”

You huffed, aggravated with his attitude, “And just let my boyfriend drive off in my car, officer?”

He stood up, leveling you with a look. He walked closer, filling up your space. You could see the stars on his shining badge, the name ‘Cole’ across his breast. The captain murmured, “Yep. He sounds like a real charmer.”

Cole took a look at you, then at the car as his jaw worked. He smelled like expensive cologne. Your eyes darted to the ring on his left hand. He spoke again, “Well, the vehicle is in your name. We’ll put the charges on him, but it’s your car. You need to call a tow while I file your insurance.”

You nodded, handing him the requested items.

You called the tow while he sauntered back to the cruiser, punching buttons into whatever technology they had. You almost wanted to cry at the price of the service, reading your card, pissed off.

Stupid boyfriend, stupid you, stupid asshole cop.

The captain was back, spooking you, his calloused hand holding out your belongings. You grabbed them, stuffing them back in your purse. “They’ll be here in forty-five. I need to call my roommate.”

He stared, jaw working again before speaking.

“I’ll give you a ride. You’re on campus?”

You nodded, unsure of this man. He was of the law, but there was something about the way the older man looked at you. The dark-haired man hummed, “It’s Criston. Don’t worry, there’s no charge for a ride. Come on, you look like you’re going to fall over.”

You relented, following him to the cruiser, eyeing his frame. He was handsome. You couldn’t help but notice. Maybe it was the sheer anger at your boyfriend. Criston seemed aloof, probably just being nice. Yet the stare.

You climbed into the other side of his vehicle, buckling in. He looked at you, taking his hat off, short curling hair underneath, some greys at the temples. It smelled like leather, cologne, and something distinct of the man.

“We need to wait until the tow. Shit part of town you’re in, love,” he rasped.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed, earning a humored huff from the stoic cop.

His arm moved around the back of your seat, legs stretching out as he got comfortable. You thought about the wedding band again, eyes flicking around the car. Criston was looking at you.

“How old are you? Too damn precious to be with a boy who wrecks your car.”

You blushed, mumbling, “Twenty-one.” He was hitting on you. Seven hells. The attention was nice, all things considered. Your belly tightened as you felt a pull towards this cop who was married and much older than you, regardless of his youthful appearance.

“Twenty-one. Hm. I was just a rookie then,” he said, a thoughtful note to his raspy voice.

“You’re married,” you stated, the words bubbling out.

“Yeah. I am. Got step-kids too,” he said, looking at you. Criston held your gaze until you looked away, heart beginning to pump. He shrugged, adding, “Can’t say it’s a pleasant marriage. She doesn’t care, I’d wager.”

He licked his lips. You made a soft noise, peering back up.

“We’ve got forty minutes now. Why don’t we make good use of the time, get your mind off of that little boy.”

His arm slid around your shoulders, hand squeezing your bare shoulder. You swallowed, voice weak as you questioned.

“Are you- you mean?”

He laughed, a derisive snort more than anything as he smiled, pretty teeth glinting in the low light. Criston looked at you, amused, his tone patronizing.

“You know what I mean sweetheart, c’mere, I can tell you need it.”

You didn’t listen to the voice in your head screaming no, climbing over into his lap, lips pressing to his. One of his hands slid around your back, pressing you close, the other sliding the seat back. He groaned, tilting his head to get deeper.

Your arms laid across his shoulders, bent awkwardly. You didn’t care, tongue sliding against his, the stubble of his jaw pricking delightfully. Both of Criston’s hands slid up and down your waist, sliding under your crop top as he lapped into your mouth.

You whimpered, pressing closer, shivering helplessly as his calloused palms gripped at your tits, tenderly kneading, thumbs sliding across your stiff nipples.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, panting against his mouth. Criston hummed, kissing down your jaw and throat, his cock growing full and thick underneath you. You rolled your hips, desire clouding your mind as you adjusted your arms, one hand in his short hair.

Criston grunted, growling against your tender throat, plucking at your peaks until they ached, the sensation drawing down to your pussy, connected by a string of pleasure. He murmured, “Needy little thing, someone hasn’t been taking of you huh?”

You whined, babbling, “Yes, yes, it’s no good, want you, please.”

You could feel his grin, a playful nip to your pulse point as his hands unbuttoned your shorts, you shifting up so he could jerk them down, underwear included. His lips were back on yours, tongue lazily dancing while he unbuttoned his belt, grunting when he undid the fly.

“You want me right here baby?” Criston rumbled, pulling your hand to palm his thick cock with a pleased groan, his pretty lips falling open. You nodded, begging, “Yeah, please sir, need it.”

“Sir,” he repeated, dark eyes peering at your debauched look. “You’re sweet, you know that? Just needed a little attention and you’re squirming in my lap, calling me sir.”

You whimpered as embarrassment crested, warbling, “I’m not like this- I swear.”

“I know, you’re just a little…deprived, baby.”

His fingers slid between your thighs, dipping into your soaked cunt, the heel of his palm rubbing your swollen clit. You cried out, lashes fluttering as he stretched you, playfully swiping up to make you moan or squirm.

“So wet, such a good girl aren’t you?”

You buried your head against his neck, losing your sense. Criston’s presence was strong, overwhelming, and the sound of your pussy getting fucked by his fingers was the cherry on top. He pet your back, almost soothing.

“I want you, oh gods, I want you, I’m a good girl,” you begged, voice cracking with need. You shivered as his fingers slid out of you, whining at the empty feeling. Criston brought them to his lips, sucking on his fingers with a deep groan.

You couldn’t take it anymore, hand darting down to pull his thick cock out, pumping a few times for good measure, Criston’s head falling back with a throaty noise. His hands moved to your hips, letting you guide him into your slick cunt.

“Fuck sweetheart,” he gasped, heaving a breath as you eased onto him. It didn’t take long for you to lose your bravado— you felt full to the brim with his prick, a bolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. You gripped his shoulders, thighs weakened and twitching as you could feel him pulsing, rubbing your sensitive walls.

Criston moaned, dark and filthy, grinning as he rasped, “Yeah. That’s what’cha needed. Gods you feel good, I’ve got you.”

His hips snapped up, eliciting a cry from your lips, hands digging into his shoulders. Criston adjusted his grip, fucking up into you quickly, cock rubbing deep into your pussy, building molten friction with every thrust. He was panting against your neck, focused on getting every drop of pleasure, mumbling here and there.

You were much louder, soft cries leaving your swollen lips as the captain fucked you. Your stomach was tight, growing tighter with each frantic snap of Criston’s hips. The car was growing humid, your hair sticking to your neck as you began to peak.

One of your hands snaked down, only to get swatted away, Criston’s voice snapping you out of the haze.

“No, I get this,” he said, brown eyes meeting yours, holding your attention as his thumb slid teasingly around where he was splitting you, making up to your clit to swipe at the tender bundle in quick flicks.

You could feel your eyes rolling back, lashes fluttering as your thighs tightened up, back arching as your cunt clamped down on Criston’s prick, squeezing him in waves as you cried and carried on, ecstasy spreading across your nerves. He made a soft noise, moaning, “Fuck, you on BC?”

You nodded, Criston’s mouth on your shoulder, hoarse moans as his cock swelled, filling you up with a rough thrust into you. He gripped your hips, hard, giving them a final squeeze as the man laid back in the seat, a pleased look on his face.

You looked around for a napkin or cloth, Criston handing you a shirt from seemingly out of nowhere, hissing with you as you eased off his softening prick. You cleaned up the best you could, pulling up your underwear and shorts, and buttoning them.

He did the same once you climbed off his lap, the cop quiet. He heard something on the radio, a frown on his pretty lips. He looked over at you, his voice surprisingly gentle as he pointed out the truck. The tow truck was pulling up now, you were glad— but too fucked out to care. Your legs felt like jelly.

Criston waited as the car was taken off to a shop, then turned the car on, the stagnant energy in the car lessening with the AC. He drove a couple of blocks before speaking, dark eyes swiveling around as he reached over to rest a warm hand on your thigh.

You looked down at his hand, mulling over the whole encounter.

“Do I need to call the emergency line to get you, sir?”

He laughed, more genuine this time. Criston shrugged, replying, “It’s Criston, but best not. Unless you plan on making up a heinous crime every week. You want my number?” He seemed surprised, a little disheartening for you.

He was a married scumbag who just fucked you in his work vehicle. Who knows who else he’d done the same to?

“Yeah, I do,” you said.

The sign for the University came into view, and you almost didn’t want to leave, you’d miss his hand on you. Criston hummed, “You have to pick up your ‘boyfriend’ tomorrow anyways, yeah?”

“He can catch a cab,” you said, still bitter.

“Good girl,” Cole said, grinning again, squeezing your thigh playfully.

You left with a hastily scrawled number and a pleasant ache between your thighs. There was no telling, but his long look and soft goodbye lingered. You put the slip on your nightstand back to your apartment on campus, ignoring the strange look from your roommate.

“Criston Cole,” you murmured in the quiet atmosphere of your room, smiling to yourself.

The man himself couldn’t get you out of his head. He frowned, eyeing the ring on his hand. He knew he sounded like a middle aged loser, puppy eyes for a damn girl almost less than half his age, leaning over as the precious dove got out on shaky legs. Criston groaned, recalling the way he had said goodbye to you so desperately, “Hey. Really, text me sometime.”

He said your name softly to himself, sighing.

[deerdogs]

hi <- girl who really wants to yap about some of her smpl/dsmp/esmp world building and continuity. a lot of yapping under cut. Nobody gaf but whatever

i’m that one friend that’s too c!sam so im shoving him here. but for those who don’t know tldr. c!sam has actually been alive for like centuries he just found a way to clone his body to be immortal (memory is still mortal so doesn’t remember obviously). he was friends with c!phil who stopped being friends w him over his morally dubious immortality scheme. but anyways. original sam (sam prime) was alive during like medieval ish times as seen by that scene w c!phil. annnndd what’s a morally grey inventor without a little robot buddy to help him. hence he made swagger ! little analog steampunk robot fella. skip ahead a bit when sam prime put himself in the tube status chamber thing.. swagger was left alone. i like to think that kristen felt bad that phil just abandoned this kid over the immortality thing instead of trying to keep helping him see the right way so she kept watch over sam. saw the Robot fella abandoned and felt bad soooo she gave him a soul and consciousness….. Bc what the hell, sure

while he can function/move on his own bc of the soul, he still keeps his more mechanical parts in tact and working bc they help him move better and more precise given he only recently gained consciousness and has never had to Move a body before. fun fact his head can be screwed off and moved around… especially if he needs to look under something to work on or fix it. he can just Pop that thing right off and shove it under to get a better look. same w moving it up given he’s not the tallest. he usually has the create wrench on his ‘tail’/extra appendage but can switch it out for a lot of things (sword pick etc). the bandages are both so he doesn’t get asked as many questions about his robot bits and also to help protect them rain/water given atp he hasn’t had many upgrades to help with that (changes that more towards sdmp)

my esmp timeline and worldbuilding stuff is kind of a lot so it would need a bigger yap Buuuut . in my mind it takes place in the middle of dsmp it’s just . a separate world/realm created by the void to foster conflict and death to feed itself. a lot of different ppl from allll around invited/sucked into it. functions kind of similar to the watchers from hermits stuff. also to see if certain people make the same mistakes they’ve made… hence revived schlatt just for this world. he goes back to limbo after but yknow. bc he’s forcefully revived by the void and didn’t have a heart it. Made one For him which has Some effect on his capacity for being a normal nice individual. Not that he was much of one already but. Yknow.

also important bit abt that. void messed w ppls memories when it brought them there bc it’s supposed to be. a fresh new start thing (which is why they have to like Discover technology with create) without any previous biases besides slight recognition of people and fuzzy and general memories. (why ted doesn’t remember smpl void stuff). swagger is the only one who has memory bc he’s. Yknow. Not a human or mortal in any sense. he obviously thinks it’s a bit weird that certain ppl are acting different and can’t remember him as well as he can them but.. he kinda just shrugs it off 😭

ted is supposed to be like this avatar for the void that helps start conflict and instigate death (like when ted basically convinced minx and weston to go kill swagger for no reason) soooo Yeah he’s a Normal well adjusted fella.

there’s more but my fingers are cramping bc i just played guitar for like 2 hours so. The yapperrrrrrr

[tvlandofficiall]

understandable. tenna is easy to fluster and gets Very attached Very quickly meanwhile queen swatch n spamton are each on levels of divorce and confidence that would kill the unprepared

ABSOLUTELY! a part of why i liked queen/swatch/spamton initially was the dynamic of this outsider trying to fit into this group of people who are "beyond him" in a sense. i really like dynamics and stories like that. but tenna is an outsider to that dynamic – not as an ordinary joe like spamton was, but in another way; an old object, an old form of technology, one growing more obsolete in both regards every day. to tenna (and i would imagine to many darkners outside of spamton's inner circle) spamton was a rags-to-riches success story, someone who got his own place in the queen's mansion, who got up close and personal with her head butler, who lapped up the attention of the lightners with the cockiness and swagger of someone who was created for it. so there's this extra layer to it that's just incredibly compelling; tenna's spending a lot of his time around these high-tech, ultra-modern, larger-than-life personalities, and to top it all off, there are three of them. it's no wonder that of the darkners it seems like he knew, "the laptop" seems to be what he's must hung up on. and knowing those three's personalities in particular, why wouldn't anyone get swept away?

[babyfacebuttercup]

The New King

A/N: heyyyyy long time no see everyone! This is just a taste of something since I haven’t been on here in so long. If it’s bad just let me know and I’ll make some changes! But I do have more coming

The new king of Wakanda had taken over, and it was clear he enjoyed his new position. Seated on the throne carved from ancient stone and obsidian, Erik Killmonger leaned back with ease, one leg slung over the other as if the seat had been made for him alone. His eyes swept across the council chamber with slow calculation, watching each elder in silence, his presence heavy and unignorable.

One of the elder council members, a dignified woman with silver braids and a robe stitched in the royal colors, stood with her chin high and her voice firm. “Now that you are king of Wakanda, what do you plan on doing? We must preserve what we have in our lands, or others will wage war on us.” She sat slowly, her words settling like smoke in the room. The other elders shifted in their seats, casting curious, cautious glances at him. Making the man before them more confident than before.

Erik clapped his hands once, the sound echoing like a drumbeat in the quiet chamber. He rose to his feet with a confident swagger, his golden war vest catching the light as he stood tall before the council.“Well, I’m glad you asked,” he said, spreading his arms with casual authority. “I want to arm my people. Our people. With tools. With weapons. With protection.”

He began to walk, slow and deliberate, circling the chamber like a panther stalking its prey. “Y’all don’t see what we could do with Vibranium. It could change lives. Out there, our people are dying, suffering, struggling just to survive. And we sit here on a mountain of power, hidden behind fear and tradition.”

Erik stopped in the center, eyes burning with intensity, challenging them to speak against him. The elders murmured amongst themselves, some shifting uncomfortably, others clearly intrigued.

From the edge of the room, a calm voice broke through the noise like cool water poured over fire. (Y/N), the royal adviser, stepped forward with silent grace, the hem of her dark blue robes trailing behind her like mist. Her chin was lifted and her eyes locked directly on Erik’s.

“Change is inevitable, Your Majesty,” she said evenly, her voice like polished steel. “But chaos disguised as revolution is still chaos. To arm the people without a plan is to ignite a fire you may not be able to put out.”The room fell still again. All eyes turned to her, then to the new king.

Erik tilted his head, the cocky edge in his smile fading as he studied her face. The energy between them shifted, invisible but palpable. She walked toward the center, her steps steady, her hands clasped calmly in front of her. “Wakanda has remained strong because of its unity,” she continued, now facing the elders as well as the king.

“If you want to share our power, then it must be done with precision, not pride. We can build a better world. But we must build. Not burn.” Erik remained silent for a moment, his jaw working as he looked between her and the council. Slowly, he stepped down from the throne platform and came to stand beside her, his presence bold and imposing next to her composed figure.

He spoke softly, not for the council but for her. “So what you suggesting, (Y/N)?” She turned her head toward him, her gaze unwavering. “A council to explore how Wakanda can safely extend its reach,” she answered. “To create not just weapons, but allies. Technology. Medicine. Education. A legacy that doesn’t rule with fear.”

Erik held her gaze for a long moment. The heat in his eyes shifted into something deeper. Something unspoken. He let out a breath and shook his head with a quiet chuckle.

“You always know how to check me,” he muttered. A small smile touched her lips. “That’s why you keep me around, isn’t it?” He turned to face the council once more, lifting his voice again. “Alright. We build. We plan. But we don’t sit still. We move forward. We do it the Wakandan way.”

The council gave no resistance this time. They exchanged looks, some skeptical, some hopeful. But no one spoke against him. Who knows what the young man who is to lead them. Might do if they made a sound that seemed judgmental.

When the chamber had emptied and the sun dipped low through the stained glass, casting golden light over the throne room, she remained. Her fingers traced the lines etched into the ancient walls, symbols of kings long gone. Her eyes lingered on a carving of Bast watching over a kneeling warrior.

“You stayed behind,” Erik said from behind her. His voice was quieter now. Taking in the space of how large the council room was. Despite there being people left in there.

You didn’t turn right away.“You knew I would.” You say standing at attention. Undeterred from your leader now circling you. Before you knew it Erik stepped closer, standing beside her but not touching. His arms crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed but his eyes focused only on her.

“You made me look weak today,” he said. He says gruffly staring her down at the back of her head. She turned her face toward him slowly, her expression unreadable.“I made you look like a king who listens. There’s strength in that.”

He let out a soft huff through his nose, not quite a laugh, but not anger either. All the man could do was roll his eyes. Despite him being her for less than a year he was till getting used to this. “You always been that bold?” He ask with his chin held high looking down his nose at you.“Only when it matters.” Is all (Y/N) could say to the king knowing what you are doing is right.

That made him smile. Not the smirk he wore in the council chambers, but a real one. The kind he gave only to her. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping.

“Damn. That’s why I keep you close.”She looked at him, her gaze softer now. He could only do is crooked smile knowing he got her. “You don’t keep me close, Erik. I choose to stand beside you.”

His smile faded, replaced by something more vulnerable. Something real. A large hand reached out and brushing his fingers gently against the inside of her wrist, his touch slow and intentional. It lingered. His eyes searched hers. “You ever think about what this would look like if things were different?” he asked. Pausing slightly lost in thought. “If I wasn’t king. If you weren’t duty-bound to keep me grounded.”

“I don’t hold you down,” she said quietly. Looking up into his eyes. Feeling this internal warm towards Erik.“I steady you. There’s a difference.” His eyes didn’t leave hers.

“And if I wasn’t king?” He questioned. In his mind everyone is doing everything out of fear. Which he likes but also want real people around him. (Y/N) stepped closer, her voice almost a whisper. “I think I still would’ve found you.”

His chest rose with a deep breath. He looked at her like she was the only truth he had ever trusted. “Say the word,” he said. “And I’ll stop pretending this is just business.” Her heart beat faster, but her expression stayed calm, firm. “You’re not ready to hear my answer.”

“Try me.” Erik says low looking deep into her eyes as if he could see her truth. You lifted a hand and let your fingers gently graze the edge of his jaw. The gesture was delicate but deliberate.

“When your war is over,” you say slightly above a whisper. Taking in his dark features delicately tracing his chin with your finger. Down to the top of his royal garments, knowing what markings lie beneath the fabric. You had accidentally seen them and when you were caught but the king. He sat you down an explained why he did it. “When your crown no longer weighs you down… I’ll give you more than words.”

Erik closed his eyes for a moment as if absorbing the promise. When he opened them again, he gave a crooked smile, one tinged with both affection and determination. “Then I guess I better make sure I survive this war,” he said stepping closer in your space. “So I can come back for what’s mine.”

He turned and began to walk away, his footsteps echoing softly across the stone floor. You watched him go, her arms folded lightly over her chest, her expression unreadable. “I’m not going anywhere, Erik.”You call out to him.

He didn’t look back. But he paused for a breath.

And she knew he was smiling.

[alternate-real-ities]

Hi. It would be interesting to know how you look into other universes? Do you have any kind of device or magical abilities? Can you demonstrate this on me?

Hey there, cutie 😉. Thank you for your intriguing question about how I perceive other universes and realities beyond our own. While I do not possess any magical abilities, I have developed a remarkable device that allows me to peer into the multiverse. My machine utilizes advanced quantum computing technology coupled with exotic matter as the energy source. It allows me to access specific realities with decent clarity by calibrating it carefully.

To demonstrate this capability for you, I would be happy to show you some alternate realities where you're still as stunning as you are now, only in a different way:

Here's a universe where you are instead Filipino. Here, your hair is a deep black with just the slightest hint of waviness at the top, framing your heart-shaped face perfectly. You possess a boyish face that makes anyone weak in the knees at first glance. When you smile, it's like seeing a whole world open up.

Your chest is smooth and flat, leading down to your soft belly and then tapering off into elegant legs that show little signs of hair. You are so small and delicate that it's hard to imagine that below all that innocence hides a deep lust for a big strong man to hold you up and do with you as he pleases.

-

Now, let's pay a visit to a previous dimension I like to call "Arab World". At the pinnacle of this society are the most perfectly engineered humans - those with Arab DNA that has been optimized through generations of careful selection, genetic tweaking and breeding to create individuals of unparalleled physical perfection and mental acuity. In this universe, you are an alpha of unparalleled might, your virility unmatched by any who have come before. You take great pride in your genetic superiority, knowing that no mere mortal could ever compare to your perfection.

You are blessed with a virile physique, muscular form sculpted by years of intense physical training. Your bulging chest and rock-hard abs speak to your boundless strength and vitality. In the gym at your lavish estate, you push yourself to the limits, determined to maintain peak condition.

But as much as you appreciate fine living and opulence, your true passion lies in power, conquest, and sexual domination of lesser beings. As an elite Arab alpha ruler, you take immense pride and pleasure in asserting your superiority over those beneath you, including your slaves.

-

To end this showcase gracefully, let me show you one last reality which might be my favourite. In this dimension, one of your parents is black, and as such you were born to become an handsome lightskin man.

You are an absolute fuckboy, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Your life is one endless string of parties, workouts, flirting, and fucking. You are utterly shameless about flaunting your body to anyone who will look. At the gym, you make sure every single rep is perfectly calibrated for maximum muscle growth. You strike poses, flexing and posing with a confident swagger that lets everyone know just how goddamn hot you are. The mirror loves you as much as you do.

Your nightlife consists of endless nights out on the town. You're always down to hit up the trendiest clubs in the city, the hottest bars, the flashiest parties. Your social media is filled with steamy selfies showcasing off your bodacious physique - pecs popping from tight tank tops, washboard abs glistening as you do ab crunches against a wall. Fans and admirers drool over every inch of exposed skin.

You are always on the prowl for a special someone to show off and bring home - some unsuspecting twink who can't resist getting lost in your world of pleasure and excitement. The way you touch them, caress their skin with lingering fingertips, leans into them with smoldering intensity - it's enough to make even the most experienced bottom moan like a bitch in heat.

-

These are just some examples of the diverse array of alternate realities that my machine allows me to access and observe from afar. Although, with the timeline converger project I'm currently working on, it may one day become possible for me to physically transform you as well if we both so desire.

As a side note, I'd like to thank you for your patience! I know I took a lot of time, but calibrating my machine takes quite some time if one wants to see realities that aren't as normal and boring as ours. I hope it was worth your time, because I'm sure it was worth mine 😉 See you next time!

[doomtrooper77]

Some of these new Merc were terrifying. Back in 2080, some countries, fuck call them what they were now, fucking conglomerate states, tried fielding robotic soldiers on the field. They were devastating at first. More than a few countries fell to wave after wave of unthinking killing machines. But here's the thing, no programming, no AI is going to ever beat a THINKING KILLING MACHINE. During that time, companies/countries started integrating tech into their soldiers. It was still supposed to have been against international law., but the human race had devolved into purely might makes right.

It turns out that humans blended with tech are far more efficient and deadly killing machines. The human mind has always been geared toward using tools. Now that these deadly tools were blended directly with human anatomy, the machines didn't stand a chance. But then, neither did your everyday human.

Its 2145 technology has humanity flowing into the solar system, with cities on the Asteroids, the Moon, Mars, and Europa. 100 years ago, TV shows had humanity step into the stars as a unified civilization. Reality is nothing like that. Conglomerations are the governments. The riches of the solar system allowed them to branch out and grow at exponential rates. Most people live a good life, but military strikes and wars between companies are common. Sometimes, it is over territory, a new asteroid, or a new spot on the moon or Mars. Or over tech and knowledge.

That's where I come in. They attacked about 12 hours ago. They didn't know what they were looking for because it was actually a who. Me. They have been scooping up all the tech they found, but it turns out they were looking for the guy who had been developing a new way to generate encapsulated plasma. I was that guy. It could be used for a lot of things, but one of them was weaponry. I didn't tell anyone, but I was much further along in my research than I had told my bosses. I had figured out how to use this tech in everything from handguns to ship-mounted cannons. Somehow, someone outside of our company found out, which is why they attacked.

I recognize this gear. These guys were from the heavy weapons company Blackblade Heavy Weapons and Industry. They were from their mercenary wing, Doomtroopers. Some of the tech they integrated and carried was beyond anything I had ever seen. Doomtroopers weren't just your average mercenaries. As far as we can tell, only 10 attacked the base. We had over 200 security personnel onsite. They cut through them like butter.

The three trying to get me to a shuttle were smeared across the broken and crumbling building. They told me to hide, but it was too late. Hiding under a desk in the shadows of the room did nothing. I could see the glow of his cyber eyes as they locked on me. The ground shook as his massive armored form swaggered to where I hid.

"I found the target. We are in building 7G. Converge on me." He said out loud. "Loud and Clear, Major, we are headed your way." was the reply. His face split into a grin, "Now, why don't you come out from under there, little man. We're gonna take you to your new home. Lots of new tech for you to play with and lots of new toys you'll make for us." he said hefting the massive assault rifle he carried easily. "You can come along nicely, or I can beat you into compliance. I'd rather you come along nicely."

I did the only thing I could; I stood up from under the desk. The smirk on his face said he was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. Today, he wanted me. It wasn't until I was standing next to him that I realized how big he was. Fuck, he was easily over 7 feet tall. He had massive musculature; I could see the armor and tech integrated over his frame. A small part of me was screaming this was a monster from a nightmare, but the analytical part of me was already thinking about what could be done to improve it.

His eyes seemed to assess me even as mine assessed him. "Good choice, Doctor." He said. Getting back on channel with his men, he said, "Doomsquad 9, clean up any security on your way to building 7. Dropships, meet us outside section 9, lay waste to anything on air or land that moves in our direction." Weapons fire could be heard in the distance and growing nearer. He growled, "Music to my ears."

[2old2swiftie]

Following on the post about trusting our guts about gaydar and celebrities...

I've batted nearly .1000 when it comes to predicting a celebrity's sexual orientation just from media clues. I think partly it's because I don't make the "guess" that often: Only a few celebrities really ring the clue phone (yeah, lack of representation sucks), but I also think the other reason is because LGBTQIA folks don't get it wrong very often.

I mean, it's pretty important that our instincts are right, after all. We could truly be risking our lives on a wrong guess in real life. We have to be incredibly careful AND pretty darned good.

So, I was trying to think of someone who pinged my spidey senses that I was COMPLETELY wrong about... and I came up with only one example:

Kate Mulgrew.

Despite driving the daydreams of legions of 1970s lesbians (Rosie O'Donnell, I'm looking at you), Kate remains firmly heterosexual, in spite of the lesbian catnip she oozes from every pore.

Just look at her as Mary Ryan in her soap opera debut:

She went on to do movies and the stage for a number of years, but she was hard to cast because she didn't fit the cookie cutter parts available at the time. She had a brief doctor series and some guest star spots, most notably on Dallas and Cheers.

But when they cast her as Captain Janeway? Come on!!

Look at her!!!

Every woman loving woman in all the quadrants wanted to be her coffee cup!!

But the man boys at Paramount decided the show needed some spank appeal for the 14-24 male demographic, so they brought out their Space Barbie, Seven of Nine, to introduce some gratuitous sex and nudity.

"Only one problem, boys," said Mulgrew with a smirk....

Voyager now had a willful, headstrong, wildly intelligent "alien" snatched from her natural environment and penned up in a rigid, paramilitary system that she had to learn to navigate, understand, and ultimately be tamed by... and it was headed by another willful, headstrong, wildly intelligent human, who happened to be female, too.

The producers and writers claimed Janeway was Seven's mentor, a "mother figure" to the poor little space orphan.

As the J/7 fandom put it: Mother, my ass.

The subtext-- and soon the fan fiction-- wrote itself: Seven gets kidnapped back to the Borg? Janeway takes on a Borg cube with a ship a tenth its size. Failing Borg technology threatens Seven's life? Janeway goes "cortical node" hunting, even if it means killing a live (enslaved, sentient) drone to get one. Greater good? Screw that, Janeway's girlfriend is in danger.

Star Trek: Voyager went toe-to-toe with Xena, Warrior Princess as lesbian show of the decade.

And it wasn't just the show that made us all sure about Kate. The woman has the voice of a lesbian sex goddess and she's not afraid to use it. She flirts shamelessly with all interviewers and creates sexual tension with stage furnishings. She swaggers. She slouches. She has the greatest hand game in lesbian history!!

But through it all, Kate Mulgrew maintained (and still maintains) her heterosexuality.

And I still hope...nay, LONG!, to have my gaydar proven right...

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Footwear: Meteor Sports (Part 2)

I FOUND THE SHOES!

Xavier's Meteor Sports are practically a dead ringer for the Nike Air Fear of God Raid!

Look at this comparison! Loooooook!

Product Details:

Price: $201.83 (£152.95)

Description:

"Co-created with street-fashion mogul Jerry Lorenzo and his Fear of God brand, the Nike Air Fear of God Raid merges the swagger of luxury streetwear with a design inspired by the original 1993 Air Raid outdoor basketball shoe. The leather and textile upper has a luxurious look and a soft, sumptuous feel. Nike Air technology provides responsive cushioning."

Source: (Link)

Additional Images:

[renova-writes]

lost in the pages. part 1

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1,350

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me. I'm trying to get back into it and I started this fit a while ago so I figured I'd finally post the first few chapters of it! I hope you like it!

masterlist

You had your nose fully engrossed in your book, ignoring the lunch you had set out to eat on the table next to you. You had been itching to read your latest story- a crime thriller- all morning, making the minutes agonizing, and once you finally took your lunch break the book was the first thing you thought about. 

Just as the story started to pick up, your coworker David ran into the break room. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, Betty needs you up at the front. Some guy showed up all serious and she had to take a meeting with him.” 

“What about you? I’m on lunch right now. Why can’t you get the front desk?”

“I got story time in five minutes. Unless you want to read ‘Cat In The Hat’?”

“No, thanks. I’ll take the front.” Children stressed you out, the way they could never sit still and pay attention. You were grateful for David and his endless patience.

The library you worked at in downtown Manhattan saw a fair amount of traffic. Unfortunately, everyone always seemed to come in right after you took your lunch break. There was a decent amount of books for one of New York’s oldest private libraries and only three full time employees. Betty, the head librarian, was about sixty years old and a kind old soul. She had been a librarian at this branch her entire life and defended her books with such ferocity that she had been given the nickname ‘the book witch’ by the snot-nosed little kids that mixed up the shelving in the children’s section and ‘old hag’ by the meaner ones . You swore that you saw her hit a teenager over the head with a book when he and his friends were eating in the library. David was an oddball. He was technically in charge of the technology, but the branch had only a handful of computers and, for the most part, relied on paper records to keep track of its books. In the two years you had been working with David, you never once saw him read a book unless he had to. He was a character, to say the least. 

You had been working at the library for the past two and a half years. Growing up you loved to read and went to college at NYU, studying Classic Literature before graduating a year early and deciding to get your degree in Master’s in Library and Information Science and become a librarian. You found your job to be incredibly rewarding but also very stressful. You liked helping people find new books and seeing them get excited about books. However, you were constantly hounded by mounds of paperwork and phone calls and constant organization. During your first week, you had made the mistake of re-organizing the disheveled back room and had apparently done such a good job that Betty decided to put you in charge of all things ‘organized’ and gave you control of the library’s extensive records. You assumed that you had managed it fairly well. Housing thousands of books and newspaper records whilst still using the Dewey Decimal system, it had been a nightmare to digitize everything. The project had occupied a few months of your time but at the end of it, nobody complained and all files were straightforward and easy to find. It was all smooth sailing. 

While sitting at the front desk that afternoon you longed for the book that you were forced to abandon in the break room. Your felt stomach start to complain about the ignored lunch and you were about to go back to grab your sandwich during a rare dead-period when Betty walked over with someone.

 The man next to Betty had messy dark brown hair and a neatly shaped goatee. He wore an old Black Sabbath t-shirt and shaded sunglasses and walked with such confidence and swagger that he was easily recognizable. Tony freaking Stark. 

‘What the hell is he doing here?’ you wondered to yourself. 

“Ah, Mr. Stark, this is who I was talking about. She’s the best librarian and archivist I have ever worked with.” Betty smiled through her rectangle glasses. 

“Thank you,” you beamed, slightly flustered by the compliment, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. All my prayers have been answered. You are really going to save my ass.” 

Though you had heard that Stark had a unique and slightly confusing way of talking, you were not expecting this. How could you help him? He was a genius. “How exactly am I going to do that, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony. I have a slight problem that I could use your help with.” He began, “Back when we were just starting out a few years ago, after the New York alien invasion disaster, we were supposed to log everything and do debriefs and paperwork and all that stuff but we didn’t exactly know what to do with all of it so it kind of all just got piled up in filing cabinets and boxes. That wasn’t that big of a problem but now we’re supposed to share our records with the UN and they’re a disaster. None of us have any idea how to do it- not that we have time to- so that’s where you come in.” 

“So you want me to organize it all for you?” 

“All of it, by March 26th.” Your eyes widened. That was only three weeks away. Who knows how bad it was? Still, it was Tony Stark and he would probably be willing to pay pretty well. 

“Just as long as Betty and David will be able to manage without me-” you began, but Betty interrupted your only excuse. 

“We’ll be fine, dear.” She smiled, and you could tell that she was trying to encourage you to take the job. The library would survive despite the massive increase in work that she and David would have to endure. 

You looked from her to Stark, who was leaning against the desk and smiling also, then back to Betty. You felt bad about leaving Betty and the library but the opportunity to work with Stark was too alluring. “Okay, okay. I’m in.”

“Okay great! That was easier than I thought it would be.” Tony said, clapping his hands and standing up straight. “I’ll see you at 9 tomorrow, Happy will give you more info, here’s my card,” his mouth was moving faster than you expected and words were being thrown out that you didn’t understand. Who was Happy? Did he want to meet you at the Avenger’s Tower? Before you had even realized what you just got yourself into, Tony Stark was out the door.

You breathed out, muttering a curse word that you hoped Betty didn’t hear. You stood up from the desk and she walked over to you. Clasping her hands around yours she smiled again, “Congratulations, I am so proud of you, dear.” 

“No fucking way, Tony Stark wants you to come organize the Avenger’s records!?” David asked for the millionth time while the two of you were sorting the book returns. 

“I swear to god, David, it was him.” You were starting to get annoyed. David seemed more excited about your job than you were. “I have no idea how bad it is. I only have three weeks to get everything in order.”

“Oh, shit, you might be screwed then. How long did it take for you to get this branch in order?”

“Two, three months. But I also had other stuff to do, it wasn’t like my main job.” 

“You’re gonna be fine. You’re smart and capable and it can’t be that bad. Plus just remember how much he’s probably gonna pay you.” 

“Yeah,” you began but a buzz in your pocket distracted you. You pulled it out to find a text from an unknown number “Hey, I bet this is him with the info, I’ll be right back.” 

This is Happy. 

Avengers tower, 9 o’clock, front entrance. 

Don’t be late. I will meet you in the lobby. 

[iamnot-crazy]

Pages of promise.

Summary: You have always itched for adventure and when an interesting vessel appears you take your chance and jump aboard.

Trafalgar Law x GN!reader

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (Sad Ending) Chapter 3 (Bittersweet Ending)

You sat on the railing separating the dock from the town as boredom gnawed at you. Your island sat in North Blue right before the entrance to the grand line and was renowned for its vibrant dyes and delectable berries. No one of interest ever arrived at your town except for the few Marines who swagger through town, restocking before their journeys into the Grand Line. At least until today.

A peculiar yellow vessel, unlike any you'd ever seen, sliced through the turquoise water. It was a ship? Emblazoned on its side was a jolly roger – a smiley face with 6 lines radiating from it. It was an odd jolly Roger not having cross bone many have but there was no doubt in your mind that it was a pirate ship. Your heart hammered against your ribs with a thrill you hadn't felt in years.

With a surge of adrenaline, you vaulted over the wooden railing and stalked toward the docked vessel. An interesting crew disembarked, all clad in white jumpsuits emblazoned with the same smiley face insignia as their vessel. Behind the crew trailed a man with a brooding expression and a floppy white hat perched on his head, sported a yellow hoodie, and held a large sword resting it on his shoulder. He must be the captain you thought as you watched him approach the dockhand and pulled out a pouch of coins.

With a mischievous grin, you climbed aboard the deserted vessel. Your fingers traced the cool, smooth metal of the hull, a stark contrast to the sun-baked wood of the other ships that you have seen. Peeking through a porthole, you gasped. Unlike any ship you'd ever seen, the interior was a labyrinth of gleaming corridors and unique technology.

"What do you think you're doing!?" A voice boomed from behind you. You spun around to find the captain glaring at you from across the ship.

Ignoring his scowl, bounced over to him, "I'm joining your crew!" You state joyfully before running around the man taking in his features.

"Like hell you are!" He growled as tried to turn around to face you.

"But it will be so much fun!" You jump onto his shoulders forcing him to stumble forward, overwhelmed by your boundless enthusiasm.

You push off the man and run toward the door leading to the inside of the vessel. "Hey! Stop!" The man yells at you running after you as you laugh running through the halls.

"What kind of ship is this!?" you question excitably as your fingers brush against any buttons they can find.

"It's not a ship it is a submarine." The man groaned breathlessly as he chased after you, "ROOM! Shambles!"

You were transported into arm's range of the man who grabbed your collar holding you still, "I don't know who you are but you are NOT joining my crew! And you are DONE poking around my sub!" His face grew red with anger as he spit in your face.

Undeterred, you flashed him your most innocent smile, deploying your best weapon, your puppy-dog eyes. His face twisted in discomfort by your expression. He quickly banished you from the vessel with a sigh and a flick of his wrist, transporting you back to the dock.

You pouted at your removal from the ship but decided that you were not done with the pirate crew and you ran into town finding your makeshift home on the roof of the town bar. You had a small cloth that made a tent to protect you from the elements it was not much but you called it home. The biggest benefit is that it was easy to pack up and you threw all your items into a worn leather satchel. Nestled amongst your meager belongings, lay a pristine sketchbook, its pages blank and waiting to be filled with the extraordinary tales you were about to tell

Returning to the docks you perched yourself on top of a barrel with a determined glint in your eye, you unstrapped your satchel and flipped open the sketchbook. The first page remained stubbornly blank, a canvas for the adventures to come.

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from below, "Whoa, is that the Polar Tang?!"

You peered over the edge to see three figures approaching the docks. One is a tall man with a killer whale hat and a mischievous grin, beside him an impossibly cute polar bear mink, and a third man with a penguin perched atop his head.

"Is that what she's called?" you hummed, pencil hovering over the page. The three men crowded around you, mesmerized as you began sketching the submarine with a practiced hand. Each stroke brought the Polar Tang to life, capturing the sleek lines and the details you'd absorbed during your brief exploration.

"You're really good!" Shachi exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration.

"Amazing!" Bepo echoed, tilting his head to get a better look.

You grinned, a surge of pride warming your chest. "Thanks! Are you part of her crew?"

"That's right! We are the heart Pirates" Shachi confirmed, puffing out his chest. "I'm Shachi. This furry fellow is Bepo, and that's Penguin over there."

"And who is your captain?" You question curiously.

"Trafalgar Law." He responded with joy, "And who might you be?"

Your grin grew as you pulled your attention away from your sketch, "I'm Y/n! And I am joining your crew!"

The three pirates were taken aback by your bold statement and looked at each other in concern. But upon their lips, a smile grew and they all began to laugh. "And what will you be doing on our ship Y/n?" Shachi asked in between laughs.

"I'm going to capture your adventure! I am going to document the new era and I have a feeling your crew will be a large part of it!" You smiled as you spoke of your dreams with an unfeathered confidence.

"Well let me be the first to welcome you to the crew!" Shachi laughed smacking your back while grinning.

When Law emerged from the submarine he was surprised to find you surrounded by his entire crew admiring your work as Bepo posed in front of you as you added his addition to your journal. Upon seeing Law Bepo waved, "Captain! Have you met Y/n! She is going to record our adventures!"

Law's eye twitched. "New crewmate?" he sputtered, incredulous.

You, however, remained unfazed. With a confident smile, you flipped to the first page of the sketchbook and presented it to Law. On the first page, the Polar Tang gleamed in all its glory.

"I'm going to record your adventures," you declared, your voice ringing with conviction. Law stared at the drawing, then back at you.

He saw the spark of determination in your eyes, and a reluctant sigh escaped his lips. Shachi's and Penguin's enthusiastic endorsement and Bepo's silent plea with his puppy-dog eyes only sealed your fate.

"Fine," Law grumbled, his voice laced with resignation. "But don't get yourself killed."

As the Polar Tang submerged, plunging into the cool depths, you clutched your sketchbook, your mind already brimming with stories waiting to be told. From the electrifying battles you'd witness to the hilarious antics of the crew, you'd capture it all. The blank pages were no longer empty; they were a promise, a pact with adventure.

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Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (Sad Ending) Chapter 3 (Bittersweet Ending)

A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

[tanyafreemont]

Well. Tanya Freemont, obviously, because she's your girl. But also Barb Larvernor for the technological swagger, and also a little bit of Purah (BotW/TotK) for similar reasons. And for some reason Elle Woods? Disclaimer that I have never watched Legally Blonde. There's just something about the power of "what, like it's hard?" that feels like your vibe.

hi oh my goodness sorry i didn't see this right away, my phone decided to stop giving me tumblr notifications for hours(??) so i only saw when i logged in on desktop. and thank you!!!! i love love LOVE barb she's my everything! i was thinking of going as her to spies even.. you GET it. AND ELLE MY BELOVED! my friend and i have a joke that i am literally the elle woods of my compsci class (which is made up of all blokes bar me) so youre bang on the money there too i think. i haven't actually played any zelda games (actually i don't think any of my devices can even run them) but i trust your judgement here by now.

you remind me of owen because like.. well obviously thats Literally you. tadius too of course for the same reason (i mean my mental image of you is literally in tadius cosplay) i think of the captain from bbc ghosts as well because he has a similar kind of energy i think? i'm long due a ghosts rewatch but it's something in his mannerisms.