#female mathematicians

[haggishlyhagging]

It took about two hours for Daina Taimina to find the solution that had eluded mathematicians for over a century. It was 1997, and the Latvian mathematician was participating in a geometry workshop at Cornell University. David Henderson, the professor leading the workshop, was modelling a hyperbolic plane constructed out of thin, circular strips of paper taped together. 'It was disgusting,' laughed Taimina in an interview.

A hyperbolic plane is 'the geometric opposite' of a sphere, explains Henderson in an interview with arts and culture magazine Cabinet. 'On a sphere, the surface curves in on itself and is closed. A hyperbolic plane is a surface in which the space curves away from itself at every point.' It exists in nature in ruffled lettuce leaves, in coral leaf, in sea slugs, in cancer cells. Hyperbolic geometry is used by statisticians when they work with multidimensional data, by Pixar animators when they want to simulate realistic cloth, by auto-industry engineers to design aerodynamic cars, by acoustic engineers to design concert halls. It's the foundation of the theory of relativity, and thus the closest thing we have to an understanding of the shape of the universe. In short, hyperbolic space is a pretty big deal.

But for thousands of years, hyperbolic space didn't exist. At least it didn't according to mathematicians, who believed that there were only two types of space: Euclidean, or flat space, like a table, and spherical space, like a ball. In the nineteenth century, hyperbolic space was discovered - but only in principle. And although mathematicians tried for over a century to find a way to successfully represent this space physically, no one managed it - until Taimina attended that workshop at Cornell. Because as well as being a professor of mathematics, Taimina also liked to crochet.

Taimina learnt to crochet as a schoolgirl. Growing up in Latvia, part of the former Soviet Union, 'you fix your own car, you fix your own faucet - anything', she explains. 'When I was growing up, knitting or any other handiwork meant you could make a dress or a sweater different from everybody else's.' But while she had always seen patterns and algorithms in knitting and crochet, Taimina had never connected this traditional, domestic, feminine skill with her professional work in maths. Until that workshop in 1997. When she saw the battered paper approximation Henderson was using to explain hyperbolic space, she realised: I can make this out of crochet.

And so that's what she did. She spent her summer 'crocheting a classroom set of hyperbolic forms' by the swimming pool. 'People walked by, and they asked me, "What are you doing?" And I answered, "Oh, I'm crocheting the hyperbolic plane."' She has now created hundreds of models and explains that in the process of making them 'you get a very concrete sense of the space expanding exponentially. The first rows take no time but the later rows can take literally hours, they have so many stitches. You get a visceral sense of what "hyperbolic" really means.' Just looking at her models did the same for others: in an interview with the New York Times Taimina recalled a professor who had taught hyperbolic space for years seeing one and saying, 'Oh, so that's how they look.' Now her creations are the standard model for explaining hyperbolic space.

-Caroline Criado Perez, Invisible Women

Photo credit

[luminalunii97]

Maryam Mirzakhani, first woman to win Fields medal in mathematics

Maryam Mirzakhani was one of the greatest mathematicians of her generation. She made monumental contributions to the study of the dynamics and geometry of mathematical objects called Riemann surfaces. Just as impressive as her theorems was her ability to push a field in a new direction by always providing a fresh point of view. Her raw talent was rare, even among the most celebrated mathematicians, and she was known for having a taste for difficult problems. -Kasra Rafi, Nature journal

For many Iranian women in STEM, she is a light and a role model. She's the deity we all look up to every time we get disheartened. But for the regime she was just a woman. Veil first, being treated like a human being next. To the point that when she passed away, due to breast cancer, IRIB and many regime newspapers who covered her passing news, photoshopped her photo to put obligatory hijab on her head. They tried to name her achievements as their own even though one of the main reasons she left Iran was because of how lowly intelligence was treated by this government.

Today was her birth date. RIP to the woman who is the symbol of mathematics in Iran.

[thursdayg1rl]

interview confirmed to be on the 12th. pissing and shitting and on the floor crying so on and so forth

[dhaaruni]

My fixation on morality and mortality would be infinitely more socially acceptable if I were a 17th century French male philosopher who doesn’t do their own laundry but unfortunately, I’m a 21st century female data analyst who does.

[lovedaisy02]

Modern society finding out women could read in the medieval ages:

[satyam-mathematics]

1.महिला गणितज्ञा का त्याग (Sacrifice of Female Mathematician),महिला गणितज्ञा का उत्कृष्ट त्याग (The Outstanding Sacrifice of Female Mathematician):

महिला गणितज्ञा का त्याग (Sacrifice of Female Mathematician) उत्कृष्ट और प्रेरक था।सामान्यतः लड़कियां गणित क्षेत्र का चयन बहुत ही कम करती हैं।ज्यादातर लड़कियां और महिलाएं अध्यापन के क्षेत्र का चयन करती हैं।परंतु इस महिला गणितज्ञा को शुरू से ही ऐसा वातावरण मिला था जिससे उसकी गणितीय प्रतिभा निखरकर सामने आई थी।सभी उसे कल्पना दी के नाम से पुकारते थे।कल्पना दीदी को ही संक्षिप्त व प्यार से कल्पना दी ही कहकर संबोधित करते थे।ओर अब यही उसका नाम हो गया था।

Read More:Sacrifice of Female Mathematician

[nasa]

LaRue Burbank, mathematician and computer, is just one of the many women who were instrumental to NASA missions.

4 Little Known Women Who Made Huge Contributions to NASA

Women have always played a significant role at NASA and its predecessor NACA, although for much of the agency’s history, they received neither the praise nor recognition that their contributions deserved. To celebrate Women’s History Month – and properly highlight some of the little-known women-led accomplishments of NASA’s early history – our archivists gathered the stories of four women whose work was critical to NASA’s success and paved the way for future generations.

LaRue Burbank: One of the Women Who Helped Land a Man on the Moon

LaRue Burbank was a trailblazing mathematician at NASA. Hired in 1954 at Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory (now NASA’s Langley Research Center), she, like many other young women at NACA, the predecessor to NASA, had a bachelor's degree in mathematics. But unlike most, she also had a physics degree. For the next four years, she worked as a "human computer," conducting complex data analyses for engineers using calculators, slide rules, and other instruments. After NASA's founding, she continued this vital work for Project Mercury.

In 1962, she transferred to the newly established Manned Spacecraft Center (now NASA’s Johnson Space Center) in Houston, becoming one of the few female professionals and managers there.  Her expertise in electronics engineering led her to develop critical display systems used by flight controllers in Mission Control to monitor spacecraft during missions. Her work on the Apollo missions was vital to achieving President Kennedy's goal of landing a man on the Moon.

Eilene Galloway: How NASA became… NASA

Eilene Galloway wasn't a NASA employee, but she played a huge role in its very creation. In 1957, after the Soviet Union launched Sputnik, Senator Richard Russell Jr. called on Galloway, an expert on the Atomic Energy Act, to write a report on the U.S. response to the space race. Initially, legislators aimed to essentially re-write the Atomic Energy Act to handle the U.S. space goals. However, Galloway argued that the existing military framework wouldn't suffice – a new agency was needed to oversee both military and civilian aspects of space exploration. This included not just defense, but also meteorology, communications, and international cooperation.

Her work on the National Aeronautics and Space Act ensured NASA had the power to accomplish all these goals, without limitations from the Department of Defense or restrictions on international agreements. Galloway is even to thank for the name "National Aeronautics and Space Administration", as initially NASA was to be called “National Aeronautics and Space Agency” which was deemed to not carry enough weight and status for the wide-ranging role that NASA was to fill.

Barbara Scott: The “Star Trek Nerd” Who Led Our Understanding of the Stars

A self-described "Star Trek nerd," Barbara Scott's passion for space wasn't steered toward engineering by her guidance counselor. But that didn't stop her!  Fueled by her love of math and computer science, she landed at Goddard Spaceflight Center in 1977.  One of the first women working on flight software, Barbara's coding skills became instrumental on missions like the International Ultraviolet Explorer (IUE) and the Thermal Canister Experiment on the Space Shuttle's STS-3.  For the final decade of her impressive career, Scott managed the flight software for the iconic Hubble Space Telescope, a testament to her dedication to space exploration.

Dr. Claire Parkinson: An Early Pioneer in Climate Science Whose Work is Still Saving Lives

Dr. Claire Parkinson's love of math blossomed into a passion for climate science. Inspired by the Moon landing, and the fight for civil rights, she pursued a graduate degree in climatology.  In 1978, her talents landed her at Goddard, where she continued her research on sea ice modeling. But Parkinson's impact goes beyond theory.  She began analyzing satellite data, leading to a groundbreaking discovery: a decline in Arctic sea ice coverage between 1973 and 1987. This critical finding caught the attention of Senator Al Gore, highlighting the urgency of climate change.

Parkinson's leadership extended beyond research.  As Project Scientist for the Aqua satellite, she championed making its data freely available. This real-time information has benefitted countless projects, from wildfire management to weather forecasting, even aiding in monitoring the COVID-19 pandemic. Parkinson's dedication to understanding sea ice patterns and the impact of climate change continues to be a valuable resource for our planet.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space! 

[flowerandblood]

Equation without solution 

[ Michael • Gavey x painter student! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, trauma, mention of bullying, mention of physical and mental violence ]

[ description: Michael sees no point in worrying about anything, especially relationships, when all he needs is math. His calm, logical world falls apart when a female painting student asks him for help in calculating the best possible composition to create a portrait. Sexual tension, angst, a litte brat taming and domination kink, great childhood traumas. ]

The fragment with Michael in the trailer inspired me to write this. The whole discussion around this oneshot, whether it should be made at all, made me very tired. I don't think we'll get his backstory in the movie, but even if we did, I just felt like writing it - so here it is. Have fun reading.

Part 2 − Formula for perfection

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Ever since he could remember, his father had explained to him that an intelligent man is not guided by emotions, but by logic. That's why he married his mother, that's why he went into the army. A long belt hung in plain sight in one of the cupboards of their house, so that he could use it to remind him this when necessary.

His father never hit him with his hand. He did not slap him, considering it humiliating for a man to do this to another man. Punishments were in the nature of a ritual, which he said he did not find pleasant either. He reiterated that only strong people survive in this world, that if a classmate beat him up at school he should not cry, but punch him back even harder.

He was afraid to tell his father when, once again after being hit by Creg, one of the school donkeys, his glasses broke in half. In panic situations he would run to his mother, who would look at him with terrified eyes and only repeat "quickly, your father must not find out".

He and his mother shared secrets, which she told him they could not tell his father so as not to upset him. Such things were the sweets she had hidden in one of the containers that pretended to be flour, or the savings she meticulously counted when he was away.

She would say that one should always be prepared, but he didn't understand for what.

One day he found a container of sweets standing by his bedside table and his mother had disappeared, leaving him and his father with only a short note, which his father tore up and said they would never mention her again.

He threw away pictures of her, all her clothes, everything, even his toys or his books, which she was the one who bought and read to him. He only managed to hide one, which was a maths exercise book that had slippery, oiled pages from which he could erase the results of equations at will and fill them in again with a dry erase marker.

This book became his favourite; he would only take it out at night when he was sure his father was already asleep and fill in all the blanks one by one, knowing them by heart.

He created his own ritual.

This calmed him down.

Later, however, these tasks proved too simple and tedious, he needed a challenge and asked his teacher, Mrs Rosaline, to recommend something to learn. She did so willingly, surprised by his diligence, and when he came in the next day saying he had solved all the tasks, she started sending him to maths competitions.

Maths was wonderfully logical and cool, you couldn't interpret it in different ways like poetry, you didn't have to get into the mind of the author of an equation to understand the result. Everything was preconceived and safe, a wrong result could always be explained, you could get to the root of it.

There was no reason to be sad, nervous or happy.

When, in high school, his tutor announced to his father that he was a genius and that he should start a career in science his father was furious. He said that mathematician was not a profession, that all his life he would remain the victim of fate that he had apparently always been destined to be.

He wasn't happy when he got into the best university in the country without any exams, he wasn't happy that he was one of the few to get his own dorm room and a big scholarship.

His father told him that he was already a man and not a boy, that he would not beat him with a belt to explain to him that he was not a genius but an idiot.

What he had learnt from his father was not to worry about such words. He would grin at him when he tried to explain to him what a mistake he was making with amusement and satisfaction as he watched the man who told him that emotions were a sign of weakness become enraged.

His father was weak.

He was emotional.

Even the army and the fact that he beat him didn't change that.

He thought that this was probably what his father, that is his grandfather, had tried to instil in him, but he had failed miserably.

He truly believed, however, that his father was right.

He didn't need emotions.

Numbers were enough for him.

He could calculate the probability of whether or not he would be able to communicate with someone by analysing quickly in his head with what frequency that person spoke about things that did not interest him.

He didn't consider whether he liked them and didn't even have any idea how he would have known that. He recognised that deciding on the basis of chemical reactions in his brain about his acquaintances was absurd.

Just because he didn't feel anything didn't mean he wasn't laughing or enjoying himself. On the contrary, he smirked a lot, usually while listening to other people's discussions or when he managed to get someone off balance.

Wealthy alpha males who owed the place he had earned only to their rich parents reigned around the university like kings, pretending to be intelligent, studying law, medicine or banking without having a clue what they were doing were his most common victims.

"I could never defend a rapist or a murderer. I don't know, it makes me flinch at the mere idea." Said Kyle once when they were sitting in the library, them pretending to study, actually sitting over open books they weren't concentrating on and talking, distracting him.

When he needed real focus he would study in his room, but when he felt like a bit of entertainment he would go out to listen to them.

It was better than a comedy in TV.

"After all, every man deserves a defence lawyer, he's innocent until the court hands down a final verdict." Matt, a boy who read a lot and could memorise things, replied, throwing quotes from his sleeve without much understanding of them. Kyle snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"So what? Sometimes you subconsciously know this person did it by looking at them or the evidence is incriminating enough." He replied with a certainty that surprised him.

He corrected his glasses on his nose with his pointing finger, wondering how this moron was going to defend anyone in court if he himself was constantly undermining his client's innocence in his head while he himself wanted to be the judge against him.

"If it was as you say, there wouldn't be so many innocently convicted people in prison. Evidence seems incriminating until one new clue, piece of evidence or witness comes along that changes everything. It is the duty of the defence counsel to look for such details to the best of his ability, and not to judge his client unless he himself wants to plead guilty." He heard a second, frustrated voice and lifted his gaze, noticing a girl standing by the bookcase who had heard their conversation while looking for some book.

He recognised her only by sight, and knew that she had studied painting, so her person did not interest him at all. However, what she said frustrated Kyle and disturbed his nepotistic sense of superiority, so he gave this scene his full attention.

"I didn't know kids drawing with crayons knew anything about such serious matters as criminal law." He said piteously, a mocking sweetness in his voice, his gaze feigning warmth, meant to bring her out of her funk.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was looking at him like he was an idiot.

"I don't need to know this to realise that no amount of money will make you a good lawyer. I feel sorry for your future clients, because you will destroy them yourself." She replied, raising her eyebrows in amusement, completely unfazed by his insult.

It surprised him that she looked happy and pleased to see his angry face, not letting him get a word in edgewise, grabbing the book she was looking for and walking off towards her friends sitting at a table in the distance.

On his way out of the library he heard her voice, heard her laugh, light and unforced, glanced at her and their gazes met for a moment before he walked out into the corridor.

He had forgotten about her until an incident when, sitting in the university restaurant, he noticed Kyle walking past her and pretending to stumble, the entire contents of his cranberry juice spilled on her dress, leaving big pink stains.

"Sorry, are you okay?" He asked, feigning seriousness and concern, and she stood up, furious without even speaking to him, walking away.

He watched curiously as Kyle sat down with his friends and high-fived Matt, clearly pleased with himself, putting his arm around some silly giggling girl.

After a while, however, that girl came back, dressed up, wearing only a man's long-sleeved shirt all soiled with paint, covering the small part of her thighs that she apparently used as an apron while painting, socks and trainers on her legs.

He felt something strange seeing her soft thighs, thinking of the fact that he himself wore similar shirts, and took a sip of coffee from his cup, watching as she sat back next to her friends, saying something quickly, going back to eating her lunch, unconcerned.

She laughed.

He shuddered when their eyes met and quickly glanced at Kyle, who was watching her from afar, licking his lips, his leg moving in impatience, the girl he was embracing whispering something in his ear, but he wasn't listening to her.

He was thinking.

Usually when he had to move from one building to another he went through a side exit, so as to have a bit of peace and quiet, but on this day he decided to walk through the main square, walking on its right side, looking through the windows.

He was not at all searching for her with his eyes when he saw the rows of easels and people around the model, dressed in historic Renaissance costume.

He didn't feel the heat stroke at all and stopped involuntarily when he saw her sitting with her back to him, her canvas smaller than the others, she sat closer, focused only on the portrait.

He could see her underpainting, just an outline and a sketch, and the lines she had drawn to help herself.

The golden ratio.

He shuddered at the thought that she was deliberately using mathematical proportional division to achieve a subconscious effect of harmony in the whole composition, which was, after all, just a base for the actual layer with chiaroscuro and colours.

He gasped when one of his year mates slapped him on the back, asking what he was looking at, and when he saw what he was observing behind the window, he laughed.

"These artists. They will die poor, but at least in their mind they will have created something outstanding. Until a critic comes along who says what they've painted is ugly." He muttered with amusement, putting his arm around him as if they were good mates, although they were not.

He looked back and noticed with pounding heart that this girl was turning over her shoulder, looking in his direction.

His friend had said something about the Mona Lisa, about how ugly she was and that he didn't understand how that portrait could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but he was unable to focus on it.

The golden ratio.

The balance of the composition.

Her painting was thoughtful.

He was convinced that painters only recognised their own artistic intuition and thus created ugly paintings, which they then called contemporary art.

He didn't think about her, or at least tried to until his mates told him that Kyle was throwing a party, to which he was obviously not invited.

"Apparently he even invited the girl he doused with juice at the time as an apology. Bruce says he recently brought her flowers during her classes and that he seems to have a crush on her."

"Sometimes it's one step from hate to love."

He didn't like the uncomfortable feeling he experienced in his chest, a sort of sting and tightness in his throat. He went back to the equation he had just solved without listening to them further.

Even if someone didn't know there was supposed to be any kind of party going on, they had certainly heard it that Friday night, the music, laughter and screams from Kyle's room echoing loudly through the dorm.

Even though women weren't allowed in there there were plenty of them, he could hear them running to the toilet, squealing and giggling, driving him furious as he couldn't concentrate on what he was reading. He pulled down his glasses, massaging the space between his eyes with his fingers, closing his eyelids, trying to calm himself.

His emotions wouldn't change anything.

He shuddered when he heard a knock on his room and looked uncertainly towards his door. He feared it was Kyle and his pack who had drunkenly decided they would have fun at his expense.

He swallowed loudly when he heard her voice.

"Can I come in?"

He felt his heart start pounding hard, a multitude of thoughts running through his head. He tried to analyse whether he should do it or not, what she might have wanted from him, but nothing came to mind, there was a complete void in his brain.

God.

"Come in." He heard his own uncertain voice, and after a moment the door opened and there she stood.

She came in smiling and cheerful, happy for some reason, closing the door behind her, looking around his room as if she had come at his invitation, wearing a large long-sleeved sweatshirt with the university logo reaching halfway down her thighs, long light wool socks and trainers on her legs.

He wanted to say something, to ask why he owed this visit and what she wanted from him, but all he did was stare at her legs, at the small patch of her exposed naked body between her sweatshirt and the material of her socks. He felt a strong pulsing in his black sweatpants and swallowed loudly knowing what it meant.

Fuck.

He'd only fucked twice in his life, and they'd been fairly inept acts of physical intimacy between a man and a woman, where they'd pursued their fulfilment on him, not caring much about him, maybe even imagining he was someone else, some more handsome boy who just happened not to want to look at them.

It didn't bother him, because he didn't feel anything for them himself, they didn't even arouse his desire, but they were just very horny, and he decided that he didn't want to remain a virgin for the rest of his life.

It had been more of a relaxing than a pleasurable experience and he didn't understand why men were so overpowered by it, but now, looking at her, he felt his brain and his logic start to give up in favour of what was going on in his trousers.

"You didn't go to the party?" Her light, gentle voice snapped him out of his reverie, causing him to lift his eyes to her face, which, to his surprise, seemed very pretty up close, her eyes large and bright, framed by long lashes, her pink lips curved in a smile.

What made her so happy?

Why did she come to his room and ask such things?

"No. NFI." He replied dispassionately, lowering his gaze to her legs again, unable to contain himself, covering what was happening to him with a book. She blinked, furrowing her brow.

"What?" She asked with amusement and curiosity.

"Not Fucking Invited." He explained and she burst into soft laughter, he wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone react like that to anything he'd said.

"Maybe it's better for you too. I went there for a while, but they act like pigs in a shed. A friend told me I could find you here so I thought I'd take the opportunity." She said calmly, walking over to his desk, leaning over his books. He wondered with a pounding heart how she had the confidence to just walk into a stranger's room and talk to him as if she had known him for years.

He chuckled and shook his head, running his hand over his face in an attempt to hide his nervousness and what his imagination was suggesting.

"Are you going to tell me why you came here, or are you going to continue wasting my time?" He muttered ironically, figuring that by doing so he would somehow discourage her or force her to stop pestering him.

He blinked and lifted his knees higher when she suddenly sat down next to him on his bed, as if just waiting for that question, excitement in her eyes.

"I've heard you're a mathematical genius and that's a very good thing, because I need someone to help me determine the right proportions for my painting."

She said quickly and he felt his heart beat harder, he got warm in his lower abdomen and all he could think about was wanting to back off and run away.

"Isn't the golden ratio and Fibonacci spiral enough for you?" He muttered, knowing that it was these two proportions that were usually enough for artists to create their compositions. She hit her knees with her palms as if he had said exactly what she assumed.

"No! I want to analyse it more, but I don't have the tools to do it. Nor an exact mind. I want you to help me, take a look at my sketch and tell me what you think could be improved. From a mathematical, compositional point of view." She said with an excitement that frightened him in a way, a gush of enthusiasm that he didn't know what to do, how to discourage her with.

"What's in it for me?" He asked, recognising that perhaps a materialistic approach would discourage her, yet she merely twisted in her seat, completely unmoved, apparently recognising that he was entitled to demand payment for his contribution to her work.

"And what would you like?" She asked lightly, and he swallowed loudly, his gaze involuntarily escaping to her thighs, to where he could see her bare skin.

He looked at her face again, hoping she hadn't seen it, but something in her gaze told him she had noticed it, her lips tightened. He felt his heart pounding like crazy, he felt like he was just going through some kind of heart attack.

"Do you want this?" She asked softly, warmly, and he threw her a shocked look, wondering if she was implying what he was thinking, his gaze escaping to her thighs again.

Fuck.

Did he want this?

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly, trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. He felt his pupils dilate as she corrected herself in her seat so that her sweatshirt lifted up slightly, he had a feeling that a millimetre would have been enough for him to see her underwear.

"You can touch me if you want. Just gently. Don't throw yourself at me." She said softly, a blush on her cheeks, her eyes warm and understanding, he even thought she seemed slightly embarrassed, her words sounding innocent despite the obvious subtext.

He wanted to tell her that she thought too highly of herself if she thought he was so desperate, but instead he just looked at her with his lips slightly parted, fighting with himself.

He wasn't sure if his mind controlled the movement of his hand, the way it involuntarily rose and gently touched her thigh, stroking it in a slow, steady up and down motion. He heard her sigh softly and a shudder went through her, saw her lean back and close her eyes.

He couldn't focus on anything other than the thought of how soft and firm her skin was, he wasn't sure he had ever touched anything more pleasurable. He felt both shame and thrill at the thought of how painfully hard he was, tightening his lips and swallowing with difficulty.

He glanced at her face again when, after a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him with a warm, misty gaze, as if she had drifted away with her thoughts somewhere for a moment. She smiled, but there was no mockery in it, her expression had something of girlish innocence.

He didn't quite understand what was just happening between them. His mind wanted to classify this as a prelude to physical intimacy, but he wasn't sure he was right. He felt immense tension and lust, but also a sort of tightening in his pit, intrigue and anxious anticipation.

"If you want, we can kiss. You have such full lips." She said softly with some kind of admiration and sincere desire, from which he felt a tightening in his throat.

He wasn't good at choosing his words when it came to this kind of discussion, and he didn't know completely how to act, so he just stared at her, her thigh under his hand seeming to almost burn him.

Seeing the lack of any reaction from him and the clear shock painted on his face she moved a little closer to him, there was something encouraging in her movement and gaze, some kind of comfort and concern.

She was close, but far enough away to still not invade his space, giving him the sense that she was waiting for his decision.

He stared at her, feeling that his cock hidden in his trousers was about to explode, all swollen and throbbing and after a moment their lips pressed against each other in a sudden, wet dance of tongues and teeth, their hands clenched in each other's hair, the loud, lewd click of their saliva echoing in his ears louder than the muffled music coming from several rooms away.

"Be gentle." She just whispered into his mouth between their drawn-out, sticky kisses, and he hummed at her words, smelling the pleasant scent of her shampoo in his nose.

He grabbed her softly around her waist and seated her on his thighs with his arm around her, throwing his book to the side, rubbing against her from underneath, letting her feel what she had done to him.

He heard her sigh in contentment at feeling how hard he was, both of them beginning to pant loudly as she began to massage him with the motions of her hips, herself clearly taking pleasure from it.

He clamped his hands on her buttocks and drew in the air loudly feeling that she had no shorts on underneath, just her underwear alone, and for some reason it turned him on even more.

Had she planned this all along?

She moaned feeling his hands slip under the material of her panties and squeeze her bare skin with confidence, she ran her fingers through his hair as the tip of her pink, wet tongue ran over his upper lip. He felt a strong shiver run through his entire body and involuntarily began to pant along with her, having never experienced anything like this before.

Her touch, though filled with desire, was not cold and crude, focused only on her pleasure, her hands stroking his hair, his cheeks, his neck with tender, caring movements, her firm, full lips merely teasing him, not wanting to give him any more full kisses, so he only growled, frustrated, pulling her forcibly tighter, sliding his tongue deep into her throat.

He didn't even feel the need to undress her, the very thing they were doing now, the senselessness and yet purposefulness of it made him shiver, her certainty of what she wanted.

Was she really going to do this?

Sleep with a total stranger?

What was the logic in this?

He shuddered at the thought that maybe there was none.

None.

She wouldn't let him think about it, he drew in the air loudly as he felt her nimble fingers untie his sweatpants, slipping them down slightly, exposing what was underneath them, he felt his hard, throbbing manhood being enveloped by the cool air.

He saw her rise slightly, with a movement of her hand apparently pushing the material of her underwear aside, positioning herself above him as he grasped his length in his hand, automatically directing it between her thighs.

"− I'm taking pills − I'm clean −" She whispered softly and he just nodded, not knowing what more he could answer, looking at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

They both moaned embarrassingly loudly and squeezed their eyelids shut as she lowered herself onto him, slowly pushing him deep into her body. He could feel how wet she was, how her fleshy muscles pulsed hungrily against him, how tightly they wrapped around him on all sides miraculously enhancing his sensation.

She lifted herself up with a loud click of her moisture only to fall back down, riding him in a slow unhurried rhythm, and he just leaned down and sank his face into the hollow of her neck, taking in her scent, pleasantly sweet and fresh, panting loudly.

She embraced him, stroking his hair, clearly sensing his uncertainty, terror and desire mixed together. Unwittingly, his hips began to respond to her movements with sure, deep thrusts, to which she moaned loudly, something of helplessness and delight in her sounds.

"− do you want to stop? −" She mumbled softly, kissing his hair with gentle, warm click. He lifted his face finding her lips in a greedy kiss before turning her onto her back, recognising that he couldn't take it any longer, that his cock was about to explode.

"− yeah − I want to stop very, very much −" He growled frustrated at the way she was teasing him, resting one hand on the backrest of the bed in front of him, the other holding her hip tightly, sliding into her with rapid, quick thrusts from which she began to moan and pant loudly, startled, looking up at him with her lips slightly parted.

"− don't you feel it? −" He asked ironically, thrusting his cock so deep into her that he felt like he would pierce her stomach, her body arched backwards as if trying to escape from him, he felt his thighs all sticky from her juices, their bodies smacked against each other quickly with a loud, wet slap.

"− please −" She mewled and he felt a shudder as well as heat in his lower abdomen, something in the way she said it, in the tone of her voice, in her gaze made him lick his lips feeling that just a moment more, a few more thrusts and he was about to come.

"− please, what? − can't you put a fucking sentence together anymore? − you like it when someone fucks you so rough that you don't have words, huh? −" He hissed and groaned low as he felt her walls clench tightly around him at his words, her thighs spread wide in front of him, allowing him to slide into her as deeply as he wanted in a gesture of total submission.

"− I'm sorry −" She mumbled, looking at him helplessly like a rebuked child looking at a parent, and he thought he could devour her whole right now, fuck her all night if she wanted to, if she would react the way she did now.

"− good you're sorry − fucking brat −" He growled, panting loudly along with her and suddenly, without even knowing why, he kissed her greedily, impaling his cock into her with quick, brutal thrusts.

He felt her come, her walls began to clench on him greedily, not wanting to let him go, her whole body was trembling, she tried to push him away, sobbing and moaning with pleasure into his mouth.

He fucked her through her orgasm until he finally gave in and cum inside her, panting loudly, not recognising himself, his sounds or his reactions.

"− oh God − fuck − fuck − fuck −" He mumbled clenching his eyes, coming down from his peak, still moving inside her, hearing her loud breathing underneath him.

What exactly was that?

He collapsed on top of her, completely powerless, smelling the scent of her hair, her hands embracing his waist. They laid like that in the light of his bedside lamp, breathing heavily, listening to the muffled music, the screams and laughter from the party taking place a few rooms away.

He swallowed loudly feeling that he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began, they were both all sticky from her moisture, her insides hot, pleasantly enveloping him on all sides, giving him some strange sense of security.

He thought it was for some of the hormones that are released after orgasm designed to bring partners closer together and bond.

He shuddered when he suddenly heard her soft, quiet voice.

"So what do you say? Will you help me?" She asked shyly, quietly, and he sighed heavily, silent for a long moment.

No.

"Yes."

_____

Part 2 − Formula for perfection

@at-a-rax-ia @daemonskelitsos @alphard-hydraes-blog @travelingmypassion

[nicromancytarot]

DRAWING YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE’S APPEARANCE

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings.

PICK A PILE READING

I asked my spirit guides what your future spouse looks like, I’ve drawn a VERY rough sketch for a man and a woman, pick a pile and find out which one is for you!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

MALE

- Blonde hair

- Glasses

- Strong muscles (both body and face)

- Prominent Adam’s apple

- Blue eyes (first thing you notice, they could even sparkle a bit)

- Wavy hair

- Fair skin

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Teacher / Professor

- Mathematician

- Secure in themself

- Into politics / debating

- Doctor / Nurse

- Scientist

- Public speaker

- Wealthy

- Uranus

- Aquarius

- Calves

- Vegetarian / Strict diet

INITIALS: N, H, S, E, M

FEMALE

- Blonde hair

- Blue (fish) eyes

- Glasses

- Nose piercing (hoop)

- Prominent cheekbones

- Fair skin

- Large bust (posible surgery)

- Small waist

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Social media (influencer?)

- Hairdresser

- Slow talker

- Scientist

- Dancer

- Therapist

- Humanitarian worker / Advocate

- Artist

- Something wrong with one of their arms

- Folklore

- Cosplayer

INITIALS: B, A, P, F, E

PILE 2

MALE

- Dark skin

- Dark eyes

- Dark, short hair

- Wears a lot of caps (specifically blue)

- Skinny body

- Sad resting face

- Stubble

- Pretty smile

- Tall (6’ - 6’3)

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Rich

- Large house

- British

- Small waist

- Enemies to lovers

- Hugger

- Into styling and fashion

- Chef

- Lawyer / Judge

- Chess

- Army

- CEO

- Producer

INITIALS: S, H, I, D, Z

FEMALE

- Dark skin

- Dark eyes

- Dark hair (wears a straight wig from time to time)

- Long face

- Pretty smile

- Prominent eyelashes

- Neat eyebrows

- Prominent collarbones

- Large bust

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Rough past

- Farmer

- Humanitarian worker

- Estate agent

- Emotionally mature

- Carer

- breadwinner

- Protester

- Train conductor

- Likes to go on walks

- In charge

- Police / firefighter

INITIALS: G, R, S, N, T

PILE 3

MALE

- Fair - tan skin

- Light - dark brown hair (possibly ginger)

- Hazel or brown eyes

- Small lips

- Skinny body

- Wears a bandana

- Possible piercings

- Small eyebrows

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- School

- Part of the LGBTQ+ community

- Many jobs

- A texter

- Understanding

- Into science, possible scientist

- Mechanic

- Author

- Protester

- Football (soccer)

- May have cheated in the past (could do it again)

- Peanut allergy

- Office job

INTIALS: N, P E, R, S

FEMALE

- Fair - tan skin

- Brown or green eyes

- Light brown hair

- European

- Large eyes (Tim Burton)

- Large, dark eyebrows

- Tall (around 6’)

- Small lips

- Hooked nose

- Wears a bandana

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Pain

- Possibly born prematurely, or could give birth to a premature baby

- Good with money

- Shy

- Rebellious

- Works in a place where she has to restore things

- Nut allergy (I screamed when I got this for both lmao)

- Possible black sheep of the family

- Contemporary

- Past life soul that owes their life to you in this one

- Strong

- Model

- Coach

- Gets sick a lot

INITIALS: W, A, M, K, T

[demonpiratehuntress]

Hii this might be an odd request. Feel free to ignore this if you don't like to write.

You know, straw hats have doctor, cook, swardsman, navigator,... Can you add another one who do mathematical, physics and chemistry stuff? If you can please make her a female.

She is not a genius. More like an average person. But she tries so hard. Sometime get lazy and unproductive too.

And if you can please make it a Ace x reader fic.

Thank you.

sure thing! :) it's not very long, because I don't know what else they can do in terms of those things, but i hope you still enjoy it! sorry for the wait!

taglist - @kabloswrld

someone's gotta do it

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

The Straw Hat crew wasn't very big, but it was certainly diverse. You guys had everything ranging from a navigator to a musician, so there were a lot of areas of expertise that were covered. All except for three, you supposed, which was constantly the downfall of the crew in certain situations.

A mathematician was needed, a chemist was needed and a physicist was needed.

You weren't exactly an expert in any of those areas, but you were doing your best to try and make up for those losses. You were doing your best to fill in those roles where absolutely necessary, so it wouldn't cost the crew as much anymore.

You had lots of duties to fill in these areas. You studied the log pose to determine exactly how it worked, marveling at the discovery of geomagnetism and excitedly explaining to the crew how it worked. This helped to better understand navigation in the Grand Line, and you felt useful providing that knowledge.

These duties also included setting a budget for the crew's spending on groceries and necessities, as you had to add up and subtract things you needed and things you didn't. Sometimes it was a hassle, because Luffy kept trying to add things that you absolutely did not need or even want.

"But it looks cool!"

"Luffy! Do you know how far that'll set us back in terms of berries!" You cried in exasperation, knocking your captain on the head. Oh no, you were starting to sound like Nami.

Speaking of Nami, you could also help her with her charts and her navigation. With mathematics, you could assist in charting courses that you've been on, and calculate the exact speed and distance the Sunny would require to get to certain places or away from danger. It was quite useful for that, as you could also determine how long it would take to get to a certain destination. Well, to the best of your ability seeing as this was the Grand Line after all.

"She's new."

An unfamiliar voice met your ears when you stepped out of your room to find the others out on deck, surrounding an unfamiliar man. He looked a bit like Luffy, but with freckles on his cheeks and a cowboy hat on his head.

That and he was shirtless.

You tried your hardest not to stare, blushing madly as you immediately thought that this was a really attractive man. You didn't know who he was, but you were attracted to him.

"Our mathem-mathe-maps?" Luffy tried, unable to pronounce the word.

You giggled and stepped forward, holding out your hand, "I'm (Name), the newest member. I do all the mathematics, physics and chemistry around here. Or, at least, I try my best."

The man grinned and shook your hand, "Nice to meet you! I'm Ace, Luffy's brother."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, "Luffy's...brother?!"

Ace didn't seem offended, instead he laughed at your reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot." He got Luffy in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "It's always hard to believe this little idiot is my younger brother, since I'm so charming and intelligent."

You giggled at his words, then even more so when the crew all disagreed with the second trait he mentioned.

Ace stuck around for a few days, wanting to spend some time with his little brother now that Luffy was a bigshot pirate with a big bounty and a special crew. But instead of hanging at his brother's side, Ace was curious about you. He thought you were cute, so he tried to spend some time around you, and you fell victim to his charms and his flirting.

"So, whatcha working on?" The commander grinned, leaning against your desk as you wrote down a few formulas for different chemicals.

"Hmm?" You glanced up, then blushed and quickly looked down. "Oh, nothing. I was just trying to find out how different chemicals and substances react with each other, in case we ever come across some weird devil fruit power or a chemical environment."

"And? Anything interesting?" He prompted, still smiling.

You sighed and shook your head, "Nothing useful. I'm kind of getting bored and I don't really want to read more."

He laughed then, standing up straight and holding out his hand, "Then come with me. And you can tell me about navigation using the stars."

You blushed again but accepted his offer, taking his hand and following him out. The two of you lay on the grass and stared at the sky, as you explained how sailors could locate the positions of islands or navigate where they needed to go using certain constellations and stars. He listened intently, not usually interested in this stuff but eager to hear you talk. He liked your voice, and he thought it was refreshing to see someone talking animatedly about something other than treasure or the One Piece.

"That's interesting," he spoke when you were done, "My brother's lucky to have someone so smart on his crew."

"Oh I'm not that smart," you turned red and shook your head, "I just try, that's all. Most of the time I don't even do anything and I just lay and watch the sky. It's hard to be motivated sometimes."

He studied your face as you said this, then grinned again, "Well, everyone gets lazy and unproductive sometimes. The good thing is that you're trying."

His words reassured you, and you smiled at the thought that he was impressed by you. You glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the sky and felt your heartbeat quicken.

"Someone's gotta do it."

He laughed at that, and turned to face you, "I like you. You're a refreshing change of pace in the world of pirates. No one usually cares about what you do, so it's nice to see you care."

Your cheeks warmed up at that, "I just don't want it impacting my crew, that's all. Sometimes we get let down by not knowing this stuff. I just want to protect my crew from that."

"A noble cause," he agreed.

You snorted, "Since when is anything pirates do noble?"

And the two of you laughed and joked around there under the star-filled sky, and suddenly you didn't feel so ridiculous about wanting to specialise in those topics that pirates generally never used.

Maybe you could also do it for you.

a/n - so, um, i dont even know if i got this right so im SO sorry if i didn't! i wasn't really sure how to go about it, so im really really sorry if it's disappointing. i tried, though!

[niranjandotus]

Top Ukrainian female Scientists, Doctors, Mathematicans, Economists, Artists, Athletes, Leaders, Astronauts, Military Leaders, etc.

The Ukrainian mathematician Maryna Viazovska who won Fields Medal — the highest honor for a mathematician.

Selected few famous Ukrainian scientists 

We decided to talk about outstanding Ukrainian women who've changed and continue to change the world of science to show that girls can do anything.

Maryna Viazovska, a mathematician

Ukrainian scientist, doctor of natural sciences. Ukrainian mathematician Maryna Viazovska, who currently works at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology, received the Salem Prize 2016, which is extremely prestigious for mathematicians. The commission awarded the prize to Maryna Viazovska for her world-class discovery. Ukrainian solved a problem that scientists have been working on for more than 400 years, i.e. packing spheres in 8-dimensional space, and co-authored the one in 24-dimensional space. Previously, the problem of packing spheres was solved only for spaces with three or fewer dimensions.

Yuliia Bezvershenko, a physicist

Ukrainian scientist in theoretical physics, popularizer of science, public figure, Ph.D. of physic and mathematical sciences, Yuliia Bezvershenko is included in the list of TOP-20 Ukrainian women in STEM for 2018-2019. Yuliia deals with mathematical methods applied to the problems of dynamics of quantum systems in external fields and control of quantum systems. She is convinced and proves that one can practice theoretical physics with passion.

According to Yuliia, at one time she heard an important thing from her mentor: you can be yourself in any field! Therefore, one shouldn't be afraid of stereotypes and prejudices of others.

If you're a girl, a woman, no matter where, no matter how old you are, and your heart is in science, don't be afraid. Go there boldly. After all, nothing will stop a woman, ready to work and conduct scientific discoveries.

Mariia Bailiak, a biologist

Doctor of Biological Sciences, Associate Professor of Biochemistry and Biotechnology in Vasyl Stefanyk Precarpathian National University. Scientist Mariia Bailiak studies biochemistry and researches the influence of various plants and substances on the aging process. Mariia Bailiak's discoveries concern, for instance, the increase of stress resistance and the general condition of living organisms (and therefore, us and you, and it's good news: stress resistance doesn't hurt anyone), and anti-aging substances. Thanks to her intensive work, Mariia is in the Top 10 successful Ukrainian women scientists.

Olha Brovarets, a biophysicist

Ukrainian biophysicist, Doctor of Physic and Mathematical Sciences, winner of the Scopus Awards Ukraine in the nomination "Best team of scientists who achieved significant scientific results without Western collaborations" and the President of Ukraine Award for Young Scientists, and a leading researcher in the Department of Molecular and Quantum Biophysics Institute of Molecular Biology and Genetics of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine. Olha is the youngest doctor habilitatus in Ukraine; she became a doctor at 29. Olha is now 34 years old and she continues to study biophysics: her discoveries give an understanding of the mechanisms of cancer and many other diseases caused by mutations. It was Olha who calculated the pattern of mutations in DNA leading to cancer and many other diseases.

Nana Voitenko, a biologist

Professor, Doctor of Biological Sciences, neurobiologist, head of the department of sensory signaling of the Bohomolets Institute of Physiology of NAS of Ukraine. Nana Voitenko has been researching pain for more than 20 years. What do we know about pain? For most people on Earth, pain is something they'd like to get rid of as soon as possible if they feel it. Nana Voitenko deals with the nature of pain, as it occurs and spreads in the human's central and peripheral nervous systems. In the laboratory, Voitenko and her colleagues managed to develop an experimental treatment that affects only those cells involved in pain syndromes. Besides, Nana Voitenko is actively promoting science: she's a lecturer at the "Days of Science" initiative, was a lecturer at TED-x Kyiv in 2013, and the organizer of the "Week of Knowledge about the Brain." Science is close, and it's accessible to everyone.

Ella Libanova, an economist

Scientist in socioeconomics, demography, and labor economics, academician of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, Doctor of Economics, Professor, Honored Economist of Ukraine. Ella Libanova is an academician-secretary of the economics department of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine and, by the way, the first and only female member of the presidium of the National Academy of Sciences for 102 years of its work. She teaches social statistics at the Faculty of Economics of the Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv; introduced a method for measuring human development at the region level, used by the State Statistics Service of Ukraine for annual calculations.

Nina Virchenko, a mathematician

Professor of the Department of Mathematical Analysis and Probability Theory, Doctor of Physic and Mathematical Sciences Nina Virchenko is one of the most famous Ukrainian mathematicians. She is the author of more than 500 scientific and methodological works, including 20 books published in Ukrainian, Russian, English, and Japanese. Nina Virchenko is recognized not only in Ukraine but also abroad; she's a member of the Australian, American, Belgian, Edinburgh, London mathematical societies. In the end, it's not surprising, because mathematics knows no boundaries and recognizes all the achievements, wherever you obtain them.

Nina Virchenko's fate wasn't easy: at 18 in 1948, she was sentenced to 10 years in the Gulag camps for preparing a "political conspiracy, revolt" and participating in the "Ukrainian-nationalist gang." Years in the camps didn't stop the future doctor from achieving her dreams. In 1964, she defended her Ph.D. and her Dr. habil. dissertation in Kyiv in 1988.

Nataliia Vynohrad, an epidemiologist

Epidemiologist, professor, doctor of medical sciences, Nataliia Vynohrad manages the Department of Epidemiology of Lviv National Medical University. She's an expert of the World Health Organization in responding to epidemic threats and the Ministry of Health of Ukraine on epidemiology, an adviser to the Ministry of Emergencies of Ukraine on anti-epidemic protection and biosafety. Agree, you can't find a more relevant profession in 2020-2021. Once an ordinary girl from a village in the Khmelnytskyi region, and now the author of 305 scientific papers, and 8 copyright certificates for inventions and patents of Ukraine, proves that nothing is impossible for a girl who knows what she wants.

Nataliia Polonska-Vasylenko, a historian

From the early 20th century until the end of her life in the 1970s, our first heroine studied the history and archeology of Ukraine, both in Ukraine and later in exile in Germany and the Czech Republic. In a historically troublesome time for Ukraine, she became one of the leading representatives of the state school in Ukrainian historiography, that is, she promoted the idea of ​​independence and continuity of the Ukrainian historical process. Nataliia Polonska-Vasylenko is the author of almost 200 scientific works on the history of Zaporizhzhia and Southern Ukraine, which remain relevant to this day.

Valentyna Radzymovska, a biologist

One of the most prominent names in our history is Valentyna Radzymovska, a professor, doctor of medical and physiological sciences, founder of the Ukrainian school of physiologists and biochemists, and a public figure. The Soviet authorities repressed Valentyna Radzymovska for her political activities and participation in the Union for the Liberation of Ukraine in the 1930s. However, it didn't prevent her from becoming the author of more than 60 works on biochemistry, pathophysiology, pediatrics, psychoneurology, physiology, and phthisiology. Like the previous scientist in our article, she left Ukraine in 1945, emigrating first to Germany and then to the United States.

Radzymovska contributed hugely to the study of tuberculosis and its treatment in children.

Nina Morozhenko, a physicist

Although the sun is the closest star to us, it still hides many fascinating mysteries. Ukrainian astronomer, helio physicist, doctor of physic and mathematical sciences, author of 56 scientific works, Nina Morozhenko devoted her entire life to studying the structure of our guide light and the processes taking place on it. After all, everything happening on the Sun affects many areas of human activity. Without studying the sun, it's impossible to understand not only what the future holds for our civilization but also what is happening in space, i.e. on the distant stars the humanity is so eager to reach. Nina Morozhenko's scientific works on solar prominences were the first in the world and gave rise to scientific research by helio physicists from many countries. The Ukrainian researcher's significant contribution to the physics of the sun once again demonstrates that physics isn't a purely "male" science.

[vesper-tinus]

Hi Vespertine!! First off I wanted to say that I’m super impressed with how amazing your writing is considering English is your third language!! It is mine too, after Spanish and French, what about you?

Anyways I say your requests were open and I thought I could jump in and give you an idea. It’d be a König x female reader, in which she is a worldwide recognized sniper, but they only know her alias, so when she accepts a job at KorTac, König is smitten with her instantly, maybe she’s in the shooting range training at night and he comes up to her? What do you think?

Hello, anon!

What a lovely message, thank you so much! My languages are Danish, Italian, followed by English 😙 I took Spanish & German in school, unfortunately I don't remember much!

I love the idea! Hopefully I managed to write something you can agree with!

𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 König x F!Reader

Summary: On a late night, you find more at the shooting range than you expected. Keywords: König, female Reader, reader is a sniper, you have fun shooting guns in a safe environment 👍 König is giving puppy fanboy energy. Wordcount: 1206.

Bang.

Another shot rings throughout the empty, indoors shooting range. You lower your weapon, and unsurprisingly, your bullet ripped through the tacky, free sticker that came with a pair of shoes you bought recently. It might not be a normal use of stickers, but hey, you’re anything but normal… and the sticker was free. 

You press a button and the long-distanced fiberboard creaks towards you. 

They dubbed you "Lovelace''. After the mathematician. All due to your sharpened mind being able to perform extraordinary feats of warfare and calculations, all through the small scope of a sniper rifle. Companions have been noted to refer to you as either 'Love' or 'Lace', depending on the situation (and your relationship)—but those companions have been left behind for the time being. KorTec’s mercenaries are your companions now, though you have yet to actually meet any of them. 

With the board coming to an abrupt halt in front of you, you peel off the damaged sticker, replacing it with another, before sending the target away again, tracking it through your scope. 

Your ears perk at the sound of someone entering—even with the noise cancelling headphones—so you hold your fire and listen. 

From their footsteps, you can tell they are not attempting to disguise their approach towards you. So you mind your business, emptying your lungs before taking the shot—bullseye—and lower the rifle onto the desk before turning towards the newcomer. Sliding down the ear-protectors to rest around your neck. 

“Late-night practice?” Comes the question from the stranger, and you clock the Austrian accent almost immediately. You have toured there before for a mission. Great coffee. 

The answer to his question is an obvious one, but you humour him, and offer him a curt nod and pleasant smile. “Got it in one,” you say with welcoming tone, wiping your hand on your thigh as you approach him for a handshake. “I’m—”

“Lovelace. I—I know.”

You blink. You had not expected to hear your callsign to be said with such… enthusiasm. While you cannot see his face, the awe is undeniable on his tongue. His infatuation showed freely in his eyes—almost sparkling. Such piercing blue eyes, you think absentmindedly as your hand is shaken. He seems almost reluctant to let you go, and you cannot help but quirk a smile. You are rarely, if ever, met with such boyish fascination. 

“I have been following your career,” he says, straightening his back. “You’re an incredible sniper, it’s an honour to have you on the team.” His fingers twitch. It’s almost overwhelming meeting you in person. “I’m König,” he says, finally remembering he (rudely) interrupted your introduction. 

His stature is impressive, formidable even. And your eyes never leave his as you step backwards until you can lean against the desk—and funnily enough, he follows you. The image reminding you of a puppy trotting after its master. “I’m honoured you keep me in such high regards,” you say with a chuckle, mirth arising from your throat as one leg comes to cross over the other in a casual, relaxed posture. “It’s all very cute.” You glance up at him, a smile pulling up one corner of your mouth, your eyebrow raised just enough to tell him that he is not as subtle as he might think. “King.”

You translating his callsign should not affect him as much as it does, aber Scheiße does it cause him to do a double take. He clears his throat, coming to stand near you. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to say. So he goes for whatever the both of you have in common. Guns—more specifically, sniper rifles. 

“I, uh. I tried becoming a sniper once,” he says, eyeing the discarded rifle on the surface behind you. You follow his eyes, the only thing you can see of his face, and you unceremoniously hold the rifle up to him. Brow arched.

“Then you must have some training. Mind showing me what I’m working with?” Your tone is inviting, almost playful, as you encourage him to let loose. “-and if you want, I don’t mind giving pointers.” The last thing you want is him thinking you find yourself superior. You know how frustrating it can be, when others force “suggestions” on your techniques. Unfortunately, you have been the victim of many such men. 

Thankfully, König seems thrilled to have your expertise at his beck and call, and lines himself up in the booth. You give him the space he needs. “Hold fire,” you order, inspecting his posture, his grip on the rifle, and suddenly you can’t help but imagine yourself back at the many sniper courses you’ve attended. You see his trigger finger twitch, not enough to fire, but enough to make you comment on it. “Steady fingers, König.”

“Apologies. I am… excited,” he admits with a faint chuckle. He cannot help himself. He cannot help himself so he sneaks a glance at you, and he’s thankful that his expression is veiled, because he’s smiling.

“Alright, I’ve grilled you long enough. Compensate for bullet drop, and impress me.” 

He’s not sure if you caught him staring or not, but if you did, he’s thankful you didn’t mention it. “Yes,” he says, exhaling to empty his lungs as he prepares his shot. 

A short silence follows, and then… 

Bang.

The rifle shot echoes around you. Both your ears are, more or less, insensitive to it at this point. 

You squint your eyes as you check the target. Not a bullseye, but a few centimetres north of your original sticker-shot. You find yourself nodding in approval. König hasn’t moved a muscle after the shot, awaiting any further instructions. 

“Not a bad shot, König.” You pause, quirking a smile. “Go ahead and finish the magazine. Rapid fire.” Might as well put him through his paces, you’re curious to see how well he aims when pressured. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Comes the response.

Shot, after shot, after shot, after shot rings out. You are quick to notice that the more shots he’s firing, the less stable his posture is. But when the rifle empties its last bullet, König breathes a sigh as a hand disappears beneath his hood to rub his jaw. The gun rests on the tabletop, spent. 

Wordlessly, you press the button to call the fiberboard. 

“You have a hard time standing still,” you comment in a light-tone. A casual observation, not a reprimand. “Your pinky started twitching after the fourth round, and you kept repositioning your left leg.” Alright, that might have come off as reprimanding. “...but otherwise, good. Very good, even.” 

König rubs the back of his neck, almost embarrassed at the observations. “I doubt you would be surprised to know, that’s what kept me from graduating. That and my height.” 

You reach up to pat his shoulder before turning to the board.

What you find is not what you expected. 

A perfect circle encasing your bullet-hole. The shots almost perfectly aligned with two centimetres between each. You look to König, baffled at your discovery, and he chuckles as he notes your expression. You wait for an explanation, and he gives it after a moment. 

“Der König beschützt die Königin.”

The King protects the Queen.

[yandere-romanticaa]

William frustrates me beyond belief but I'm still so incredibly, madly in love with him. Also, reader is kinda yandere for William here as well. Reader is female.

The pale moon in the night sky starkly contrasted the glow of a freshly lit candle, its warm flames just barely reaching the parchment of paper. Her hands shook violently as (y/n) analyzed it, word for word, heart racing in her chest as she positively beamed with joy, her (e/c) blown open wide with excitement.

William had written back to her. Finally.

The two had developed a friendship a little bit over a year ago but what William remained oblivious to was that (y/n) had been helplessly in love with him for years now. The Moriarty family was well known and regarded within polite society and their status as free bachelors boosted their popularity even more so, especially amongst the women. No matter which Moriarty brother entered the room, they would turn heads and people would talk. Be it in awe or jealousy, the entire family was something worth gawking at. Truth be told, their staff was also the hot talk of the town. They were easy to talk to and friendly, Moran and Bonde in particular. That was exactly how the girl managed to step into the threshold of the house and finally have a proper word with the handsome mathematician.

Their talks started off innocent enough with William indulging her with his company every now and then. She managed to slide through the tough cracks of the mysterious man, bit by bit. She would watch him grade papers sometimes, his gaze cascaded downwards as (y/n) played the role of the dutiful young lady who was minding her own business over some hot tea.

(y/n) was many, many things and eager was one of them. This, whatever this was - it was not enough for her. More, she needs more. Having afternoon tea with William was the highlight of her day but by God, it felt as though she was going to implode!! William, ever the gentleman, never once made a move on her, no inappropriate glance, no comment, nothing. Be it day or night William was constantly keeping her at the edge of her seat, wondering whether or not he would actually do something. Sometimes, if she was lucky, she could feel the touch of his slender fingers against her own as they both reach for the sugar. Their eyes would meet and William would give her a sweet smile, never actually recoiling in shame or embarrassment. Did this mean he was fond of her? Was she overanalyzing it? She couldn't know, William was such a hard person to get a good read on. (y/n) knew that no one was perfect in this world but in her eyes, William was more brilliant than the stars that hung high in the night sky.

Letting out a sigh, (y/n) hugs his letter close to her chest as she looks out the open window, the crisp air giving her a sense of relief as it blew into the room and onto her hot skin. It was so late in the evening, no one was awake now. What even was the point of all this?

Unbeknownst to her, William was wide awake in his office as he looked out his own window, his cheek resting on the palm of his hand as a wicked little smirk made its way onto his face. Several papers were sprawled out in front of him, all of which were your letters. William took great pleasure in reading them all from time to time and analyzing everything you said. You tried so hard to act like a perfect little noblewoman, always having a polite smile on your face and carefully choosing each word you dared to utter. He felt a little bad, toying with you like this, keeping you dancing on the very edge until you finally crack.

William was desperate to see the real you, the oh so jealous (y/n) who did her best to hide her seething rage in front of the other ladies who gushed about William right in front of you. He never failed to spot the way you bite the inside of your cheek, the rage in your eyes was so evident but oh so precious. He was selfish, keeping you on his tight leash like this but it was all worth it in the end. He was driving you mad with desire and before long, he was sure that you are close to your breaking point.

He can't wait to have you, all of you.

There was nothing in the world that could stop him.

[sashaisready]

The ‘You’ Problem - One Shot

Beefy!Bucky x Female!SHIELD!Reader

*bangs clipboard* ONE BED! ONE BED! ONE BED!

Guys…I threw this together today on a whim. Apologies in advance for the utterly self indulgent fluff with a bit of smut thrown in for good measure. You’ve got all my fave tropes here - one bed, forced proximity, misunderstandings and bad communication, grumpy and sunshine..

In my mind this is Beefy!Bucky (CW era Bucky) but you are of course invited to envisage your favourite Bucky. There is a slightly silly plot point about him being thicc (lmao). Reader is female, not physically described.

I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

warnings: bit’o’smut

Wordcount: around 4.4k (lol)

🛏️

You could see his face fall as he opened the door. Your eyes followed his past the safe house entrance and inside through to the open plan cabin. 

All on one floor. A small kitchenette, basic but seemingly clean at least. A cheap, plastic dining table with a few dingy chairs tucked into the far corner. A crumpled leather sofa that had seen better days. A battered old door at the rear that you assumed lead to the bathroom (you hoped, anyway). A large fireplace with a basket of logs next to it - merciful after a long trek out in the cold air. And- Oh. 

Oh. 

A double bed in the middle of the space. 

A bed. As in…singular. One. 

It didn’t take a Mathematician to work out the equation of two people plus one bed and what that equalled.

Especially when one of those people seemed particularly prickly towards the other, for reasons the other didn’t fully understand.

Tonight would be the most awkward night’s sleep of your life. 

“Great…” growled Bucky sarcastically as he reluctantly crossed the threshold, dropping the duffle bags of equipment by the fireplace.

“Hmm, homely” you chirped, hoping a joke might ease the tension. Of course he didn’t respond. 

You dropped your gaze as he began stripping his tactical gear off, piling it onto the arm of the couch. He tugged off his boots and wordlessly headed to the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

You sighed heavily. He must’ve said ten words to you in total on this mission. The mission itself had gone well, at least. You had got the intel you needed and neither of you had been compromised in the process. You had got in and out. As a SHIELD agent you didn’t normally work with the Avengers directly in the field, but Stark and Steve had put you on this one with Bucky because of his stealth skills and your knowledge of tech and a particular comms device that was difficult to master - even for the best heroes in the biz. 

You knew them all. Well. Ish. You saw them around the tower. Helped them with surveillance and intel. Most of them were sweet and chatty, nothing like the mythical, two-dimensional hero figures the media portrayed them to be. Sure, they were brilliant at what they did but they were also warm. Flawed. Human. Steve was a sweetie, Tony was an egomaniac but he could hold a conversation at least. Nat was a great ally to have but an even better friend. Sam made you laugh like nobody else. They were your friends. 

Well. Almost all of them. 

Bucky had never really…well…warmed to you. You remember the first day Steve had introduced you both, you had eagerly outstretched your hand to shake his and you watched as his nervous eyes flitted between your hand and Steve. He finally took it reluctantly, muttering a hello as he quickly dropped your hold and stormed off. 

And that was that. You had tried to get to know him but he simply wasn’t interested. He’d only speak to you if he absolutely had to for work, grunted if you asked him something and seemed to do everything in his power to keep a wide berth between the two of you. At first you assumed it was because of what he’d been through, brainwashed assassins carrying the weight of their trauma are hardly known for their perky attitude and charismatic social skills. Maybe he just had a problem with people... 

But you soon noticed he wasn’t really like that with anyone else. Sure, he was prickly and a bit sarcastic, but he engaged. He talked. He laughed. God, you loved his laugh. Sweet. Unencumbered. Slightly dorky. It made you smile on the rare occasions you were lucky enough to hear it. 

He would squabble with Sam. Bond with Steve. Train with Nat. You thought maybe it was because you were just an agent, but he was better with the others. Always reserved, sure, but he’d chat to your SHIELD colleagues. He’d ask them for help with the tech. You were pretty sure he flirted with Emily, another agent on your team, and you couldn’t ignore the quiet thrum of jealousy in your stomach when you heard them chatting animatedly about pizza toppings or that time you caught her sliding her hand over his vibranium arm..

…no. He didn’t seem to have a people problem. Just a ‘you’ problem. 

You weren’t sure what you’d done to upset him, and you were too embarrassed to ask Steve in case you looked whiny and desperate. It wasn’t really a good look for a SHIELD agent to pathetically ask an Avenger why his friend didn’t like her. This wasn’t high school. 

You had a reputation for being a bit sunshine-y. You were always quite cheery at work, doing your best to put a brave face on and inject optimism where you could. It was just how you’d always been. It kept you going. Service with a smile. The world was a dark place, and you figured a little extra light was no bad thing. Maybe Bucky took offence to it, writing you off as a perky airhead. Maybe he’d seen too much death and destruction to see the world the way you did, and you simply annoyed him because of it. 

Only the man himself knew the real reason. You’d accepted you may never be sure. So you did your best to work with him, pretending not to notice his snarky comments and unimpressed looks. Smiling through your pain like always. Generally it was easy, you didn’t spend much time with him anyway.

…Until you were stuck on a mission with him. Waiting for the quinjet in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a tiny cabin in the dead of winter, with one bed and only the man who hated you for company. 

The man you also had a teensy bit of a crush on, too. Yes, it wasn’t ideal to crush on the one person who seemed to loathe you, but clearly you were a dumbass. 

You were rudely pulled from your thoughts by a loud spluttering and spitting noise. It took you a second to realise it must be the cabin’s creaky pipes warming up, so Bucky was showering. You did your best not to think about him all naked and soaped up and wet and-

You flung your laptop open and got to work uploading the files from the mission, sending your report over to head office and sending a quick summary to Stark. At least there was signal out here. Working is good. Only productive thoughts. No room for shower thoughts. 

You were so engrossed in your emails that you didn’t hear the bathroom door swing open behind you. 

“Bathroom’s free” said a gruff voice that made you jump in surprise.

You whipped around to face him and did your best to keep your eyes from falling out of your head when you were faced with Bucky fresh from the shower. Small water droplets ran down his chiselled chest, his long hair damp and falling in soft tendrils, a perfectly prominent ‘V’ pointing down to you-know-where, all topped off with the tiniest towel known to man clinging to his hips. The hardest working piece of fabric you’d ever seen.

You felt your face flush and nodded overly enthusiastically. 

“G-great, thanks” you mumbled.

He seemed to oblivious to your discomfort so you took that moment to dash to the bathroom yourself, leaning against the door after you’d closed it and doing your best to keep it together. You just needed to get through the night. The quinjet was coming to get you in the morning. You could do this. You could survive tiny towels and fresh soaped abs until then. 

You took your sweet time showering, ignoring the mildewy tiles and inconsistent water temperature to spend as much time hidden in the bathroom as possible. You finally admitted defeat and emerged, drying yourself with one of the threadbare towels and changing into some sweats.

“Was about to contact HQ and tell them you’d drowned in the bathroom” Bucky deadpanned as you re-entered the main cabin. He didn’t look up, his eyes locked on his phone as he laid on the bed. Bucky in bed. He was dressed in dark sweats, the fresh smell emanating from him almost intoxicating.

“I just…like to be clean after a mission” you replied, your voice slightly wobbly. 

He nodded, his eyes flickering up to yours. “Yeah, I get that” he mumbled.

This was probably the most you’d spoken to each other all afternoon. You suppressed your surprise.

“You tired?” He asked, his tone almost interrogating. He seemed wide awake. You supposed super soldiers didn’t really need as much sleep as mere mortals did. 

“Mm. A little” you responded, trying to appear nonchalant and not show how desperate you were to curl up and pass out. Not that you thought you could in such close proximity to him.

In an attempt to appear relaxed you stretched your arms and inadvertently knocked a little wooden pinecone ornament off the small side table next to you. It flew almost comically across the room, bouncing on the floor and smashing against the kitchen cabinet (thankfully remaining intact).

The silence was heavy. Bucky raised an eyebrow as you quickly scuttled and retrieved it, hastily putting it back in place. You could’ve sworn his face betrayed a sliver of amusement but it quickly moulded back to his standard-issue stoicism.

“They confirmed that the jet will be here at 0730 tomorrow” he murmured, looking back at his phone. 

The fact he hadn’t acknowledged your faux pas made it even more embarrassing. You nodded quickly and tried to ignore the sudden heat in your cheeks. 

Fortunately the evening progressed with no other embarrassments. You both had a dinner of instant noodles in silence, then spent some time separately tying up the loose ends on your respective mission duties - sending emails, debriefing Steve on the phone. You don’t think Bucky smiled even once.

Your heart thumped in your chest as it got later and darker, until you could no longer avoid the elephant in the room.

However it was Bucky who raised it, nipping it in the bud with his trademark pragmatism.

“I’ll take the couch” he said sternly. “You can have the bed”.

“Oh…thanks. But it’s okay, if you want the bed-” you started to protest but he cut you off. 

“It’s fine” he barked. 

You couldn’t deny that avoiding the awkwardness of having to share a bed was a relief, although a small part of you felt a tiny bit disappointed. 

“There’s only one blanket…” you said warily as your eyes scanned the cabin for something you may have missed…a blanket basket..a linen closet, anything…

“Don’t need one” he quickly dismissed as he laid down on his back atop the couch, wriggling his body against the cushions to get comfortable. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands over his chest. You couldn’t resist stealing a peek. He looked so angelic with his eyes closed. So much softer and sweeter than he normally did. You swallowed a gasp and quickly turned away before he caught you.

You took that as your cue to climb into the bed, shivering slightly as you pulled the shabby blanket tightly against you. The fire Bucky had lit in the fireplace earlier had finally burnt out, and you were suddenly very aware of how cold it was between these four wooden walls.

“Night” you said gently as you switched off the beside lamp, plunging the cabin into darkness.

Bucky merely grunted and you heard him roll over onto his side, the couch creaking painfully under his weight. Well, he was a big guy. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to fall asleep quickly, not wanting to think too hard about how the most handsome man you’d ever met was sleeping mere feet away from you. A braver version of you would be honest about how you really felt, using this close proximity to ask him directly what his issue with you was. An even braver version would use this opportunity to move over to the sofa and stroke his hair from his eyes and lean over and-

But you were a coward. 

You would likely never be alone with him like this ever again, and here you were wimping out and cowering in bed. Typical. 

You realised you could still hear the couch creaking. It seemed to be getting louder. That was odd. Bucky wasn’t even moving. What even was that? It sounded like…something cracking?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud snapping sound, then a huge crash and then eventually Bucky yelling. You’re suddenly frantic, in panic mode as you immediately assumed the safe house has been compromised and the two of you had somehow been tracked. You fling yourself out of bed, grabbing the pistol you stashed by the nightstand and practically smashing the lamp switch, ready to take down whoever has broken in.

As the cabin is illuminated you’re stunned by sight in front of you. 

Bucky is laying on the floor, his face like thunder as he scowls and curses. The couch is…somehow…cut perfectly in two, sliced down the middle.

“What the…?” You stammer as you lower your gun and take in the scene. 

Bucky suddenly sits up and leans over, assessing the wreckage. 

“It’s goddam termites!!” He spits.

“Huh??” You utter, struggling to make sense of what’s going on.

“Termites!!” He yells again, angrily gesturing at where the couch has split. 

You lean in and can now see the jagged edges of the exposed wooden frame, huge holes dotted along the structure. Yep, he was right - termites. 

“They’ve clearly been eating away at this old-ass couch for some time, it must’ve finally given up” he says furiously. His vibranium fingers squeeze into a fist and he angrily punches through some of the remaining chewed-up frame.

You did your best. Truly you did. But nothing could stop the wave of laughter that bubbled out of you in that moment. The image of Bucky in a heap on the floor…the deafening crash…the ridiculous debris of the couch…the fear of intruders…it was simply all too much. You threw your head back and laughed. Your laughter was a runaway train, impossible to stop. It wasn’t just the absurdity of the tableau in front of you…it was all of the tension and awkwardness that had been brewing between you and Bucky. All of your stress. The laugh was a cathartic release of all of it. 

Bucky scowled as he got to his feet. “It’s not that funny…” he muttered.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry…” you managed to yelp as you caught your breath. “I thought…I thought we were under attack, I drew…drew my gun and everything. But it was just…just…” you inhaled sharply. “It was just…your big super soldier ass smashing up the couch”.

Bucky’s eyes widened at that. You watched the anger darken his features before the corner of his mouth rolled up into a smirk. The smirk became a smile. The smile became a grin. The grin became a laugh. He was laughing!! Bucky was actually laughing!! 

“Who you callin’ big ass?” He sneered, although the playfulness was clear as day. 

That only made you laugh harder. 

You both stood there and laughed until your eyes watered and your sides hurt, eventually running out of steam. Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with disdain.

“You think they could spring for a Holiday Inn or something” he scoffed. “I know it’s slim pickings out in the middle of nowhere, but surely they could find something better than this shitbox”.

You chuckled. “Tony cheaping out I guess. But it’s kinda cosy at least…”

Bucky scoffed again. “Why do you always do that?” He said accusingly.

You frowned. “Do what?”

“Try to…put a positive spin on everything. Sometimes things just suck and that’s okay”.

You blanched, surprised. He’d never asked you anything like that before. “Well…uh…it’s just who I am I guess. Keeps me going”.

He studied you carefully. “Well…okay. But as long as you know it’s okay to just let something be shitty. You don’t always have to put on a brave face”.

Your eyes widened, surprised at the tenderness in his tone. “I’m not…putting it on. It’s just…me”.

He nodded. You realised this was your one chance. You had to take it.

“Is that why…you’re always so cold to me? You think I’m some phoney pretending the world is all sunshine and rainbows” you asked hesitantly. 

He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. 

“Huh?”

“C’mon, don’t insult my intelligence, Bucky. We both know you’re not exactly my best friend” you prodded. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been kinda a jerk. I guess I’m not really used to people like you…and I don’t know how to be”.

“People like me…?”

He smirked. “Optimists”.

“Oh…”

“It’s nothing personal” he continued. “I guess with my background…I just…don’t really come across too many peppy people in our line of work. I find it hard to get my head around. But it’s my problem…not yours”.

You nodded, taken aback by his candour. “Alright…I get that. But…I haven’t ever done anything to you. And I’d like it if we could maybe say more than five words to each other over an eight hour mission…”

He grimaced. “Yeah. Look…I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to take my issues out on you. Can we start over? Try again?” 

His voice was hopeful. He sounded genuine. You couldn’t help but feel the excitement of this new progress swirl in your tummy. 

You smiled. “Yeah. That would be good. Thanks”.

He nodded, smiling back at you. “Okay. Let’s talk more about it tomorrow…But for now we probably should get some sleep. It’s late”.

He sighed wearily and sat back on the floor, stretching out and laying on his back.

You watched this, baffled. “What…are you doing?”

He looked up at you in annoyance. “What does it look like?” He said sarcastically.

“It…looks like you’re sleeping on the hard floor with no blankets or pillows”.

“Well I can’t sleep on the broken couch can I…”

“Just get into the bed” you sighed

He sat up, eyeing you with suspicion. “What?”

“The bed. We can share. We’re both adults aren’t we? Serum or not, you’re not getting any sleep on that wooden floor. Plus, it’s freezing in here”.

He tilted his head. “And you’re sure you’re okay with that? Because I can sleep here just fine…I’ve had worse”

You shrugged, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You walked back over to the bed and pulled the covers back as you hopped back in. 

“Sure. Just try not to break this too, okay big ass?” You replied playfully. “Tony will end up sending us a bill if you keep wrecking the joint.”

He rolled his eyes as he relented, strolling over and flopping onto the other side of the bed. “Whatever. But if you snore I will wake you up”.

You grinned, delighted at the shift in atmosphere. Maybe Bucky would never like you the way you liked him, but if you had a chance at being his friend you would take that. You would grasp it with both hands and never let go.

Once you both settled down and you switched off the lamp for the second time that night, your head hit the pillow and you did your best to fall asleep. You tried to ignore the sheer heat radiating from the heavy body next to you. You didn’t really get up close and personal with Bucky so had no idea he ran this hot. Serum thing, you guessed. The mattress sagged under the weight of his bulk and you were painfully aware of how close you were to him, his back to you. You could’ve barely reached out and easily brushed his fingers. His thick shoulders were right there. His strong thighs were just by you. His beautiful blue eyes were resting beneath his eyelids. You felt your mouth go dry and squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep and rescue your mind from this psychic torment.

Unfortunately the cabin’s poor insulation quickly made itself known and soon all you could think about was how cold you were. How did this place only have one blanket?? You couldn’t even wrap yourself up in it properly because Bucky had half. You fantasised about endless duvets and comforters, fluffy pillows and hot water bottles. Electric blankets and knitted quilts.

You were debating getting up and going to try find another layer of clothing in your pack when Bucky’s grumpy voice interrupted. 

“Can you keep still? Jeez”.

You realised then that you were shivering. The trembling of your limbs was causing you to shake, gently rocking the bed.

“I’m sorry…it’s cold okay?” You hissed in the dark.

“Oh c‘mon…” he sneered.

“We aren’t all super soldiers!!” You spat, clenching your teeth together to stop them chattering. “I’m not a human bonfire like you”. 

“Ugh. So dramatic. Come’ere” he groaned.

Before you could fully compute he rolled over and pulled you into his arms, nestling you in his grasp. 

You had become the little spoon. 

“Uh…” you eked out in surprise.

“Shut up and go to sleep” he scolded lightly. “You can’t still be cold now…”

You shook your head, your brain short circuiting. It was as if every possible thought had left you all at once. You felt the dual sensation of metal and flesh hug your torso, the warmth of his breath by your ear. And oh god the heat. The heat.

You laid perfectly still as if any sudden movements would startle him and shake him out of this. You heard his breathing deepen suddenly and at first you thought he was falling asleep…but then you felt it.

It indeed.

There was something hard pressing into your bottom. 

You felt your face flush. Your mouth fell agape. He knew exactly what he was doing. This wasn’t an accident. A flash of boldness hit you like a lightning bolt, his audaciousness igniting something within you. You couldn’t process what this meant right now, you just had to ride the wave, so to speak. He rocked into you a little harder. You had to make it clear that you knew what this was. So you experimentally pushed your hips back against his. You were cautious, a slow manoeuvre at first to test the water. He grunted, then slowly moved himself forward once more, pressing himself harder against you. You pushed back again, uttering a small moan which he reciprocated with his own. You did this for a little while, pressing against each other and finding a rhythm. The only sounds were your clothes swishing against the sheets and a quiet chorus of whimpers and groans. No words were spoken. 

He carefully snaked his vibranium arm around you and you shuddered as he raised your shirt, walking his fingers down across your bare stomach to your hips, daringly pulling back the waistband of your sweats. He took his time, his breath dense against your ear as you closed your eyes and felt the cool metal trace your scorching skin beneath.

His digits toyed with the side of your underwear with painful slowness, his breathing quickening as he continued to rock his bulge into your backside. You could only whine as his fingers finally breached the fabric and made their way inside. He groaned heavily into your neck as he found the readiness of your essence, viscous and dripping from his fingers as he traced further and further in. You whimpered as he finally put you out of your misery and found your clit, expertly toying with it but applying enough pressure to build and build and build…

You rocked eagerly against his hand as he slipped one metal finger inside of you. Then two. All in rhythm with the thrust of your hips in time with his. His circling increased suddenly, his fingers continued to pump and you gasped as you reached your peak, finally reaching the top and plummeting off the edge, your voice hoarse and laboured as you cried out into the dark cabin, the stars of your climax both dizzying and intoxicating.

He held you close as you fell back down to earth, still not a word spoken by either of you. Nothing had needed to be said. He gently removed his hand from your panties and cupped your chin, wrenching your face to his and gifting you the sweetest, softest kiss you’d ever experienced. His lips brushing yours with tenderness and care. A stark contrast to the salacious way he’d touched you. 

“I haven’t been entirely honest…” he spoke into the dark, his voice hoarse and strained with lust.

You stroked his cheek fondly. “Mm?”

“It wasn’t just your…optimism” he told you as he kissed you again. “I…I couldn’t handle the way I felt about you. I always liked you…always wanted you. From that very first moment Steve introduced us. I was a goner. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t know how to talk to you. So I purposefully put space between us. It was immature, I know” he sighed. 

You smiled into the dark, your head reeling from all the ways the world had changed in the last hour. Your heart exploding after finally hearing the words you’d longed for. The words you’d never expected to actually hear.

“You’re so soft…and sweet. I like the way you try and see the good in everything. It makes me wanna be less of a grumpy asshole. And you make me laugh. The way you sent that pinecone flying earlier…” he chuckled. “You’re utterly ridiculous. You know that?”

You grinned. “You didn’t laugh!! It made it so much worse that you didn’t laugh…”

He sniggered. “I’m sorry. Look. I wanted to. I just didn’t want you to think I was making fun of you”.

You giggled, touched by the strange but well meaning logic. 

“Will you give me a chance to make it up to you?” He asked softly, his hand lazily running up your thigh. 

“Bucky…”

“Yeah, doll?”

“The quinjet will be here in a few hours. So you better get started on that apology…”

You felt his smile in the dark as his lips touched yours again, one arm pulling you into him as the other began to tug down your sweats. 

“You’re on doll, you’re on”.

[toddstool]

I love you female chemists, I love you female plumbers, I love you female biologists, I love you female professors, I love you female presidents, I love you female astronauts, I love you female athletes, I love you female politicians, I love you female electricians, I love you female metal workers, I love you female farmers, I love you female doctors, I love you female dentists, I love you female coders, I love you female mathematicians, I love you female construction workers, I love you female CEOs, I love you female mechanics, I love you female engineers, I love you female mayors, I love you female business owners, I love you female writers, I love you female activists, I love you female fighters, I love you female wood workers, I love you female veterinarians, I love you female pilots, I love you female firefighters, I love you female judges

and a very special I love yous to the tomboys. to the little girls forced into dresses and heels and makeup. to the weird little girls that just wanna play sports and pick up bugs. to the girls that love science. to the little girls that hate their long hair because it gets in the way of their activities. to the girls forced to go to church. i love you so much, it gets better.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

What Would They Name Their Children? (Headcanons)

Rise!Turtles

A/N: More names!💚 And for some reason, I decided to use gifs that made me laugh lol.

Warnings: None💚

Raphael:

Big brother Raph might very much want some more “traditional” names for his children. Names that might be a little bit more common, but still very beautiful. Of course, Raph would very much want to hear what his future partner thinks of these names, before settling on any of them.

For Boys:

Edward, meaning “rich guard”.

Arthur, meaning “strong as a bear”.

Adam, the name of the first human man in the Bible.

For Girls:

Beatrice, from French, Italian and Latin origin meaning “voyager” or “traveler”.

Eleanor, meaning “one who is as bright as sun rays”.

Alice, meaning “of the nobility”.

Leonardo:

Would it surprise anyone that Neon Leon would want to give his children a Spanish name? Not really. Most people would have seen that coming from a mile away. A very avid Spanish speaker himself, it just feels natural for Leo. And if his future partner is up for it, then he already has a few ideas.

For Boys:

Marco, most likely derived from Mars, the god of war.

Joaquín, the Spanish version of the name Joachim.

Alejandro, the Spanish variant of the name Alexander.

For Girls:

Gabriela, meaning “God is my strength.

Esmeralda, meaning “emerald”.

Lucia, meaning “light”.

Donatello:

Donnie’s partner wouldn’t even have to ask - Donnie would name his children after some of the greatest scientists there have ever been. However, with Donald being the way that he is, he would want to be extravagant with those names. He would want them to have old and long names, thinking that they sound not just nice, but beautiful.

For Boys:

Archimedes, after the Greek mathematician.

Pythagoras, after the Greek philosopher, mathematician and music theorist.

Avicenna, after the Persian doctor, philosopher and politician.

For Girls:

Mercuriade, after the 14th century Italian female physician and surgeon. One of the few of her time.

Aglaonice, after the Greek astronomer.

Guillemette, after Guillemette du Luys, the royal French surgeon of king Louis XI of France.

Michelangelo:

Mikey would want to decide on a name, before the birth of his child. A name he can use to reference the child, in a way that feels more natural to him. But he would do this very early on, seeing that as one of the many reasons why Angelo would only want to give his children gender neutral names. A name he would be able to use early on, while giving his child a chance to explore their own identity, with a name that wouldn’t upstruct that.

Phoenix, after the mythological creature.

Peyton, from the Old English language, with an unknown meaning.

Lennox, meaning “place of elms” in Gaelic.

Madhu, from Sanskrit meaning “sweet”.

Presley, meaning “priest” or “clearing” in Old English.

Bellamy, meaning “beautiful friend” in Old French.