#sry got tired of coding

[ddelline]

wip saturday (feat post-canon nobamaki & platonic h/c champions yūji/nobara)

blurb | that's right, we're back to this one. rocking up at 16k at the moment, I'm thinking of rounding it up....... soon....... I hope lmao god f*cking damnit. it wasn't meant to be this. anyway, nobamaki to the nation, I have no regrets after all

premise | ngl, this snippet now posted may be one of my fave parts in this, even though it's not nobamaki at all. usually I keep on those scenes, but it's barely a quarter of the full scenario, so. anyway I love my dysfunctional, trauma!bonded sibling-coded friends 4 life!yūji/nobara (what would their ship acronym even be lol) sfm wtf 🥺 yea so feat post-canon yūji & nobara & comatose megumi (sry boo, it makes for gud Angst what can I say) Going Thru It; part of the post-canon nobamaki that's been in the works for a while now, exploring trauma, and what surviving sukuna & kenjaku does to a bitch

The corridor outside Fushiguro’s suite unfolds barren and bloodless in both directions. Nobara clicks the door shut behind herself and steps to the left. She leans heavily into the wall and tips her chin upwards. She feels small, prone to shattering; feels the shape of her heart in her throat—how it presses wet and bloody and heavy against her trachea. She digs her fists into her eyes and knuckles across her eyeballs until stars pang on the insides of her eyelids.

Her voice, once she trusts it to come through as something more than disjointed, reedy breaths and gulped breaths, is wet and pitiful. “Fucking—shit. Goddamnit, Fushiguro.” 2019 coming in hot and hopeful as a thing with feathers, she thinks, and thunks her head against the wall. Her eyes are smarting with unshed tears. She tugs the sleeve of her sweater over her knuckles and reaches up, mopping angrily at her lower lashes.

She’s not sure if she gets five or fifteen more minutes to herself before the door clicks softly open. Itadori sticks out his head. Nobara refuses to look at him. He doesn’t push. Only steps out to join her. In the greater span of things, her feelings don’t exactly matter, but she feels like she needs every tiny, feeble victory that can be afforded her.

“It’s okay now. He’s steady again,” says Itadori. He nudges her with his foot. She shuffles left to give him space to sit down next to her.

“We should call Ieiri-san,” says Nobara. She’s tired; all the adrenaline flushed from her system. Itadori nods. “I did. She’s coming.”

Nobara isn’t sure what she expects from the situation now, but whatever it is, it certainly isn’t for Itadori to hook his arm over her shoulder and tug her flush against himself. Nobara stiffens. “Stop that,” she says. Itadori doesn’t deign her with a reply. Nor, apparently, will he budge. She wedges a palm between them and pushes at his ribs. “What are we, five? You think it’s all gonna be okay with a hug? Let go.”

It’s what she thinks and what she feels—but it’s got maybe half her heart in it at best. She’s fraying in the seams: it makes everything seem a little heavier; all of Itadori's clammy puppy dog love a little less urgent to quash beneath the heel of her boot. She shoves at him weakly again, mostly for posterity; it contains little energy, less genuine protest. Itadori seems to sense it as well as Nobara knows it, and responds in turn by tensing his triceps—fashions an unyielding cage of his arm and side.

Fuck. “Fine.” Nobara isn’t so dumb she can’t gauge a situation’s futility when it’s staring her balefully in the eye. She lets her hand drop between them. “Breathe a word of this to a single soul and I’ll have you dismembered.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Itadori. She can’t see it, but she knows he’s just rolled his eyes. He shifts carefully around until he’s semi-facing her. “C’mon, move with me.” 

Nobara concedes without any more protests; tolerates herself being rearranged and only slits a half-hearted glare up at his dumb face for it. Itadori touches her no more than necessary, though no more carefully than Nobara suspects he does anyone or anything else. She twitches only marginally when palms not her own are fitted on the outside of an elbow; when they push on the flat of her bicep, and tugs her forward by the shoulder. Once he has her fitted in the crook of his arm and bracketed between his knees, her forehead pressed into his shoulder, he stills.

Nobara sighs. She offsets more weight into her forehead, allows for her neck to go slack and shuts her eyes. She’s beginning to accept that she needs one or more forms of rest, preferably right now, if she’s going to stand even the slimmest chance against the deep-seated fatigue that’s making a home of the physicality of her. 

They sit like that for a while: Itadori curled like an open bracket around her; Nobara sagging progressively heavier into the curvature of his ribs. His left arm is warm and solid where it’s hefted over her shoulder. After a while he fits his chin over the cap of her skull. Nobara blinks into the darkness of him. Her thoughts are beginning to take on a sticky quality like warm tar. “Itadori,” she muffles into his sweater.

Itadori presses his chin almost imperceptibly downwards. “Hm?”

“Happy New Year. Shithead.”

[maynguenebananas]

im so here for the music recs i like that good noise so here u go;

—first if u like whole albums—

-‘everything that dies someday comes back’, by uniform, and the body (sound of the summer for mee)

-‘absence’ by dälek (early noise rap, solid vibes)

-‘vagina’ by vantana row (second soundtrack of my summer but i’ll never stop i love her)

-‘you wont get what you want’ by daughters (good to listen to in the bathtub with all the lights off, or while driving ur car off a bridge)

-‘queen tired’ by elizabeth colour wheel

-‘love is love, return to dust’ by code orange kids (like truly one of my favorite albums ever ever)

n some more artists that i love too;

-soulglo (warehouse punk/noiserap from philly)

-backxwash (i found her on here actually! she calls what she does doomrap)

-chatpile (more musical accompaniment to flavor ur psychotic break with)

-pleasure coffin (shes a local)

oopsie thats a lot sry!!! n e way hope i got at least one in there that hits!!♡♡♡

omg thank u so much for these <3 gonna do some listening tonight

[kamil-a]

TOO BAD YOU GET THE CROSSPOST. SO I FINISHED ACOTAR BOOK 1 hot takes thoughts etc . [cat's name] had to hear this outloud said 2 him several times.

1. THE FANTASY OF IT ALL

i dont mean this section as value judgment i mean it as pure observation: theres very little masking The Fantasy of this book. it feels in the same vein as like, a cornerstone of certain dub/noncon fantasies, right (NOT SAYING THE SEX IN ACOTAR IS NONCON JUST GO WITH ME ONE MOMENT) , that there is something you cant/wont bring yourself to desire and so it must be Done to you and so you are blameless and innocent of the crime of wanting things as the circumstances have been FORCED to change, not that you'll ever admit it. its kind of funny tbh watching her go noooo i am beholden to my hellish life!!! dont you DARE give me beautiful clothing and hot delicious food (1). especially with how the narration is going SOOOOO hard on how lush hot erotic sexy delicious everything often is lol.

the last third of the book almost feels like amarantha is breaking unspoken rules, like everyones in on a big playpretend game except for her, whos being evil for real. but even she creates the conditions for the rhys stuff to appear later in which is like... its more fantasy. oh nooo im beholden to you im absolutely sickened by this intricate beautiful helpful tattoo. etc. anyway i could go on more but tldr this book knows exactly what it is (sexy romance fantasy) and feels like reading blueprints or a skeleton at times. not a bad thing if you like doing that.

2. THERE R SOME SPECIFIC ASS ``SITUATIONS`` IN THIS WORLD

the reveal was so so so good i loved it. fayre is The Chosen One in the way of the typewriter monkey who finally got a page of hamlet down. it feels like a laterbook twist thatd have me going no WAYYYYYY that was planned from book 1 except it LITERALLY WAS. its wild. i was already cracking up at rhys trying to move the romance plot along but like realizing in hindsight he was going BREAK THE CURSE DUMMIES is even better. if u cant tell by now rhys is my fave.

3. hehe narssstyyy gore

no but rly she doesnt pull her punches huh??? the slow zoomout of the initial wolf killed being a person w friends, loved ones, but also a knowing sacrifice.... WAUGH that was good imo. i think the only nasty stuff that felt Extraneous to me was the 2 ppl fayre had to kill immediately before Getting It All lol like cant u have done that 5 min previous. lol. anyway a lot was soooo gross creepy scary

4. rhys stan 4 lyfe and nesta RULEZ those are my 2 faves

every single rhys dialogue tag save for 1 conversation being like he eargasmically crooned in an erotic way regardless of appropriate for situation (2) (THE GUARDS AT EVIL DUNGEON???) is sooooo funny to me. except that one where hes like im miserable im tired. hes blood hnkna coded to me so i instantly love him sry the second he appeared and hes doing some sillyvoiced ``yaaaaa ojousan``-equivalant stuff it was over 4 me.

also HES DOING EVERYTHING HE CAN TO HELP...... GO GO RHYS.

anyway i assume his arc will be like the sexiest men are the most abusetraumad. i suspect he'll kiss her passionately and die defending her.

ALSO NESTA NESTA NESTA i love her i love her anger that stems from true care. i LOVED the middlepart re-meeting and how it allows her to be re-framed from Bad Conditions Backdrop to a real person with internality.... maybe maybe even a similar zoomout to the wolf maybe in a way? this person is more than just an npc in your story. they have dreams you know. etc. anyway. GO NESTA!!!!

Lucien is good but idk much what to say. cool eye?

tamlin is bog standard romance lead i dont care for him one way or other.

5. This is a distinct book1 take but rn i think if theres any character whos """problematic" its amarantha. everyone was having a gr8 time at the kink party till you started making ppl uncomfy for real. tho maybe some ppl are into the harder fantasies she provides lol..... i was hoping thered be feyre/amarantha toxic yuri but really no no absolutely not (2) (<-as well)

6. JURIAN RING RULES. like do you see this shit jurian.

7. i thought the riddle was either "time" or "fame" lol i feel silly now

(1) saw a tiktok 2 this effect once, only now realized it mustve been a direct acotar parody

(2)this is an *aggressively* het book. AGGRESSIVELY, so much abt females and males and their attraction....but hiiii hiiiiiii rhys making lucien and tamlin beg. i know im Power Play Georg (outliar, uncountable) but it is the book not me that said he said it like "like a lover". even if it was just doing its usual sexy dialogue tagging. heloooooooooo.

i read acotar over the last days of sukkos who wants the #takes

[stuckonstarker]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬? 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤.

read on AO3

Peter examined his robotics homework helplessly. He stared at the fluorescent screen of his busted up laptop until his eyes felt like they were going to explode.

He liked to think he was intelligent. He prided himself on it. While he was good at robotics, biology and chemistry were his true strengths.

He kept desperately turning the problem around in his head in a valiant, though fruitless, effort to come to any solution. He huffed.

Pulling out his cracked phone, Peter took a hasty picture of the problem and sent it to Ned. He typed in Ned’s number from memory, his old phone having been obliterated in a fight gone awry with a man cosplaying as a rhino - for whatever reason. 

Peter, tired out of his wits and ready to just go to bed already, didn’t bother checking if the number he sent it to was actually Ned’s. He sent the photo. It was accompanied by several text messages. 

peter: do u have any idea how to solve this? peter: sry for bothering u peter: im at a total loss lmao help me pls

Tony’s phone dinged. He didn’t even look up from the project he was working on.

Then the phone dinged rapidly two more times. Tony groaned. He glared at the phone like it had any say in the matter.

The messages Tony had received were from an unknown number. He was gearing up to block the rando before looking at what the messages actually said.

There was a photo of what was clearly homework. It wasn’t particularly complex, but Tony could see how it could trip someone up. Especially when it was the dead of night. And if the area code of the number was anything to go by, whoever this mystery number was, it was also going on three in the morning for them as well.

Tony responded by solving the problem. He sent a photo.

Tony: You’re welcome. No need to thank me. Actually, do thank me.

-

Peter perked up at the response. It wasn’t like Ned to be up so late. In fact, Ned had gotten on his case several times about his “deranged” sleeping habits.

Peter looked at his phone and cheered. He responded. 

peter: thank you thank you thank you !!!! peter: ned u r a life saver u r back in my will

He finished up his homework when he got another message. He read it and his face went hot while his body went cold.

Unknown Number: Not Ned. No need to put me in your will, unless you have something really cool besides highschool homework.

Peter typed.

peter: if u arent ned then who r u mystery man????

Unknown Number: Not important.

peter: its very important!!!!!! peter: how did u know the answer hm?????

Unknown Number: No offense, kid, but that problem was rudimentary. 

peter: oooo rudimentary peter: ill rudimentary ur face bro peter: cut me some slack its like 3 am

Unknown Number: Then go to bed.

peter: ur not my dad smhhhhh

Unknown Number: I don’t need to be your dad to know it’s past your bedtime. Go to bed.

peter: lmao no

Unknown Number: Is this how you always treat people who do your homework for you?

peter: u solved one ( 1) problem peter: dont get cocky

Unknown Number: Arrogance is the one thing I’m good at.

peter: that and robotics apparently peter: u must be old peter: no one msgs like that lmao peter: ur texting not writing a novel

Unknown Number: I am old.

peter: how old

Unknown Number: Old.

peter: ha ha peter: im not actually laughing that was sarcastic

Unknown Number: I gathered that.

peter: tell me ur name at least peter: pls peter: so i can thank u 

Peter stared at his phone hard. The light of it illuminating him and the pitch blackness that surrounded him.

He watched as the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. They stopped before a message popped up.

Unknown Number: Tell me yours first. 

This guy, Peter thought. For some reason, probably his inane curiosity, Peter wanted to know more about this stranger. So, he complied. Nothing bad could come from sharing just his first name, right? There are like a million Peters in the world.

peter: peter peter: now u

Unknown Number: You can call me Tony.

peter: thank u tony

tony: You’re welcome. 

The conversation seemed to have come to a close. Peter set his phone down, resolute on getting at least three hours of sleep. Then, another message popped up.

tony: Feel free to contact me with any more robotics problems you come across.

-

“Ned,” Peter said, successfully capturing his friend’s attention despite the onslaught of dodgeballs being pummeled at them.

“What?” Ned gave his friend a bright look, “Is this about spider activities?”

Peter said, “No. And I thought we made a rule about not talking about the spider here.”

“I was being discreet,” Ned said.

Peter shook his head, “Whatever. That is so not the point. Anyways, last night I was having some serious problems with Mr. Volpenhein’s homework and I texted you because I needed help, but I didn’t text you. I accidentally texted some random guy and he solved the problem. Then he tried to tell me to go to bed.”

“Did he get the answer right?” Ned asked.

Peter said, “I think so.”

“No offense, Peter, but that isn’t that exciting.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders.

Ned laughed, “Even some strange guy was trying to put you to bed.”

“Whatever,” Peter said with a smile.

Peter, adrenaline spiking in a matter of seconds, jumped in front of Ned. In the process, he caught the ball that had been hurled at his friend. He gave a harsh glare to the perpetrator in question who was, as always, Flash.

Flash’s eyes were wide, but he dug his heels into the ground. “You just got lucky, Penis! Next time I won’t miss,” He called out.

Peter rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks, man,” Ned said. 

Peter sighed, “No worries. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

Ned nodded.

-

They had lunch right after gym. In Peter’s opinion, besides in the morning, this was the worst time to have gym. But that was just the typical Parker Luck, as him and May have dubbed it.

“Tell me more about your robotic savior,” Ned said as they sat in their usual spots by the window.

Peter gave him a look, “I thought you said it wasn’t exciting.”

“It’s not.”

Peter pushed Ned lightly, Ned barely even moved. They both shared a small laugh.

“But,” Ned said, “but… I want to know who this guy is. I don’t want you replacing me as your Guy-In-The-Chair.”

Peter laughed, “No one could replace you. Except for maybe MJ. But she’d never want to replace you, so that’s sorted.”

Ned said, “Do you think this mystery guy is a villain?”

“No,” Peter said, “usually bad guys kick me around a bunch. So far, none of them have offered to help me with my homework.”

Ned made a contemplative noise, “You never know.”

“I think I have a pretty good guess, though,” Peter said. 

“But you still never know.”

“Since when did you have trust issues?” Peter asked with a smile. He said, “Being weirdly detached and mistrusting is MJ’s thing.”

Ned said, “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want what happened with Dr. O-”

“Ned.”

Ned gave Peter a soft look, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Peter said, attempting to, and failing at, sounding like it was fine. It was very much not fine. But that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.

He said, “This guy’s name is Tony, by the way.”

“Whoa.” Ned asked, “Like Stark?”

Peter shook his head, “Out of the millions of people I could’ve accidentally texted, the odds of me texting Tony Stark is extremely low. Even if I did text him, he probably wouldn’t have answered.”

“But…” Ned said with a wry smile, “You never know.”

“Ned.”

Ned smiled, “Yeah?”

“Shut up,” Peter said as they both busted out into laughter.

-

Tony walked through a long sanitized hallway. Pepper was in front of him, luring him to his despise. Or, otherwise known as, a meeting with a bunch of stuffy halfwits.

The boardroom was just as sickeningly perfect as the hallway had been. Several men, who looked like clones of each other, sat around a table. Their eyes shot toward Tony the moment he entered the room.

Truly the only way Tony had been able to tell the difference between these men was at what stage of balding they were at. Michael Krasinski had a full head of hair while Byron Moss had none. Everyone else fell at different spots in the middle to Tony.

He sighed, “If I’m honest, which I’m rarely not nowadays, I don’t understand the purpose of this meeting.”

“What Tony means to say is,” Pepper started, swooping in to save his ass as she often did, “Stark Industries has been very successful lately. This meeting is unexpected.”

One of the members, whose hair was barely hanging on, piped up, “There have been a few investments that concerned us.”

“Pep,” Tony whispered, “if they bring up the student internships again I will freak out.”

The student internship situation had been controversial when Tony first did it. Apparently, no one cares about nurturing bright young minds. It had been a “waste of money” to encourage students to enter the STEM workfield.

Tony had assured them he would take care of it. Then he didn’t change shit. So they were probably pissed about that.

“We are eager to hear your concerns and make improvements where necessary,” Pepper said to the group of scrutinizing eyes. 

Tony immediately zoned out. He discreetly pulled out his phone and sent a message to Rhodey.

Tony: When are you going to get back, Platypus? I miss you.

A response came immediately.

Peter: i didnt know we were using nicknames now Peter: what do i call u

Tony restrained saying an expletive. He had texted the highschooler from last night.

Tony: I didn’t mean to text you. That should be obvious. And you do not get to call me a nickname. We’re not there yet.

Peter: oooo how the turn tables turn Peter: who is this platypus Peter: are they like perry?

Tony: Who’s Perry?

Peter: ur joking Peter: theres no way you actually dont know who perry the platypus is

Tony: I don’t.

A picture came through of a blue animal that could be perceived as a platypus if looked at through squinted eyes.

I have never seen that creature before in my life, Tony sent with a smile.

Peter: omg u have to watch phineas and ferb

Tony: I don’t have to do anything, actually.

Peter: wow ur sooooo cool tony Peter: only losers havent seen phineas and ferb

Tony: It’s a cartoon.

Peter: so???

Tony: So, you’re calling me a loser for not watching a children’s show?

Peter: ye

Tony: You know what, kid. I respect that.

Then, Tony considered for a moment.

Tony: Wait. Tony: Shouldn’t you be in school?

Peter: i am

Tony: Why are you texting me?

Peter: cos im bored lol Peter: i already know all the material so it doesnt matter

Tony: You didn’t seem to know all the material last night. If I recall, you were having problems with a pretty basic circuit.

Peter: it was THREE IN THE MORNING

Tony: Don’t yell at me.

Peter: wat r u going to do?? Peter: ground me?? Peter: love to see u try mister

Tony: Keep it up and I will.

Peter: ooo im sooo scared

Tony: Pay attention to your teacher.

Peter: i just told u i already know this stuff Peter: its chem and im hella good at that

Tony: Where do you go to school? 

Tony only realized how creepy of a question that was after he sent it.

Peter: none of your business high

Tony: My bad. Overstepped a boundary there.

Peter: apology accepted

Tony: I wasn’t apologizing.

Peter: bruh Peter: then what were u doing???

Tony: Taking accountability.

Peter: im pretty sure thats the textbook definition of apologizing

Tony let out a soft laugh and everyone in the meeting looked at him. 

“Is there anything you’d like to add?” asked some guy who was rapidly approaching the bald end of the spectrum.

Tony smiled, “Nope.”

“Mr. Stark is only amused because these reports show that the student internship program has been a wild success,” Pepper said with the swiftness of someone who was used to Tony’s antics.

Another board member interjected, “Just because something’s a success doesn’t mean we should continue it.”

“Are you being serious?” Tony asked before Pepper could form a prim response.

Pepper sighed, “There is no reason to discontinue the program. Until someone in this room provides clear statistical proof that the student internship program is not worth continuing then it will continue running. Along with every other civil program Stark Industries is running.”

“Tell em, Pep,” Tony said.

Pepper gave him a look with her icy eyes. Tony smiled in turn. 

Leaving the board meeting was an instant breath of fresh air. Even if Pepper instantly got on his case. To be fair, he deserved it.

“You weren’t even paying attention,” Pepper said.

Tony tilted his head, “I am taking that accusation very heavily, Potts. You’ll be in contact with my lawyer.”

“I’d have to be the one to call them,” Pepper said.

Tony smiled at her apologetically.

Pepper asked, “Who were you texting?”

“I wasn’t texting.”

Pepper gave him a blank look, “I’m not blind.”

“You know,” Tony admitted, “I’m not really sure. Some kid texted the wrong number to ask for help with homework. It was a circuit problem, the kind they give you in highschool. So I helped out. I accidentally texted them just now because I was trying to text Rhodey.”

Pepper looked at him hard. It was the same exasperated calculating stare Tony had seen a million times over.

“Jesus,” She said after a moment, “you’re like a walking PR nightmare.”

Tony shrugged his shoulders in defeat. She had a pretty good point. But he wasn’t too concerned. Afterall, the kid didn’t know who he was, and Tony didn’t know who the kid was. 

Their most recent conversation would probably be their last conversation.

-

“Dude,” Peter squeezed through the after school hallway congestion.

Ned stood at his locker and gave Peter a toothy smile, “Hi.”

“Guess what just happened,” Peter said.

Ned said, “What?”

“Dude, guess!” Peter shook Ned’s shoulder.

Ned rolled his eyes but complied with a smile, “The roof caved in on Mrs. Little and her class is canceled for the rest of the year?”

“Not even close, dude. And don’t say stuff like that. I like Mrs. Little.”

Ned laughed and closed his locker. They walked down the steadily emptying hall together.

“What happened, then?” Ned asked, “Is it something to do with spider related activities?”

Peter sighed as he looked to the ceiling for dramatic effect, “No! Tony texted me.”

“Whoa,” Ned halted in his tracks, “why?”

Peter said, “He was trying to text someone he calls ‘Platypus.’ Then he threatened to ground me for texting while in class. But I think he was mostly joking. Maybe. It’s hard to tell through text. And he texts like an old man.”

“He probably is an old man.” Ned said, “He probably lied about trying to text someone else just to talk to you. You’re probably the first person he’s talked to in fifty years.”

“Ned, that is so not nice,” Peter said.

Ned said, “I’m just throwing theories out there.”

“Well, settle it down, MatPat, okay? I think it’s probably some old guy who - I don’t know  - worked in mechanical engineering or something. He’s probably some regular old dude,” Peter said.

Ned said, “Like I said, it’s just a theory-”

“Don’t,” Peter warned.

“-a game theory!”

“I don’t even know why I’m friends with you,” Peter smiled.

Ned sang, “It’s because you love me.”

“True,” Peter said.

They went their separate ways.

Peter usually walked home. When he was feeling spicy, he’d swing back to his apartment. But, especially as Spider-Man became more well known, Peter didn’t want to do something that risked giving his identity away.

He texted Tony.

peter: my friend thinks ur a sad old man texting me for company

A response, immediately.

tony: Your friend isn’t entirely wrong.

peter: thats concerning peter: do u have irl friends???

tony: Yes.

peter: thank god peter: i was about to be real sad

tony: Don’t worry about me, kid.

peter: i cant help it peter: u helped me wit my hw peter: now i owe u my life

tony: Any time, kid.

peter: whats with u calling me kid peter: how would u like it if i kept calling u old man

tony: I’ve been called worse.

peter: like what???? peter: i’ll fight them for u, old man

tony: Don’t. I deserved it most of the time.

peter: why?

tony: I wasn’t a good person when I was younger. I’m still fixing the mess I made in my early twenties.

peter: ppl r not their worst mistakes peter: u r so much more than what u have done wrong

tony: That’s surprisingly profound coming from someone who can’t be bothered to type out ‘you’.

peter: thank you

tony: Do you just like being difficult?

peter: yes peter: its part of my charm

-

The kid, Peter, wasn’t wrong. His aptitude for sarcasm and talking back was actually growing on Tony.  

There was something about the anonymity that made it easy for Tony to spill the feelings he kept from some of his closest confidants. Tony knew it was obvious, though. Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy - hell, maybe even a portion of the Avengers - knew that guilt ate away at him everyday. But, he never said it. Except for the times where he wanted to make a point. 

Tony found his thoughts coming back to Peter at hand. Then he stopped himself. There was no way that wherever this thing was going that it was going to be good.

But he found himself intrigued. And an intrigued Tony Stark might be the most dangerous Tony Stark there is.

The day passed by, but Tony’s thoughts were consistently drawn back toward Peter.

He ignored the gnawing for Peter’s sake. The last thing some random highschool kid needed was to be dragged into Tony’s neverending drama. But…

Tony: How was school?

A reply in an instant.

Peter: wow Peter: dad moment Peter: it was alright Peter: like i said the work is easy since i already know most of it Peter: just boring

Tony: I get what you mean. I skipped highschool and went straight to college.

Peter: no way Peter: ur fucking with me

Tony: Nope. It was horrible for my mental health.

Peter: how smart r u Peter: jesus Peter: i wouldnt survive one day in a college class

Tony: They’re not that hard. Surprisingly enough. Tony: It was just lonely being a child surrounded by adults.

Peter: sry to hear that Peter: did u want to go to college early?

Tony: No. But I didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.

Peter: thats awful Peter: u shouldnt have been forced into it 

Tony: Don’t worry about it, kid. Seriously. Tony: I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It’s not like you’re my therapist.

Peter: do u have a therapist???

Tony: Yeah, but I don’t really go.

Peter: why

Tony: Too busy.

Peter: mental health is important Peter: go to ur therapy or i wont go to robotics class

Tony: You drive a tough bargain.

Peter: go to therapy or i will go feral

Tony: Now that’s a threat. Fine, kid, you win.

Peter: thank u

It was later that night, Tony found himself dangerously enamored. Though, Peter was an anonymous face behind a phone screen, Tony had really found himself coming to like that kid. It scared him to death, liking people. The people he liked tended to meet untimely ends. Tony didn’t do well with liking people.

His love bordered on obsession. More than most. Pepper, Rhodey, even Happy had all been at his lovebombing mercy before and none of them had been particularly fond of it. Tony knew if he were to do anything for this kid, Peter, then there would be no going back from it. That it would completely undo this weirdly beautiful thing they had going on.

Call Tony selfish, it wouldn’t be the first time, but he liked having someone to talk to who didn’t know him. Who didn’t put enormous expectations on him all the time. Someone like Peter, who seemed young and free, started to make Tony’s wings spread a little as well.

Can’t stop thinking about you, Tony sent, cringing when he realized how much of a creep that made him sound.

Peter: ur so sweet Peter: i bet u say that to everyone who accidentally texts u

Tony: Nope, just you.

Peter: what an honor

Tony’s curiosity got the better of him. Peter, it seemed, was a highschool student. Their conversations have illuminated Tony to the fact that, yeah, Peter is actually a genius. Tony doesn’t know much more than that. A friend named Ned, but no parents, and somewhat disadvantaged.

Tony could work with that. He commanded Friday to trace a phone he felt a familiar feeling. The kind of chilling stomach ache that warned him he was making an irreversible mistake.

“Found him, Boss,” Friday announced, multiple pictures appearing before Tony in an instant.

The blue light blinded him for a moment. He approached it. A small apartment in Queens. Tony smiled.

Friday said, “There’s something else of note.”

“Yeah, babygirl?”

“The local vigilante known as Spider-Man,” a few videos and pictures appear, “has been seen coming and going from this location. There is reason to suspect that Peter Parker may be Spider-Man.”

Tony stepped back. He examined all the data for a fault, but nope. It seemed concrete. The kid who texted him by accident, a one-in-a-million chance, just so happened to also be the web-slinging vigilante known as Spider-Man. 

Things just got much more interesting.

-

Peter was cleaning some dishes while May took a nap on the couch. His mind wandered back to the night’s text he received from Tony. Was Tony hitting on him? It seemed silly, but it wasn’t entirely implausible. Was it?

He told Ned about it and Ned gave him a side-eye while MJ snickered. It doesn’t matter what they think, Peter thought, okay, it kind of does. But they don’t understand what it’s like juggling being a good nephew, a good student, and a good Spider-Man. There’s a lot of responsibility Peter has been shouldering and this Tony guy feels like a breath of fresh air. He doesn’t know who Peter is, nephew, student, or Spider-Man. It’s nice talking to someone who doesn’t have any expectations for him.

There was a sharp knock on the door.

Peter turned toward it as May was roused from her sleep. She started to get up.

“I’ve got it, May.”

Her hair was a mess and her eyes narrowed in the freshly awake kind of way. She mumbled something as she sat up despite Peter’s protests.

Peter sighed and he opened the door. He looked up and opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips-

Oh, shit.

[goldencorecrunches]

Wei Ying doesn’t share the lease with Lan Zhan—his sister has very strong opinions on lease-signing before marriage, which Wen Ning has learned come from some unfortunate events in her past, and not from a moral prudishness—but he lives there in all practical terms. When Wen Ning coaxes Wei Ying out of the library at half-past two in the morning, it’s towards Lan Zhan’s apartment that he takes him. It’s a habit, walking Wei Ying home. Wei Ying can hold his own, but even if he weren’t wearing his Thinking Skirt (an ankle-length black denim monstrosity that he claims makes him “think better,” and refuses all attempts to replace) Wen Ning would still go with him. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone walking home alone, in the dark, especially not someone he cares about. Wei Ying stopped arguing with him about it years ago. “Wen Niiiing,” Wei Ying says, slumping theatrically under his backpack. “I’m dead. Linear II has killed me. You have to carry me or I’ll rot here.” “Campus police would probably collect you,” Wen Ning points out, as he bends down so Wei Ying can hop up onto his back. Wei Ying’s arms tighten uncomfortably around Wen Ning’s neck for a moment; Wen Ning hefts under his thighs, hiking up the skirt so Wei Ying can wrap his legs around Wen Ning’s waist. It’s a perfectly platonic best-friend thing to do if Wen Ning doesn’t think about it. “Or th-th, lawnmower people.”

“You’re evil,” Wei Ying says without heat. He didn’t mean his whining about his class, either; Wen Ning was there through Wei Ying deciding to go back to school, and held his hand when he hit submit on his applications. He’s also seen how much Wei Ying thrives, in the whirlwind of work and essays and complex mathematical theories that he’s plunged back into. It’s nice to see him so enthusiastic about something, again; really enthusiastic, not pretending because he doesn’t want people to be upset. Wen Ning has been his friend for over a decade, now, and the years after Wei Ying dropped out were some of his worst. There’s a lady out walking her dog. Wen Ning smiles at the pug’s stubby legs as they pass. The sidewalk underfoot is damp from the rain, glittering under the street lamps; it’s a quiet, comfortable kind of night, even with—especially with—Wei Ying mumbling increasingly incoherently against Wen Ning’s neck, the closer he gets to nodding off. Wen Ning has been over enough times that he knows the code to the building, but he has to jostle Wei Ying to wake him up when he gets to Lan Zhan’s door. “Key,” he says, when Wei Ying grumbles at him. It comes out fond; he can’t help it. “’S in pocket.” “I’d have to put you down.” With considerably more grumbling, Wei Ying wiggles around to dig the keys out of his jacket. It used to be terrifying how he trusted Wen Ning not to drop him. Now Wen Ning brings it up to tease him when his brother visits. The keys are warm from Wei Ying’s pocket, his hand. Wen Ning slides the right one into the lock and opens the door carefully, conscious of the creaky hinge; Wei Ying keeps saying he’s going to fix it.   The lights are still on inside, yellow and bright after the nighttime darkness. Lan Zhan’s head pops up over the back of the couch, followed by the graceful unfolding of his body. It’s clear he stayed up to wait for Wei Ying, but it looks like he’d also been dozing; his hair is a mess and he looks very tired. Wen Ning is used to ignoring the clench of his heart. He lifts a hand from Wei Ying’s ankle to wave. “I brought home the scholar,” he says, which is obvious. Lan Zhan nods at him and comes to help pry Wei Ying off Wen Ning’s back; Wei Ying is refusing to let go. Eventually the two of them manage to unwrap him and get him onto his own two feet. Immediately Wei Ying slumps against Lan Zhan’s flannel-pajama shoulder, muffling a yawn. Lan Zhan gazes at him with such sleepy adoration that Wen Ning has to smile, seeing it. “I’ve got work tomorrow. Um, today,” he says, when Lan Zhan looks at him; his eyes carry lingering softness from looking at Wei Ying, and Wen Ning tries not to blush. “Sorry, I d-d, can’t stay.” His regret is real. Even though he only drinks tea, Lan Zhan’s coffeemaker is much fancier than the secondhand one in the apartment Wen Ning shares with A-Jie. Wen Ning and Wei Ying can go through three pots easy, in the morning. Lan Zhan blinks at him, swaying a little (it is far past his bedtime), and wraps an arm around Wei Ying’s waist with an instinct Wei Ying doesn’t need to keep him close. They have a way of melting into each other that makes Wen Ning’s chest go all liquid, inside, but in a good way. Like soup. Maybe he should go to sleep.

“Goodnight,” Wen Ning says, at the door. Remembering at the last minute, he hands Wei Ying’s keys to Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan takes them, maneuvering Wei Ying so he doesn’t knock into the wall, kisses Wen Ning on the mouth once gently, and turns to half-carry Wei Ying down the hall to bed.

Wen Ning stares at the closed door for a full minute. The inside of his skull keeps making a sound like a rebooting computer.

What.

Nie Huaisang 💃💃💃

 lan zhan just kissed me????????????

                                                like w tongue???

                                                omg finally

no just??? goodnight???

I dropped wei ying off and he just

???????????????????????

                                                hell ya 3some gettit

 im really freaking out

                                                oh shit

                                                sry

                                                ill b over in 30 w vodka

 thank you <3

  Wen Ning wakes up and wishes he hadn’t.

He’s curled up in the faux-leather armchair he and A-Jie dragged from the side of the road when they moved in, the one that’s just big enough to let him manipulate his spine into the worst position ever. Drunk him is a trick ass bitch who tends to forget about joint pain. Across the room, Nie Huaisang is cuddling the leg of the coffee table. They probably won’t even have trouble touching their toes, today, but they’re going to complain about it as if they aren’t as a dancer in better shape than the rest of them combined. He’s also wearing one of Huaisang’s bras, the lace pink one they always foist upon Wen Ning when they want “help hoe-ing it up tonight, let’s GO.” Since neither of them ventured beyond Wen Ning’s living room, he’s not sure what sequence of events led to said bra-wearing. The clasp is digging into Wen Ning’s skin. At least it fits better than it used to. Wen Ning’s boobs were, unfortunately, huge. His phone is at four percent. Wen Ning fumbles to plug it in—he got the charger plugged into the wall, before he passed out, but he has a vague recollection of deciding the cord was too short and taking his phone to chair with him untethered—and winces as he taps the scratched screen. He’s got messages. Did he text people last night? He really, really hopes not.

Lan Zhan’s Brother 🎼

                      Hi, I was wondering if you were free this                                           afternoon? 

                      Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry!                       I got an interesting call from Wangji?

  Oh shit. Oh, fuck.

Wen Ning groans and buries his face in the cool oblivion of scuffed pleather.

[17-imagines]

[request] [scenario] forever

(thank u for requesting !! im sry this is shorter than usual bc it’s more therapeutic fluff than plot hehe) 

Title: forever

Member: minghao

Genre: fluff fluff fluff // domestic!au 

Word Count: 736

You groan, leaning your head against your apartment door. The number pad is glowing red, indicating that the wrong code had been inputted. You’re reaching for your phone somewhere in your backpack when the door swings open, and you fall into a pair of strong, sturdy arms.

“Woah, easy,” Minghao chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Long day?” You nod, burrowing your head into his chest. He guides you into your warm, welcoming apartment step by step, backwards.

The door shuts on its own with the absence of Minghao holding it open, and it beeps to indicate that the lock’s resecured.

He pushes the bedroom door open and you flop onto the bed, causing his laptop to rock back and forth, the mixtape he’s working on playing quietly.

“Minghaooooo,” you whine, glancing over to your boyfriend, who’s occupied with digging through your endless drawers of clothing, “Come here.”

He chuckles quietly, a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt of his own in hand. He tosses them onto your stomach, the bed sinking further as he takes a seat beside your sprawled out figure.

“Baobei, you have to change.” He rubs your back soothingly, and you groan, unwilling. He pulls you up by the arm, smiling brightly despite the scowl on your face. “Fine, just sit there, okay?”

He reaches for your shirt, tugging at the sides and lifting the cloth up and over your head, leaving you in your bra. He shyly looks away, mumbling, “You got that… Right?”

“Minghao, you’re not a high schooler anymore. You can look,” you tease, unclasping your bra. He hands you his t-shirt blindly, eyes still averted. You pull the loose-fitting shirt on, tossing your bra and shirt onto the small pile of clothing on the floor, adding your jeans to the pile shortly after.

“Yeah, but… Now’s not the time for that,” he grumbles, and you reach over with a gentle hand to turn his head towards you, fully-clothed. He pouts, a subtle, but noticeable blush dusting his cheeks, and leans in to peck you on the lips. “How was your day?”

You fall against his chest, arms wrapping around you once more. “Tiring.” He kisses your cheek, a husky laugh tickling your ear.

“I figured. Jun told me you walked into the mirror at the studio today.”

“In my defense, I could’ve sworn the door was there,” you grumble, intertwining your fingers with his. “How was your day?” 

“It was good,” he smiles, arms around you pulling you closer, “Great, now that you’re back.”

“Can we get under the covers? I’m too tired to be alive,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. He hums in agreement, releasing you to assist you in pulling back the covers. You slip beneath the sheets and settle down against your pillow, disappointment washing over you when Minghao returns to his idle laptop.

“Minghao,” you call, and he turns to face you, hands typing in his password.

“Hm?”

“I said ‘we’,” you pout, “As in, you too. You deserve a break too, you’ve been working all day.”

“Why can Jihoon-hyung compose all night?” Minghao jokingly complains, saving his file, “You don’t nag him about it.”

You roll your eyes, lightly kicking Minghao from beneath the covers, “That’s because Jihoonie isn’t my boyfriend,” you remark, “And, because Jihoon sucks at cuddling.”

He raises an eyebrow, placing his laptop on the nightstand. “You’ve cuddled with Jihoon-hyung?” You shrug, prompting his lower lip to form a pout, arms crossed in jealousy. “When?”

“That morning when you made me wake him up in the studio? He pulled me onto the couch with him and you guys didn’t even notice until practice was over.”

Minghao laughs sheepishly, grinning. “Right… It’s your fault for being so soft and snuggable. If you were taller and muscular, Jihoon-hyung probably would’ve woken up.”

“Yeah, to beat me to death,” you inquire, shifting as Minghao slid under the covers, his cold feet meeting yours. “Hey!”

He only laughs, pulling you by the waist onto his side, your head resting in the crook of his arm and chest. You breathe in the scent of freshly washed hair and laundry detergent, and sigh in content.

“I want to stay in your arms forever, Minghao.”

He chuckles, chest vibrating against your cheek, and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry,” he says, tightening his grip around you, “I’ll be here, forever.”

[markyishanthonymartinez]

4/7/17

hello hello hello.

im a bad person. like actually a bad person. i did something legitimately bad that i dont really want to talk about but i have to be honest with this blog and like idk it’s on my mind so i gotta. okay how do i say this. fuck okay i’ll just do it.

i missed class today. for the first time all semester. i’m a bad person. i was just so tired after this week and our story last night. my alarm woke me up, and i went pee, and got back in bed, and the next time i opened by eyes it was 9:47. aka 47 minutes after class started. i feel bad. i always feel bad when i miss class. poles is funny. he took a selfie with all his friends who showed up to class. aka himself and 3 stick figures drawn on snapchat. 

at least i got to eat breakfast and then go to the ecc and study for our quiz. also, bags did the exact same thing i did and thus was not able to wake me up and stuff.

studying was chill, i listened to new music. i’m mad kendrick didn't drop his album today, actually mad. i was looking forward to it. the new harry styles track was actually enjoyable and I'm surprised. the new chainsmokers was... fuck them. just not listenable like i can't I'm sorry. i had never listened to halsey before, but its exactly what i thought it was, overproduced hipster girl pop trash. not that overproduced hipster girl pop is inherently bad, but she’s bad. other new tracks were whatevs. wait wait i almost forgot, the new french montana track was horrendous. like what even is that fam. idgi.

had a quiz in systems. it wasn't horrendous, but still pretty bad and that made me a sad mark. 

i got froyo with poles after and then he came over and hung out with bags and kyle and i. we made kyle wait outside for like 15 minutes and pretended we weren't home lmao. 

oh yeah kyle’s here btw. his spring break trip got cancelled and he figured why the heck not.

but yeah then kyle left to go day-drinking with kassandra and bags went to work and poles and i literally just hung out in my room doing pretty much nothing.

it made me happy cause like poles and i literally were not doing anything but we still had super fun times and that’s so qt and he’s my bestest bff. 

he left to go on a tinder date. she didn't come. fuck that b. who would stand up mr alex s poles. like wtf. that hanna bitch better watch her back. 

played games with buds.

then kyle came home drunk and i kinda just turned netflix on and left him and kassandra downstairs. like i guess that kinda makes me a bad host but, idk i was just trynna play games with buddies and they just ran up on me all drunk and high or something idrk.

but yeah

time for deep mark.

okay i kid you not, but i googled questioning general beliefs and the first link was an lds.org video lmao.

but really uh time for thoughts and mark ideas.

okay so like I'm not some all-knowing jerk that is a super genius but i’ve always considered myself to have really strong reasoning skills and i guess that leads me to fake deep mark.

i say fake deep cause idk I'm not a psychology major fam, buzz off.

okay so i’ve had this conversation extensively with myself and my parents and friends and actually quite a few people, but okay.

wait on second thought this one isn't really some psychological deep thing. but kinda will turn into it maybe, if this plays out how my head thinks it will. 

okay so, we as a developed society will more than likely face a frightening revolution within our lifetimes. not like uprising type of revolution but a revolution in the way our entire economic system and the way people function. okay so within my lifetime, i am near certain that self-driving vehicles and the technology behind them will be perfected and mass-produced. what does that do? it gets rid of a huge part of our economy. not in a bad way for economic reasons, but in a bad way for people who need jobs and a method to contribute to society and a reason to exist on this planet. perfected self driving cars won't crash (once perfected), self driving cars will move efficiently and won't be late and won't brake too hard and won't cause damage to themselves and so on and so forth. truck drivers, won't need em. body shops for cars, nah fam. the huge chunk of the medical field that dedicates time and money to car accidents, meh. even car manufacturing and sales will go down cause like why would people need new cars. if you can just nap in your car and tell it to drive to LA, plane travel will take a hit. road work will take a knock, when there’s not people driving poorly on the roads. hoping by this time gasoline powered cars are gone, but if not, self driven technology will be a lot better at accelerating and braking to use it’s energy source as efficiently as possible. the fields go on and on and on and in most of the senses it’s a good thing. like it would be great to not waste money on these things, but people lose jobs, but not like jobs because we have a recession, but if anything jobs would be lost because we’d be doing too well. now i named one field, but consider the continuation of “robots” and computers and machines taking human labor jobs. but not just that, I’ll be a lil harder to replace, but in a perfect world computers take my job too eventually. a computer with infinite options and an understanding of which options are preferred will always be quicker, more efficient, and probably even better at engineering than i may ever be. it’s just a matter of developing a very complicated code. 

i’ve talked a lot but i’m just now getting to my actual thing. what do people do when they have nothing to do? like it’s easy for me to sit here and say idk fam watch netflix and relax, but no really. if even 20% of all currently employed people had their jobs taken by a computer tomorrow, what do they do? like they didn't lost their job because of economic issues or they fucked up, no like their method of bringing bread home is no longer available. what do people do? looking past the economics of it, let’s say the government is super aware and like wow people you’ll just get paid to exist cause we dont really need you as laborers. what do people do? have we forced people into just being laborers? i feel like there’s so many people who are nothing more than their 9-5. they go to work. they have small talk and perform a simple task over and over. they come home. they eat dinner. they stare at a screen for 4 hours, they go to bed. they do it again. i dont think anyone is inherently a mindless zombie like this, but i think it’s happened. if you just told everyone they didn't have to work tomorrow or the day after that or after that, people would have no idea what to do with their lives.

i dont think this, but i should mention it, what if some people really are just zombies? what if some people really don’t think anything. what if some people dont have any real deep down interests. or they can, but they dont care enough to. what i become that. 

i dont ever want to be that. i want to be me. i never want to go through the motions.

i’m better at closing this conversation off in person but i am scared to see what happened when we reach a society where laborers aren't needed. (please forgive me, i dont mean this sourly) where, the less intellectual are put in a place where they have to sit around and feel purposeless to society? of course i’m looking at this in a dystopian sense, i assume that similarly to the renaissance, art and knowledge will be further pursued when we are chilling financially, but idk it’s interesting to think about things like that. also the general public will grow more and more knowledgable along with this and maybe we’d have a super crazy smart culture. idk fam, this wasn't actually that deep but just something i thought of and not really on the theme of questioning things. that will come mañana and beyond that i’m still working on it. sry

-mark