#but now he'd got it down to a science

[lunaviathan]

You ever think about the idea that Sonic, Shadow and Silver all might have impressively long quills for hedgehog mobians? Cus I do. Cus they all have reasons to. Sonic’s constantly tearing through solid metal and wires, the more buzzsaw like he can make himself the better and the more layers between him and sparking machinery while spindashing also all the better. Shadow’s a living weapon and part alien and he has the same reasons as Sonic to maintain them, also, his quills must be So Weird to other hedgehogs. Why are they so dark? I’ve never seen that stripe pattern in my life. How are they going up so much?? And so on. Silver. Silver dude guy. Post/mid-apocalypse extraordinaire (had to look up that word. why the hell is it spelled like that) Between his insane quills and the telekinesis, touching him if he doesn’t want you to is guaranteed pain. Someone get him some industrial scissors his quills don’t need to be that long anymore.

Imagine being a normal little hedgehog mobian. You’ve been living your life, having your quills carefully trimmed and blunted for your convenience and others’ safety, trying to find a nice balance between lengths so it looks nice without ruining the couch. the couch probably gets ruined anyway but it takes longer than if you were doing nothing. You kinda wish you could grow them out more cus other mobians with just fur do some pretty cool stuff. And one day your town gets overrun by robots by this human dude and you get saved by this blue mobian who you haven’t been able to get a good look at because he’s going So Fast and when he finally slows down you’re like. oh. neat I’ve been saved by a superspeed porcupine-wait no. why’s he look like. hedge hog??? Quills? Why????????? Are they so long what.

This guy has done the equivalent of growing up in a world of sewing needle hair and decided to grow them out to goddamn knife points. How has he not stabbed himself. what does his monthly spending on couches look like? And then two other guys show up. they also get mistaken for porcupines. they are also hedgehogs. What.

They all look cool as hell. plotting to ask them about their quill care routine is in your future. Maybe you’ll ask the pink one that just showed up. She seems like the most normal (wrong.) She might know how they do that.

[slippery-minghus]

gods, why didn't i get a college degree in anything useful?

[dandyshucks]

I have difficulties with eye contact (yay autism) and while I can briefly meet people's eyes in conversations when it's needed to be polite, I much prefer to look around the room or at whatever I find myself fiddling with.

and I was just thinking about how flustered it'd make Guz when I'm able to meet his eyes every now and then because he'd fully see all the love and appreciation I hold for him ,,, and it'd be almost overwhelming for him bc he realizes just how much I really truly care about him, how much I feel for him, especially when he doesn't feel deserving of a softer kind of love.... and to meet his eyes once in a while and then watch his face flush as he flusters, well,, that'd be such a delight :3

[undreaming-fanfiction]

The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.

What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.

It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.

That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.

Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."

The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.

They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?

And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"

They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.

They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.

It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.

Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.

To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.

Suddenly, a car horn.

Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"

Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"

There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"

Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"

And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".

Eddie wanted to punch him.

But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.

Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"

A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.

"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"

They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.

The man completely ignored them.

"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."

All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".

The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."

Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."

Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.

"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"

Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."

And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"

Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.

Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.

But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:

"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."

Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.

"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."

And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"

Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."

Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:

After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.

The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.

Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.

And finally...

The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".

[mazamba]

Sponsored By

Ironically, the most eventful day in the careers of Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had nothing to do with ghosts. The two had just returned from the supermarket and were carrying in the groceries, when the shadow in the corner began to speak.

"We need to talk."

"GHOST!"

The couple were on their back before they could draw their weapons.

"You are the foremost experts in the field of ecto-biology," said Batman as if he hadn't just brought down a three hundred pound man and a ninth-degree black-belt before either of them could realize he'd moved, "I have questions regarding your sponsor."

"Sweetie, is the Batman in our living room?" asked Jack.

"I do believe he is," replied Maddie as she stood up and patted the dust off her clothes, "you know, you could have called for an appointment. We'd have made time."

"In the 80's, the two of you had your doctorate studies rescinded due to your studies in what you called "ecto-science"," he stated, ignoring their indignation, "yet you now live in an upper-middle class neighborhood and spend thousands of dollars a year on technology that didn't have a proper proof-of-concept until recently."

"What's your point?" asked Jack.

"Where is the money coming from?"

"If you must know, we have a sponsor," replied Maddie, "after our dean proved to be too small-minded for our research, we were approached by a man who was more open to the possibility of inter-dimensional research."

"He wanted us to study ghosts!" cut in Jack, "He even gave us our very first sample of ectoplasm!"

"That one sample was the backbone of our research for years, until we got our portal running."

"You never asked where he got that sample from?"

"He seemed like a trust-worthy fellow," dismissed Maddie, "all he asks is for copies of our experiments and for ectoplasm from our portal."

"What sort of experiments?"

"Well, at first we needed to verify the psycho-active behavior of the sample," recalled Maddie, "if you give me a second, I have my research around here somewhere."

"You took the sample to several morgues," Batman told them, "the sample's most drastic and extreme behavior occurred when it was placed close to bodies who had a history of violent and anti-social behavior in life."

"Maddie, the League's reading our papers!" Jack giggled excitedly, "But yes, it's how we know that all ghosts are evil ectoplasmic scum!"

"You never questioned the origin of the sample?"

"It was the only sample we had," pointed out Maddie, "but it's properties matched all of our theories."

"The man you spoke with was Ra's al Ghul," he informed them, dropping a folder full of pictures and documents for them to peruse, "thousands of years ago, Ra's found a well of green water that is now known as a Lazarus Pit. Using its power, he has rejuvenated himself time and again to maintain his position as the head of the League of Assassins. After some experimentation, he found the same pits could keep his forces alive, even in death.

"Over time, the League came across a problem that threatened their continued existence. They were consuming the Pit's water faster than it was replenishing itself. After much experimentation, they found a solution. At the moment of death, when the human soul passes over to the Infinite Realms, what you call the Ghost Zone, a small amount of ectoplasm leaks over to our side."

"Wait, you don't mean...?" Maddie trailed off, horror settling in.

"Ra's killed people en masse to replenish his pool," affirmed Batman, "further experimentation revealed that people who died in a state of extreme fear or pain provided more ferocious soldiers. That is where your sample came from.

"In it's neutral state, ectoplasm reacts equally to all emotional ranges. Repeated exposure to emotional extremes will imprint the ectoplasm, causing it to react more strongly to a specific emotional range than to others. The negative emotions of Ra's victims imprinted on the ectoplasm, resulting in your skewed results."

"Wait, how would you know that?" demanded Maddie, "We're the foremost experts on ecto-science and we didn't know that!"

He pulled out a thick folder and slammed it onto the table.

"I had my research peer-reviewed."

"By who?" asked Jack, "We looked all over and couldn't find anyone in the scientific community!"

"You weren't looking in the right place. There is a branch of the Justice League that specializes in the supernatural, ghosts and demons chief among them. They want me to bring you in."

"Really!? Did you hear that Mads! We're being recruited by the Justice League!"

"They want me to arrest you," Batman corrected them, "for illegal poaching of innocent and neutral spirits, particularly after last week's attack on their newest member, Danny Phantom."

"The Ghost Boy!?" roared Jack, "That no-good ectoscum made the League before we did!?"

"I have watched his fights. He takes care to avoid collateral damage and only appears when other ghosts attack, sometimes at great personal cost."

"Look, Mr. Batman," sighed Maddie in a condescending tone, "we've fought the ghost boy for years. He has a history of crime and violence. If you look far enough, you'll find-."

Batman had no time for nonsense.

"The League has already looked into the incidents. All show indications of either coercion or mind control."

"Ghosts are deceitful and conniving-!"

"We have already established that your initial sample skewed your results," he cut Jack off, "this would imply that all of your research and experiments need to be reassessed, including your opinions towards ghosts in general.

"Regarding Ra's al Ghul, you will need to continue working with him. Cutting contact suddenly may put you and your family in danger."

That caught their attention.

"What do we need to do?" asked Jack, all jokes and outrage immediately tossed out the window.

"Keep doing your research with this new information in mind. Your experiments have been applied to the Lazarus Pits, resulting in unstable results. Recent subjects have come out in a mindless rage, while others have shown no effect on their mind, and yet others have had no effect. Ra's is already skeptical of your continued collaboration. If you provide him with research based off this new information, he may decide you are not worth his time or money. When it comes to Ra's, your best option is dismissal to irrelevance. You do not want to make an enemy out of him."

"It's not just that," admitted Maddie, "if we were the only ones being affected, we'd simply let him know we're exploring new horizons outside of ecto-science. The thing is, we have two children, one in college and one near graduation."

He gave them a card. "Call that number. All of their college expenses will be taken care of."

"I... Bruce Wayne?" read out Jack.

"We've collaborated before, he is trustworthy," he reassured them, "the next part is up to you. Will you be scientists, or poachers?"

Their lights flickered, and he was gone.

[evilminji]

:O !!! Wait a second... GHOST DINOSAURS!!!

They died. There are ghost animals. You CAN NOT tell me getting fuckin nuked from space by a GIANT rock that blasted you and everything you've ever known into near instantaneous oblivion, wouldn't leave some Unfinished Business and a shit ton of Ectoplasm.

BILLIONS of things died all at once.

Did most move on? Probably. We're any of them sentient? We have no idea! Maybe! Unlikely, but maybe! Still a MASSIVE, countries wide, molten earth lined, crater of instant death. World shaking and history making. Death in the blink of an eye.

If you're lucky.

But! I hear the arguments now. That was one event. The X or Y dinosaur lived before that! What I'm interested in came AFTER! Good points! But not RELAVENT!!! Because you know what ELSE that giant fuck-off meteor is good for? Aside for Death(tm)?

Television.

Makes for some damn good documentaries. Exciting graphics and neato visual effects. Ooooh~ look at our dramatic recreation! The cute baby animals, unsuspecting of their Doomed Fate~! Tense music! And now, a world from our advertisers!

You know who LIKES Space Documentaries? Danny. He's all ABOUT that Science Channel. Granted, they've been pulling more and more of these mid-tear "aliens built the pyramids" and "look at these swords!" Shows... but! Still! He grew up on this channel! He doesn't WANT to give up on it!

And, yeah, this is... kinda hammy... but it's still watchable!

He's enjoying the live tweeting from paleontologists who are ROASTING the thing to a lovely golden brown. Has choked on his noodles like three times already. It's great! But now? They are arguing over what the dinosaurs actually looked like again... and??

And, look, maybe it's the good mood and boredom. Maybe it's having the house to himself. Maybe it's his parents finally encouraging him to use his "ghostiness" for SCIENCE(tm)(!) the other day. Could even be his bad idea impulse acting up again, buuuuut.....

Teeeeechnically?

Nothing? Is STOPPING him? From finding out? He DOES have Zone compatible cameras. And can probably back trace where they should-ish be? He can find out. The colors might be off, but it's a starting point? Right? And heck, he's pretty sure inverse coloration in standard unless someone's shape-shifting, so he'd just have to inverse it AGAIN to get an approximately correct coloration for them!

....eh, as long as he leaves a "not exact, this was the best I could get" note, it should be fine.

Road Trip time! Better call Dani and see if she wants to ride a few giant mammals and some lizards!

(Needless to say? Some researchers get VERY exciting emails. And only accept they are POSSIBLE, because this is a DC crossover. So there is aliens and magic regularly popping up in their field of expertise, so WHY NOT? Just the other day, a whole ass TOWN that has been wiped out... got UN-wiped out! 23 years later! It's made headlines. Weird shit happens.

So gib. Release to them the Dinosaurs, mystery email man. Fork them over before they begin biting. You think this corduroy jacket means they won't hunt you down? HA! You know NOTHING of academics! WHERE ARE THE EXTINCT ANIMALS? Where are you hiding them!?!?)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @nerdpoe @ailithnight @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3

Part One | Part Two

To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol

"Robin, this is serious."

Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."

"I'm starting to think you're jealous."

"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."

"He'd probably get some if I asked."

In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."

"For someone so invested, you're not helping."

He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.

"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.

"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."

"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."

"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."

Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"

Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.

Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"

For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.

After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.

It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.

Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."

"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."

"What formula are you seeing here?"

"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."

Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."

"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."

"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."

"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."

"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.

Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.

Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.

The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.

The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.

"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.

Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.

When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.

"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.

"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.

And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.

Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.

"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."

"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"

"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."

A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.

Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."

The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.

Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.

Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.

Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.

"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.

Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?

But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."

Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.

Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."

Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks.

"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.

"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.

Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."

"Yes, sir."

Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.

Tag List: @estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!

[oncomingnight]

yandere! Scientist

Hello everyone, thank you so much for all of your support on my previous stories. I was extremely excited about writing this specific piece because it's sort of based on movie that's set to come out real soon. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send requests/speak to me in my ask box.

You met Seán while you were both freshmen in highschool. you noticed he was relatively quieter than everybody else in the classroom. He was the most knowledgeable student in that damned classroom, he was just stealthy about it. The two of you really got to know each other when you were selected as partners, selected based on the similarity of your scores, percentages and your ability to learn certain subjects.

Even after the project was finished and graded, the two of you still kept speaking to each other. The reason for that was because he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you. It took awhile for it to click into your head that he was attracted to you, but when you finally realized, you couldn't be more ecstatic.

He confessed to you at the beginning of your sophomore year. Whilst you were putting some of your belongings into your locker, he showed up behind you with blood red roses in his hand, along with a comically large basket of gifts. A tea-stained letter was nestled into the folds of one of the roses, inside of it was him expressing just how happy you've made him for the past year. How he wants your love reserved for him and him alone.

"Hello, Y/n, I'm sorry to have caught you off guard. You don't have to say anything until after I'm done talking but I have to tell you now because it'll do no good to either of us to just have this rot within me. You've been the subject of my love and utter adoration for...oh, dear...it's been so long I've now forgotten. But, I'll have you believe that I have never and will never forget how sublime you make me feel. Every time I think of you, I can't help but smile and think of our potential future together. Y/n, I wish so desperately to take care of you, touch you, kiss you, to hear my name on your lips for the rest of time, only if you'll let me. Now I'm ready, what do you think?"

You were absolutely stunned to hear such profound declarations of love fall from his lips, even more so when the declarations were about you.

You stood there with your bouquet of prickly roses, woven basket full of all you took joy in. You opened your dry mouth and said, "I can't believe you said all that about me. All of this is so beautiful, Seán. So, what do I think? I'm not sure what I think but I know I want to be your girlfriend."

After high school, he immediately got down on one knee to ask you if you'd be forever his woman. His wife. Of course, your answer was a tearful 'yes' as you blubbered about how much you loved him and about how so happy you were.

Highschool sweethearts!

You've always known about his appreciation for science and his interest to pursue a career in that topic. You can only imagine just how thrilled he was when he got a position in a government facility with the job he's always fought for. He picked you up and swirled you around, causing you to become temporarily dizzy as you giggled at his enthusiasm. Seán doused your hot and flustered cheeks with kisses as he smiled at your precious laugh.

He was so glad he'd managed to get a PhD and job in something that would make him enough money to take care of the both of you, but, mostly you. He was so appreciative to you for staying with him for all these years, always his perfect girl, always so supportive, always giving him beyond helpful ideas + advice. You were perfect.

Eventually, the world was struck with a variety of struggles, mainly caused by powerful political figures that simply did not agree with each other. Many people were caught in the crossfire, protests began being organized, riots ensuing right outside of government buildings. What followed all of these events? Well, the only reasonable answer. War.

Because of this, your husband was called into office and put into a group of other physics scientists. They claimed they needed a defense weapon in case of everyone being put into a harmful and treacherous situation. Seán was made the head man of the project.

This worried you to the fullest extent, maybe you were being dramatic but your husband's position in the project could make him a direct target. When you shared your thoughts with him he couldn't help but give you a small endearing smile.

"you've always been a worrisome woman, haven't you? Nothing will happen to you or to us. I'll make sure of it, I'm benefiting them by building this damned thing, they wouldn't dare let anything disrupt our life, m'kay?"

"Seán, I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. Yes, you're benefiting them which is exactly why you'd be in danger."

"I can take care of myself, mo mhuirnín dílis. You've witnessed it, no? Don't worry yourself any longer."

Now, you may be wondering what he's talkin' about. Well, don't worry I'll tell you.

Seán had taken you with him to visit the small fishing town he had grown up in. After eating a delicious meal with your in-laws, Seán was invited by some old friends to go out and drink at an old and creaky pub. They have been asking to meet you and this was a chance for him to show you off to everyone in town, so, he accepted.

The night remained still and calm, despite the occasional roar of laughter that would occur at the table. It was fun, you were so glad Seán took you out to see where he was gifted with life.

But then

As you headed towards the friendly barmaid to make an order of crisps for everyone seated at the table. As you waited to be handed your order, a ragged young man that looked incredibly haggard for his age due to all of the alcohol approached you. You were sure he was just going to request assistance in catching a cab as he looked far too intoxicated to do it on his own. But no. He just wanted some action.

He pushed himself onto you with his flirtatious words but after you rejected him, you had angered him to an extreme point. He gripped your arm hard enough to bruise and spoke into your face with a horrid stench on his tongue.

"Now why won't you just shut your little mouth and please a man, hm?" He grinned maliciously.

Suddenly, you saw a quick flash of a fist show in your vision, not expecting it to be Seán punching the man with all the force he had in his slim yet firm body. All it took was one hit for the man to be on the ground, passed out. Yet, Seán didn't stop there and he wouldn't have stopped if his friend hadn't yanked him off the man. He was slamming his knuckles onto the man's pale face until it was almost fully covered in a crimson red.

You'd never seen him act in such a rabid way but you weren't angry at him. He was just protecting you. In an extremely visceral and self incriminating way. He didn't care, he's done far worse in defense of you but those were things he'd done in secret.

You were already far aware of how protective he could get and how emotional he was when it came to you. Someone could say something harmful about you and he'd mutter under his breath in anger, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, and eventually kiss your forehead before leaving the house to go do what he knew needed to be done.

When the two of you were intimate he'd cry at times while expressing his incredibly deep affection for you. He loved seeing you like this, furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, your huffs and puffs when he teased you. "I'd kill for you, y-you know that, yeah? Oh, A mhuirnín, I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything."

There comes a lot of stress with his job, at times he'd return from work and burrow his head into your tummy, wrapping his firm arms around your waist. No matter how many times he messages you during work, no matter how many times he re-reads the letter you left him in his lunch, no matter how many times he calls you, he'll always yearn for your touch.

You lift his face from your stomach and remove his glasses, ruffling his dark curls after doing so. Your thumb gently swipes over his cheek, before leaning in and giving him a deep kiss. He melts into your touch and gives you a love-drunk smile.

His perfect girl.

The both of you would go on the loveliest getaway trips when he was able to take a break from work. You'd go to a restaurant and he'd hold your chin as he gently fed you pieces from the pasta you'd ordered, giving you time to chew and swallow.

When in clothing stores, he'd wait outside of the changing room on a cushioned seat, waiting to see his wife's lovely face and figure. He would never let you look at the price tags as that would discourage you from buying what you'd like, he didn't want that.

Seán has a habit of overworking himself to sketch out the building plans for the project he was assigned, he needed it to be perfect. This could change the future and if there even was a possibility that there'd be a future. You'd walk into his office, seeing his hooked nose being beautifully lit by the candle on his desk. He took a sip of his Bushmills whiskey before turning to look at you with eyes full of admiration. "You have to eat something, surely you know that. Plus, I made it so you have to eat it or else I'll get upset."

He's obviously very well known in the science world, I mean, his creation will determine the outcome of society. He's bound to get some recognition. People have come to be obsessed with the relationship the two of you have and the story of your love. Every photograph people see of the two of you, Seán is turned towards you with the most love sick look of them all. In photographs where he's alone, he may as well be the most stoic man in the world.

People would post slideshows of the two of you together and caption it with something along the lines of:

'me and him'

Others in the comments would practically point and laugh at the person with responses of:

'you wish.' 'y'all aren't that important ' 'try again' 'interesting 🧐.' 'Can you be serious...?'

This man is the most serious man in the entire universe when he's at work and surrounded with his partners. But, when he's alone with you? He's nuzzling his cheek into your chest, kissing all over you, kissing your hand, hugging you from behind, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS.

Seán is the type of husband to pick up your coffee + bakery order to wake you up with, leaves you gifts and notes to find around the house, takes you to the most wonderful places anyone could ever go to.

He's so glad he made someone like you his wife.

Forever :).

[roosterforme]

Math for Aviators | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: It's your fault that Bradley finds math so sexy now. When he surprises you by sneaking into one of your lectures, he gets rewarded with a little time alone with the professor after class.

Warnings: Fluff, swears and smut

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Check out my masterlist

"See you two at the Hard Deck later?" Nat asked as Bradley climbed into the Bronco after work.

"Nah, it's my wife's late night on campus," he replied with a smirk. Calling you his wife had such a nice ring to it, he had all but stopped using your first name around his friends. "I'm gonna drop by. Maybe take a peek at her calculus lecture." 

She rolled her eyes in response. "Tell your wife I said not to forget about brunch on Saturday."

"I'll let my wife know."

He zipped out of the parking lot, still in his khaki uniform, and headed across town to San Diego State University. If there was one thing Bradley never thought would get him going, it was math. But you made it outrageously sexy with your PhD and your slutty little math tattoo. 

The fact that Bradley never got to attend one of your lectures during your first semester teaching in California felt like a crime. He'd wanted to, in the worst way, but your classes ended by six o'clock every day last term. But this time, you taught level four calculus on Thursday evenings. 

He parked and headed toward your building, smiling as some of the college aged girls looked at him as he strolled past. If they thought he looked good in his uniform, that was nothing compared to the fuss you usually made over him. 

Bradley followed a kid holding a skateboard into the mathematics and computer science building and turned left. He was only four minutes late for your class as he followed skateboard kid inside the lecture hall and let the door close softly behind him. The room was quite cavernous, but there were only about forty students in attendance. You always claimed you preferred the smaller classes so you could spend more time getting everyone where they needed to be individually. 

When his eyes met your body, Bradley almost moaned. You were leaning over the long table at the front of the room taking attendance, and you were wearing a white blouse tucked into that wool skirt he liked. Even your loafers looked cute. One of his favorite pastimes was picking on you for your east coast wardrobe, but holy shit, the professor look did things to him. Or maybe it was just you.

As you called out names, Bradley realized he was just standing in the back like an idiot, so he walked up a few rows and took an aisle seat.

"Francis?" you asked, and a girl who looked extremely disinterested raised her hand. "Luca? Alex? Did I miss anyone?"

When you looked up, your eyes found Bradley's almost instantly. The softest smile graced your lips, and Bradley desperately wanted to run down to where you were standing and kiss you. Instead he just winked, and then you were opening two additional notebooks on your table. 

"Before we get started, just a reminder about my office hours," you said, your voice projecting beautifully. Bradley had to adjust himself in his seat, because you were speaking right to him. "I'm always available to spend a little extra time with you should you need it." 

He was well acquainted with your office and the way your voice echoed off the walls when he made you scream his name. He would make it a point to join you for some office hours again soon. But right now, he was going to sit back and enjoy how much smarter you were than him.

"If you recall last week, we talked about the theorems of Green and Stokes. Let's focus a little more on the Green theorem. This is simply the relationship between the macroscopic circulation around the curve C and the sum of all the microscopic circulation that is inside C."

Bradley was already breathing a little heavy. Holy shit. Was he actually married to the smartest person in the world? It fucking sounded like it. And then you ran your fingertips gently along the side of your neck, and he sat up a little taller in his seat. But so did skateboard kid who was sitting in front of him. Bradley glanced around the room, and it looked like all the twenty something guys were hypnotized by you. The looks of open adoration on their faces as you turned toward the white board to work out a problem reminded him of the way he used to stare at you when he was twenty one. If he was being honest, he probably still did.

As you worked out the problem and bent at the waist, Bradley needed to adjust himself again. And when you turned to see if anyone had a question, you looked directly at him as you touched your neck again. 

"She's so hot," skateboard kid whispered to the guy next to him.

"Yeah," he grunted in response. "She's like extra hot today."

Bradley leaned forward, grinning and softly said, "That's my wife."

They both turned around to look at him briefly. Skateboard kid nodded in appreciation, and the other guy said, "Well done."

And then Bradley settled back in his seat and watched every move that you made. When you wrote out another equation in your tidy handwriting, you made the variables spell out B-E-E-R-B-O-Y. Every time you glanced at him, your fingers were touching your body somewhere that he was familiar with. He was itching to get his hands on you. 

It was an hour and a half of pure sexual tension, and Bradley knew you were enjoying yourself. Knowing he was sitting in the lecture hall seemed to be making your voice a little breathy. You were throwing out terms like "gradient, divergence curl, line and surface integrals, and differential equations" that were making him hard. This was foreplay at its finest. 

When you ended your lecture with some reminders about your class schedule, you had your hands on your hips, and your diamond ring was glittering on your hand. Bradley smirked as a line of students, mostly male, formed in front of you once you dismissed everyone. And now he understood why you got home so late on Thursdays. Because all these guys had a crush on you. On his wife.

Bradley was semi hard, and you kept glancing up to make sure he was still there. He wasn't going to go anywhere, you must know that. When you were finally helping skateboard kid with whatever question he fabricated just to have a chance to stand next to you, Bradley glanced down at his lap. Maybe you'd let him have some private office hours right now.

When the lecture hall was finally empty, save for the two of you, Bradley watched as you continued to tease him. You didn't glance to where he was sitting at all as you packed up your bag. And when you erased the board, he could tell you were standing on your tiptoes to make your ass look extra enticing just for him. 

"Professor Sugar," he groaned, rubbing himself through his khaki pants. 

You glanced at him over your shoulder with a devilish look on your face. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to my lecture?" you asked quietly, but he could still hear you perfectly. 

Bradley grunted. "Got dismissed a little early. Just thought I'd surprise you."

"Did you learn anything new?" you asked, grabbing your bag from the table and heading his way.

"Nothing new," he replied. "Just a refresher course on how smart and hot my wife is."

You smiled as you set your bag down next to his seat. "I love it when you call me that." Then you came to stand between his spread thighs and leaned down to kiss him gently. Bradley let you tease him with feather soft kisses for a minute before he was aching inside his pants. 

He ran his rough hand along your pretty neck and asked, "Can I join you for some office hours? I really need them, Professor Sugar." When you giggled against his lips, Bradley wrapped his muscular arms around you and palmed your ass, pulling you onto his lap with a squeal. 

"Beer Boy!"

"Please? I'll be your top student, Baby. Better than that loser with his skateboard."

"You know, I'm starting to suspect that Luca might have ulterior motives for taking my class again this semester."

Bradley chuckled as he pushed your skirt up your thighs a few inches. "Yeah. His ulterior motive is your ass." Then he lightly slapped said ass as you raked your fingers through his hair and straddled him in the auditorium seat. "I know you can feel me, Sugar," he whispered. "Office hours? Or are you gonna make me wait until we get home?"

But instead of responding, you just rubbed yourself against him. If you weren't wearing panties, he would have a pretty, little wet spot to show off as he walked back to the Bronco. You tugged harder on his hair so his head was tipped back, and you kissed him a little rougher.

"I'm in charge in the lecture hall, not you. And I say no visit to my office."

Bradley groaned as you sucked on his neck, and he muttered, "Making me walk back to the Bronco hard?"

"No," you whispered, and his cock throbbed. "I'm going to suck your cock right here." Your smug smile as you pulled away from his neck left him blushing, he could tell. 

"Right here?" he asked, but your hands were already working on his belt buckle and zipper, and he lifted his hips in the seat so you could yank his pants down a little bit. 

"Mmhmm," you hummed against his lips before you walked to the back of the auditorium, leaving him sitting there with his hard cock out. 

"Sugar?" he whispered, covering himself with both hands as he craned his neck to see where you went. You flipped the lightswitch next to the door and peered out the small window into the hallway, and then you strolled back to where he was sitting. Bradley let you take his hands in yours and set them on his thighs as you knelt on the floor in front of him.

You looked so pretty, your skin illuminated by the soft lighting shining around the perimeter of the room. Your eyes were bright and mischievous as you looked up at him and kissed the precum away from his tip. Your pink tongue darted out to clean your lips before gently swiping the underside of his cock, and Bradley had to grip his thighs to keep from thrusting. Because it was clear you were going to take your time right now. 

"You are so hard, Beer Boy, you're absolutely throbbing."

When you took an inch or two between your pouty lips, Bradley's head tipped back. "I love math," he groaned. "It really gets me going. And I love your smart mouth."

You hummed around his length as you took another inch and swirled your tongue. Then you pulled him out with a soft pop, his head snapping back up to look at you. "You're such a good student," you whispered. "Top grades. Teacher's pet. Big cock."

"Fuck," Bradley grunted. "I'm coming to your lecture every week, Professor."

You smiled as you gripped him in one hand and licked up and down along the underside of his cock until he could feel your saliva dripping down his balls. He ran his thumb along your cheek, and then you took him deep so he could feel himself there. He groaned your name as he tapped the back of your throat, and you gagged for him. It was so fucking pretty the way he made your eyes water. 

If you weren't concerned about getting caught, then he certainly wasn't going to bring it up. He'd be lying if he said the idea of a public blowjob wasn't adding to his arousal. Hell, he thought the way you and he went at it in the college library study room was hot, and that door had a damn lock. So this was next level.

Bradley grunted in the quiet room, and the acoustics made the sound carry. You were bobbing along his length, making obscene little noises, and he just couldn't take it anymore. His hands found the back of your head, and after one thrust, your moans echoed around the room. 

"I love that sound," he growled, slowly fucking your face as you sucked on him. You kept eye contact with him as he started to come undone, his hips leaving the seat as he wanted more of you. Now you were gripping his thighs, ready to take his cum like a champ. He was there. He was right there. One more tap against the back of your throat. All your saliva dripping onto your blouse. It was everything. 

He knew you already knew it, but he grunted, "I'm cumming," as he spurted into your mouth and down your throat. Gripping the back of your head, he fucked your mouth with shallow thrusts until he slumped back akwardly into the seat with a long groan that filled the room. 

When you withdrew him, his cock was messy and you were grinning as you stuck out your tongue, showing off his load. "Gorgeous," he whispered with a smirk, watching you swallow him down before licking his softening length clean. "I love being the teacher's pet." 

You giggled as you helped him get tucked back into his khakis. "I only suck the dicks of my students with the highest grades."

"Hey now. You're my wife. You better only be sucking my dick," he rasped as you stood up in front of him and shrugged.

"Then you better keep getting top grades, Beer Boy." 

Bradley was obsessed with you. He quickly wrestled his belt into place as he followed the sway of your ass up to the auditorium doors. "I can't wait to see that skirt on the bedroom floor when we get home," he said as you pushed the door open. And there stood the janitor, about to enter the room to clean it. "Shit," Bradley grunted, still fiddling with his belt. 

But you just waved and said, "Goodnight, Herman," as the janitor smirked at Bradley. 

He didn't even bother with his belt after that. He just took your hand in his and walked with you to the Bronco, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you once your skirt was on the bedroom floor. 

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

This was written to celebrate the birthday of the lovely @mak-32 ! Beer Boy and Sugar wouldn't even exist without you, Mak! I hope you have the most wonderful day! Thanks for your help and the banner @beyondthesefourwalls

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[starstruckmiraclekitty]

If you haven't already, could you do something where ghost first meets f!reader? Like super cute love story, how it began maybe also how it's going? (can include smut if you're willing love a good smut lol) I'm so down bad for the cuteness overload because I'm waiting for my own Prince Charming 😩

It was a rainy, miserable day in Manchester, and Simon was growing increasingly bored. He'd been home from deployment for a few weeks now, and the pile of books he had waiting for him at home had long been read, leaving Simon with nothing to do.

Deciding against his better judgement, Simon left the comfortable anonymity of his home, and walked to the local bookstore located two blocks from his small English flat.

It was a spot he always visited when he was home from deployment. The little old lady who owned it was always so nice to Simon, and would always set aside books she knew he'd like.

"Hey Barb." Simon greeted in his gruff British accent, smiling at the woman behind the counter as he walked in.

"There he is, I was wondering when you'd come back home, solider. Got a few books set aside for you, but we've updated our inventory, why don't you take a look around?" Barb smiled warmly at him, gesturing to the abundance of shells laid sporadically throughout the small store.

Simon nodded politely to her, a small smile dancing on his lips as he made his way to one of the shelves. The shelf he always started with, Science Fiction.

The minute his eyes landed on it, he knew he had to have it. He'd been looking for a first edition "Dune" for a long, long time, and here it was just before him. He was so tunnel visioned, so solely focused on the book, he hadn't noticed a small hand reaching for it at the same time he was.

His hand grazed the other persons, and he quickly pulled himself from his daze, looking over and finding you, and Simon could’ve sworn his heart stopped right then and there. You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and the small giggle that emitted from your lips as he stared at you caused his cheeks to burn crimson.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't notice anyone else was here." Simon murmured, his voice coming out shaky. Damnit, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Don't worry about it. I didn't notice you were going for the same book.” You replied, your cheeks now as red as his.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, your eyes still lingering on one another’s, as you were both clearly flustered in the moment.

“Uh, go ahead and take the book, it’s yours.” Simon gestured to the shelf.

“No, no it’s really okay. I’ve read the damn thing at least a half dozen times, I don’t need another copy.” You insisted, taking a step away from the shelf.

Simon grabbed the book, and handed it to you with a smile, as he slowly found his confidence. “Please, take it.”

“If you insist..Have you read it before?” You asked, your head tilting slightly in curiosity. “I’ve not met a lot of people who’ve read it.”

“Not as much as you it seems, but I’ve read it a few times. It was my moms favorite book.” Simon said sheepishly, his mind wandering to thoughts of his mother. “It’s an amazing series, I just wish I had more time to read it.”

“Not enough free time?”

“Never enough free time.” Simon chuckled.

“If that’s not relatable, I don’t know what is. I’m a teacher, over at the university. It seems the only free time I get I’m grading papers, or I’m here with Barb looking at the new books she puts out. I’m Y/N, by the way. I’ve not seen you around before.”

“Simon. I don’t come here terribly often. I'm on leave at the moment and I’m due for a book restock. Teacher huh? What do you teach?” He replied, his eyes drifting back towards yours.

“English, funny enough. So you’re a soldier then?” You asked, your interest in the handsome man before you increasing.

“Something like that.” Simon said, his insides melting as he watched you watch him intensely. Simon wasn’t good at small talk, but he was trying his hardest for you. He didn’t want this conversation to end.

The two of you continued to talk for a few more minutes, the conversation ranging from the weather, to how long the both of you had been coming to this little book store, to your shared interest of science fiction.

“Well, I hate to break this up but I’ve got class in 20 minutes and my students will never let me hear the end of it if I’m late.” You said, not wanting the conversation to end. "It was really nice talking with you."

"Yeah, you too." Simon said, his confidence wavering slightly as he failed to come up with anything else to say. He desperately wanted to ask you for number, but didn't have the nerve to do so.

"I'll ask one more time, are you sure you don't mind?" You asked, holding up the book in your hand. " I feel bad it's the only copy here."

"Of course." Simon nodded, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Besides, it's probably better off in your hands. I'd honestly never get around to reading it, so it'd be more of a table piece."

You nodded, flashing him a warm smile. "Well it was lovely meeting you, Simon. I really hope to see you around here soon."

"I'd like that." Simon agreed, watching as you walked to the front, the smile on his face not faltering in the slightest.

Simon continued to stroll amongst the shelves, nothing quite catching his eye as his thoughts drifted back to you. He regretted not getting your number, and letting his nerves get the better of him. He could only hope that he'd see you in here again. Perhaps he'd make a few more trips here before his next deployment.

He made his way back up to the desk, anxious to see what books Barb had set aside for him. She always knew just the right books for him.

"The woman that was just here left you this." Barb said, passing something to Simon, a knowing smile touching her lips. "Seems you've made quite the impression on our little English teacher."

Simon looked down at the counter, and saw the book he thought you'd left with, and found a small note attached to the front. 'Enjoy the table piece. If you’re interested, I’d love to discuss the book over a tea- Y/N' Simon felt his heart flutter as he re-read your note over and over, his eyes falling to your phone number, neatly written at the bottom of the note.

"Sounds to me like you've got yourself a date, young man." Barb said, meeting Simons eyes with a smile.

"I believe I do." Simon replied, fumbling to put your number in his phone. And he couldn't fucking wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Planning on making this a multi parter? Or just leaving as is- I've not decided yet.

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Hey, i've read a few of your slasher posts and i really like your writing. If you arent able to its perfectly alright but i was wondering if I could get a few slashers with a s/o that can't feel pain and so is unaware when they get hurt. It could be when meeting or having already known eachother. Thank you so much!

Reader out here like:

Michael Myers 🎃 (First Meeting)

He watched from the shadows as you pulled glass from your forearm, without even flinching.

If anything, the annoyed expression on your face was amusing to him. He'd seen many things in his life, but this was new.

For a moment he forgot why he was stalking you through the decaying house of his childhood. Instead he continued to watch as you searched for something to cover the wound.

It wasn't until your eyes met his, that emerged, holding a first aid kit in his hand.

Jason Voorhees 🏕 ( Dating)

Good lord, are you trying to give him a heart attack? I mean, he might already be dead, but still!

It was so innocent at first, you truly trying your hardest to keep up with himself during walkies. He's just got dem long ass legs.

Well next thing you know, you're on the ground and you're bleeding. Jason's panicking, you're not. He doesn't understand, he sees bone. Wtf?

Don't try to explain the science to him, he doesn't care. Now he's just worried about you not being able to tell if you're injured.

Hannibal Lecter🩺 (Before Dating)

Fully understand the science behind it. It may or may not be one of the reasons he was interested in you.

However, it wasn't until you nearly chopped a finger off helping him cook and look down and was like "K." that he felt worried.

Even if you're not accident prone, accidents happen. And you, not feeling pain which mean there's not properly connected in parts of brain that receive the pain messages, which means you might potentially-

He's spiraling in that science shit™️

[nyanyakoto]

Could I request reader who always spends time with dottore’s segments and not Dottore himself so he gets jealous and punishes the reader nsfw please 🤭

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

╔══════╗

✦𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃: Il Dottore; Fem! Reader

✦𝐓𝐖: NSFW; Absolutely downright filthy smut bc it's our favourite doctor. Breeding, CNC if you squint. Reader being a brat and ignoring Dottore.

✦𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This is such a brainrot.. Thank you for requesting anon 😇

✦𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍: 2nd November 2023

✦𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: (◉⁠‿⁠◉)

╚══════╝

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

At first it was his fault, Dottore was a man of science, a rather busy one at that so he didn't spend much time with you personally.

He didn't mind how you spent your time with his segments, after all you wanted some attention so if it wasn't from him directly then his clones would do, right?

However over time he noticed that you continued to spend time with them even if he wasn't busy.

That's exactly when he began to feel possessive over you, watching how you lingered around the segments, leaning into them, laughing with them and treating them as if you weren't in a relationship with him.

He began to to notice his own irritability rather quickly, he was a man that prided himself in his ability to stay calm and collected even in the worst situations.

However his imposing stature began to crumble little by little, chipping away and disintegrating into nothing but dust as he continued to watch you from afar.

And that's exactly how you found yourself in this situation.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

"Dottore- What's gotten into you?" You asked, almost as if you didn't know what you were doing to him by ignoring him.

His hands had a bruising grip on your hips, tugging on the soft flesh as he drilled into your sopping wet entrance.

"What's gotten into me?" He would ask, calmly despite what he was doing to you right now, as if the way he slammed his hipbones into the plush of your ass was not getting him even slightly breathless.

"What's gotten into you? You're the one trading me for some cheap copies, isn't that right beloved?"

Your were bent over his adjustable height desk, one that he often used for various experiments and always had some sort of chemical bubbling in the delicate glass bottles.. but the desk was cleared of any chemicals, only scattered paperwork decorating it as well as your body that was pressed down onto it. Your feet couldn't even reach the ground especially when his hands kept pulling your lower back upwards, creating more of an angle to your already arched back.

Your own shoes stepped on his ones, standing on your tippy toes so you had at least some resemblance of support while he rendered you senseless.

"You got- oh god- did you get jealous?" You tried to mock him even now, a victorious smirk tugging on your lips before his one hand firmly pressed your head back down onto the desk.

"You're gonna talk back now? Is that it?" His tone was condescending, cold almost without even an ounce of the usual teasing lilt that he had in his voice. He was dead serious and he was pissed off by your shenanigans.

He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes by now, the rhythm of his hips showing no mercy even if you begged for it and sobbed for it. You fucked up, you knew that much to not do that again.

"'umming- cumming!" You squeaked out as your walls spasmed around him, gripping him like a vice before eventually he was fucking you through the orgasmic wave. Soon after he too managed to climax, filling you up to the brim.

There was no need to fuss over him cumming inside, he'd figure out something for you tomorrow, a pill that wouldn't let you get actually knocked up by him. He was a man of science after all.

His hands let go of you, watching in delight at how you nearly slid down from the desk from how weak you felt. If not for his hips that were firmly pressed up against you, you would have fell to the cold floor of the laboratory.

And just as you thought that your punishment was over he leaned in and whispered.

"Fuck around and find out, isn't that what they say?"

You were definitely not walking in the foreseeable future.

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

Barnaby facts (confirmed by the devs)

Hello! Since I was bored and it's making me so happy to see Barnaby getting so much love lately, I've decided to collect all the info I have about him! I most likely missed something, so if you have info I haven't put here, or got wrong, let me know, ok? ^^

Anyhoo, here we go! **}

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

- Barnaby, despite his name, is not a barn owl. He's actually a long eared owl.

- Barnaby isn't his real name; he used to have a different one, back in his alive days. One of the drawings featuring him has him surrounded by many names starting with "B".

- Said illustration has "Who am I?" hidden among the names and words such as "Where" and "Help", hinting at something linked to his identity is torturing him.

- It's been stated that Barnaby is the way he is because of a dangerous experiment that corrupted then killed him, changing him completely as a result.

- Barnaby is asexual homoromantic, and is genderfluid: while he goes primarly by "he/him", he accepts any pronoun.

- He considers his Barnaboos as his "little pretties", and often offers help or advice if they need it; of course, his help may not be as helpful as he believes...

- He hates cheesecake.

- He's not a fan of rootbeer neither; he will serve it in his parties, but he personally won't drink it.

- His favorite food is eye scream, and favorite Halloween treat are caramel apples.

- As for ice cream, his favorite flavor is Strawberry Shortcake.

- Speaking of food, yeah, he doesn't need to eat, nor sleep. But still likes doing it anyway.

- Barnaby is a confirmed sleepyhead. He naps a lot, but never in an ordinary position, or in his bed; he tends to sleep in various gravity bending position, especially upside down.

- Meaning, yes, when Billie comes to steal his gem, he was sleeping!

- And when he sleeps, he apparently snores and hoots.

- While hugging him would result in a kill from him, Ash confirmed Barnaby is a hugger! Hugging him would still involve him squeezing or stabbing you to death, tho'. And he'd feel both soft and slimy to the touch.

- Barnaby is around 10-11ft tall, and with his size-shifting abilities, he can be any height he wants; when he was alive tho', he's as tall as Aristotle, more or less.

- He doesn't need glasses anymore, but sometimes will wear them because they make him look smart. They also tend to follow the eyes' movements.

- Barnaby is very emotional: while it won't stop him from trying to kill you, he will cry if he sees you cry. Ironically, he would comfort you until you feel better. Then he'll kill you.

- It's been confirmed that Barnaby's biggest fear has "already come true".

- His tears are orange, just like his eyes.

- Barnaby is not one to open his heart easily, but the moment he does, there's many ways to reach it. He's quite romantic, tho' not in the usual way: if you gave him a dead rat, he'd consider it a very romantic gesture!

- It's been stated he doesn't have a partner now, but in life, "maybe".

- When it comes to children, it's been confirmed he'd be the best caregiver alongside Dutch, althought for him "it's complicated".

- He apparently had a child of his own, if the picture posted about him during "Father's Day" is any indication. What happened to the little one hasn't been revealed yet.

- Apparently he's the least judgemental character in BBU!

- If he had a TV, it'd be old timey, and he'd watch something really random. Like ducks.

- Barnaby loves small critters; Ash specifically mentions they always linked him with guinea pigs. And indeed, Barnaby had a science guinea pig co-worker once, that turned into an actual guinea pig because of a reckless experiment, and he took care of them.

- He's able to control reality; it's unclear if it's his gem's doing, or his magic power as a ghost.

- In any case, he's now the most powerful character in the game

- Back in his alive days, he was a magic researcher and scientist.

- He actually owned the gem before he turned into a ghost. He even experimented on it, and it's suggested that actually sealed his fate.

- A lot of songs from Oingo Boingo and Lemon Demon fit him: Ash specifically mentioned "Weird Science" as really "Barnabycore"

- Barnaby is autistic: he stims by hooting and flapping his wings when he's excited.

- When he's scared or nervous, he tends to cover himself with his wings.

- Katie said that, if he were a candy, he'd be a sour blueberry.

- Barnaby lives in his own dimension, with his own mansion and everything. And he can travel between realities. Although one comment from Katie suggests he's trapped in there, but it's too early to say for sure.

- According to the devs, he was inspired by Weird Al Yankovic, Lewis from Mystery Skulls and Discord from MLP.

- No, he wasn't inspired by Snatcher, since the development of BBU has lasted longer than A Hat in Time. The two of them canonically know each other tho': only problem is, Snatcher hates Barnaby's guts and finds him too clingy, while the owl adores him.

- He canonically knows Wally Darling from "Welcome Home" and Kira from "Far Fetched" too, since he can travel between realities.

- Barnaby has his guests come to his home by portals that pop just below them. He apparently has kidnapped people before, every once in a while.

- He'd get along well with Dutch.

- It's left vague whether he knows Fantoccio or not.

- He actually has never met Arthur nor Aristotle before the game.

- In any case, he'd find Aristotle really funny, and wouldn't take them seriously.

-- Barnaby is aware of the player, and can break the 4th wall. And that's why only he can use Twitter.

- Whenever he writes on Twitter, hE WRiTSE LIkE THIS!!!

- Barnaby is REALLY mischeavous, and finds no problem in cheating in games. But if YOU cheat, then he gets ticked off.

- This suggests he's also a sore loser.

- Judging by his expression in the cutscene, he doesn't like being interrupted.

- It's been confirmed he smells like meldew. :P

- He could fake glitching out, then attack the moment you come to check out what's going on with him.

- He HATES party crashers. Also scarecrows: not good for conversations. And he's not interested in their crops.

- He can play the organ: Katie even suggested that if you hear it in the background of his chapter, that's him playing it.

- He was a young prodigy, back when he was alive!

- Don't be fooled by his goofy antics: he's very smart, still loves making experiments and can speak a lot of languages.

- Ironically, he hates skulls: he finds them icky.

- He was 25-26 when he died; he's been dead for 100+ years.

- Time is very important for him: that's why there's so many clocks in his parlor. It's been suggested he sees partying as a way to keep track with time.

- Despite that, Barnaby himself in the contest video has briefly stated he tends to forget what year it is.

- There's tons of pictures in his manor: all of them depict him, suggesting he's good at painting.

- Katie has noted that Barnaby "remembers everything". When asked if there's something he'd rather forget, they stated that "what he wants and what he needs are very different things".

- His family is "infinite", apparently. Then again, one of his very early descriptions stated he's got no friends nor family to speak about...

- He's been described as "self interested"

- When asked which character had the most trauma, without giving hints about being traumatized, Katie confirmed Barnaby as the answer, even stating his story makes them the saddest, alongside Fanto's.

- His favorite color is pink!

- He can change himself into lots of animals, and can even clone himself!

- When asked if he can talk to his alive self, Katie said it's "technically possible".

- Back when he was alive, he was noted as a dork and a hardworker, so much so he'd even pull one-nighters before making speeches for his research. Katie jokingly suggested that's why he parties so much: it's to make up for lost time!

- He had a different way of speaking, back when he was alive. And his icks were probably different as well.

- When he gets overwhelmed, he has a shutdown, and goes completely silent.

- At early stages, Barnaby was supposed to be a bug.

- The moment his design as a ghost was chosen, he went through a lot of palette options, like a pale blue color like he came from "The Haunted Mansion", or all colorful like "Dia de los Muertos". Ultimately they settled for his currently shadowy look because, not only it's easier to animate, it was in line with his backstory.

- Barnaby can melt. It's still unclear what triggers such a reaction, but some pictures hint that it's tied to his psychological state.

- Barnaby has been noted that he can talk fancy, but he's not eloquent.

- His favorite dance is the charleston!

- Ash has stated that in the game he is going to be depicted doing something similiar to "singing himself to sleep".

- Apparently he still makes pellets from his mouth. Dead or not, he's still an owl.

- He often puts emphasis on words, sometimes even making his bowtie spin.

- In the latest Twitter post featuring him, when you decode the garbled message, you can read: "Barnaby lies Along in his thoughts, Resting On the floor Neglected". Not only this hints at his turmoil, it also hides the word "BARON". It's unclear if it's his name, a title he possessed, or someone or thing else entirely connected to him.

- He loves recieving scretches on his head.

- Barnaby can cook, but he'll more often than not leave that to the Barnaboos.

- He's not that interested in gardening, even tho' he owns a greenhouse.

- He'd enjoy playing "Luigi's Mansion"!

- In Super Smash Bros. he'd main Meta Knight, even relating to him.

- He'd happily accept smoochies, apparently!

- His favorite party game is "Pin the tail on the owl".

- If you are his friend, he'd consider it even more of a reason to stay in the manor and never leave!

- He has claimed that he's used to give himself self love and compliments, since no one else does it. That, and his tendency to ask others for hugs or if they need a hug to calm down, suggests he's affection starved.

- He tends to react to compliments from fans by smiling bashfully, or happily shouting that he's popular.

- Katie stated that his favorite movie would be something unexpected, like "Marnie & Me" or "Up".

- Barnaby can see everything from the eyes of the plushies that look like him. So, if you bought one... watch out...

- Among his early designs, he also looked like a completely different owl, tall and austere looking, who was the guardian of the forest. It was changed because the devs wanted a goofy boss that could stand out among the others.

- Having said that, it seems Barnaby was the last boss to be officially revealed, and initially the game only had Elaine, Dutch and Fantoccio as the main bosses.

- Barnaby LOVES puns. A good deal of the lines he says when you get defeated in his chase contain a pun.

- You try being slick by stating you want to die of old age? Too bad: Barnaby will make you age rapidly. Despite that, Katie confirmed he doesn't have time related powers...

- Katie and Ash confirmed Barnaby can fly. And such a sight is apparently really hilarious.

- Barnaby loves shiny trinkets: if he sees a sparkly thread, he'll fixate on it and will follow its movements. It's like with a cat following a laser.

- Barnaby has teeth; they're orange and sharp, and come out when he's ticked off, or especially devious.

- When he was alive, he only used he/him pronouns. He became comfortable with all pronouns after he died. He's always been interested in men.

- This goes without saying, but still: he operates on cartoon logic. He can use both his wings AND his feet as hands. Even both feet can act as hands, even when they appear off camera. How? Because it's Barnaby and he can do anything he sets his mind into!

[obsessedwithlute]

If The Hazbin Hotel Characters Worked At A School

Charlie- You might think Charlie would be the principal but NO! Charlie is the therapist! She tries to get everyone into her office for a session by the end of the year- including the teachers! Vaggie- Vaggie would teach mainstream math. Her favorite thing about teaching math is giving people extra homework when they disrupt her class. (A lot of people leave with extra homework. One time Angel Dust walked in on her in the middle of a test, and she made him do a homework sheet).

Angel Dust- He is a substitute. He's actually qualified to teach computer science, but he doesn't. It's his best kept secret why he doesn't.

Husk- He teaches Italian. He's not properly fluent in Italian and only got the job because Lucifer lost a gamble to him and Husk said he'd let him keep his money if he did "one tiny favor". Angel Dust likes to lurk outside Husk's classroom when he gets the chance, and the second Husk mispronounces a word, Angel will stick his head in, correct him and then dart back out. Husk pretends to hate it but he actually finds it really hot. (Angel Dust was also actually the one who TAUGHT Husk Italian).

Lucifer- Lucifer is the principal. He doesn't really care what most of his employees do, including stalking the Italian teacher, cruel and unusual punishment during guitar lessons, or fucking in the janitor's closet. As long as "most of his employees" doesn't include Alastor.

Alastor- Alastor actually teaches health, or sex ed, or whatever you call it. He went to college and got a degree and didn't do it "The Husk Way" all so he could do two things: 1. Properly represent queer people, especially trans people, during the class because he knows, as a trans person, that it's really hard not to feel undermined during the class. 2. Make jokes about being an asexual person teaching sex ed (I'm not asexual/aromantic but it just seems like the kind of thing Alastor would do- especially considering how he reacts to Angel badly propositioning him). If you make a queerphobic comment in Alastor's class, you're dead. Possibly literally. Alastor never actually adheres to the curriculum, and Lucifer keeps trying to break into his class and catch him but somehow Al is always two steps ahead. When Lucifer is not at school, Alastor takes his whole class down to the kitchens and has them make jambalaya for the whole period. If you can't eat jambalaya, Alastor has a whole closet full of alternative ingredients for you but EVERYONE IS EATING SOME FORM OF JAMBALAYA OR EVERYONE HAS TO FIX ALASTOR'S VINTAGE RADIOS DURING DETENTION FOR A MONTH.

Lute- She teaches biology and is that one teacher who everyone either loves or hates. She runs the GSA and has weekly meetings and she's also the teacher who becomes your replacement mom if your real mom sucks. (This also applies to the teachers, she's also basically Angel Dust's mother by now). If you make a queerphobic comment in her class, she will stalk for exactly two weeks after you say it, slowly recording every single discriminatory thing you say. Then she will make you stay after school hours and reads off her entire list. Then she assigns you detention for two weeks and makes you write a 5-page essay on whatever chapter of Queer Ducks her heart desires in size 8 Arial font during the few precious hours of the day you don't have detention.

Adam- He teaches the jazz band, and if you play guitar, you get double lessons. Twice a month, Adam conducts tests randomly. You have to get up and play a song of his choice- no sheet music allowed. If you mess up even once, Adam gets to smack your guitar with a rock and you get to pay for the damages. (Lucifer knows, doesn't care, and makes rubber duck voodoo dolls all day long.)

Cherri- She teaches gym and if a student isn't running fast enough, she throws basketballs at them. Not hard to HIT them, but just enough to give them some motivation.

Sir Pentious- He doesn't work at this school. He works at a preschool in a different town. But since it's only a half-day, as soon as he gets the chance, he leaves and goes to stare longingly at Cherri while she somehow manages not to get fired. Everyone is just used to him being there, and he's fine with that.

[whereireid]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 — based on this ask | masterlist

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader

Summary: What Colonel Quaritch misses most about planet Earth are the woman. Luckily, you're a human whose more than eager to please to your superior.

— warnings: interspecies relationship ! nsfw content MDNI: tit fucking, imbalance of power, ruts

There is nothing that Colonel Quartich misses about Earth.

Nothing but the women.

Pandora is beautiful. A world with extravagant wildlife, the nature of the planet so beautiful and blue, with specks of lilac purple and lavender hues. It's foolish to not be in awe of such beauty, and Quaritch is no fool. He is in awe of everything that Pandora has to offer.

Except the women.

The women of Pandora. The Na'vi, and the Avatars, made of carbon fibre — body hard, rigid and strong, conditioned to survive the difficult climate. Though beautiful, with specks of Aqua blue and long, delicate limbs, they're not plush. There's nothing soft about the women of Pandora.

Quaritch wishes that he could be attracted to them. Especially since a perk of being an Avatar now means he suffers through a rut — a period where he literally gets so horny that the only way to cure his arousal is to fuck something.

Anything.

Even when in a rut, though, he can't bring himself to do it. His hands will linger on an Avatar, falling on their skin, which is hard and rough, and every feeling of arousal will disappear.

Quaritch needs relief. Desperately. His hand isn't enough anymore — it just leaves him with more frustration than before he even tried.

So, when he spots you, it feels like fate.

You're a scientist, a newbie, with pinned-up hair, two curls crusading down the sides of your face, a soft smile on your lips. A soft smile, which meets your eyes and has the corners crinkling. His eyes fall, tracing your body with his eyes, and he realises that he's found exactly what he's been looking for.

Quaritch waits, and watches. He's not sure when the right time to approach even is. He's been out of the game for a long time, now — the women of Pandora don't need charisma. They're easily pleased.

So, when you approach Quaritch, he's incredibly thankful.

"Colonel," you squeak, staring up at your superior officer, your small frame practically trembling beneath him. "I was asked by some of the other members of the science team, to ask you if on your next mission to the forests of Pandora, if — if you could bring back some fresh fruit."

He blinks down at you. Once, twice. You shuffle on your feet, neck craned in an impossibly awkward position to be able to see him. You're smiling, and it doesn't waver. Not even when he scowls, and grunts, "I can."

"You — you can?"

"Do you make your other superior officers repeat themselves?" Quaritch asks, trying to ignore the discomfort in his pants when your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"No, Colonel."

"I didn't think so." He kisses his teeth, tongue darting over his fangs. "I can get you the fruit, but only if you can do something for me."

"Anything."

Quaritch smiles.

That's how he manages to sort his issues out.

You're so delicate that it drives him crazy. All sense of dignity was abandoned long ago, when he'd first made his proposal — how could you say no to somebody whose so desperate for relief? Perhaps you are, too, with your crush on the Colonel consuming you, day-in, day-out.

"You're so soft," he says, his voice so low that it sounds like he's growling. His fingers toy with your nipples, rolling the buds between his fingers, watching as your breath hitches as he does so. "Sunshine, you have got no fuckin' idea how hard you make me."

"Show me," you whisper, voice sultry and seductive, tensing as he fingers pinch at your nipples gently.

There's nothing more perfect than you. In that moment, every issue of Quaritch's erodes away. He's got you exactly where he wants you — on your knees, your tits pushed together as much as they possibly can be, his cock sheathed between them.

"That hurt, sunshine? Squeezin' 'em so tight just to please me?"

You nod your head, your lips drawn between your teeth, your eyebrows crinkled in concentration. His cock is all lubed up, making it that much more slippery. It's so soft, so plush, your tits so perfect and round. So big, on human standards, but so small in comparison to his cock.

Holy shit, you're perfect.

You let him use your tits like you're a fuck-doll. Quaritch fucks into you, rolling his hips into your tits, groaning as the squelching sounds of the lube clap around his office. They bounce, they jiggle, they take him so well, and your eyes are so focused and you're pushing your tits together so hard, just so he can get a good grip.

It makes his orgasm that much better. His cock twitches, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. There's a heat which pools in his lower belly as he finishes, painting your chest with his cum, some shooting onto your chin and lips.

You're such a pretty mess. Quaritch collects his cum from your face, pushing it between your lips, and you suck, and he groans. His cock is still nestled between your tits, basking in the softness of you, the pillow-like cushion of your flesh.

He's going to have to do this again.

[moremaybank]

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

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