#the chemical brothers study

[esmes]

i'm not gonna lie to y'all... i am not the same person i was before i noticed these little moments :'''''''''(

[tenderjock]

i'm your best nightmare [agent carter college au]

inspired by this post & i'm tagging @redvanillabee because i need more michaeljack in my life

: :

There's a man he doesn't know talking to Peggy when Michael gets back with their drinks. He gives the fellow a semi-automatic once-over: designer jeans, a rugby that's never seen a rugby pitch, and loafers with no socks. Typical preppy American university boy. Michael slides in next to Peggy and hands over her whiskey sour, which she takes without looking.

"This is my brother," she says. "Michael, this is Jack. We're in a class together." The implication, from her tone, being that she had hoped that they would never meet outside of that class. Jack does not acknowledge the introduction with even a glance.

"C'mon, it'll b'fun," he says - slurs, really. He's much too drunk to be hitting on Michael's little sister, or really to be doing anything other than sitting down and drinking water. Michael takes a slug from his own ale. "A lotta the other law students'll b'there."

"Not interested," Peggy says firmly.

Jack ponders that for an inebriated moment. "Is't okay if I ask your brother?" he asks, finally. Michael straightens up, surprised to be pulled into the conversation.

"Sure," she says.

Michael is transfixed as Jack turns to him. His eyes are a little bloodshot and they're definitely not tracking properly, but they are placed in a face that is - well, he's cute. And Michael has a track record of liking arrogant little maladjusted pricks.

Jack opens his mouth, then closes it. He sighs. "No," he says, shaking his head mournfully. "I am not drunk enough t'go for a dude. But," he points a finger in Michael's face, getting uncomfortably close to his nose, "You look like an angel."

Michael doesn't know what his face is doing. Peggy snorts.

"A'right," Jack says. He clasps both of them on the shoulder and dips his head forward. "I'll see you 'round, Carter. Carters." The plural seems to confuse him for a beat, then he recovers. "Adios, auf Wiedersehen, aloha!" He blows one of them - it's unclear which one - a kiss and stumbles away, narrowly missing the doorframe as he goes.

"Oh, Peggy," Michael says, watching him go. "I want one."

"You'd only break him," Peggy says, and takes a sip of her drink.

[angstics]

that fucking store sells eyeball cds. i need to go back to that store.

[ariestrxsh]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, teasing, masturbation, edging, innocence corruption, blowjob, mommy kink, praise, small age gap, pervy!virgin!chris, sub!chris, older!reader, softdom!reader, slow burn

🖤 author' note: 🖤 spoiler - there's a scene in this fic where chris saves the reader's nude without her permission. please don't ever do this irl. it's messed up.

🖤 summary: 🖤 chris might be a virgin, but he's certainly not innocent. while helping chris study for chemistry 101, he admits to you he's never done anything sexual, but the whole time he's undressing you with his eyes. you're both stubborn and waiting for the other person to make the first move. who will cave first?

Thank you to @jakewebberswifee for the pervy!virgin!chris idea. I immediately saw the vision when I saw this one in my asks, and I hope that you think I did it justice. (':

'chemicals' part one

"Do you understand how I got this answer?" You asked Chris, and his gaze flicked up from your bare thighs to your eyes at the same time that you looked up at him from the page of his chemistry textbook. He was too busy imagining them as earmuffs, dreaming of diving between your legs to get a taste..

You guys sat side-by-side on his bed with the book between the two of you that contained diagrams and big words that Chris didn't really care to understand.

Chris wasn't doing well in his class, and his brother Nick had asked you if you could help him understand some of the concepts, considering you'd taken the same course your Freshman year of college a few years back and aced it.

He stared at you in silence. "Come on, Chris. You've gotta understand ionic bonds if you're gonna pass this class. Focus," you smiled at him, playfully slugging him in the arm while he wondered how that black, leather miniskirt you had on was conducive to him focusing on anything you had to say, much less anything having to do with Chemistry. Unless it was the sexual chemistry between the two of you.

"No, I get it. The elements share electrons and shit," Chris stared at your full lips while he nibbled on his own stuck in a fantasy about how they'd feel wrapped around the tip of his cock.

"But do you understand how many electrons they need to share to become a stable compound?" You intently looked at him, studying his expression while his perverted mind pretended that was some sort of lustful euphemism by some stretch of the imagination.

He had some electrons he wanted to share with you to help stabilize your compound.

"You know, I'm so sorry. I can't learn anything right now. My mind is somewhere else.." Chris shrugged at you. "Where's your mind?" You asked him, narrowing your gaze. In the gutter. "Just on some personal stuff," Chris replied, being as vague as possible to avoid telling you the vile thoughts about you that were clouding his focus.

"You know, you can talk to me about anything," You caressed his arm, and the feeling of your fingernails tracing against his flesh made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He dreamt about how your french tips would feel carressing his back while he plowed you.

Why not use this as an excuse to get a little sympathy out of you?

"You know, I'm just a little nervous about this being my first year of college and being so.. inexperienced," he smirked. This surprised you to hear, considering the sex appeal Chris gave off.

"Weren't you in a long-term relationship in high school?" You inquired. "Yeah, a year and a half. But she was a good little Christian girl. Wouldn't fuck me no matter how much I begged," Chris bit his lip, lowering his voice.

You shifted around uncomfortably on his bed. The thought of Chris begging had you entertaining thoughts you weren't proud of.

"Anyway, we ended things right before summer started," Chris shot you a fake disappointed look. He wasn't lying about what had happened, but he'd had time to process it and wasn't actually affected by it anymore. However, you didn't need to know that.

"Awh, Chris," you said sympathetically, cradling his face and caressing his cheek with your thumb. His cock twitched in his pants at how caring your voice sounded while you consoled him. He imagined how the pad of your thumb would feel grazing his other head.

"Yeah, it's been really hard. And lonely," he told you, glancing down at his lap, secretly referring to his cock. His voice was drenched in lust. Chris might have been a virgin, but he certainly knew what he was doing.

"Let me know if you ever need help with it. I mean, if you ever need someone to talk to," your eyes widened as you tripped over your words, picking up on Chris' signals and pulling your hand back from his face.

You could have sworn he was flirting with you and making you all flustered on purpose, but you couldn't tell if he was the one being a pervert or if you were. A slight smirk came across his face as he relished in your slip up.

"Anyway, we don't have to study this tonight. You clearly have a lot going on right now. When I get back to my dorm, I'll just send you my notes from a few years ago if I still have them," you smiled at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if you feel like I'm wasting your time," Chris apologetically looked up at you. He was lying. He loved wasting your time.

You paused, giving him a sympathetic look. "Chris, of course not. I'll see you again tomorrow for another study session," You rubbed his arm and smiled at him. "Text me if you need anything at all," you offered as you got up to walk out.

Chris was sad to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave. He was entranced by your ass, the shape of it in your leather skirt, and the way it slightly jiggled as your hips swayed while you strutted out of his room. Chris couldn't help the effect you had on him.

The second you closed the door to his dorm, he pulled off his shirt and took out his cock. He started fondling it while his mind was flooded by thoughts of you, keeping his strokes long, slow, and steady. Chris loved to tease himself. He almost adored it more than the act of actually getting off.

And after his relationship with his ex ended, Chris discovered the attention and reactions he'd get from women for still being so pure. He could have his way with almost any woman he wanted, but he was also holding out for the right one.

However, not in the same way as his ex. He was holding out because he liked dangling his virginity in front of women, seeing what kind of responses he could get out of them. Especially women who were a little older and a little more experienced. They'd often answer sympathetically and in an almost maternal manner, and nothing got him going more than that.

Some would get uncomfortable, some would flirt back, and some would outright throw themselves at him. He loved that he knew how to elicit their pity and also their desperation. Some of the more shy women would fumble over their words and blush while he taunted them with his innocence.

It was somewhat of a front, but he really hadn't had sex. He hadn't even gotten a blowjob or handjob before. The most he'd ever done was one night on his ex's couch when they'd gotten carried away in a heavy make out session, and she'd let Chris reach under her top and graze her nipples with his fingers. He could still remember how they hardened under his touch and the way she had mewled against his lip when he did this.

But he liked being a tease, and it forced him to empathize with his ex. He knew he probably could have had his way with you in his dorm room that night if he wanted, but he adored the slowburn. He liked the chase, and whether he was doing the chasing or being chased didn't really matter much to him.

He took his nails and ever so gently ran them up his length, biting his lip due to how amazing it felt. He took the pad of his thumb, trying to match the same tempo and pressure you'd used when you rubbed his cheek, and he started running his thumbprint over his tip, smudging the clear fluid that leaked out while he shut his eyes, shuddered, and smiled to himself.

He continued caressing the swollen mushroom-shaped head while he started to gently stroke his shaft, but he kept the pace unhurried and his touch soft, eliciting a wonderful feeling and stimulating all of his favorite nerve endings while he moaned your name.

He wondered what kinds of noises you'd make and how your face would look while you were being pleasured. He pictured you in all kinds of different positions while he pumped his hand back and forth a bit faster. His chest rose and fell at a quicker pace as his breathing pattern sped up.

He felt a familiar sensation in his stomach as he neared sweet release, but he reduced the speed of his strokes to draw it out a bit longer. His cock was already so sensitive, and the way he edged himself increased the sensitivity even more.

Chris did this for the next half hour, bringing himself as close as he could get to orgasm and then slowing down or stopping to savor the sensation a little longer. His mind swirled with images of you while he brought himself to the edge a final time.

He couldn't take it anymore. His cock was so responsive to his touch.. It begged for relief.

While delicately, expertly, and relentlessly teasing his tip, his dick started to pulse, and a rope of his hot, sticky fluid erupted with incredible pressure behind it, and painted his stomach, his chest, and a bead of it landed on his cheek. "Fuuuckkk," he let out in a shaky moan while he finished, draining every last droplet from his member.

His orgasm lasted several glorious seconds, the sensation rhythmically washing over him and leaving a buzzing feeling all over his body and a ringing in his ears once it ended. He slowly came down from it like a feather floating to the ground. He laid there with his eyes closed, wiped the drop of cum from his cheekbone, and smirked while his breath found its way back to him.

Later that night, you were in your own dorm room, reflecting on the study session you'd had with Chris. You couldn't put your finger on what it was about Chris that made you so wet for him, but you'd been thinking about it since you'd left his room.

Maybe it was his innocence. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't innocent at all. Maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe he'd found a way to get inside your head, and it was driving you crazy.

You couldn't stop replaying the way he was looking at you earlier with his tempting blue eyes and the way he spoke to you, his inflection coated in a layer of seduction.

Was that how he meant for it to come across? Or were you perverting the situation? When he told you he was a virgin, was he hoping you'd offer to show him how good it feels to fuck? Did he know you wanted to?

Before you could continue to spiral and overthink the interaction, you remembered - the notes! You pulled out an old crate in your closet that had all your assignments in it from every college course you'd taken to date. You knew it'd come in handy one day.

You found your notebook from Chemistry 101 and flipped to the section on ionic bonds and stabilizing chemical compounds, and you took pictures of the pages on your phone. You found Chris' contact and started sending off the pictures when a diabolical idea crossed your mind..

While flipping through your camera roll and selecting pictures to add to the message, your thumb hovered over the last nude you'd taken. It was a subtle but risky way to find out where Chris' head was at, to see if he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. You quickly selected the risqué photo of you and sent it off.

When Chris checked his texts, his jaw dropped when he came across the last one. It was you, sprawled out on your bed, laying on your back. Topless. It was actually an extremely tasteful photo, the kind you'd see in a dirty magazine or a boudoir shoot. He admired the curves of your body, your beautiful breasts, and your seductive expression as you looked into the camera.

Another text from you came in almost immediately. "OMG!! Please ignore that last picture! I didn't mean to send that.."

But Chris knew better. He was familiar with this game. He had triggered your pity, and now your desperation for him. He bit his lip, knowing he'd worked his magic on you, and you were now caught up in his spell. He decided to throw you a bone and flirt back, knowing that's what you secretly wanted.

"I could study that for hours.." he texted back, but followed it up with, "the notes I mean. ;)"

You blushed when you read his response. "Please delete that. I'm so embarrassed!" You replied, trying not to be too obvious about the chokehold Chris had on you.

"Of course. I'd never keep a photo of you like that without your permission.." Chris typed out as he devilishly grinned and saved it to his camera roll. He couldn't let such a beautiful photo go to waste. It was against his moral code.

He slipped his hand into his waistband and took his time rubbing another one out while he savored the picture of you, hoping to burn it into his memory so he could access it whenever he wanted.

The next day, after you attended all your classes, you wandered over to Chris' room again. You hesitated for a moment before knocking on his door. It swung open and the gorgeous boy you couldn't stop thinking about stood in the entrance, and when he saw you, his pupils dilated and he very subtly glanced you up and down, his gaze lingering on your chest for a moment, remembering the photo of you.

Chris noted how snugly your plain white top fit you and how short your denim skirt was, the hem barely hitting your mid thigh. "Hi," he shot you an innocent smile. "Hey, Chris," you responded, nervously biting your lip. You wanted to address the elephant in the room - the nude you'd 'accidentally' sent Chris the night before, but you weren't going to be the one to mention it first.

"Almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on," Chris teased you. That didn't take long.

"I'm so sorry, Chris. I didn't mean for you to see me like that," you blushed, avoiding eye contact with him. "Sure you didn't," Chris whispered, maliciously smiling at you and giving you a look like he wasn't buying it.

"Anyway, let's get into the elements again. I think we need to go over some basics before we start getting into covalent bonds," you said, changing the subject and pushing past Chris to get into his room. He checked out your ass as you walked past him.

"Who do you have for Chemistry again?" You asked out of curiosity. "Mr. Reid," Chris stated. "Oh, I had him," you responded, plopping down onto his bed. "Yeah, did you like him?" He wondered, retrieving his textbook from his desk.

"He was a good enough teacher. But he would always invite me over for dinner and a bottle of wine when I was only 19. He was kind of a pervert," you told him. "A pervert? Damn, don't you hate those," Chris devilishly grinned, basking in the irony. "So, that's how you aced his class," Chris insinuated. "Oh my god, Chris! No. I never went over there!" You laughed.

The two of you sat side-by-side on his bed, and you flipped to the periodic table diagram, and you and Chris started going over the way they were organized on the page. "Show me which ones are the alkaline metals," you told him, glancing up at his plump lips. He gazed up at you and then back at the page, pointing to a group of elements. "Good! That's right," you praised him.

"Thanks, mommy. I mean, teacher. I mean.." Chris nervously giggled, looking back up at you. It wasn't actually a slip-up. He just wanted to see how you reacted to being called mommy.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you raised your eyebrows, and your lips fell open slightly. The way Chris referred to you made your pussy throb. You tried to hide how much you liked it, but Chris could see through you. "You're such a good teacher. I wish you could teach me everything," Chris whispered, his eyes dancing across your expression while he licked his lips.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath as you dropped your pencil, completely caught off guard by how Chris was speaking to you. You were about to bend down to pick it up when Chris stopped you.

"I got it," he smiled as he fell to his knees in front of you. He was at eye level with your crotch, and he couldn't help but gaze up at your red underwear that peeked out from under your tiny jean skirt.

His eyes lingered for a suspicious amount of time before he retrieved your pencil. "Here," his lustful blue eyes met yours while he handed you your pencil, still kneeling on the floor in front of you.

Seeing Chris in such a submissive position had your imagination running wild. You fantasized about grabbing ahold of his luscious hair, tugging on it until he was whimpering, and stuffing his head between your legs. "Good boy. Make mommy cum," you imagined yourself saying to him while he hungrily lapped you up.

He slowly stood up and sat next to you again while you brushed off your disgusting desires. Chris could tell how hot and bothered he had you, and he wanted to see how much further he could take it.

"You know, something I find fascinating about chemicals is the way they react to one another. It's like they can't help it. Some of them reject one another. Some of them explode when they get near each other. Some get along really well. Some can't stay away from each other. Like people," Chris stated, lowering his voice and moving closer and closer to you while he maintained eye contact.

You thought for just a moment that you might kiss.. But Chris wasn't done teasing you. His eyes wandered your face, landing on your lips again, but he pulled his gaze away quickly and brought his stare back to the textbook.

The two of you were playing a game, trying to see who would cave first. You both wanted each other badly, but you were both stubborn and loved the anticipation and fervor that existed between two people right before they kissed or fucked for the first time.

It was like a limbo, a liminal space, a transit between point A and point B. You both liked it, suspended in time in a place that only the two of you could experience. It was where the imagination would run the wildest, shuffling through the possibilities of what could come next.

"I never thought about it like that," you swallowed hard. "What elements would we be? And like what chemical compound would we make?" Chris smirked at you. "I-I don't know," you stammered, not understanding where he was going with it. "Well, what elements can't stop thinking about how badly they really wanna fuck each other?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes.

It wasn't even a clever pick-up line, but the way his voice came through so sensually had your skin crawling with lust. Chris didn't need a clever way to flirt with you. He could have said, "Did you fall from heaven because suck my cock," and it would've worked on you. But you couldn't let him know. You wanted him to directly ask for it, to crave it, to need it, to get down on his knees and beg for it.

"Chris.." you started to say, pulling your eyes away from his. "I'm just saying out loud what we're both thinking," he smiled at you. "Let's get back to the textbook," you said, turning down his advance.

"You telling me you haven't thought about it? You telling me that picture you sent last night was an accident?" He teased you. "It was," you declared, clearing your throat.

"Sure it was. I might believe that if this were the first time this kind of thing happened to me," he rasped, getting closer to you again. "What do you mean?" You looked at him inquisitively.

"I know how women like you are. I tell you I'm a virgin, and you go absolutely feral. My innocence turns you on, doesn't it? You wanna be the one to show me about sex, hmm? You wanna be the first one to make me cum?" He cooed, narrowing his stare and practically reading your mind. You looked at him wide-eyed and speechless. You weren't sure whether to deny his claims or to fall to your knees and beg him to let you suck him off.

"No one's made you cum before? Ever?" You inquired as if that were the only thing you heard out of everything he'd just said. "Nope. No one's ever touched it or put it in their mouth.." His voice trailed off, and he bit his lip, giving you a sweet, innocent look. It was getting impossibly hard to maintain your composure.

"You mind if we take a break from studying? I can't learn anything with my dick this hard," he smirked, starting to unbutton his jeans. "What are you doing, Chris?" You asked, your eyes dropping to his cock as he took it out. "I just need to take care of it really quick. You don't have to stay if you don't want to watch," he peered up at you innocently as he started slowly teasing himself, but you stayed put.

You admired the way it beautifully stood straight up, the one rather intimidating-looking vein that traveled from the base of his shaft all the way to his tip, and the way the head was shiny with a layer of precum. It looked so pretty.

You watched Chris' ritual, the way he softly trailed his fingertips up his length. He began to stimulate the most sensitive spot, running his thumb over the pink, dome-shaped end. He let out a soft whimper and shivered in pleasure while he maintained eye contact with you.

You couldn't take look away. Your clit practically had its own heartbeat at this point. He knew how badly you wanted to put it in your mouth. It was written all over your face.

"Fuck, you're tough to crack," he whispered while he stroked his gorgeous cock. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know what it felt like. If you weren't going to make a move, he was.

"Please, mommy. Please put your mouth on it," he softly begged, his eyes and his voice drenched in desire.

Finally. You had him right where you wanted him.

"Good boy. All you had to do was ask nicely," you responded, pushing him back on the bed and crawling between his legs. He looked down at you wide-eyed, full of excitement and anticipation. He released his grip on his member, and you replaced it with your own. You felt his dick twitch against your palm.

"Tell me what you want, baby," you responded, taking your thumb and gently caressing the tip like you'd watched him do earlier. You could tell how much he loved it by the way he gasped and smiled at you while you did this.

"Please suck on it, mommy," he pleaded with you. You hovered just above his cock, nearly drooling at the idea of sucking on it, and you stuck out your tongue, just barely licking the slit where all his precum had pooled up. His eyes widened and he moaned, throwing his head back. So responsive.

The next time you went to kiss it, you wrapped your lips around his sensitive nerves and started gently suckling. "Wow," he whispered. It felt better than he could have ever imagined. His hands found their way to your head, and he started combing through your hair with his fingers while you stimulated him in the most incredible way.

You wrapped your lips around him again, taking the tip all the way into your mouth, and then you slid it down even further. While you bobbed up and down on his length, your tongue grazed that big, juicy vein on the backside of his cock, and he started whimpering even more as you let the tip of his cock tickle the back of your throat.

"Mommy, it feels so much better than when I touch myself," he smirked, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. He took in the sight of you, seductively looking up at him while your full, pink lips swallowed him. You slid back up and started paying attention to the head again while you stroked him. "Good boy," you winked at him. He moaned and shuddered back in response.

You absolutely adored the way Chris' nervous system reacted to every little touch, every caress, and every lick. You could get off just to the way he sounded, looked, and writhed beneath the feeling of your mouth.

He looked at you with a softer expression, one that told you he was nearing the tipping point. You decided to kick it up a notch, pumping back and forth faster while your mouth moved messily, drooling all over Chris' cock, a stark difference from the slow, controlled demeanor Chris had when playing with himself. But he fucking loved it. He was discovering just how much he loved receiving sloppy head.

"I'm getting close," he said urgently, half-expecting you to remove your mouth from his special place, but you only did long enough to mutter, "Good boy. Finish on my tongue." His eyes widened at the realization that you wanted to swallow his seed.

The feeling of your wet, velvet-like tongue dancing and swirling all over his tip had him in shambles. His body began to tremble, and he gripped the sheets beneath him until his knuckles started losing color, his hips bucking up, asking for permission to burrow deeper into your mouth.

"Mommy, you're gonna make me cum," he whined as his cock started twitching in your mouth. The knot in the pit of his stomach snapped while his toe-curling, earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm swallowed him whole before spitting him back out.

He could feel every sensation, from the way spurts of his thick, sticky load shot onto your tongue while you swallowed to the way the speed of his blood increased while it rushed through his veins.

Once his soul returned back to body, he was staring at you in a shocked and fully satisfied kind of way, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. "That was the best orgasm I've ever had, and I usually edge myself for like, a long time," he whispered, giggling.

"You did so good for me," you praised him, wiping your saliva mixed with his cum from the corner of your lip and imagining how hot Chris looked edging himself all alone in his bed.

"I love blow jobs," he smirked.

part two posted here 💖

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[inkskinned]

"your pet doesn't love you; it just has learned that it will get treats if it acts a certain way. it can't understand you."

in between humans, i don't always speak the language either. love has always been hard for me. i don't trust it. i can't read it easily on people's faces - i'm usually trying to read past it; to the "other parts", the ones that make sense to me.

but my mom always offers me food as soon as i get through the door. my brother calls me at weird hours, just to be talking. my sister has a nightmare; asks me to please drive safe in the morning. i throw my friends random parties, just to celebrate something. she drives 45 minutes to spend 3 hours with me. amelia holds my hand while we both cross the street.

no, my dog and i don't have the same language. so what? this is not the same thing as communication. my dog is a good study in how trauma can heal - a rescue from the racetrack; i've been watching his personality develop slowly. in the last year, he's gotten so comfortable with me that he'll ask me to sit down on the grass so he can use my body as a seat. (it's important to note: he is huge. he squishes me. i don't complain. i find it lovely.)

love for us is also just endorphins and behavioral response. i'm a poet, the number of sad men that have tried to "teach me" how stupid it is to be a hopeless romantic is ... not a low one. i cannot count how many times someone has argued - it's all chemical stimulus - as if the fact of it makes it less magical. we're just electrical signals reading the universe! that's fucked up. that's so beautiful.

i find it hard to believe that in the spectrum of evolution we are the only species to feel like this - we already know that dogs and cats also have endorphins. why wouldn't they experience joy? love? companionship? in what world is it a new thing that i had to earn it? in every relationship, both individuals have to work to learn the language. i had to teach my dog what trust is. it's okay that it took time for him to learn it.

in the human world, when i love someone, it's hard for me to speak it. i write them poems or make them food or give them a cool rock i found on the beach.

i don't know how to tell goblin i love him, so i tell him through treats. through a new collar, fancy mattresses, a little bow on his leash. i tell him with long walks and petting him and sitting down on the wet ground so my 70 pound sharp noodle of a dog can prance on my thigh bones and take an awkward - if loving - seat.

"you taught your dog to love you" is kind of a cruel way to reframe what actually happened: i loved him so loudly, it skipped over language and species. the two of us just saying - oh! i have figured out a way to tell you that you make me happy.

[mammonscheeks]

brothers reaction to mc with a long skincare routine

✎ warnings: the word blood

"Finally!" You grinned to yourself, hauling a large package on the HoL dining table. Inside were all of your favorite products; hair oils, body scrubs, perfumes, face washes, serums, and the like.

Since you had been summoned unexpectedly to the Devildom, you were forced to use the oddest local products; a facewash that burned your flesh, deodorant that smelled suspiciously like blood, and hair masks that were green and slimy.

As much as you loved Devildom culture, it was tough to find products that didn't harm your human skin and hair, even with Asmodeus's help. So you were glad when Barbatos personally cleared your package from the human world at Devildom customs, where it had been stuck under inspection for the past month.

Later that night while you were indulging in your products, a certain brother came to visit you in your room.

LUCIFER would probably sigh at the number of products you use. he watches you layer serum over serum on your face with a judgemental expression.

"this long of a routine is a waste of time and money, mc. you could be studying right now.

then you walk by him, sending a wave of the honey-scented body scrub you use in his direction. his resolve threatens to break as his face grows warm. thoughts of running his lips over your sugar- scented neck plague his mind. the next day, lucifer visits the human world to buy everything you use, so you never run out in the Devildom.

MAMMON initially comes to your room to see if you have any luxury items worth much. however, he curiously watches you as you go through your hair and skincare routine, and asks if he can try some products out. he's adorable, obviously excited to be involved in whatever you're doing, and not wanting to be left out.

"can you put that on me too, mc? oh, and that? what does this one do?"

before long, you and mammon are cuddling in bed and watching a movie, waiting for the pink glittery face mask on both of your faces to dry.

LEVIATHAN would be interested in the packaging of your skincare, especially if its those asian brands with anime and hello kitty packaging. he'd declare that he's going to buy skincare products with ruri-chan packaging! he probably won't ask to try your products, since Devildom products work better for him, but he wouldn't protest when you put something on him, just to get one of those stereotypical scenes from romance anime, where the protagonist leans in close and...

"MC, I know you're trying to put serum on my lashes, but y-you're too close!"

SATAN inspects the packaging and ingredients of your skincare, thinking back to his research in chemicals and potions classes. He suddenly cups your face, running his thumb over your soft skin.

"MC, why are you so flustered? I'm just trying to understand your skin composition."

the next day, he uses his knowledge in potions and with a list of the chemicals in your products, recreates all your products, so that you can get them for free.

"S-stop grinning like an idiot, MC. I just did this to expand my knowledge on human products, that's all."

he did it because he loves you

ASMODEUS is absolutely DELIGHTED that your package has come. he had helped you this past month, trying to find products that worked for you in the Devildom, but to no avail. he definitely uses popular human world products as well, but not nearly as much as you. he literally wants to do EVERYTHING with you that night, from showering together to skincare.

"MC, show me absolutely EVERYTHING you do, step by step! We can do our routines alongside each other!"

the two of you have so much fun comparing products and being beauty product nerds together. he promises to give you the angelic essence serum he smuggled from the celestial realm, but only if you get him that a tube of that korean sunscreen he's been eyeing.

"my beautiful angel MC! you're glowing!"

BEELZEBUB would try and eat your products. they just smell so good, like candy, honey, and flowers! after preventing him from gobbling them down in one bite, he curiously watches you. he probably wouldn't ask you to put any products on himself, but he wouldn't mind if you do. he provides emotional support while watching you, completely entranced with how your face glows after every step.

"MC, I know you wanted to put this face mask on me, but I keep licking it off..."

after you're done with your routine, expect a clingy beelzebub, who keeps nuzzling your neck and face for a sniff of the sugary products you use.

BELPHEGOR upon watching your routine begins to feel tired. He doesn't understand why humans (and Asmodeus) need to go through so much effort and products before going to bed. On top of that, humans have to be patient and wait between steps, so their skin absorbs the serums properly!

"I feel sleepy just watching how long your routine is, MC. Doesn't it take too much energy to do so much?"

In an effort to show him that skincare is relaxing, you lay him down in your bed and start running a gua sha on his face. In 5 seconds flat, he's passed out (snoring and everything), from the ice-cold sensation on his jaw as well as your soft hands on his face.

[ausetkmt]

Pharmacist Lunsford Richardson made Vicks a household name throughout the nation, but his popular product did not do the same for him.

Even in his native North Carolina, where his most celebrated of chemical concoctions has been right under our stuffy noses and on our congested chests for generations, the mention of Richardson’s name elicits blank stares from all but those who study and cherish history.

Richardson’s salve, Vicks VapoRub, helped the world breathe easier during the devastating influenza pandemic of 1918 and during the countless colds and flus of our childhoods, yet most of us couldn’t pick Lunsford Richardson out of a one-man police lineup, much less a who’s who of medical pioneers.

Why didn’t Richardson — by all accounts a creative inventor and smart businessman — ever become as famous as those vapors packed into the familiar squat blue jar?

Because his name wouldn’t fit on the jar.

That’s one version of the story. According to company and family lore, Richardson initially dubbed his promising new product Richardson’s Croup and Pneumonia Cure Salve. Realizing that this name didn’t exactly roll off the tongue nor fit when printed on a small medicine jar, Richardson changed the name to honor his brother-in-law, Dr. Joshua Vick. Another account suggests the inventive druggist plucked the name from a seed catalog he’d been perusing that listed the Vick Seed Co.

The truth may never be known. What is known, though, is that Lunsford Richardson created a medicinal marvel for the ages, the likes of which may never be equaled.

Croupy beginnings

A Johnston County native born in 1854, Richardson loved chemistry and hoped to study it at Davidson College. The college’s chemistry program at the time wasn’t as strong as he’d hoped it would be, so he studied Latin instead, graduating with honors in three years. He returned to Johnston County and taught school, but it wasn’t long before the young man’s love of chemistry got the best of him. In 1880, he moved to Selma to work with his physician brother-in-law, Dr. Vick. It was not uncommon in those days for doctors to dispense drugs themselves, but Vick was so busy seeing patients that he teamed up with Richardson, allowing him to handle the pharmacy duties for him. Richardson relied on his knowledge of Latin to help him learn the chemical compounds required to become a pharmacist, and that’s when he began to experiment with recipes for the product that would become Vicks VapoRub.

It wasn’t until Richardson moved to his wife’s hometown of Greensboro in 1890 that his magical salve and other products he created began to take off.

“He was a man of great intellect and talent,” says Linda Evans, community historian for the Greensboro Historical Museum, which has an exhibit devoted to Richardson and Vicks.

“Druggists at the time fashioned their own remedies a lot, and he created a number of remedies, in addition to his magic salve, that he sold under the name of Vick’s Family Remedies. He was obviously a man of such creativity.”

In Greensboro, working out of a downtown drugstore he purchased (where he once employed a teenaged William Sydney Porter, the future short story writer O. Henry), Richardson patented some 21 medicines. The wide variety of pills, liquids, ointments, and assorted other medicinal concoctions included the likes of Vick’s Chill Tonic, Vick’s Turtle Oil Liniment, Vick’s Little Liver Pills and Little Laxative Pills, Vick’s Tar Heel Sarsaparilla, Vick’s Yellow Pine Tar Cough Syrup, and Vick’s Grippe Knockers (aimed at knocking out la grippe, an old-timey phrase for the flu).

These products sold with varying degrees of success, but the best seller in the lineup of Richardson’s remedies was Vick’s Magic Croup Salve, which he introduced in 1894. And by all accounts, necessity was the key to its success.

“He had what they referred to as a croupy baby — a baby with a lot of coughing and congestion,” explains Richardson’s great-grandson, Britt Preyer of Greensboro. “So as a pharmacist, he began experimenting with menthols from Japan and some other ingredients, and he came up with this salve that really worked. That’s how it all started.”

Another version of the story suggests that all three of the Richardson children caught bad colds at the same time, and Richardson, dissatisfied with the traditional treatment of the day, which included poultices and a vapor lamp, spent hours at his pharmacy developing his own treatment.

Richardson’s salve — a strong-smelling ointment combining menthol, camphor, oil of eucalyptus, and several other oils, blended in a base of petroleum jelly — was a chest-soothing, cough-suppressing, head-clearing sensation. When the salve was rubbed on the patient’s chest, his or her body heat vaporized the menthol, releasing a wave of soothing, medicated vapors that the patient breathed directly into the lungs.

Vicks in the mailbox

In 1911, Richardson’s son Smith, by now a successful salesman for his father’s company, recommended discontinuing all of the company’s products except for Vick’s Magic Croup Salve. He believed the salve could sell even better if the company stopped investing time and money in the other, less successful remedies. He also suggested renaming the salve Vicks VapoRub, according to the company’s history timeline, to “help dramatize the product’s performance.” Richardson agreed, and a century later, the name’s still the same.

Meanwhile, Richardson intensified his marketing efforts by providing free goods to druggists who placed large orders and publishing coupons for free samples in newspapers. He also advertised on billboards and sent promotional mailings to post office boxes, addressed to Boxholder rather than the individual’s name, thus earning him the distinction of being the father of junk mail.

In 1925, Vicks even published a children’s book to help promote the product. The book told the story of two elves, Blix and Blee, who rescued a frazzled mother whose sick child refused to take nasty-tasting medicines. Their solution, of course, was the salve known as Vicks VapoRub.

Expanding and experimenting

As successful as the marketing campaign was, nothing sold Vicks VapoRub like the deadly Spanish flu outbreak that ravaged the nation in 1918 and 1919, killing hundreds of thousands of Americans. Loyal Vicks customers and new customers stocked up on the medicine to stave off or fight the disease.

According to the company’s history timeline, VapoRub sales skyrocketed from $900,000 to $2.9 million in a single year because of the pandemic. The Vicks plant in Greensboro operated around the clock, and salesmen were pulled off the road to help at the manufacturing facility in an effort to keep up with demand.

As the flu spread across the nation, Richardson grew ill with pneumonia in 1919 and died. Smith took over the company. Vicks continued to grow, buying other companies until Procter & Gamble bought it in the 1980s. Through the years, Vicks continued adding new products to its arsenal of cold remedies: cough drops, nose drops, inhalers, cough syrup, nasal spray, Formula 44, NyQuil. And whatever success those products attained, they got there standing on the broad shoulders of Richardson.

Richardson will never be a household name, but his salve has held that status for more than a century — and may do so for the next hundred years. And for Richardson, were he still around, that ought to be enough to clear his head.

A cure-all salve

Vicks users have claimed the salve can cure and heal many maladies. Even though Vicks doesn’t say the salve works for these problems, people still believe.

Toenail fungus: Rub the salve on your toenails, cover with socks, and sleep your fungus problems away. Cough: For a similar fix to a nagging cough, some believe rubbing Vicks on the soles of your feet can fix the problem. Dandruff: Rub Vicks directly on the scalp, and your flakes may just disappear. Chapped lips: Petroleum jelly is one of the ingredients in Vicks, and some say the ointment can help heal cracked lips. Mosquito bites: If you smooth Vicks on the red bumps on your legs and arms, it can supposedly take the itch right out. Warts: Dab Vicks on the wart, cover with duct tape, and it may fall off in a few days.

Greensboro Historical Museum 130 Summit Avenue Greensboro, N.C. 27401 (336) 373-2043 greensborohistory.org

See historical Vicks VapoRub bottles and learn about Lunsford Richardson.

[yannaryartside]

This is still all about Donna

The cyclical aspect of abuse ft Chef David

So, I wanted to add to the discussion why Carmy pursued the star so intensely, to the point of inflicting self-punishment and isolation. Why would he focus his whole identity on the evil chef after all those other beautiful experiences he also got to live?

I am going to talk on broad terms because I don’t have any studies in psychology, so you can take it all with a grain of salt; I am talking just from personal experience/instrospection. I am also not saying this applies to all victims of abuse or all types of abuse. I am talking mainly about domestic/psychological abuse.

WHY IT ALL STARTED

On the opening night, a particular set of chemicals created an explosion in Carmy's mind. He saw a man who resembled the chef who tortured him psychologically and abused him. So he goes back and starts a fight with Syd. She calms him down, but he feels lost and needs a pause, so he goes to the freezer but finds himself trapped. Then, the turmoil of flashbacks comes in of Donna and Chef David, while he thinks he failed his team and confirms the belief that he is indeed worthless, no good, and a waste of space. Donna installed this belief in Carmy, and Chef David revived it.

So he blames Claire, a relationship that (regardless of not being particularly deep or healthy) was bringing him happiness, and he decides to commit to the lie that he needs to sacrifice things that make him happy to be good (chef). At this point, Carmy has equated his worth as a human with his ability to produce a certain quality of work as a chef.

THE CYCLE

Maybe the most vile thing about abuse is its cyclical nature. If you have been abused, particularly since childhood, even if you manage to leave the environment where the abuse took place, there is a high chance you will end up in another abusive relationship/situation.

Abuse breaks your perception of self and the world around you; because of that, every relationship you have, or situation you establish will be defined by that broken perception.

Carmy grew up in an abusive household, believing there was something wrong with him that made his mother reject him and prefer his older brother. From what we can gather, none of Carmy's interests and personality traits were appreciated or encouraged in that house (besides cooking), so he was a child "terrified of speaking." He didn't have friends who could help him understand or accept himself; he missed that in very formative years. Michael (the brother he compared himself to) ended up being the real parental figure in his life (Michael divides himself between teasing him and encouraging him).

Carmy learns to love cooking because of his connection with Michael. Then Michael makes him feel rejected by casting him out. Carmy goes abroad and has really amazing experiences that allow him to know and accept himself. He gets to feel like a child again, finding and cultivating the things that he loves.

Then he finds a chef boss who is also abusive. Donna comes to life in the face of Chef David, and Carmy (who has become almost the best at this point and could have just left this place) accepts the abuse because he is afraid that both Donna and David are right, that there is something fundamentally wrong with him no matter how hard he tries.

So he goes into this season in freeze response, screaming at others because he can hear the evil chef in his head telling him how much of a waste of space he is; he needs to fight it, so he screams at everyone to have the same standard he has to obey or get killed. He is acting entirely out of fear that they are going to get him killed because they are “not perfect” or “too slow.” Because he can still feel the threat of the ghost of Chef David saying horrible things to him as he cooks. This is about self-preservation.

Also, isolation is a form of self-punishment, and he believes he needs to resolve this on his own.

THE CLAIRE PART-SELF PUNISHMENT

He tells himself that he cannot be with Claire because that is who he is and that he doesn't deserve such a good thing if it endangers the only thing that brings him value, cooking. He doesn't deserve this love that, for the first time, doesn't seem to require a big amount of sacrifice on his part. He spent most of the season reminiscent of that affection. He said she brought her peace, but I think he just meant she didn't feel worthless for once. It looks like not having girlfriends or friends (lack of meaningful connections that accept him for who he is) is a big source of insecurity for him.

The relationship was empty and superficial but was the best he had ever felt; Claire made him feel like there was nothing wrong with him, (to the point of being an enabler, yes), but it was still better for him than feeling rejected most of his life.

His most significant relationships (Mickey and Donna and sometimes Nat and Richie) were based on a push-and-pull mechanic that created an emotional distance, and he has spent most of his life trying to earn his mother's love, while he felt he didn't have to make an effort to earn Claire's love, even the most basic emotional responsibility (never apologize). The show even showed you that the relationship between Claire and Carmel would have happened if she hadn't done most of the work, emotional or otherwise.

Case in point: Sydney, a person with whom he has a lot in common, an unspoken telepathy, and a bond that can get him out of panic attacks (his previous unhealthy beliefs), is the person with whom he has the most trouble establishing a relationship because of the plot (based on his mental health), even after three seasons.

That was a lot, thank you for reading.

[himegureisu]

4 | the Woman

Summary: There are times when cases need a woman's touch. This is where you finally introduce yourself to your brother-in-law. This is set at the end of S2 E1 A Scandal in Belgravia.

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Female Reader

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“There are people we can get into this,” Mycroft said,

“I tested that theory for you. I let Sherlock Holmes try for six months,” she bragged, “Sherlock, dear, tell him what you uncovered through that x-ray of my phone,”

Irene Adler, professionally known as the Woman, a dominatrix of significant influence was obvious. Her only advantage was the fact she was playing against men.

Half a year, the Holmes men stumped at what to do. What a sight, however, it’s best to end their misery.

The Woman hands over her list of requests. However, that’s not going to happen, not on your watch.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Can’t I join in the fun?” you said.

Their eyes shifted as you entered the study in your battledress. Her exchange pauses as you stand behind Mycroft. Your brother-in-law quietly observes and thinks by the fireplace. His head towards the three of you.

“I did hope Sherlock would get this one,” you sighed, as you stretched your hand out to Irene, “May I?”

“Be my guest,” she offered.

“You’re rather transparent,” you twirl the mobile in your hands, “You don’t need a genius to unlock this. Just a woman that understands her kind,”

“Oh, do go on,” she stands, to sit on the edge of the table.

“There are times when women are affected by their interests. Others would say this is a disadvantage. Yours are the Holmes men, specifically, Sherlock. There was no other way to get to Sherlock without committing a crime except in your profession, you could pursue a different avenue,” Your eyes rest on Mycroft as they start to figure it out, “Two birds in one stone. Agitate the older brother, you get the younger. Women play a different kind of dirty and you played a game against men that was your advantage. God, did you pull their strings well but that ends tonight. The psychology of women, gentlemen, is that the most obvious is sometimes the most overlooked,”

“Craving the distraction of the game I sympathize entirely but sentiment?” Sherlock stands, walks over, and reaches out to you for the phone which you finally hand over, “Sentiment is a chemical element found on the losing side,”

Oh, Sherlock how wrong you are on that. Love and sentiment can be an advantage.

“When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait,” Sherlock mused, facing the Woman, “How true of you. The combination to your safe, your measurements, but this is far more intimate. This is your heart, and you should never let it rule your head.”

“You just couldn’t resist, could you?” you interjected.

“Everything I said, it wasn’t real,” she whispered, silently pleading to Sherlock, “I was just playing the game,”

“This is just losing,”

I AM SHER LOCKED

“Thank you for the additional information,” he addressed you, “It was enlightening,”

“There you are, brother,” he passes the device to Mycroft, “I hope the contents may make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight,”

“I’m certain they will,” Mycroft assured. His brother started to stare out the window, “If you’re feeling kind, lock her up otherwise let her go,”

Willaim Sherlock Scott Holmes was nearly outsmarted by a woman. What a brilliant turn of events.

It wasn’t long until someone escorted the woman away leaving you to the Holmes men.

“I thought he wouldn’t get it,” you address Mycroft, sitting on the chair he previously occupied to observe Sherlock, “Then again if he knew where to look for the safe code, he would get it eventually,”

“Why are you here?” Mycroft said. You give a look and say, “You know why I’m here,”

“Who are you?” Sherlock asks.

“Do make a deduction, Mr. Holmes,” you challenged, standing up for a better view, “What can you say about me? Oh, I heard you’re quite good at this,”

His eyes quickly take a once over you. To the way you did your hair, makeup, and casual clothes. His brother, your husband, hovered on the other side of the table.

What will Sherlock say about you?

“On your dominant hand, your middle finger is calloused from how you hold your pen, suggesting office worker. In a high position, by the value of your shoes. Your makeup suggests you like to be presentable but not elaborate or gaudy. Your clothes are clean except for a few loose strands of hair. No pets. Your engagement and wedding rings, shiny and clean, happily married then. Your husband is successful in his career by the size of that diamond and…”

His ramble paused. His eyes meeting yours, you give a casual curious gaze. His senses were on overdrive, recognizing the particular scent of leather of a car that often escorted him to his brother.

“No, that’s not possible,” Sherlock withdrew, “Has my brother found himself a goldfish?”

“No, not a goldfish, brother mine,” Mycroft defends. His ring, matching yours, shines in the firelight, “No, she’s out of their league,”

“How long has that taken him?” you asked Mycroft, in front of you as Sherlock remained speechless, “A minute,”

“A good minute, yes,” he confirms, as he goes to stand by your side, “I do wonder why you decided to reveal yourself, my dear,”

“I was fed up. You two dancing in her tune for half the year,” you complained, “You ditched Christmas Morning traditions,”

“I promised to make it up to you, my dear,” Mycroft reminded, however, unable to act on his plans yet, “And I did return earlier than expected,”

“Six years, Myc! We never shirk on trad —”

Before you can finish your ramble, Mycroft leans in and presses his lips against yours in a tender kiss. It was a pleasant interruption.

One Sherlock didn’t appreciate.

Your eyes widen for a moment before you melt against him. Your arms wrap around his waist, returning the sentiment. Sherlock clears his throat, breaking the moment between you and Mycroft.

“Years?” he remarked, “I never knew the Iceman could melt,”

“No, just thaws from time to time,” you cheekily smile at Mycroft who rolled his eyes, “Are you two finished? I’d like to turn in before the sun comes out, ensures at least one of us gets sleep,”

“We are finished,” Mycroft affirmed, walking toward the door, “Do us a reprieve, brother mine, don’t take cases on the weekend. You don’t know what it does to our schedule,”

“It was nice meeting you, brother-in-law,” you teased, your smile caught him off guard, as you walked to Mycroft’s side. He didn’t remember the last time someone was pleased to meet him. They were often annoyed or irritated. “Have a good evening,”

His brother has been married for years, and he didn’t know. How could he not know?

“Shame I’d wanted to see the Woman in cuffs,” you comment, as you walk side by side through the halls, “It would have made for an interesting night,”

“Would you like that, my dear?” Mycroft asks.

“If you’re open to it,”

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[dr0wning-in-hell]

Awkward Situation- Alex Summers

Summary: You had originally gone to Alex's room for some help on some homework but finds herself in a completely different situation.

Word Count: 3.3k+

Warnings: smutttt, cursing, p-in-v, oral (m), throat fucking, fingering, sexy talkkkkk, fluff

Pairing/Characters: Alex Summers x mutant!reader

Prompt: "Hello there unlucky angel! I just read one of your X men works and wanted to make a request! Could I plz have an Alex Summers x Reader with the prompt - 88. “Did you just… finish?” (Also could you put it under the alex summers x reader tag plz?) TYSM!!!😍" - anon / “ if you still are writing for alex summers, could you do one using prompts: 88, 90, and 96 “- anon (90- “Get on your knees. Now.” 96-  “Do you know how bad I want you?”)

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I know I say that a lot but life is busy. I figured combining these two requests would help speed things up a bit. I feel like my boy Alex should’ve gotten more screen time:( anyways hope you enjoy you horny bastards.

new masterlist| prompt list | buy me a ko-fi!!

Y/N and Alex had a weird relationship. One minute they’re flirting up a storm, the sexual tension is high and you’d think that they’re gonna fuck right then and there, and the next minute it’s so awkward you just want to gauge your eyes out. That’s how it had been between the two since they arrived at the school for mutants. 

Y/N had never been afraid of Alex, unlike the rest of the new comers who thought his power was overly destructive, she never felt that way. His plasma beams were terrifying if you didn’t understand them, but Y/N understood them just fine. Her own mutant abilities included her being able to absorb radiation, whether chemical or something like Alex’s plasma beams, which made it easy for the two of them to start their friendship. 

Alex had certain feelings for Y/N since the day they met, but never wanted to tell anyone or even her just incase she didn’t feel the same way or a rumor started and embarrassed both of them. He’d spend his days thinking about what it would be like if she were his, what dates he could plan for the two of them, what their first kiss would be like. Alex was head over heels for this girl but was too scared to say anything. The boy would watch her from his window as she sat outside in the courtyard with her friends, studying and laughing. He like to watch her laugh, the way she smiled. It made his heart warm and fuzzy. 

Y/N was the same way, watching him outside with his brother or Hank, whether it was just him taking a leisurely walk or training, she was watching him. Obviously neither one of them knew that the other was watching, there were to oblivious to the fact that they both held feelings for one another. With as much tension that the two held between them, you’d think at least one of them would catch on eventually. 

That was not the case though. 

It wasn’t until one evening that Y/N had decided she wanted to spend some time to herself, read a book and chill in her room. The only catch was that the book she wanted to read was currently in Alex’s room since she had let him borrow it. Did he ever actually read it? No, it was just an excuse to see her. 

Putting on her fuzzy slippers, Y/N slipped out of her room and walked the hallways till she reached Alex’s room. Since he wasn’t a student, but not entirely a teacher either, he had his own room on the same level as most of the older students. As Y/N went to knock on his door she heard strange noises coming from inside the room, it sounded like moaning maybe? She wasn’t quite sure, but if that’s what it was then she didn’t want to interrupt, that would be extremely awkward. Y/N was about to walk away, give her friend his privacy, but when she heard him moan her name? She stopped dead in her tracks and couldn’t help but listen. He must’ve just been finishing from the sounds of it, which is why when she tripped over own two feet and made so much noise had he ended up opening the door.

Alex stood there, covered in a small coat of sweat, breathing heavily with his hair stuck to his skin. Before Y/N even realized what she was saying, the words were already coming out of her mouth. “Did you just... finish?” Not only were her cheeks burning from that question coming out so quickly, but she felt hot all over with a racing heartbeat, it felt like she had just run a mile. Just as Y/N was about to walk away and end this awkward situation until she felt Alex’s hand grab her wrist and pull her into his room. It smelled of stale air and just slightly of cologne. 

“How much did you hear?” He sounded out of breathe and a little worried. 

Y/N gulped slowly as her brain rushed with an excuse to make it seem like she hadn’t just heard him moan her name as he was jerking off. “I- uhm, I heard enough.” She refused to look him in the eyes now, it was just too weird. They were best friends.

Best friends who both had feelings for the other but was too scared to admit it.

“You’re lying.” Alex had now backed her up against the door. When did he even close that? Y/N’s back pressed against the door, Alex looming a little too close for the situation at hand. He wanted her to admit that she had heard him, that she heard him say her name. “Do you know how bad I want you?” His lips felt like they were just centimeters away from hers, she could practically taste him already. 

Y/N’s breathe hitched in her throat as she tried to make sense of what she just heard. She wasn’t hallucinating, was she? Alex really did just say that? Without another thought Y/N pushed herself off the door just enough to press her lips to his, finally connecting the two of them in a way that they had only dreamt of. Alex didn’t hesitate to pull her closer to him, his hands finding purchase on her lower back as he kissed her back. Their lips melded together, like they knew that’s where they were supposed to end up all along.

The kiss heated up quickly, their tongues dancing with the other as they explored the other’s mouth. Alex could taste her tea that she drinks at night, a bit of honey mixed in, while she could taste his cinnamon gum he had chewed on after dinner. It felt like forever before they had pulled away from each other, panting softly as they tried to compose themselves. 

Alex couldn’t help but move uncomfortably as he held Y/N, his hard on pressing firmly against Y/N’s thigh through his jeans. “Get on your knees. Now.” She did so without any question, falling to her knees in front of him with big doe eyes looking back up at him. She watched as he roughly pulled his sweatpants down, his boxers following shortly after. Y/N’s mouth went dry as she took in the size of his length. He was long and veiny, with a good few inches for girth. Alex watched with lidded eyes as Y/N moved her hands to his length, a bit of hesitancy lingering in her thoughts.

“Can I touch it?” Y/N didn’t dare to look up at Alex, she felt like a virgin seeing a dick for the first time again. The boy chuckled above her and nodded. Slowly Y/N wrapped her hands around his cock, using both of them to create friction against his aching length. She watched as pre-cum began to build up at the tip, to which she moved the pads of her thumb over the tip and rubbed it across the slit. Alex sucked in a breathe at the sensation, every fiber of his body going rigid as he let her play with his dick. After a moment of teasing him she got the the good stuff, moving her head forward and sucking the tip into her mouth and then ever so slowly inching it down her throat.

Alex felt like he was going to bust just at that alone, the feeling of her soft lips, her warm tongue lapping at the underside of his cock? It was an experience he never wanted to end. Though he wanted to start bucking his hips at his own pace, her throat like a fuck toy, he knew he couldn’t do that to her... yet. Y/N looked up at him through her lashes, eyes big as her mouth and throat were now completely stuff with his cock. She watched as his eyebrows knitted together once she started moving her head up and down, her tongue running against the underside of his cock and then to the tip when she’d come back up. Alex couldn’t help but thread his hands through her hair and help guide her movements, though it seemed as if she knew exactly what to do to get him to fall apart.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Alex grunted with his head tipping back in pleasure. He could feel her grin against his crotch, ever so pleased with being able to make the boy above her fall apart so quickly. His hips began to move on their own accord, thrusting in unison to match with her head bobbing up and down. She liked where she was at, seated underneath him and turning him to putty in her hands. Once she realized he was holding back she moved one of her hands onto his, squeezing it as a sign of trying to tell him to use her like he was wanting to. 

When Alex didn’t get the hint she took into her own hands and shoved his cock all the way down her throat, gagging slightly but not letting it stop her from holding him in place. That’s when he realized what she was saying without actually saying it. Finally letting himself go he thrusted rapidly into her mouth, his tip pushing past the back of her mouth every time. In no time he had her drooling and gurgling around his cock, face fucked with red cheeks and teary eyes. It was truly a magnificent sight, seeing the girl he had been dreaming about forever sitting prettily on her knees for him. 

Y/N let him use her face, her stomach tightening knowing that he was getting off on this and so was she. Her pussy constricted against nothing, the occasional rub of her panties and sleepwear against her clit causing her to moan against Alex’s cock. She desperately needed friction, anything to relieve the building ache in her core. Reaching between her thighs she pressed two fingers against her clothed clit, rubbing in tight circles to feel that spark of tension finally released. The moan she had let out caused Alex to look down at where her hand was at, the sight causing him to cum in her mouth without any warning. Y/N gagged at first, a bit surprised but then let the salty fluid fall onto her tongue. 

When Alex was done cumming down her throat he pulled out of her mouth and watched as she stuck her tongue out to show it to him, then pull the muscle back into her mouth swallow it, then show him her now empty mouth. Alex was hard again in no time, rushing to pull Y/N to her feet and ripping her sleepwear off of her. It didn’t take long for them both to be completely bare in front of each other, their bodies hot and covered in a thin layer of sweat. 

“Need to be in you, gonna fuck you so dumb you can’t even remember your own name.” Alex watched her legs rub together at his words, smirking to himself knowing that she need to feel him against her in any way possible. Without having to be instructed Y/N went and laid on the bed, sprawling herself in the sexiest way possible. If Alex wasn’t riled up already, he sure was now. “Think you need to be prepped a bit first, don’t want you hurting.” 

Alex moved between her legs, spreading them impossibly wide to get a look at the pussy presented to him. She was glistening, her slick nearly dripping down her hold and to the sheets. Alex rubbed her clit first, creating some stimulation before he inserted his pointer finger to get her started. 

The initial feeling of him touching her in her most private area had her eyes closing tightly, her hole clenching aimlessly. The feeling of his finger being inserted into her was already making her head fuzzy, her body accepting the intrusion quickly. Alex started with slow thrusts of his finger, making sure he felt every inch of her velvety walls. After a a minute or so of getting her used to one finger he added a second finger, watching her closely to make sure she wasn’t in any pain.

Y/N moaned a bit too loudly, instantly silencing herself by biting the inside of her cheek. Alex looked up to see her struggling to keep herself quiet. “So loud already, wonder what you’ll sound like with my cock in you.” Everything Alex was saying was making Y/N wetter by the second, surely dripping onto his sheets by now. Alex moved his fingers skillfully, scissoring them to stretch her opening as much as possible. 

“Alex please,” Y/N whimpered, “I can take it.” Could she really? She was about to find out. The blonde looked up at her, eyebrows raised at her.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or feel any pain.” Y/N let out a quick squeak of a ‘yes’ before she began to frantically nod her head. Alex chuckled before reaching into his side table drawers and scavenging for a condom. Once his fingertips brushed the plastic packaging he pulled it out and began to open it. Y/N waited patiently, though she was ready to pounce on him at any second from the anticipation, she didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

Alex moved himself back between her legs, being sure to run his hands up her thighs just to tease her more than he already was. She let out a whine of protest when he caressed her skin, her hips moving forwards as she tried to find any sort of friction or relief.

“Let me know if you feel any pain, okay?” Alex was slowly stroking himself as he nudged the tip against her opening, her juices instantly soaking the condom as he began to push into her. The gasp they both let out as they felt one another for the first time was a feeling neither of them wanted to end. Alex pushed more of himself into Y/N’s cunt, watching as she swallowed all of him up so easily. His eyes shut for a moment as he tried to calm his breathing, feeling as if he would bust the second he started to move. 

Letting out a shaky breathe he began to slowly move his hips, creating a steady pace to start out with. His hands were grasping Y/N’s hips, using them as leverage to thrust himself into her.

“Can- can you go faster?” Y/N gasped, her mouth hanging in a small ‘o’ shape as he body already began to shake. “Please, want you to go faster.” She looked up at the blonde with her pupils blown wide. The sight made his heart skip a beat, but his brain had no problem with working faster than he could comprehend. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her hips as he began to pound himself into her faster. 

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from letting out such a loud moan, her hands going down and grasping Alex’s wrists in pleasure. The faster pace had caused him to bury himself even deeper into her, hitting places inside her she didn’t know someone could touch. Alex grunted as he watched how blissed out the girl beneath him was. He was still in a bit of shock that he was fucking the girl he’s loved for so long now, it was like a dream and never wanted to wake up from it. 

Alex moved himself a bit, getting closer to Y/N as he pushed her knees to her chest and practically folded her in half. His cock was nestled deep inside her, still and throbbing against her velvety walls. “You feel so good,” Alex panted as he leaned down to kiss Y/N, their skin sticking together as they molded together. “Just wanna stay inside you forever,” He grunted as he began his brutal pace again, now putting more weight down on her body as he continuously slammed his hips against her ass cheeks. 

Y/N’s hands went from his wrists then up his arms, groping his biceps before they fell to her knees as she held her hands on top of his. Alex managed to intertwine his fingers with hers, holding her hands tightly as he moved in and out of her clenching walls. He felt so deep inside her she swore she was just going to be ripped in half by him. Not only was his cock brushing against that spongey spot inside her, but the sheer weight of him pressing on top of her body made her melt into the bed. 

Alex’s thrusts grew in speed as the two mutants began to reach their climaxes, their bodies covered in sweat with small beads falling onto the bedding and soaking the sheets in more ways than one. He watched the way Y/N’s face scrunched up with each thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock pushing itself against her cervix in the most painfully delicious way possible.

“Alex,” Y/N whined, her nails digging into the flesh of his hand, “I think I’m gonna cum,” Her little whines and gasps spurred Alex on, though he felt like he was about to cum as well, he wanted her to cum first. 

As if it were even possible, Alex pushed himself so incredibly deep into Y/N’s soaking pussy, his balls nestled nicely against her ass cheeks. The feeling of him so deep inside of her and twitching with every movement was the final straw for Y/N. She came undone on his dick, her hips jerking slightly as she clawed at his hands. It didn’t take too long before Alex was cumming into the condom, the feeling of Y/N’s walls clenching so tightly around his cock had him nearing his end as well.

Alex leaned down, wrapping Y/N’s legs around his torso as he pressed his body against hers. HIs forehead stuck to her skin, his hair a mess as it clung to him. The pair breathed heavily, relishing in the final moments of their ecstasy. He placed a soft kiss against her lips before he pulled himself away, gently easing his cock out of her abused cunt and discarding the condom into the trash bin. 

“That was unexpected.” Y/N finally said once the cloudiness had left her brain and Alex was laid next to her. He chuckled at her but nodded. “It was really good though, like really good.” Y/N chuckled to herself as Alex rolled his eyes playfully at her not so over exaggeration.  

Alex pulled the girl against his side, tucking her head under his chin softly. “I hope you know I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want to take you out on a proper date and treat you the way you deserve to be treated.” Alex was starting to nervously ramble, so to ease his nerves Y/N kissed him softly. Luckily, it shut him up.

“I’d love to go on a date later on, but right now I just wanna cuddle.” She snuggled back into his side, her hands laying against his chest. Alex smiled to himself, his arms falling around her body as he held her. 

If this was a dream he never wanted to wake up.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Can we get a teaser of the feyd fic

It is almost complete, minor details are subject to change. Here is the scene mentioned in the summary:

Feyd Fantasy Part II <Excerpt>

The Barons Favorite

The Baron speaks with his advisors in the morning about the upcoming gladiatorial fights around the massive table in the meeting hall. When the assembly concludes he uses his hover suit to bring the men of court to watch Feyd in combat training.

Part Two Complete✍🏼

He is proud of the accomplishments of his nephew Feyd, he is the Barons favorite over his older brother Glossu Rabban Harkonnen.

After making several public embarrassments to the family name the Baron had Feyds brother Rabban shipped to Arrakis. He gives him one last chance to prove his worth controlling their families most lucrative venture, harvesting spice.

Though ominous and foreboding the Baron is an obesely over weight man. He can no longer walk without the assistance of integrated technology to reduce the burden of his weight. His hover suit is implanted into his spine with thick tubes connected on two small orbs. The orbs float behind him carrying the chemicals which enable him to defy gravity.

They arrive to the second story of the courtyard in Feyds quarters. When the men gather looking down into the training pit on the first floor it is deserted. A low murmur begins between his advisors as to the where abouts of Feyd. Always eager to show off his knife skills Feyds absence is jarring.

The Baron immediately hovers to Feyds chambers and finds them empty as well. Feyds male Page appears at the entrance hearing the commotion.

“Well where is he?” The Baron snaps “You are to be at his side at all times have you forgotten your purpose”The Baron is fuming at the Pages insolence.

The Page trembles knowing the truth and averts his eyes from the Barons sinister Gaze “Spit it out or I cut it out” the Baron says coldly. He hovers into the young man’s personal space. The Page knows both men will readily slit his throat.

He divulges enough not to be dispatched by either “He and his lady are in the great halls of the fortress. I’m not sure where but he wanted to show her the grandeur of Geidi Prime” the Baron squints in anger how idiotic at a time like this with so much at stake to impress his new bride. His scowl deepens because Feyd above all neglected his training. For that he will be heavily punished.

The Great Meeting Hall

After touring your fifth great hall with Feyd it is readily apparent his family has amassed a great fortune with power and control over the populous of Geidi Prime.

He pushes open the large black inscribed doors of the meeting hall. There are thrones at opposite ends raised on platforms with stairs. The high floor to ceiling windows display the industrial city scape and a grand table that can seat fifty people occupies the majority of the floor space. Everything is void of color, only stone marble, black and granite can be seen in the gigantic area.

You walk over to the throne on your left “is this one yours?” Your voice echos in the large hall. Feyd nods, his hands are clasped behind his back. He follows you around the room as you study the furniture and the giant painting of his uncle and then of himself. There is a portait of a third Harkonnen male next to Feyds but he interrupts your thoughts before you can ask the identity.

“This is where the most important decisions are made on Geidi Prime, as well as another secret room with the cones of silence” he adds.

“What are cones of silence? “ you ask. The words are somewhat familiar to you.

“They are able to mute all sounds around them, only the two inside can hear each other.” He answers as he imagines himself fucking you inside of one until he makes you scream in pleasure as loud as he possibly can. He stops walking and stands behind you.

You've paused to study something that caught your eye. His eyes wander your form up to the beauty of your side profile. He can’t help himself as his hand trails down your shoulder. “Do these things in impress you?” He asks. You finally look over your shoulder at him.

You had been mesmerized studying an ancient Harkonnen sword on display. It is carved with hieroglyphs that date back centuries. It represents how his entire culture revolves around war and greed . “Yes ” you say addressing his question to be kind. You turn back to looking at the sword again. Inside you are deeply longing for your home world.

You remember the beautiful gardens, waterfalls, flowers, and colors of life. You especially miss the large atrium where you would read for hours basking in the afternoon sunlight. The warm rays would kiss your skin as it filtered through the glass dome.

Laying on a spacious out door ottoman with your fellow Bene Gesserit sisters honing your skills in the palatial gardens seemed like a dream now.

Feyd sees you lost deep in thought and softly grabs your chin “What would impress you more” he asks with intent. He knows you aren’t fond of the ways on Geidi Prime. You don’t have an answer so you remain quiet.

He knows one thing he has that impresses you on end. He gently pulls you into a kiss. His bottom lip rubs softly with yours as his warm tongue fills your mouth.

He ignites your passions and you place your hands on his jaw. You lean your head with his as you kiss him in return. You want to focus on the carnal and forget your distant memories. He presses himself against you and the heat of his body claims you.

He turns you walking back as he kisses your lips until you are met against the grand meeting hall table. He sits on the edge and moves to the center. He rests back on his heels beckoning you to come.

You climb onto the edge and crawl to him. Now both in the center he holds your jaw and pulls you close. His lips find yours again hungrier than before.

You feel his teeth bite into your lower lip and tug. It arouses you and he releases your lip to do again. Then he envelops his mouth completely onto yours. You feel the hardness of his cock as he presses it into your thigh.

He wants to defile you on this table. He smirks at the high disrespect to the Harkonnen dynasty he is about to commit. Soon this will all belong to him so what does it matter. He pushes you back to lie flat against the stone slab. You gaze up above him to the metallic barbs of the chandelier until his face obstructs your view.

His hands start at your knees grabbing the hem of your gown sliding it up to your hips.

His hands clutch one side of your panties tearing them apart making you gasp. He tears the other side and rips them clean from your body.

You watch as he sits back on his heels between your parted legs. He unhooks the clasp of his pants and pulls his thick veiny cock out. The contrast of the black fabric against his large hardened pale cock is striking.

His slaps his pink tip on your clit to edge you.

You flinch at each tap as it makes your bundle of nerves jump. He slides his hand down your thigh to meet your hip and holds you steady. He lines himself up and thrusts into you so roughly you have no time to adjust to the feeling.

Your vision goes hazy as your back arcs from the table. His penetration shocked you senseless. His large cock expands parts of you that you never knew existed. He watches how your face changes from pain to pleasure and back again as you try and relax around the girth of his size.

He wants to spur you on and leans down pressing his chest to yours. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck titling your head so he can speak softly into your ear.

”You are so beautiful to me” he says as his eyes study your side profile. He traces his thumb on your lower lip as you pant for him. “So desperate for my cock, the way you’d let me fuck you on this table you’d let me do anything to you” a moan escapes your lips as he shushes you “Just lay still and look pretty while I fuck you until you stretch open for me” you moan louder at his words.

He begins to roughly thrust inside of you like he wants to posses you. His cock hits your core at a dangerous pace. Your breasts bounce with every push of his hips. He is already becoming lost in pleasure grunting above you. He loves the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his throbbing cock.

You arc your back down flat to brace yourself against his rutting. “You…feel too good on my cock” he rasps out as he finally hits the thrust that stretches you around his size. He stares down into your eyes completely transfixed by the physical connection between your bodies.

Unbeknownst to you both the Baron has finally narrowed his search. After spying into several halls down the corridor his servants waves him over finally finding the one you are in. The Baron peeks through the discreet opening made by one of the nimble servants. There on the middle of the table in the grand meeting hall he sees Feyd fucking you ruthlessly.

Your are constantly being pounded into the stone slab table by his strength. His hips begin slapping harder against you as he thrust between your legs. You hold out until the familiar tightening in your abdomen begins. Your moans start to fill the air.

As your walls clench around him it makes his cock feel incredible inside of you. Your eyes stare up at him, pleading and begging for release.

He sees the neediness in your eyes and brings his hand between your bodies touching your clit. His finger tips are wet by your arousal and he slicks them expertly in firm circles around your bundle of nerves.

It sends shocks though your core that radiate your entire body “YES please Feyd just like that“. You are unable to string together another sentence as you orgasm. He strums your clit as hard as he can with his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

His mouth opens when he feels the pleasurable sensation of your walls milking his cock from the orgasm. He pins your wrists next to your head and plows into you even harder his release is immediate. His pace falters as he orgasms. You both moan as he paints rope after rope of his hot cum into your cervix.

He rests down on his elbows laying his full weight on you panting. He kisses your lips passionately with his final slow thrusts. His breath shudders into your mouth as he feels his cock empty inside of you.

He plants soft kisses around your face as he comes down. Each one more tender and loving than the last. His heart feels revived when he’s with you. He cradles your head in his hands staring deeply into your eyes. You smile at him and he smiles back, this time it isn’t like his sinister ones before, this one is radiant you see the kindness return in his eyes.

His uncle spying on the entire moment becomes enraged : not at the fact Feyd missed training, not at the fact he satisfied his carnal urges on the sacred meeting hall table, but at the fact Feyd put a woman’s pleasure before his own. The Baron turns away in disgust his patience is severed.

He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now he sees every aspect of brutally he instilled in Feyd quickly being stripped away by a female. He never thought this was possible.

He is resolute in his decision to regain control. He will take out two problems with one swift action: Punishing Feyd by having you removed from his presence entirely.

[Sneak Peek: Full fic in finalization]

.⚔️ Fic Tag list: @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @hardcoredisneynerd @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh

[merakiui]

you've done it again Mera!!! I just finished reading 'chemic.', and I am now hooked once again for another flavor of Floyd orz

he's just so silly with his flirting attempts and chemical comparisons, I need to bully him (in bed) so bad aaaa!!! the urge to put him in a jar and shake him until he confesses to his shrimpy!!!!

once he'd drank the first potion, I very much expected an aphrodisiac, and of course you did not disappoint (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) I can just picture him, doubled over, trying to keep himself from moaning too loud or fucking into your hand because he doesn't want to look lame even though he desperately wants to, he's so!!!!! what a creature,,,

and the ending was so cute,,, go for it Floyd!!! Jade may be an asshole who definitely deserves his teeth knocked out, but you shrimpy has no reason to refuse!!!

all of this to say... I need more nerdy Floyb wearing glasses in my life because you've gotten me hooked, thank you for yet another most delicious meal 💙💙💙

-🦈

AAAAA 🦈!!!!!! THANK YOUUUU!!! Floyd is such a nerd!! I adore him and his silly chemistry flirts!! Even though it wasn't described in the fic, in the beginning scene where Reader speculates whether he's doodling or simply fooling around with the equipment,,,, Floyb was actually drawing Punnett squares trying to figure out what traits his and Reader's potential children would inherit more of. >:) one day Reader will find his alchemy notes and see all of the squares. If love umbrellas exist within the sphere of shoujo, then Floyd's version of that is the beloved Punnett square.

I also want to put him in a jar and shake him around,,, study him under a microscope. Silly, nerdy Floyb. (〃´𓎟`〃)

BUT YES!!! The aphrodisiac scene where darling is so clinical and disinterested all while Floyd's drooling and trying so hard to Be Normal about a handjob. Oh, he's so desperate. >_< he wants to fuck into your hand so badly, but he also wants to look cool in front of Shrimpy!

After the revelations that book 7 brought, I now have even more reason to write Jade being catty towards his brother. As much of an ass as he can be, Jade means well and does support the Shrimpy x Floyd ship. But he's still going to be a tease. <3 it's how he shows his love in his own Jade way.

I'm happy you could feast upon nerdy Floyd meal!!!! The idea of both eels needing glasses (or contacts) because of their bad eyesight has me in a chokehold... I want to write lots about Floyb in glasses hehe.

[lunas-side-anime-blog]

Modern College Student/Gf Mikasa Ackerman Headcanons

Armin Version: Here Eren Version: Here

scary goth girl that everyone is too scared to talk to but secretly crushes on

psychology major bc I think she had a tough childhood and wants to better understand trauma / help others

somwhere in the middle between Armin and Erin when it comes to academics

like I don't think she is as intense about grades as Armin is, but I also don't think she's as laidback about school as Eren

moderately studies throughout the week, but it's just basic note taking and chapter reading, i don't think she's afraid to miss a few classes though if she feels like it

only really crams and does all-nighters right before an exam if she thinks she needs it

i think she wears men cologne and deodorant and it fits her soo well, idk how to describe it but she smells powerful but comforting at the same time?

maybe like woodsy with strong notes of vanilla and cashmere

loves a black cold brew: no creamer, foam or sugar like she's so intense that way

i think she's that one cool girl who always walks into class like a few minutes late with a hot resting bitch face, AirPods in and a cold brew in hand

tall girl and I think her height is prob her fave feature about herself, like I can see her wearing more heeled boots or platforms to exaggerate it

wears lots of black and hardly any makeup besides some light eyeliner most days

doesn't talk alot unless she fr knows you, i think most people would just hear her say "here" for attendenace and that's it

doesn't go to parties unless she has to

I think think she'll only go to watch eren and armin. she knows eren loves to go overboard and armin will most likely get distracted so she takes it upon herself to be the sober one watching everyone's drinks

def a girls girl like if she sees another female in an uncomfortable situation shes jumping in, no questions asked

i can see her working out with eren so in my mind shes ripped too and yeah...most guys don't fuck with her

has a cute lil skincare routine, only has like a three step process tho since I think she has naturally good skin

she secretly loves facemasks tho and doing her nails with armin as rewards for studying lol

I think out of the main three mikasa would have the most instagram followers, which is so funny bc she doesn't know why she's so popular?

I just think her aesthetic and vibe is very cool, if her account is set to public she would quickly get a lil following

lots of secret admires with this one, men and woman alike

I can see her being BI or Pan too so like that's very conveient

other than armin and eren, I think Mikasa would be besties with Yimir and Sasha

i can see them going to concerts together, shopping, late night drives, getting food (at sasha's demand lol) like i think they'd be a chill lil trio

views eren and armin as brother figures btw, gets grossed out when people ask if shes dating them

obviously a very protective friend

the type of freind whose like "what's their name" when you tell her you're seeing someone new and within an hour Mikasa will have an entire report on where they went to school, all their exes, hobbies, pets, address, ect.

I can see her getting a masters tbh, I def think armin would talk her into it so I think they would be grad school buddies while eren finishes his BA (he'll lag behind them a year or two since he changed his major so much anyway)

Loves cats and I think she'd have one or two if armin and eren are cool with it

I think she would have a few tatooes and piercings, but very subtle ones she can hide since I think as a psychologist she'd want to be taken seriously

music taste is kinda stuck in middle school tbh, still loves my chemical romance with a passion

I don't think she'd smoke weed or drink

^^ not that she has anything against it but i think she just hates the feeling of not being in complete control of herself so she stays away from things like that

never gets sick? it's actually medically fascinating

Overall she's that one quiet girl in class who looks scary but is a sweethear and everyon'es dying to be friends with

As your GF

omg I think she'd be the best significant other tbh

I think you would meet her in a meet-cute way since it's always the people who you least expect to be cheesy

I think maybe like you accidentally tripped and made her spill her coffee in class. you look up an see this tall, ripped, emo looking chick and you rush to apologise and give her your drink in hopes she doesn't flip

shes like "...ok." and takes it. but then the next class she randomly sits next to you and passes you a drink and is like ... "i hope i got your order right?"

the dork memorized your drink akjglalg

after that she kinda keeps sitting next to you and attempts small talk, so you realize she's actually v sweet and exchange socials

which is great bc I think mikasa is way better at flirting over text than in person and you'd quickly understand that she likes you

First date would probably be a show, i think she'd take you to a local band she likes and would get a quick bite after it

I think for second date she'd like you to choose what you guys do and then third she chooses, you guys switch bc she's all about that equal effort

once you agree to be her s/o she'd gonna be so annoying on social media like she's def gonna loose some followers as she only posts you now

type of partner to notice the smallest changes in you right away

you give her a peck and shes like "why aren't you wearing your usual lip balm? do you not like strawberries anymore?"

in bed she's a dom, is that even a queston?

I think she's actually a brat tamer, in my head rn she gets a lil smirk when you act up and i think she just mentally notes what to punish you for later

mikasa views sex toys as allies not enemies, and yeah i think she has an impressive collection so buckle tf up

okay so she's kinda yandere (tbh i think most ppl from the aot universe are but esp mikasa) I think shes very protective and a touch paranoid?

like i think her past is kinda messed up and I can see her mind running wild with ideas if not reassured

so you can just oversleep for a bit and you'll wake up to mikasa practically breaking into your apartment to make sure you're okay bc you suddenly went silent on her

some trust issues too, would def be really upset if you didn't give her the passcode to your phone

doesn't like your friends or anyone else you talk to tbh, she just doesn't think anyone else has your back like she does and will always remind you

i also know her manipulation skill is cray being a psych major, I don't think she's as good as Armin but ik she can weaponize some therapy speak and make you feel a lil stupid (only does it for your own good she says)

doesn't get jealous but does get even

I can see the little shit putting thumbtacks in pockets or laxitives in drinks if someone dares flirt with you, she can be so evil sometimes i just know it

she isn't even scared of the aftermath bc she knows eren and armin have her back so she wants the smoke tbh

the type of partner to death stare someone from behind your back but when you turn around she's suddenly all :)

would love matching tattoos with you if you're down

think she'll be the quickest to bring up marriage too, porbably only a few months of dating and she's like "so when we get married-" and you're like "!?"

big spoon gf, you can be bigger than her and she don't gaf she's still holding you not the other way around

Overall a really sweet girlfriend who just wants to protect you and keep you all to herself

Can be a lil crazy at times, but she means well I swear !!!

Nicknames for you: love, my other half, wifey/hubbie

Songs that fit the vibe: The Perfect Girl by Mareux, Breezeblocks by Alt-J, Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

"You're such a strange girl, the way you look like you do."

"She's morphine, queen of my vaccine, my love, my love, love..."

"Girl you really got a hold on me, so this isn't just puppy love"

(She's so hot omg I love her, i developed a lil crush writing this! Anyway srry the moodboard didn't include couple stuff, girlfriend aesthetics are way harder to find than bf aesthetics and the ones I did find looked nothing like her :( tell me if you guys like this series, totally open to doing more characters! not even just from aot, i also kinda wanna do demon slayer or hxh, also love jjk and chainsaw man but I didn't read those mangas yet so I may not be the best at it!!)

[forsworned]

Crush ft. BlueCollar!Logan Walker

Synopsis: Heavily inspired by the song, Crush by Ethel Cain. Logan is a blue-collar welder employed at his father's metalwork shop located in the downtown area. Reader, who is an artist, experiences frustration with her metal sculpture that is to be showcased later in the month and desperately seeks the help of a professional.

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, Not all the lyrics are depicted in the story, BlueCollar!Logan x Artist!Reader, Mentions of Violence, Guns, Drug Trafficking, and Sexual Content, Logan is a Retired Marine

Author's note: Getting way too invested in Logan lately no thanks to @keegansshark , da realesttttttt

His window's already passed, so he's shooting at the glass Keeping guns in his locker, and he denies it Like it's actually important, but he lied 'cause I sure did watch him Showing up wearing black, and he knows that

Sharp, acrid, chemical-like fumes dizzy your mind as you step out of your garage and lift up the cover of your welding helmet to wipe the sweat off your brow. Smoke and dust collect in the air from the galvanized stainless steel that you had been working with for the past two hours and you're realizing that maybe you bit off more than you could chew. Your DIY metal sculpture has not been going as well as you had thought and you're starting to reconsider that taking a trip downtown to recruit some help from your local metalwork shop might be your best bet. It's a straight shot, seven minutes away from your neighborhood, but you really do not want to admit defeat.

You sighed as you card your fingers through your hair and grab your keys, stuffing the fucked up metalwork into the passenger seat and hit the pedal to the metal.

The bell rings as you push open the door and the metallic, pungent smell of multiple fumes clogs your nose. To your right, a man is stuffing his light-wash denim Levi jacket into a blue-rusted locker. His hair is a sandy blonde color cropped down into a grown-out buzz, and his taut arms are littered with tattoos. His black tee is tucked into his jeans and he adjusts his holster to reveal the handgun that's stowed away under his leather belt.

He turns to you and his eyes widen, brows raised as he quickly shuts the door to his locker, but you have already caught a glimpse of the guns that littered the small space. And as alarming as it may have been, you were only fixated on how pretty his hazel eyes were.

"Can I help you?" He treads to the desk that sits right in the middle of the small lobby area, and you suck in a small inhale before approaching him.

The metal sculpture you have been working on clatters on the wooden counter.

"Need some tips and tricks for this piece that I'm doing for an art show later this month, would you be able to service me in that?"

He raises a brow at you. "I don't typically take freelance commissions."

You huff. "Please? I'm desperate."

His eyes flicker to you, giving you a once over and a small smile adorns his face.

"Alright."

His daddy's on death row, but he'll say it with his chest, though His friends move dope, he hasn't tried coke But he's always had a problem saying no His older brother bagged the valedictorian His mother, steady, screaming he should be more like him

A shiver runs up your spinal column when a chilly gust sweeps into the open garage. For May, it's certainly a bit too chilly. But you ignore it as you study how he perfects the fissure you attempted to weld over earlier. A small puff of air leaves your chest and Logan sets down the welder and glances over at you.

You cross your arms. "What?"

He stifles a laugh, scratching the stubble on his cheek with his soot-covered fingers. "You're huffin' and puffin' over there."

"No, I'm not." You mimp at him.

He snickers at your pursued lips. "You are."

In the short time that he has gotten the pleasure to know you, he realizes how short of a fuse you have when it comes to your own artwork. The meticulousness of your piece and how high-strung you become when you can't implement the same technique as him because, duh, he's a professional welder with years of experience under his belt. But regardless, you're throwing your little tantrums and don't think he doesn't notice it. The little finger taps on the metal table whenever your penetration isn't properly bonded, or the eye rolls when he fixes the undercuts you created. It's cute and admirable how passionate you are about your craft and honestly, it really turns him on. Especially when you spend hours perfecting your fusions, even staying after closing time.

But then it's after midnight, and Logan forgets that his friends transport their red tops through the facility in the later hours to pick them up in the morning. You always knew the shop was a little sketchy, so drug trafficking and money laundering had definitely crossed your mind at some point. And yet, you're silent and minding your own at the company that huddles in the large expanse of the garage. A wink is sent your way from the gentleman with pretty wintry hues and you give him a meek smile. You only recognize his older brother Hesh who gives you a good-natured grin while he carries a duffle bag with money sticking out the corners of the zipper.

"Dude, you said nobody would be here." Hesh chides in a low voice.

"My bad." Logan's tone is blase and the sound of Hesh's tongue clicking echoes.

Logan leans against the wall, pushing a cigarette between his lips before he lights it. "She maintains focus on her own assigned tasks."

You narrow your eyes at the statement, sensing that, strangely, it carries enough weight to influence the intimidating group of men. There's an awkward silence until his older brother clears his throat and the palpable tension in the room dissipates.

You continue to make yourself busy, manipulating metal sheets into flower petals. Hesh does a once over at you before he pushes past his younger brother and toward the back, but he can't stop himself from leaving him with a snide remark:

"Make sure it stays that way."

Can you read my mind? I've been watching you (You know it, you know it, you know it's true) Couldn't fight to save your life, but you look so cool Camo' jacket, robbing corner stores Hard odds to beat when you're on all fours Good men die too, oh, I'd rather be with you, you, you

Fortunately for you, you were good on your unspoken rule of minding your business. So much so that you were beginning to befriend their little clique. But they're lingering a little too long around your liking, distracting you when you really should be getting toward the final pieces of your sculpture.

It's hard when they're flexing your taut muscles while showing you their tatted arms and fresh ink under their Saniderm patches.

"What is it?" You cock an amused brow at Keegan.

He gives you a wolfish grin. "A pansy."

You chuckle. "Cause you're a fuckin' pansy?"

He joins in on your laughter. "Hell yeah."

You don't really like prying so you laugh it off knowing there is some deeper meaning behind it. The sound of Logan's throat clears and an icy glare is shot toward the retired Sergeant's way to which he only rolls his wintry hues and pokes your side on his way out. You jolt at his playful gesture and swipe at him, narrowly missing by a few millimeters, as he jogs towards the break room.

Logan leans against the welded steel workbench, sucking on a blue raspberry ice pop as he ogles you. "Should be workin' on your piece 'stead of flirting."

You snort, as you position the sheet metal on your sculpture but it slips out of your nimble fingers and clatters loudly on the ground. A vulgarity leaves your lips as you fumble around to get it, but Logan is quick to pick it up and perfectly welds it on the shoulder of the sculpture.

And for once you're kind of relieved that he's intervened. You quietly inhale, leaning against the workbench as you observe how he sets down the welding tool on the table. A primal sense of jealousy and possessiveness seeps into him as he glances over at you with darkened eyes.

"Your deadline's comin' up."

"I know." You mutter, eyelashes batting up at him with desire.

You notice how his camo compression shirt hugs his physique and you feel the sweat begin to form at the nape of your neck. His eyes glance over at your lips and they involuntarily quiver. The tension is unbearable--palpable even.

He moves closer to you, closing the gap between your forms as he reaches out his calloused hand to gently grasp at your neck. Your breaths mingle against one another while they inch closer, brushing the pillowy flesh of your lips before he devours you. His lips hotly slot against yours and it's dizzying the way he kisses you so feverishly. You waste no time kissing him back as he clears the workbench and lifts your form to sit atop it. The cold steel presses against your bare thighs, but the warmth of his soot-covered hands creates a pleasant contrast as they glide over the flesh of your spine. His other hand threads through your hair and tugs it just right, eliciting a moan as your tongues collide.

Your hand moves to his chest before gently pushing him away, your lips only connected by a string of saliva and your breaths draw ragged. A smirk adorns your dulcet features as you move back to the welding table, and Logan feels captivated by the person he's starting to see.

"Gotta get back to my work."

I owe you a black eye and two kisses Tell me when you wanna come and get 'em I only want him if he says it first to me I wanna, uh, him in the back of his mom's Mercury He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro Reds

Logan has been missing for some days since that night. Hesh on the other hand has been more than happy to fill in the void that his younger brother has left.

"He's been on a business trip." Hesh nudges you as he helps you remove the slag on your sculpture to reveal the clean beading underneath. You perk up at his voice.

"Who?" Although, the both of you know exactly 'who' he was referring to.

Hesh chuckles as he wipes his blackened hands and sets the microfiber towel down to sit on the wooden stool across from you. His emerald eyes are glimmering in the sunlight that reflects from the garage windows. One thing about the Walker brothers is that they shared that coquettish, boyish charm that you couldn't resist. It is brimming with mischief and playfulness with a roughness around the edges.

He glances at his watch. "In about an hour or so."

Your heart drops to your stomach and you feel a yearning pain for his enigmatic presence that is always luring you in for more. Your fingers absentmindedly brush at your lips and the retired Lieutenant narrows his eyes at you.

You're quick to notice that Hesh picks up on your subtle gesture and you swiftly excuse yourself. But he can only snicker to himself when he sees how you hurry off to the courtyard just outside the garage. Your brain inattentively searches for the scent of Marlboro red's. It's a distinct smell; strong and robust in comparison to the menthol's that the other smoke. And you don't know if it's your imagination, but it wafts into your senses. Unthinkingly, you follow it and your eyes ream at the unexpected arrival of the inscrutable man who cooly, draws smoke from his lips, and it unfurls into the air before it evaporates.

His intense hazel eyes never leave yours and you're caught up in them. They're dark, alluring, and spellbinding in the shade of the canopy of the courtyard. He sports medium-wash denim jeans adorned with distressed patches at the pockets and thighs, secured by a simple black belt, with his slate grey tee neatly tucked in. The fabric of the sleeves tightens around the muscle of his taut biceps and you have to thickly swallow to conjure up some strength. Strength to not throw yourself on him and jump his bones.

"Thought you'd be here in an hour or so." You murmur, slowly striding toward him. He takes another drag before offering it to you. You smooth over the lipgloss that lacquers your lips before you pluck the cigarette out of his fingers and slowly inhale. When it leaves your mouth, the creases of your lips brand the cigarette paper and he licks his cracked lips as you hand it back to him. He doesn't waste any time wrapping his mouth over your strawberry-flavored lipgloss, remembering how you tasted the last time your lips touched.

"Wrapped up early." He replies, with the cigarette fixed between his lips. He turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why? Did you miss me?"

It makes me so, uh, and I can't get enough of it Something's been feeling weird lately There's just something about you, baby (there's just something about you, baby) Maybe I'll just be crazy (I'll be crazy) And piss him off 'til he hates me Low slung bad bitch, baby, come and get you some

And in the blink of an eye, it's the showcasing of your art exhibit and you tell yourself not to get your hopes up. That Logan isn't exactly the most predictable of humans, but Hesh assures you they'll all be there. In fact, they're thrilled to have an excuse to wear a suit and attend an event where they can showcase their metalworking skills and be recognized for their talent.

"He'll be here." Keegan pulls you out of your stupor. He's peering over the rim of his champagne glass at your trepidatious expression and how your eyes dart across the room looking for him; overgrown blonde buzzcut and the heavy aroma of iron oxide, tobacco, and his father's passed down Jean Paul Gaultier. You can't quite imagine him in a suit either, but you aren't disappointed at how well the retired Marines turned blue-collar workers clean up. Clean-shaven with a few dabs of aftershave, dressed in crisp navy suits, and wearing their finest tap dancing shoes, they were set for the night.

They don't even look out of place either, and yet you did. In a crowd full of people who adored your art, and every second of your night being spent talking to art collectors, admirers, and socialites--you were utterly alone. And you knew that you shouldn't rely on a man to fill that void, nevertheless, here you were, doing just that.

"I'm gonna go to the restroom." You mutter and down the rest of your champagne before heading off. The sound of Keegan's phone ringing is faint, but it manages to catch your attention. You lean against the wall for a moment in hopes of capturing who he was speaking to. In hopes of it being...

"Logan! Where the fuck are ya, kid?"

And your heart drops to your stomach. You felt like you already had your answer. Something about a shipment taking too long to process with their wholesale dealer and that was something you didn't want to stick around to hear. You had some hope that this time would be different. That maybe he would push aside whatever shady business he had going aside for you, but you were a fool to think that he would change for you.

The rest of the evening drags by. You're no longer glancing at your watch or rummaging through the room for him. The little words of encouragement and smiles from his friends and brother had become mere background noise to you by now. Time is like a hazy blur of conversations about your artwork, countless glasses of Armand de Brignac, and mindless gossiping about gallery politics and exhibit guests.

And soon enough it's past midnight and your social battery is running low. Your guests have long left the premises, but thankfully your welding companions stay behind to help you pack up your remaining props and pieces into their truck that could probably fit ten bodies in the trunk alone.

You let out a sharp exhale as you observe Merrick scolding Hesh and Kick for not preparing the cargo net. Sometimes it was talking to a small herd of teenage boys, nonetheless, you were grateful for their help.

The final pieces remaining in the exhibit were delicate and, moreover, the ones Logan had been most involved with. When you headed back inside to load them into your car, you immediately felt a pit in your stomach as soon as you entered the gallery.

There he stood, with a mussed-up, overgrown buzz, and unkempt facial hair, clad in soot-covered work trousers and a white tee stained with what appeared to be dried blood, admiring the work you both had collaborated on.

"Man, she's a real beauty—really outdone yourself, [name]."

He turns to you and you feel yourself crumble. You tremble with anger, and his face softens as he takes in your expression. He knows he fucked up big time. The worst part about it is that he looks unbelievably sexy, but your rage is bubbling within you as you take another stride toward him.

He's careful with how he approaches. Careful to not make any sudden movements as if you would pounce on him and tear him limb from limb.

"I'm sorry..." He breathes out, observing the way you slowly circle him.

"Oh, you're sorry?" You hissed.

He swallows thickly, feeling a shudder travel up his spinal column. "There was a hold up..."

He clenches and unclenches his fist reflecting on said "hold up" that caused him to be so tardy. It's not like he didn't know how important this was to you, but he also wasn't obligated to show up in the way you were expecting him to.

You stop in your tracks and pinch the bridge of your nose. It's hard to stay mad at someone whose tongue was shoved down your throat just a few days ago.

Logan is debating whether his presence is even worthy of being around you, but he reaches out to hold your wrist anyway.

"Get off of me." You tug your wrist away, but he has a firm grip on you.

"Let me make it up to you." His hazel half-lidded gaze holds yours and your anger begins to melt away.

"How?"

His hands suddenly find themselves around your waist and you yelp as he lifts you, setting you on the bar. Your little black dress rides up your thighs and pulls them apart only to find that not only are you not wearing underwear, but your pussy is glistening in the dim exhibit lighting. He gives you one final glance as if to ask for permission, but you're already tangling your fingers into his dirty blonde hair.

He doesn't even waste any time devouring your sopping, wet pussy. One long stripe and then he's losing himself in your saccharine taste that he cannot get enough of. He had no idea how he withheld himself from such a heavenly taste and those sweet, milky moans.

All those long nights they spent working together in the shop he had to hold himself back from slipping down your shorts, bending you over the workbench, and taking right then and there. It all amounted to this moment—his tongue deep in your cunt and you were lost in the euphoria he was bringing you. The notion of the others walking in on you is tossed away to the backlogs of your mind.

His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, holding your writhing body still as he sucks on your pillow clit. You tremble against him feeling yourself nearing the edge, but he's torturing you. Withdrawing his tongue from the sensitive nub, kissing around your inner thighs, but you're not having any of it.

Your fingers pull at his hair and lead his tongue back to where you want it, bucking your hips against his mouth. His hazel hues flicker up to you and he's smirking at your domineering energy. You're taking charge as you grind your pussy against his tongue and lolling your head to the side as you feel your orgasm coming on.

"Fuuuck, 'm gonna..." You moan out in pure ecstasy as your eyes drift to the back of your head and your back arches away from the counter.

And he's definitely not stopping his efforts in bringing you there. In fact, he's probing his fingers between your velvety folds and curling his fingers to that sweet spot that drives you to your climax.

"Logan...!" You whimper out as you ride your high and he drowns in your soddened pussy. "Oh fuck..." You breathe out as it dissipates slowly but surely. He licks one last stripe to your shimmering folds as he withdraws his fingers, observing the way your arousal clings to his fingers and lapping them up.

"I have no fuckin' clue how I held back for so long." He cups your cheek, lips lacquered with your cum, and you hotly slot your lips against his in a feverish kiss. Being pressed up against him in the building where you hosted your long-awaited art exhibit feels like one of your reoccuring wet dreams.

Your hands fly to his belt to unbuckle, but the sound of footsteps grasp your attention and your caught redhanded, but his cheeky older brother, Hesh.

"Oh—" He grins at your tangled bodies against the bar. "as much as I hate to break up you two lover birds, security is rounding us up to see us off.”

You feel the embarrassment creeping up on your flushed cheeks. “R-right.” You fix your dress and Logan casually buckles his belt and helps you down from the bar as if you two weren’t going to fuck each other dumb.

As Hesh grabs the last few items and exits the area, Logan comes up from behind you and squeezes your ass as he murmurs against the shell of your ear:

“I’ll follow you back to your place?”

Good men die too, so I'd rather be with you, you, you rather be with you, oh Oh, I'd rather be with you, oh 'Cause good men die too, so I'd rather be with you

[dancingdonatello]

donnie x gender neutral reader

“In order to date me, you must pass a simple test.” Donnie held the paper vertically in two hands right in front of his chest.

You were in his lab, surrounded by his entire family who were spectating. It was nerve wracking, how they all smirked and eyed you up. It was as if they knew something you didn’t.

But you had studied. You had spent several hours reviewing math equations, practicing chemical equations, and of course, memorizing as much of Pi as you could. As long as you didn’t have to write a rhetorical analysis, you should be able to manage a low C.

Donnie cleared his throat, setting an egg timer at the desk you were sitting at. “You have an hour.” He set the paper in front of you along with a #2 pencil.

You looked down at the test and paused. You picked up the paper and flipped it over. Blank. You flipped it back over. There was only a single question, in all caps and italicized.

WHAT IS DONATELLO’S FAVORITE COLOR?

a) purple

b) blue

c) orange

d) red

Your first thought was that this was a trick but the more you tried to think about it, the more jumbled your thoughts became.

Leo saw your face and walked over, leaning over your shoulder to look at the test. “What?! Don, are you serious? This is way too easy!”

Raph and Mikey joined his side to look. Mikey gasped. “No… this is psychological torture.”

Donnie snorted, no doubt seeing the sweat beginning to form on your forehead. He said nothing.

His brothers were not helping you at all. Mikey was too loud, yelling, “Wait! Let me go get my pom poms!” before returning with thrmand shaking them in front of you. It was very distracting.

Then Leo was basically breathing down your neck to be able to watch every movement you made towards the paper. He’d hum and groan in disapproval each time you hovered over a color.

And lastly, Raph was trying to be encouraging, muttering advice next to you. But none of it made sense. You listened to him for a moment before you realized he was talking about pizza and car insurance.

You were full on sweating at this point and you had to pull at the collar of your shirt to catch a breeze. Which there were none. You were dying.

“Donnie, babe, can you please give me a hint?”

Donnie rose an eyebrow, not looking up from his phone. “Pet names are dating privileges, which you don’t have as last time I checked, you haven’t turned in your test yet. Also, no talking. There are tests still out.”

You buried your face into your hands. You really had to focus. Purple, blue, orange or red. It was easy. It had to be easy. But what if it was a trick? Or what if it was a trick to make you think it was a trick?

He had told you that Splinter had called them colors to remember them. Or something like that. If it was true, he could’ve held a grudge against the color purple because of that. But what if he became attached to it? He had really wanted that purple jacket the Purple Dragons had after all. But maybe… Oh, you were definitely going to have a headache after this.

You took a deep breath and picked up your pencil. You circled your answer.

“Oooh… are you sure about that, bud?” Leo tsked judgmentally, making you second guess yourself. You stood up and trudged over to Donnie. You shakily handed him the paper.

“Hmmm….” Donnie read it over. “Wow. Perfect score. 1/1.”

You gasped and Mikey jumped onto your back with a cheer. “You did it!”

“But—” your blood ran cold. “—you forgot to put your name. Unfortunately, that means I’ll have to take a point off. And of course, that also means you got a 0/1.”

You almost fell to your knees.

“But!” Donnie said again, holding up a finger. “There is extra credit available.”

“What is it?!”

The next day at school, while Donnie was hidden around a corner with his camera out and recording, you stuck your leg out and tripped Kendra.

[twinsunstars]

The Medic - a Star Wars fic

Summary: In another version of a galaxy, far, far away, a clone trooper gets his name through his own skills.

Word Count: 1,794

TW: blood, some abuse

Notes: I was inspired by @warsamongthestars's post about the alternative names for "Hemlock" and one being Kix and @paperback-rascal's drawing of Kix that was based on that post. I really wanted to write something about this concept since it sounded so intriguing, so I hope you all like this! HIGHLY RECOMMEND you view the posts before reading below! Let me know your thoughts! :)

also up on AO3, read under cut if you want to read on here!

As a cadet, CT-6116 grew to have multiple interests in different areas of medicine. Chemical, botanical, anything that involved studying items that would help people heal. Though, many of these things had potential to be deadly, and CT-6116 loved learning more about them. 

All clones were primarily bred for the purposes of being a soldier. With CT-6116, he would be out in the training rooms with the rest of his brothers, practicing with a blaster and going through various strength exercises. Sometimes, he was put with a few Kaminoans to learn about healing practices. CT-6116 was allowed to operate on many clones who got injured during training sessions, preparing for his purpose as a soldier and a medic out in the battlefield one day. The Kaminoans supplied him with various files and readings about many plants and substances that could help to heal injuries. CT-6116 enjoyed practicing with any of the substances he was given, often teaching himself how to make supplements to help clones heal. 

CT-6116 often spent some nights studying these files, expanding his knowledge of everything that could become useful to him one day. Many of the medical plants had various locations spread across the galaxy. There could be a high likelihood that CT-6116 could stumble upon one or many of the planets in his lifetime, becoming wonderful opportunities to gather these plants to make use of. 

He swiped to the next small reading on his datapad, coming across a bright green plant that was labeled as one that was highly poisonous and could be found in various distinct sectors of the Outer Rim. The plant did also have a separate species that was mostly used for healing purposes at the utmost caution. CT-6116 was intrigued by this plant, and it had various names in different dialects. 

Hemlock. Or Kex. Another alternative. Kix. 

That one sounded like it had a nice ring to it. CT-6116 kept the name in mind. 

As CT-6116 grew rapidly over time and closer to his chances of becoming a soldier in the Grand Army of the Republic, he had kept a journal of everything he had learned from the Kaminoans regarding medical practices. Kamino had a small sector where they kept many plants and medicines collected from outside worlds, and CT-6116 had gotten the chance to visit that sector multiple times to aid the Kaminoans in their experimental endeavors. 

During a training session, CT-6116 witnessed one of the trainers in charge of getting the clones ready for the war harassing a fellow clone cadet he was close with. CT-6116 hid behind a wall, listening closely.

“You barely hit any of the targets assigned to you!” The trainer slapped the young clone hard across their face. A bright red mark remained on the clone’s cheek. The trainer grabbed the clone’s face, their sharp nails digging into the clone’s flesh. The clone let out a whimper from the pain. 

“Oh, you’re a crybaby alright. You’re bred for war, yet you display the weakest of skills apart from your other kind.” The trainer’s claws dug deeper into the clone’s skin. Blood was exhibited within a few seconds, dripping down the clone’s neck. 

“You know you can be better,” the trainer growled, letting go of the young clone. The clone cadet hung his head down, avoiding the trainer’s gaze. He refused to cry in front of him. His lips trembled as he slowly picked up his helmet from the ground.

“Be better tomorrow, or I’ll make the Kaminoans scrap you like a droid. Understood?”

The clone cadet shook his head nervously, his hands shaking while holding his helmet.

“Get out of my sight.”

The clone cadet walked away quickly as the trainer left. CT-6116 quickly grabbed the young clone’s arm, hiding with him behind the wall. The clone cadet gasped and raised his fist, ready to attack. 

“Relax. It’s me.”

The young clone relaxed upon seeing CT-6116. CT-6116 examined the clone’s face, blood continuing to drop down from his face. “Come on. I’ll patch you up. Do you want some of the warm herbal tea you like a lot?”

The clone cadet nodded. That trainer was going to pay. 

***

CT-6116 arrived at a medical room, where the Kaminoans would be needing his assistance with some medical experiments in precisely an hour. He gathered a few supplies, preparing the table. 

“Hey, you’re one of the clones the Kaminoans train in medicine, aren’t ya?” 

CT-6116 turned to see the same trainer who had hurt the clone cadet walking in. He kept a straight face, waiting for the trainer to talk more. 

“Say, I’ve got a real bad migraine. Could you whip me up a drink to help it?”

CT-6116 swallowed. He thought for a moment. 

“Right away, sir!”

He grabbed a cup and heated up some water, having an idea in mind. “Be right back, sir. I will grab some things that will be useful for you.”

 CT-6116 headed over to the sector where all of the medical plants were kept. He grabbed a few, ready to use them in the drink. He returned to the medical room, brewing the plants in the hot water and mixing them together. 

“Here you go, sir.”

“Finally.” The trainer moaned, the pain of his migraine increasing. He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. Another. 

Within a minute, the trainer began to cough violently, dropping the drink on the table. His hands shook as he coughed and wheezed. CT-6116 tilted his head, observing the trainer suffer from the side effects of the drink. 

“What… is this?! Are you trying to kill me, clone?!”

CT-6116 shrugged. “You asked me to whip up a drink for you, sir. So I did!”

The trainer coughed more, the taste of blood coming near. “You know… what I mean…”

CT-6116 came closer. “Ah, that. I don’t take kindly to trainers abusing their power over cadets, silly.”

The trainer understood what he was talking about. This clone had seen him yesterday. And now he was trying to make him die. He stared at the leaves that were in the drink. “How did you… What did you put in this? Some kind of weed?”

“Maybe,” CT-6116 said. “It’ll hurt for days, but you’ll live.”

The trainer tried to breathe. “You’re a danger, a poison.” He coughed again, feeling like he recognized one of the plants in the drink. “Is there a hemlock in this?”

CT-6116 didn’t answer. There was the name of that plant again he was so intrigued by. The trainer called him a poison. CT-6116 was made to be a soldier and a medic. He knew he had much more potential to do good for others by punishing evil, and everything he had learned about chemicals and plants were his open gateways. 

CT-6116 grinned. “Possibly. But I like Kix a lot more though.”

***

Becoming one of the 501st Legion’s soldiers and its primary medic, Kix did all that he could to help heal clones from their injuries in the battlefield. It was difficult learning that he couldn’t save many of his brothers, but it was a hard reality he had to face.

The 501st had recently captured a Separatist spy after discovering he wasn’t all that he seemed to be. He was pretending to be an ally of the Republic, though the clones managed to see through his deceit and the way he would mistreat the clones. 

The clones were getting ready to head back to the Republic with the prisoner in transport. General Skywalker had said he will meet them there after taking care of another issue the Jedi Council had assigned him to. 

The Separatist prisoner was handcuffed and left with Kix. He had been severely injured during an attack, and Kix was assigned to patching up his wounds so that he could be in a good condition to talk in a jail cell at Coruscant. 

Kix applied bandages to the prisoner’s injuries, keeping a close eye on the prisoner in case he tried anything to escape. He turned around, picking up a cup and handing it to the prisoner. “Drink.”

The Separatist prisoner looked up at Kix, letting out a scoff. He took the cup with both his hands, gulping the drink down. The prisoner spat the drink out, coughing from the bitter taste. His eyes watered and he felt sick to the stomach. 

“How… why…”

Kix just chuckled. “I don’t take lightly to my brothers being mistreated by others. Especially by Separatists.”

The prisoner choked, trying to clear his throat. “How did you…”

Kix grabbed the prisoner by his shirt’s collar. “Next time you try to murder and hurt my brothers, I won’t be forgiving. I am not called ‘hemlock’ for nothing.”

***

Kix woke up cold one day in the galaxy, met by a rugged crew of pirates. He would soon learn that the Clone Wars were long over, and so were the days of the Republic. The First Order spread its terror across the galaxy with its reign. 

Everyone Kix had known were likely all dead by now. The pirates said that all clones were extinct by now. It was just him that was left. 

All Kix remembered was trying to get back to the Republic to tell General Skywalker the truth about the “virus” that had caused Tup to act strangely, and that Fives was trying to warn them about. Everything had gone black, and he never got his chance to tell him. 

Out of options, Kix joined the pirates to survive, traveling through the changed galaxy and looking for lost treasures. He would often tell people stories about the clones, keeping the lives of his brothers alive. Kix listened to stories about what happened to the Jedi and what the Galactic Empire would do during the time it ruled the galaxy, and how the rebels and a certain Jedi managed to bring their tyranny to an end. Kix couldn’t believe what he was hearing when he heard the name “Skywalker” after so many years. 

Whenever the pirates went undercover, Kix used the name “Hemlock” as a code name. He still used his medical skills to his advantage, and his ability to poison someone whenever it was needed. There were still dangerous people out there in the galaxy harming people who didn’t deserve to suffer under the hands of evil. 

Kix had never gotten to learn that there used to be a doctor alive many years ago with Hemlock as a birth name, responsible for the torture of many clones. Unfortunately, that doctor’s name never reached the former Galactic Empire’s history books, yet Kix’s stories kept the names and tales of his brothers alive. The galaxy would forever remember the bravery and strength of the clones who served the Old Republic.