#((as well as until i figure out how my biology works

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[b0nten]

HOW ARE BABIES MADE?

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.

RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”

meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”

SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.

TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”

KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.

if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ��kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.

IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.

[starlightervarda]

I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???

🪴 plantdad Follow

You've got to be kidding me

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!

5,324 notes

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.

955 notes

🖖 iamspock Follow

Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.

For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.

Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?

I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.

💅 janicethemenace Follow

I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT

💉 xtinechapel Follow

DELETE THIS

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭

🔧 scott-free Follow

But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

DMing you rn 😳

🖖 iamspock Follow

You're welcome.

24,103 notes

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.

My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.

🪴 plantdad Follow

I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

Do I really have to say it?

6,322 notes

💊 mmmbenga Follow

The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist

⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow

Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.

💊 mmmbenga Follow

Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole

#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them

35,007 notes

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

Erica no! That's not how navigation works!

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

FLOOR IT???

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

ERICA NO

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID

🚀 mitchiemitch

ERICA P L E A S E

112,517 notes

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.

How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO

💫 numerouna Follow

Wait what did I miss while I was gone

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///

2,904 notes

[vivid-ink]

Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"

fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)

Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...

Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!

Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan

And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.

You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.

“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”

A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.

When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.

Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.

You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.

You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.

“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”

“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.

Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”

A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.

The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”

With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.

Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.

The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.

The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.

A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”

His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.

You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”

Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.

“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.

“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”

Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”

He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.

He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.

“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.

He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”

Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…

Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.

You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”

You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.

“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.

“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…

“It was self-stimulated.”

“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”

“Female. Definitely female.”

His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.

He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.

The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.

Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.

Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”

“Sure.”

Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.

“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”

You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”

Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.

Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.

“What’s the next part?”

“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”

“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”

You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.

You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.

Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”

Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.

“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.

Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.

You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”

“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.

You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.

Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”

A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”

Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.

You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.

The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.

The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.

It was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…

You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.

You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.

“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.

He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”

“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.

“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.

“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.

Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.

Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…

Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”

“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.

You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.

You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.

All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…

You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.

So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.

Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.

You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…

A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”

A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”

Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.

He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”

“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.

Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”

One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.

With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.

He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.

You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.

Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.

The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.

Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…

Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.

Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”

His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”

“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.

“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”

A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…

[lamiadrowned]

hi queen! i love ur page and i have a request! could you do headcannons for vi with an extremely honest yet clueless reader, i feel like that’d be so funny like “jinx is no longer my sister” “uhhh yes she is??” anyway that’s it, thank you !! <33

*:･ﾟ✧ vi with a (slightly) airheaded girlfriend

violet x fem!reader | sfw

this is a hilarious request ugh thank you anon

first of all, she finds you so funny. especially when you aren’t trying to be.

it always leaves you stumped when you’re trying to actually correct her on something, and she just bursts out laughing like you told the funniest joke she’d ever heard.

the biggest arguments you’ve gotten into with her happen when you incorrectly correct her grammar or use of a phrase, but neither of you really have a good enough education to tell who’s right and who’s wrong, so most of your spats remain unresolved.

after all, two people who need to be right all the time are bound to bicker.

a lot of your ‘arguments’ don’t contain much bickering, though.

they’re mostly just a back-and-forth dialogue that devolves into mutual confusion and total disarray. as hardheaded as she can be, she’s also the first to admit that she doesn’t know as much as she might have thought.

you’re like her own personal fact checker! (but the facts have no backing and she just has to kind of choose whether or not to believe you).

“any updates on your sister?” you’d ask her after another long day of your respective work pertaining to jinx.

she’d spent most of the day scouring the streets of zaun for any sign of her, while you stayed in your apartment trying to piece together documents and records to track her down.

vi takes off her jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair at the dining table, which is covered in papers and blurry pictures. “as far as i’m concerned, she sure as hell isn’t my sister.”

“what?” your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “i mean, you have the same parents. how could she not be your sister?”

she immediately recognizes your tone, knowing she’d accidentally dug herself into a hole with one sentence. “i… i meant it more as a metaphor, i guess. that’s the word, right?”

you stare at her in complete silence, recalling her words and wondering if the metaphor had completely flown over your head. eventually, you shake your head and try to ignore the knowing smile on her face. “i don’t think you know what a metaphor is, hun.”

“hold on, what even is a metaphor, then?” she asks, now seeming to be just as confused as you, that smug grin now replaced with a look of total dubiety.

you lean against the dining table. “a metaphor would be comparing two things that aren’t related.”

“oh. well, there you go. me and jinx aren’t related. it is a metaphor.” she shrugs.

“you are related, though. same parents, remember?” you tilt your head. “something about biology and all that dna shit.”

she positions herself in front of you and cups your jawline with her calloused hands, tilting your head to look up at her. “it’s adorable and aggravating that you take everything so literally, you know that?”

for a moment, you totally forget what the conversation was about, given the fact that just looking into her eyes is enough to turn your brain to mush.

that is, until it finally clicks.

“oh! you’re using a figure of speech,” you wrap your arms around her shoulders, “which is not the same as a metaphor.”

then, she snaps her fingers and points at you with, smile beaming with success. “yeah! yeah, that’s it. a figure of speech. thanks, babe.”

she’s also quick to realize that you do the same to pretty much everyone else, so at the very least, she knows it isn’t targeted.

if anything, it’s free entertainment.

watching proudly as you squabble with a bartender about how a non-alcoholic drink should be called just that, rather than a teetotaler’s drink, because “90% of zaun’s population probably couldn’t pronounce that word, nonetheless know what it means,” simply because you happened to be one of the 90% who could not pronounce it nor define it.

also, she backs you up like her life depends on it, even if she didn’t hear half of the conversation, or generally have no idea what the conversation was about.

after any of your feuds with someone other than her, she’ll make a point to go up to them and respectfully throw down some corny defenses like “the misses is always right, capiche?” or “can’t really argue with that, huh?”

[grahstumhurts]

The stars aligned for us

Synopsis- Y/n had always had a crush on Sophia. this being Y/n's senior year, she had to make it count. Sophia, a untouchable goddess, in Y/ns eyes. Will it happen?

A/N - YES I KNOW ITS A CHEESY TITLE AND FIC, ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR TUMBLR OKAY. SUE ME IF I WANTED SOME CHEESY ROMANTIC SOPHIA CONTENT. This was not proof read so yeah

 Lara always complains about how I stare at her in the halls when she passes by with her flock. “Dude, its honestly sad how much time you spend a day staring at her and or thinking about her, when in all brutal truth, she probably doesn't give you a single thought.” Lara sighs, rubbing her forehead in frustration as she watches me get out my books for my AP biology class. “Its not that bad, okay. Trust me i've been worse.” I try defending myself, “Listen, Y/N At this point you might as well confess since it's almost the end of the year. Whats the worst that could happen? You get embarrassed, yes, But you won't ever see her again until the highschool reunion.” Lara tries to convince me for the Nth time this year. Senior year was supposed to be the year where I let loose. By the time senior spring had come and college applications were through, there had been one thing I had yet to do. I’ve known her for years. I mean everyone knows her at our school. She's everyone's dream girl, Untouchable you could say. Sophia Laforteza. I sigh, almost giving in this time, “No, I won't do it. Like i've said multiple times, she's an untouchable painting that, Good lord, I want to touch so bad” I close my locker, leaning against it, facing towards Lara. She gives me an unimpressed look. “You have AP Bio with her next right? So why not ask her to study sometime? I mean you are basically failing that class,girl.” I pause, I consider it, My brain algorithm approves. The bell rings for the next period. “why are you actually kinda smart, Lara.” I walk past her “Hey, woah what do you mean kinda, I legit just gave you the best idea ever” she yells at my passing figure as i jog off to mr bennetts classroom. “For the sake of my mental health I pray to Beyonce that this works.” Lara mumbles under her breath as she walks off to her class. 

Now you would think that the universe would be on my side. And you would be right. The stars have aligned as Lara would say, God forbid that girl ever not talk about stars and astrology the moment the conversation dies down. “Alright class, today i'm announcing your semester-long project for this class. This project will be starting today and will be ending by the end of the semester, so right around April we will present. Now this is a partner project” The class groans in disbelief, “Settle down. Now, I will be picking the partners-” The class erupts in boisterous anger at Mr bennett. “Calm down, Jesus, I'm retiring after this year. This project is going to be about whatever you want it to be. as long as it relates to biology.” He opens his laptop. “Now the partners will be…” he pauses reading the screen “Chloe and Marquise, Nickolas and Wendy, Y/N and Sophia” I note down these partnerships in my head just for reference, Wait. Are you fucking kidding me, its me and sophia? Now in hindsight you would think that maybe this is a class prank on me. I swear to fucking god i was about ready to explode, yean no not that kind of explode, the one where im the most anxious person on the god damn planet that we call fucking earth. Out of the 24 students in this class, other than me, there is a one in fucking 24 chance that i would be placed with her. Which i find is fucking ridiculous. “And thats it for partners, now if you could start planning your projects that would be great” Everyone shuffles around the room, trying to find their partner. I scramble to pick up my things when I drop my pencil case. I notice a manicured hand pick it up, i connect the hand to the arm, the arm to the body. Like the gorgeous goddess she is, she hands me my pencil case, Stupid fucking fish pencil case. “I like your pencil case, its pretty creative and unique” She comments, placing the fish on the table “thanks, my grandma got it for me so i've just been using it ever since.” I laugh uncomfortably. “What do you wanna do the project on?” I meekly ask her, I avoid all eye contact possible. She ponders for a moment, “I've always been kinda interested in how the weather contributes to moods, would that be something your okay with doing?”  “imokaywithdoingwhateveryouwant” I spit out, at possibly the pace of a marathon runner. She laughs to herself at my reaction “you're cute.” She mumbles. “Are you free this week to start the project or…” She drags off the end of the word to insinuate for me to answer, “i'm good for this week, maybe tomorrow? After school” “We can go over to your house? My siblings can be quite loud so i dont think that’ll be the best “study spot”” She physically puts those two words in quotations. Which wakes me up to the reality that i will be spending the rest of the semester with her, creating a project. “Sure, Im down.” I say a little too excited, I clear my throat. “Cool, cant wait” she says casually as she walks off to her desk to pack up. 

The first week went surprisingly well. I actually kept my cool and had a normal conversation with her. As the weeks grow, my feelings never really cut off for her. Instead, like a tumour, it grows. And so does my guilt. The project builds up a good amount of research, by the time its almost the end of the semester, March to be exact. The guilt, it flourishes inside me like a mouldy banana in the bottom of your bag. For all I know she could be straight. 

I hear the doorbell ring, I know its her. My mom answers the door, as per usual. lets her in, then she comes up the stairs and up to my room where the door is already open for her to come in. “Hey” she greets me “almost the end huh? I bought some snacks on the way here, I remember last week you mentioned sour skittles to me so I figured I could try them with you.” “you remembered?” “Yeah, why wouldn't i? We are friends right? I mean with all the time we have spent on this project, i assumed we are friends” she looks confused, almost hurt? “Are we not friends” “we are, yeah” I flusteredly responded, panicking at the seemingly wounded look. She cracks a smile “i'm just messing with you,” she knocks my shoulder against hers as she sits down on my bed. “I think there's a storm coming soon actually” she says opening the shopping bag with the seemingly endless amount of snacks in it. “Kinda ironic don't you think?” I say to her, We get to work for the next couple of hours, sprinkling in some goofy moments between the two of us. She ends up having to stay over, The storm inhibiting her ability to go home. I look out the window, the rain looks as if it will never end. “You ever danced in the rain?” She sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder, observing the perspiration. “I did it once with an ex boyfriend of mine,” she adds to her previous comment. For some reason that last bit stung a little, like a scratch from a cat. “You had a boyfriend?” I ask genuinely curious. “I ended things with him since I figured out that i liked girls” “oh, i didnt know you liked girls.” I looked at her, Her hazel eyes looking back. “Do you like girls?” she questioned me. “Yeah, always have” I answered meekly. An idea came to me when she looked back out the window, I stood up. “Lets go out into the rain” I drag her closely behind me as we walk out the front door to my house, running out into the wet sky. I laugh at her standing confused in the doorway. “Dude come on” I actively try to convince her “you were the one that started talking about dancing in the rain” I open my mouth and let the almost salty droplets hit my tongue. “Eugh, dude, dont you know how disgusting rain water is” She runs out into the rain, fully embracing the uncomfortable wetness covering her body. I curtsy to her “Mi’ Lady would you care for a dance?” I say in a faux british accent. She giggles “Of course Mi’ Lady, a dance would be appreciated.” I bring her in, her waist in one hand and her own hand in the other. “Is this okay?” I yell over the sound of the water droplets hitting the ground. She nods, resting her head on my shoulder as we sway in the middle of the driveway. She looks up at me, searching my face for something. Looking down at my lips, then my eyes, then back at my lips again. “What?” I asked her “do i have something on my face?” She cups my cheeks, her warm thumb stroking my cheekbones. Before I can say another thing, she leans in, and kisses me. The Ivy that is guilt covering my heart slowly withers away, her hands leave my cheeks and caress the hair on the back of my neck. I pull her in closer, wrapping my arms around her body. A lightning crack makes us pull apart. “You seriously dont know how long ive been dreaming of this happening” I tuck my face into her soaking collar, she kisses my forehead. “How long?” she giggles, “1st grade, When i first moved here. And it trailed all the way here.” “damn i wasn't expecting that.” I blush. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” I call out over the rain. “Of course dumbass” She leans back in, coating my whole body in a warm honey feeling, The stars aligned for us to be.

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor | Extra Credits 02

Extra Credits 02: FRENCH

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female Anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: You give Eddie a French lesson.

WC: 2.9k

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI! This part isn't explicit, but the rest of the series is, so MDNI!! Fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal.

A/N: This takes place between Extra Credit 1 and Lesson 3. It’s an added extra to The Biology Tutor series.

My masterlist

Despite your best efforts to keep things cool, you and Eddie’s relationship at school has shifted.

Eddie will greet you with a cheery, “Heeey, Princess”, whenever you pass in the corridors, and you’ll sometimes give him a cheeky wave in the lunchroom. You both flush a little whenever your eyes lock, thinking about all the intimate stuff you’ve done together over the past days and weeks.

Thankfully, as yet none of your friends have noticed the way you’ve started to giggle a little more loudly at Eddie’s antics on the lunch tables, or the way he shoots you cheeky glances to check that you’re watching. Each of your social groups would likely have something disparaging to say, and you’d prefer to avoid that kind of attention for the time being.

You’ve become even more aware of your physical proximity in Biology class. Even though you could probably reach out and touch each other (and you would really, really like to do that…) you try not to draw too much attention to yourselves.

You’re finding it hard to keep your focus on the front, knowing that Eddie’s sitting inches away behind you. But you revel in the fact that he’s there at all (and is, in all likelihood, checking out your ass).

At the end of class, Mr Clarke calls you over.

“I wanted to thank you for your efforts regarding the private tutoring. Mr Munson’s work has certainly improved since you began, as has his class attendance, which is remarkable in and of itself. And he seems to have become more enthusiastic about the human biology aspect of the syllabus too, which is… unexpected, but really good to see.”

He looks off to one side, momentarily bemused, but recovers quickly and continues,

“Nevertheless, there is a big test coming up which, as you know, makes up a sizable proportion of your grade. I would very much like to see Mr Munson do well. I was hoping that you might help him prepare, and in the hopes that you’d agree, I’ve already booked private study room 2C in the library specifically for this purpose.”

You know the library well, and the one he’s describing is a particularly quiet one, located at the back of the rarely-used reference section. If you can get Eddie to join you, it’ll be the first time you’ve ever been alone with him at school. You experience a frisson of excitement at the thought.

You readily agree, figuring that even if that wasn’t reason enough, getting further in the good graces of Mr Clarke wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. However, you do think convincing Eddie to relinquish his entire lunchtime might be another matter entirely.

You approach him in the lunchroom, managing to get to him before his usual table fills up with nerds. He was initially aghast that you were anywhere near him, but once he realised nobody was really interested he listened to your proposal.

“You seriously do this shit voluntarily?” is his only response, until you mention, more quietly, how it would mean spending an entire hour in a small, isolated room. With you. Alone.

Suddenly, he’s all for it, packing up his stuff as you exit ahead of him. He extols the virtues of ‘accepting with grace the assistance the universe offers you’ to the smattering of confused Hellfire boys before hightailing it out of the hall, stuffing pretzels into his mouth as he goes.

You reach the study room first, and are already setting out books and pencils as Eddie barrels in. He practically skids to a halt, and ambles towards you, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to act nonchalant.

“Hey, Princess.”

He plops his bag onto the tabletop, and as he gestures to the empty seats next to you and across the table, he drops his voice to a lower timbre as he asks you,

“So, uh, where do you want me?”

Thanks to his mildly suggestive question, an image flashes across your mind of perching him, naked, on the edge of the table and climbing atop him, but you quickly shake it.

You tap your hand on the seat next to you, and he enthusiastically flops himself down in it. He sits up straight, clasping his hands in his lap, theatrically attentive.

As he’s already managed to fluster you, you decide to fluster him right back.

“You’re so good at doing what I tell you, Eddie. I like that.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush pink and he swallows hard. It worked.

It doesn't take long for you to go over the test questions. Eddie’s picked up more than he’d thought from the parts of your sessions where you’d actually studied, and he flies through most of it, only getting stuck on a couple of gnarly chemistry formulae. What’s more, he actually looks like he’s having fun, gaining genuine satisfaction from answering your questions correctly and beaming as you let him know,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

You can’t tell whether it’s the academic achievement, or the broad smiles and encouragement that you’re giving him, that’s his biggest driver, but at this point you’ll take either as a win.

You've gradually started sitting closer as the session has gone on. You’ve scootched to the edges of your seats, and your elbows and knees are gently knocking together. You can feel Eddie’s breath on your cheek as he jabs at his test total on your pad, screwing up his face and making a fist with his other hand in triumph. You’re genuinely thrilled for him, and not just because the very idea that you could be the reason for those gorgeous dimples popping makes your tummy flip.

Checking your watch, you realise you have a few minutes left before you have to leave, and there’s another new ‘skill’ that you’ve been thinking about trying with him.

Once all your supplies are back in your bag, you check the time again before asking,

“Eddie, would you like to try another quick practical session?”

He looks around the room, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs.

“What, here? Now?”

“Yes, but not like our, um, previous sessions. Something less… involved.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“Eddie, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but have you ever kissed anyone?”

He looks a little abashed as he answers,

“Umm, does kissing your relatives on the cheek count?”

You can’t help smiling at his cute admission.

“For the purposes of this discussion, I’m gonna say no.”

He looks self-conscious, maybe even a little ashamed. Staring at the edge of the table, he clears his throat before replying,

“Then, uh, no.”

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable, you reassure him,

“That’s okay, Eddie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

After a beat, you continue,

“Would you like to try it? With me?”

“What?”

“Would you like for us to kiss, Eddie?”

His eyes become locked on your mouth. He swallows audibly, eyes shining with want.

“Umm, yeah. Yes. Yes, I absolutely would, Princess.”

“Just so I know how far you want to go, would you like us to… French kiss?“

“You mean… W- with, y’know, tongue?”

“Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, you don’t have to…”

Shaking your head a little, you reassure him,

“I’m the one who suggested it, Eddie!”

He looks down at his hands, now clasped again as he rubs his thumbs together.

“Only if you’re sure. I might be awful at it.”

“Well, that’s why we practice, right? So, first of all, we need to get a little closer…”

You turn your seat so you’re facing him directly, encouraging him to do the same. You pull your seat forwards, slotting your knees between his. You see his eyes scanning your face, and his fingers fidget, suggesting he’s not really sure what to do with them.

“You can rest your hands on my legs if you’d like, Eddie.”

He does so, but not without a little trepidation, and you see him swallow again.

“Just relax. I’m not gonna bite you. Not this time, anyway.”

You give him what you hope is a cheeky smirk. He smiles shyly, not sure where to look when you’re this close to him. Nervously, he licks his lips. The sight makes your thighs clench.

“Close your eyes and relax, Eddie. I’m gonna start with a quick peck.”

“O- okaaaay.”

He does as you ask, and you spend a few moments appraising him before you lean into his space. He looks angelic, his wild curls framing his pretty face and his rosy pink lips looking soft and inviting.

You turn your head slightly so your nose will slide past his, close your eyes, and ever so slowly connect your lips with his. Pursing them a little, you press forwards, and you hear a slight intake of breath.

You said it was going to be quick, but you’re enjoying the feeling so much you relish in it for a few moments. Eddie’s lips are plump, warm, and just a little moist from where he’s licked them. A tiny amount of stubble tickles your top lip. He smells of old leather, some kind of spicy cologne and vanilla chapstick, with a hint of cigarettes and weed. It’s a heady scent you could easily get lost in.

Gathering yourself, you pull back, rolling your lips inwards to taste him.

Eddie still has his eyes closed. If you’re honest he looks like he’s about to faint. Even after all you’ve done together you’re still a little nervous, and you’re suddenly mortified that he found it repulsive.

You did remember to brush your teeth this morning, didn’t you? Did you eat garlic last night and forget? Do you have spinach in your teeth, even though you definitely haven’t eaten spinach in weeks??

“H- how was that, Eddie? Did you like it?”

Suddenly, his eyes pop open. His lips part a little and he nods his head quickly, causing his chestnut locks to bounce around his face. He stares at you for a few more moments before he manages to say in a tiny, cracking voice,

“More? Please?”

You smile widely, and lean in again.

This time you move a little, pursing and softening your lips, changing their position slightly to find out what he likes, slotting them in different places.

To your surprise, this time Eddie starts to kiss you back. His plump lips press against yours and the tiniest moan emanates from his chest. He’s tentative at first, but as he gains in confidence he presses a little harder, and moves a little more.

Your lips move in sync as you rhythmically purse and relax them.

Eddie exhales heavily, and more than a little shakily, through his nose, and you feel his warm breath dance across your face and décolletage.

You part from him with a subtle wet smack.

He swallows thickly, and the grip on your knees strengthens.

You smile at him again, and his eyes flick between yours as he mirrors your expression.

“Okay Eddie, if you’re ready, this time I’m gonna use my tongue. You don’t have to do anything, but if you want to, just do what feels good. Alright?”

Eddie gives you another tiny, fast nod, and you feel him squeeze your knees again.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready…”

He surprises you again as he shifts his hands slightly and slides them up your thighs, leaning into your space a little further. They feel warm, strong, and you can’t help but imagine how they might feel elsewhere.

What would it be like to hold his hand properly? Would his hand feel warm as it cupped your face? Would you be able to feel his rings? How would his calloused fingers feel running up your back, or across your…?

You’re broken from your thoughts as he closes his eyes again, a slight curl to his lips as he lets you know he’s ready.

You lean into his space again, and connect your lips as before. This time, you part your lips slightly and allow the tip of your tongue to poke out, and ever so gently brush across his lower lip. You hear that sharp intake of breath again as he stills, unsure of what he’s supposed to do, but then he parts his lips ever so slightly, and you slide your tongue past his lips and pearly teeth and into his mouth. You move it slowly, enjoying the feeling of his lips against it, the scrape of his teeth, the softness of his tongue beneath yours.

He moans again, and just as your tongue curls up to tickle the roof of his mouth suddenly his tongue is moving against yours, slowly, reverently, experimentally, and another moan leaves his chest.

His grip on your thighs tightens as he gets bolder, eventually pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth.

Abruptly, he turns his head slightly and pushes in more deeply, his tongue almost filling you. He’s insistent yet gentle, and now it’s your turn to gasp - he’s good at this - and a low whine leaves you.

You feel a chill on your legs as Eddie’s hands leave them, and you’re momentarily disappointed, but this rapidly turns into delighted surprise when one comes up to cup the back of your neck, the other grabbing the edge of your chair and pulling you closer towards him. He’s moaning continually now, turning his head to try different angles, licking and curling and sucking like you’re the very air he needs to breathe.

He’s pushing hard but not too hard, and when your teeth knock it’s adorable rather than uncomfortable.

It’s wet and messy, and oh, so fucking hot.

Your hands start travelling almost of their own accord, slipping up inside his jacket, sliding around his rib cage and settling on his surprisingly muscular back.

His hand travels up to your hair, mussing it, and you’re making his shirt ride up, but you couldn’t care less, lost in the sensations of your lips melding and tongues dancing.

There’s a pulsing heat in your core, and a wetness building in your underwear. You don’t think you've ever been this turned on just from kissing.

And how on Earth is Eddie so good at it?

You eventually both pull back, needing air, breathy and inhaling deeply.

Your eyes dance around his face, wanting to take it all in. His plump, kiss-bitten lips, his blown pupils, the way he’s looking at you with a stunned half-smile.

Needing a break from the intensity, you drop your eyes. But almost wish you hadn’t when you spot the obvious bulge in the front of Eddie’s pants.

He’s clearly enjoyed this as much as you have.

Just as you’re both leaning forward for another round, lips just brushing, the harsh and loud ringing of the school bell indicates the start of afternoon classes.

You and Eddie break apart with a start, exchanging breathy smiles, both a little surprised at how well that went.

He chuckles as he lets go of your hair, tidying it as best he can, and you pull down the hem of his shirt to straighten it.

”So, uh, I think I’d consider that lesson a success. Wouldn’t you, Mr Munson?”

He huffs out a little giggle, shaking his head slowly. His brow furrows and he fixes his face into as serious an expression as he can manage, as he dips his chin and replies,

“Oh, Princess, that feels like a great start. But you know, lessons work with me. So, just to be on the safe side, I think I might need a whole lot, lot more practice...”

He’s holding your gaze and nodding, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips for emphasis.

You nearly snort at his brazenness, constantly amazed at how he so easily flips between abject fear and bolshy confidence, and manage to squeak out,

“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can arrange, won’t we?”

He grins at you again, those dimples even deeper this time, and tidies one more strand of hair at your temple.

Reluctantly, you both gather your things and leave the study room, still with shiny lips and heat in your cheeks.

You walk leisurely, your upper arms brushing, through the racks of dusty tomes. Neither of you is in any particular hurry to get to your next class.

You glance to your side, and notice that Eddie seems bigger, taller. He’s puffing his chest and is carrying himself a little differently. You like it.

He turns to you as he asks, “D’you think we should, y’know, leave separately or whatever?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Awkward questions, and all that.”

You see Eddie’s eyes glance to the floor, then flit to the section containing the large encyclopaedias and dictionaries, before he adds,

“You know what, you go first. There’s something I want to check out in the reference section anyway…”

He flashes you a wink as you round the door jamb, causing something to revolve in your chest as you step out into the corridor. You definitely want to offer Eddie plenty of opportunities to practice this particular new skill.

As you head off to your next class, you wonder what on earth he could be up to. But more than that, you wonder how he’ll react to what you have in mind for your next study session…

Series masterlist

Prev: Lesson 1: Female anatomy | Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Extra Credits 01: Communication Skills Next: Independent Study 01: Art | Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Thanks so much for reading!

Remember, writers thrive on your comments and reblogs, so if you liked this little extra please show some love 💕

A/N 2: I added this as an extra because I wanted Eddie and reader to share a special first kiss, but couldn’t work out how to fit it into the main Lessons without making them ridiculously long. I hope you like it!

The taglist for this series is open whilst it’s ongoing, and I have a general one now too - just let me know if you’d like to join either 😀 My masterlist, where you’ll find more Eddie and Steddie fics

Taglist (open whilst this series is ongoing): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie

[moonsaver]

do you have any nsfw hc thoughts for ratio?

also, i believe you could definitely deliver an amazing royal au series, im totally sat for it!

Hello, thank you anon! Im still figuring things out on the royal au, haha. I might need to modify my writing style for it? But im not so sure. Hope it'll go well once I'm done, though.

Nsfw below the cut!

Dr. Ratio isn't someone who's an absolute brute, or a rough-sex freak in my opinion. He has a fair balance between rough and fast paced, and sensual, slow lovemaking.

Id say he's into overstimulation, edging, degradation, and a tad bit of dumbification.

Normally, I'd say he's into tying you down. Silk ropes are his favorite go-to. He usually does it before a shared bathtime, massaging products into your body acting as foreplay before bathing together. He teases you so much, hands slowly massaging your boobs as you shudder, his thumb rubbing your tits glistening with the product, eyeing the twitching of your body.. his hands work effortlessly into massaging and relaxing your body, squeezing and rubbing your butt, thighs, and clicking his tongue in faux irritation as he sees your arousal drip, fingers only edging and massaging the oil or lotion around your lips, eyes fixed onto your eager little clit. Stay still, for goodness' sake, he says.

Fingering is also a part of foreplay. His fingers are a bit rough, despite how often he uses skincare, and they provide extra friction whenever he's scissoring your cunt relentlessly. He taunts you just how eagerly you're sucking up his fingers, thumb massaging your swollen clit, as his eyebrows furrow in concentration. He's a bit sloppy, but fast and slightly rough, hitting every sensitive spot inside of you perfectly. Doesn't stop even after you've come, you can babble and cry for all he cares.

As for penetration – he's averagely sized, but girthy. His cum is also kind of thick, slightly creamy, and has a note of saltiness. He stretches you out well, groaning a bit into your ear when you eagerly welcome him. Likes coming inside of you. Especially when he's rough, immediately pulls out the moment he cums and finger-fucks it back into your cunt, clicking his tongue when it keeps spilling out of you, and decides it's better to just fuck another batch into your swollen cunt, telling you to stay quiet and just take it.

Not a fan of oral receiving – as much of a turn off as it sounds, he's probably versed in reproductive biology and doesn't quite like the idea of you swallowing his cum, and neither does he really feel comfortable with him in your mouth.

Giving however, is welcomed an average amount. He teases and edges you so much it drives you insane. He keeps you tied down, as mentioned before, and his fingers drag along your slit, watching your thighs twitch and hips buck, frustration and desperation building inside of you. At some point, he uses it as an excuse to just overstimulate you. Fine, you want him that badly? He'll eat you out until you can't think like you wanted him to. And does exactly that. Leaves you an incoherent mess, your slick dripping down his chin, spread on the inside of your thighs.

Not too noisy in bed. A few grunts here and there, heavy, husky breathing, and groans whenever he comes inside, and his general dirty talk. He would prefer you to be a bit vocal, though. He does want to hear how good he's making you feel, and he feels proud whenever he makes you moan loudly, especially if you're on the quieter end.

Aftercare is soft. He kisses your shoulder, neck, and gently settles you into the bath. Makes small talk with you, and has you relax against his chest, one hand rubbing any part of your body that might be sore, and filling the noise by talking about one or the other thing.

[bullet-prooflove]

Final Words: Kayce Dutton

Tagging: @kmc1989 @midnightheat @queenslandlover-93 @littledreamer9211 @spooky-librarian-ghost @atomic-art-dragon @sleepystoner326 @themarvelousmaks

Nobody talks about the year that Lee went missing.

Kayce doesn’t even know about it until he finds the stack of journals tucked away underneath a broken floorboard he’s trying to fix. The damn thing has been creaking ever since he moved into this place and it’s starting to drive him just a little crazy. When he pulls up the panel he doesn’t expect to see the collection of black Moleskine notebooks, each one thick with dust. It’s when he pulls out the first one and starts flicking through the yellowed pages that he realises that they belong to his deceased brother. He had no idea that Lee kept a journal, that he had since he was sixteen years old.

He spends the next couple of hours sat in front of the fire with a glass of bourbon, reading through them in chronological order. The first one is about normal school shit, he describes the pretty girl who sits in front of him in Lit, how she lent him a pen when he forgot his own. They end up being partners in Biology and over the next few months Kayce reads about how his brother falls in love with Anna-May, how he promised to marry her one day.

It's insight into his brother he had absolutely no clue about. There’s was ten year age gap between him and Lee. Whilst he was secretly applying to colleges, Kayce was ten years old making up songs about each of the horses in the stables, trying to figure out what words rhymed with sugarcube.

It all turns to shit when Lee announces he’s going to Berkley. He details the conversation between him and their father, the refusal to pay the tuition. Lee couldn’t apply for financial aid because of their circumstances so his dream was dead in the water before it even had a chance to get off the ground. He helps Anna-May pack her things and sends her off to California alone while he takes his rightful place at the Yellowstone.

It’s for the best, he writes, it’s not fair to put the burden of the ranch on Jamie and Kayce.

It’s a six months later that their mom dies in a riding accident and Lee accidently causes a wildfire that takes out a couple of pastures on the Eastern side of the farm.

I can’t stand this numbness anymore, it feels like I can barely breathe anymore. I need to see her.

He takes off to California a week later, in a truck stolen from the ranch. He drives it all the way up to Berkley, where he wants for Anna-May outside of her dorm. When she finally lays eyes on her, he doesn’t get out of the truck because she’s with another man, his arm slung over her shoulders as he whispers sweet nothings in her ear.

I told her to move on, Lee writes. I just didn’t realise how much it would hurt when she did.

He doesn’t come home after that, he spends the next year travelling from state to state, picking up seasonal work, he’s been in Maine for three months, chopping wood when his father finally catches up with him.

In that moment I realised there was nothing for me but that ranch, my future had been set in stone from the minute I was born, what was the point in trying to fight it anymore?

It breaks Kayce’s heart because he can feel Lee’s exhaustion emanating through the pages. His brother takes the brand that night as punishment for abandoning his responsibilities. The acknowledgement of his failure is seared upon his skin, the same way it had been upon Kayce’s.

It’s three in the morning when he finally gets to the last one, the mood starts to shift, the tone changing. Anna-May had stepped back into Lee’s life and it was like his entire world had erupted into colour again, it’s only then that Kayce realises how depressed his brother had been throughout the years. He’d hidden it well on the surface but the reality of it is etched into each of these journals.

It's when he gets to the final pages of the one he’s reading that the sonogram falls out into Kayce’s lap, his breath catches in his throat as his gaze lingers on the last few words that Lee ever wrote.

 It’s become clearer over the past couple of days that we can’t stay here at the ranch. I see the way that my father is with Tate and I know he’s already being prepared for a role he has no awareness of. I don’t want that for my son, I don’t want that for Kayce’s son. I want them both to have the choices we didn’t, to live the way they want, to be the people they want to be.

It's then that Kayce sees the truth about Lee, the weight that sat on his shoulders, day in and day out, suffocating him. It’s the same one that sits on his own because Kayce, he thought this is what Lee would have wanted, someone to take up the role, to fulfil that legacy. He’s been killing himself to trying to honor a dead man’s wishes only to discover those weren’t his wishes at all, they were those of his father, the man that’s currently grooming his son to be the next in line for the throne.

It's that night that Kayce packs his bags.

He’s leaving Yellowstone and he’s taking his son with him.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cowboy-queer]

I don't know how big the overlap of Ace Attorney and Star Trek fans is (probably not that small), but I don't think I've ever seen an AU for it. SO I wanted to share my ideas

Phoenix, Larry, and Gumshoe are human, Edgeworth I think is half-Vulcan with Gregory as his human father.

I was thinking the von Karmas are Romulan. Manfred would find it a fantastic experiment to raise a Vulcan with Romulan philosophies. Then again, having Manfred be a corrupting force within the Federation and by extention Starfleet is also intriguing.

My first instinct for the Feys was to say Betazoid, but I think Trucy and Apollo fit that better. I think having Maya being a joined Trill carrying Mia's symbiont is kind of perfect. I imagine there would be a situation similar to Verad with Dahlia briefly stealing the Fey simbiont. Maya would struggle with adjusting to an unplanned joining, and she and Phoenix would have a very Sisko-Jadzia friendship. Also Susato would be a former host :3

The Gramaryes would be Betazoid, and Thalassa travels off world and falls in love with Jove (either Human or Bajoran). After a tragic accident, she moves back to Betazed and marries Zak (Betazoid also), having Trucy. Apollo is raised on Bajor briefly, but smuggled off world during the Cardassian occupation/a religio-political upheaval. (Bajor would clearly parallel Khura'in, so by extent the Sadmadhis would be Bajoran).

Athena is an android created by Metis, probably also a Betazoid? She made a child with Betazoid biology in mind, so Athena is somehow also an empath.

Cardassian Blackquills just make complete sense to me. You could make an argument for Klingon as well, but Cardassians having an emphasis on fixed outcomes in trials and women being expected to excel in STEM is perfect for them.

Simon takes the blame for Metis' murder to protect Athena from being deactivated, fracturing the relationship between Cardassia and the Federation. The Phantom is a Changeling, or a collection of Changelings, which furthers the mistrust between people in the Federation and stokes conflict.

Now hear me out about Vulcan Gavin. Kristoph strives to be the epitome of a Logical, Emotionless Vulcan while Klavier is V'tosh Ka'tur and enjoys Human culture quite a bit. Neither one subscribe to Surak's teachings but in opposite directions. Kristoph thinks he's above Surak's teachings, hates the IDIC, and believes underhanded tactics are the most logical way to succeed in life.

It being a Star Trek AU means that most of the characters should be in Starfleet, but for some reasons that's harder for me to figure out. I really hesitate to make Phoenix a captain, maybe he's a chief officer of something. Athena would be Science Blue, Phoenix Command Red, and Apollo Engineering Yellow. Mia was his superior officer until she was killed in action, leading to Maya needing to become a host for the symbiont before she was ready.

I'd make Edgeworth either a Commander/Captain in charge of a station or working as an Admiral at Starfleet Command on Earth. The other prosecutors would likely be doing the same. There would be a whole uncovering of corrupt Starfleet officials, including Lana and Gant. Ema would go to Starfleet to become a Science Officer, and either have to switch to Security or not get the assignment she wanted.

Lmk what you think, if you have any opinions about my ideas or ideas for characters I didn't cover!

[stargazer-sims]

First Visitor

Nora: Your place is great, Forest.

Forest: Thanks. You know, I feel like I should be mad about my dads kicking me out, but I'm kinda not. I like it here so far.

Nora: What's not to like? This is a nice little spot, and you've got your freedom. No annoying siblings, nobody yelling at you or telling you what to do.

Forest: Nobody yelled at me at home either.

Nora: But the other stuff still applies.

Forest: Yeah, and now I can finally be myself. Know what I mean?

Nora: I do know what you mean. And you know what? I'll bet a lot of people are super envious of you right now for getting out and finally being free.

Forest: You think so?

Nora: Totally.

Forest: Like who?

Nora: People who are dying to move out 'cause they're sick of their parents' bullshit. Who needs a curfew, or your parents being all weird about who you date? I do what I want, and Cody doesn't care who I invite over to our place.

Forest: Cody's your boyfriend?

Nora: Not really. Students can't have a teacher as their boyfriend. Another stupid rule, but I don't want him to get fired, so...

Forest: He's a teacher?

Nora: Yeah. You know Mr. MacAllister? The guy that's on his work placement from uni? It's him, but he's only going to be at our school until December, and then he's going back to university in January to finish his program. He's like my roommate with... secret benefits, you could say.

Forest: Benefits? You mean, like, you slept with him?

Nora: Why do you look so shocked? Don't tell me you and Caroline never did it.

Forest: We didn't, actually.

Nora: Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Caroline is obsessed with rules. Her parents probably told her she wasn't allowed and she just blindly followed along. Uh... no pun intended.

Forest: No, I don't think her parents told her she wasn't allowed. She said she didn't want to, and I respected that.

Nora: If she said she did want to, would you have done it?

Forest: Probably. Like, I don't really know how, but we would've figured it out, right? Camellia and Hayden did, and I'm pretty sure Caroline's friend Rainbow has too. Like, a lot, 'cause she's always talking about it.

Nora: I heard a rumour that Rainbow did it in the janitor's room with some alien guy. Not that I blame her. The risk of getting caught makes it so much more exciting.

Forest: Did you ever do it in there?

Nora: Not yet. I'm waiting for the right person to come along.

Forest: Such as?

Nora: Maybe you, if you're up for it.

Forest: I already told you, I don't know how.

Nora: That's not a problem. I can teach you a few things, but it mostly comes naturally anyway, once you get started.

Forest: I kinda want to, but...

Nora: I'll bet Caroline's gonna do it with her new boyfriend. You don't want her to get ahead of you, do you?

Forest: If she wouldn't do it with me, I doubt she'd do it with Ben.

Nora: Seriously? Have you seen him? She probably just didn't want to do it with you because she wanted some jock. You know how athletes are. Totally obsessed with perfection.

Forest: Do you really think that's it?

Nora: Of course it is. You didn't live up to her expectations, so she kicked you to the curb like trash. Now me, on the other hand... I'm interested in getting to know you for who you are, and I can really appreciate a soft body too. Men like you are way more cuddly then guys like Ben.

Forest: You think I'm a man?

Nora: Unless there's something you're not telling me, or I missed too many biology classes.

Forest: It's not that. It's just that it makes me sound grown up.

Nora: Well, you are independent now, aren't you? How many little boys do you know who're living on their own?

Forest: Good point.

Nora: Ooh... I just thought of something!

Forest: What?

Nora: We should go to the Harvest Dance together. Imagine how mad Caroline will be when she sees you having a good time and not moping around because she broke up with you.

Forest: You really want to go to the dance with me?

Nora: Why wouldn't I?

Forest: You never seemed interested in me before. Like that, I mean. Like a boyfriend.

Nora: I didn't want to be accused of trying to steal my cousin's boyfriend, did I? I could hardly have asked you out while you still had Caroline hanging onto you, but we don't have that problem any more. Now I can have you all to myself.

Forest: All this time, you really wanted to ask me out?

Nora: Mm-hmm. So, will you go to the dance with me?

Forest: I wasn't planning to go, but yeah. Now that I officially have a date, why not?

Nora: Great. I already have the perfect dress.

Forest: What's it like?

Nora: Let me keep that a surprise, but I think you'll appreciate it. It hugs all my curves.

Forest: So, like most of your normal clothes, then?

Nora: You've noticed.

Forest: Kinda hard not to, honestly. You do get dress-coded a lot.

Nora: Stupid dress code. Teachers just don't understand freedom of expression. If you've got something to show off, you should be allowed to show it off. That's what I think. School has too many dumb rules.

Forest: If you don't like it, why are you still in school? You're on your own, so you could quit if you wanted to, right?

Nora: I could, but if I didn't go to school, how would I get my daily entertainment? High school is way better than any soap opera.

Forest: Is it really worth the hassle, though? I'm kind of thinking about quitting. My boss at the pizza shop would probably give me full-time hours if I was available.

Nora: If you do it, let me know and I'll quit with you. We could get a place together, and we could do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.

Forest: I don't know if that's really a good pl—

Nora: Shh... no more serious talk. You need to learn some stuff before we go out together.

Forest: Is this okay? Shouldn't there be like, consent or whatever?

Nora: I consent. If you consent too, we're good. Besides, it's just kissing. It's not like we're taking each other's clothes off or something. I mean, not that I don't want to take your clothes off you, but...

Forest: I don't want anyone to take their clothes off.

Nora: It's cool. We can save that for another time. Now, show me your skills and stop worrying.

Forest: *whispering* Is this good?

Nora: You're a quick study.

Forest: Thanks.

Nora: I never would've guessed this is your first time kissing a girl.

Forest: It's technically not my first time. I've kissed Caroline on the cheek a few times.

Nora: You're adorable, Forest.

Forest: Is that a good thing?

Nora: *laughing*

Nora: I'd better get going, but I'll come back tomorrow if you want, or you can come over to my place.

Forest: I'd like to come over to your place, if that's okay.

Nora: Awesome. I can't wait to show you around. It's not a very big apartment, but I have an amazing bedroom. I think you'll really like it.

[royalwriteroftheuniverse]

The Day Steve Rogers Died

Chapter 1 im

(Not sure if ill continue it. This is the first thing I've written in a long time havent written )

Warnings: sad, fluff mentions of dead 18+ just incase as always. I hate the way endgame ended so i made my own version

Everyone thinks a super soikder means you cant get drunk you age at 1/3 of the rate because your cells create this protective regeneration if healing- but you do age and while yiu cant get drunk you can still get shot and while you can heal the same basics of human biology are at play. You need oxygen to live and yes h20 is an oxygen molecule. And you still need blood volume for a blood pressure and sometimes being able to heal doesn't mean you can heal fast enough.

Everyone has this romatic idea of steve. Some in the avegers were told he went back to make things right and stayed to live the life or a life he would have or might have lead of he didnt sign up.. for the wars. The general public was told that he died during the lqst fight with Thanos. But the truth was it was somewhere in between.

Maybe i shouldn't've maybe i should just tell everyone the truth heh. Steve was different. People forget he was in the war. He wasn't vain, but he knew how much he meant to people. If i had just one wish, it would be that he realized he owed nothing to anyone except himself. That he didn't feel he needed to carry the burdon not just alone but not at all. But he became a symbol of hope.

Hope it's so resiliant so pure hope can be kept alive with the tiniest bit of kindling. With just the tinniest bit hope, the proper hope, the kind thst inspires people sleep, doesn't rest and for the first time in a long time he was. ... the funny thing about hope is that sometimes, once it's shattared, those pieces can't be pjlut back like a puzzle. It's more like a mirror mo matter how hard you try putting it back together. There's always a piece of missing the smallest chip, and the mirror is never flawless again. No matter how many times i try and smile the crack and the chips are still there.

Steve, he, he didnt always know when to put the sword down. For him if this was evil in the world well the season wasnt over. And loke many acomplish athletes you learn at a young age that if you want to succeed and you are good at your position youre bkt gurt until the seqson was over. And for Steve the season laster for than 70s years.

He didnt know when to tap put when to ask for help.

He thought he was fine. He thought hed recover just like last time and he......

He told me he got looked at. I stopped counting the bruises when it reached 30 just on his arm. But i didnt lose ttack. But he, like a "good" atheleate who wanted to play he kep his shirt on so i didnt or couldt. To tell yoy the truth ill never know but i wouldve been the only one he would take his shirt off around and he didnt and i never saw the bruse that just didnt seem to get better. I wish i could say this was over a matter of months or even weeks. But no. It was days. Days and i knew steve better than that I shou-I should've i sisted kn i dont know something. I figured the man tired he has avribes and cuts and brusies and he wasnt always one to just no wear a shirt so...

But that doesnt change the ending. All the excuses in the world couldn't change the fact that he lost too much blood on the field and in his body. A small leak in his lung lettingit deflate just didnt repair fast enough, the the tear in an aorta in his stomach and he bled into him just took it took a aecond to long to heal.

Amd the day ateve rogers fell, well this man doesnt do anything hlafway. But the world knows that. He was dead not becausee of anything else but no blood pressure he just didnt have enough blood. But his ceels still.. they still worked.

When they did the autopsy his ceels wwre still working to heal the hole he bleed out from......after all they say energy isn't created... or destroyed

I dont know if steve wven knew maybe he thought it was the same thing that happened maybe ti frlt the same and he just never thought he was going to collapse un the one second of weakness where the rubberball didnt bounce, the rubberband broke. He only got half of my name out of his mouth before he collapsed. Barely a vowel, barely a consonant, and my world vanished without even a whole word being spoken.

Tag list

Taglist (if you want to be added let me know)

@nana1000night @sapphirerogers @hawkeyes-queen @patzammit @sparklybarbarianninja

[broadwaybalogna]

send prompts it is!!

because I just finished a math test and need my blorbos to suffer with me, let's have zutara in a modern au where they take a math test together! 😊

one of them would have a pretty low score and fluff and comfort ensues

(i hope I pass)

I’ve literally been waiting all night for another prompt to pop into my inbox and this is so cute omg!!!

Have I ever said how much I love modern Zutara? Because I LOVE modern Zutara.

Also- I hope you pass your test! Sending all luck your way~

Oh yeah, before I start this. I would like to reiterate that I am an American. Apparently different counties have different ways of grading but for me an A is a 90-100, a B is an 80-90 and a C is around a 70-80. D is 64 up and F is anything below. Just thought I should point that out before I begin.

Zuko moved out of his dad’s house when he was fifteen. Well, more like he was kicked out and he displayed little to no reluctance to leave. After his mother had left, he had little hope of seeing his father redeem himself.

But Zuko found that old habits died hard. Because even though his uncle was one of the most caring people he had ever met, there was still this overwhelming anxiety Zuko felt when he did something wrong. Especially in school.

In Zuko’s experience, school was the easiest way for Ozai to control Zuko. He spent most of his nights either studying or hiding, only ever leaving his room for dinner. His father checked his grades twice a day (he had figured out Zuko’s school username and password) to make sure Zuko was on top of everything. So when Zuko moved, his mentality regarding school didn’t change, even if his environment had.

He found himself still cooped up in his room reading through books, skipping meals, and solving equations well into the night.

That changed when he met Katara.

Katara was what many people called a “nerd”. But she still looked pretty so she didn’t get teased nearly as much as she would’ve had she not been. Katara, like Zuko, aced tests and projects. However, Katara, unlike Zuko, was an enthusiastic learner. She would raise her hand every chance she got in class to answer a question or ask for clarification. She even sometimes corrected their teachers on their mistakes. Needless to say, Zuko gave her a lot of side eyes.

They didn’t have very many classes together, especially since she was a grade below his, but she had been moved up to Zuko’s Math, English, and Physics classes. She apparently also took on level Biology which made Zuko’s head spiral.

At first, they barely spoke a word to one another. But once acknowledging each others academic achievements, they began so talk every so often during free time in classes. Katara would often be working on something for another class while they talked, though. Zuko still found it relaxing. Although she enjoyed it more, she still understood the pressures of school and the mental spirals it would put people through.

One thing led to another and they began studying together as well. Zuko couldn’t really help her with Biology (it was an elective. Seriously, who takes a core class as an elective??) but they exchanged notes and shortcuts for other classes. Zuko was able to give her a lot of tips on writing papers for English since he had a politician for a father (finally, Ozai was good for something).

Katara was a beast at math, though. She tackled each problem like it was common sense. Since it was a higher level, she was still challenged, but not nearly as much as other kids in their class were. It was no wonder Katara also took physics, the science that revolves around math.

The one thing she struggled with was history. Zuko learned very early into their friendship that Katara was absolute ass at memorizing anything. The only way she was able to memorize formula’s was because she would repeat them over and over throughout study sessions until it drove them both insane. So Zuko found himself helping her most with that subject.

One night, when a study session ran much longer than it should’ve, Iroh suggested she stay with the two of them for the night. That was her first and most notably, not last, sleepover at Zuko’s. Actually, it was the furthest thing from her last. It became part of their routine for her to stay over once or twice a week to keep studying. Iroh tried to get them to relax and take breaks every so often, which they did, but most of their time was spent either studying or talking.

Then even more of their time was spent talking.

Then a really good portion of their time was spent going on walks midday and talking.

And Zuko enjoyed it so much. He seriously enjoyed just being able to breathe. He felt genuenly free when he was with Katara, studying or not.

But both Zuko and Katara soon realized that prioritizing their mental health over school had consequences.

It had been time for their unit test in math, a test both of them had forgotten to study for the night before. Zuko mentally beat himself up over and he could see Katara out of the corner of his eye drop her head onto her desk.

They were so screwed.

Or, well, just Zuko was screwed. Turned out that Katara’s ‘mathematical Common sense formulas’ came in handy and get her an 79% on the test. Although she had never gotten a grade below an 85 in the class, she still let out a sigh when she checked her grade in her phone.

“Are they out?” Zuko asked, already pulling out his phone to check his own grade.

“Yeah. Ugh, I’m so screwed. Sit brought down my semester grade to a 89.”

“That big of a jump? I thought you had a 96 earlier?”

“This was worth a lot of points. I feel so stupid.”

Katara continued to ramble but Zuko tuned her out as he looked at his grade from the light below him.

61.

He pursed his lips and closed his eyes, convinced that it was all a hallucination.

“Nine was a hellscape and- hey, are you okay?” He heard Katara say as he looked back down to his phone.

61.

It was still there, staring at him, no, laughing at him from the grade-book. Zuko felt like he could hear his father’s voice yelling at him, lecturing him over the horrifying careers that lie ahead of him based on this one mistake.

“Zuko? Can you hear me?”

Could he hear her? For some reason, he didn’t know how to answer.

“Iroh! Something’s going on with Zuko!” That was the last thing Zuko registered before he felt his chest heave and his mind race.

When Zuko could finally register the things around him again, he was in his bed laying down. He turned to his side and saw Katara pacing in his bedroom.

“Kat?”

“Zuko! Oh my god, toh scared the bejesus out of me! Are you okay? Do you need me to get you a water?”

“That would be nice.”

“Good, because I already got you one.” Katara tached over to Zuko’s bedside table and passed him a cup of water. Classic Katara, always being one step ahead. “Iroh said you had a panic attack. I assume it was over- um…” Zuko thought back to what had happened. Right.

“Yeah, my bad.”

“Oh no! Not your bad! In no way is this your bad, Zuko! This is your shitty father’s bad- no- your shitty father’s worst,” she corrected herself.

“Hmm,” he hummed.

“Zuko,” Katara finally said, lowering her voice and finally becoming more calm, “I don’t really know much about your relationship with your dad- or school. But it was so nice seeing you actually happy and talking these past few days. It really put things into perspective for me. I realize that I’ve been studying so much all the time, that I never thought about how it affected you. I’m sorry.”

“What? No, don’t be sorry. My relationship with school is.. complicated at best, but in no way is any of it your fault,” he sat up to face Katara, “but I have realized how much more I like being free. I just need to find a balance.”

“Could I- could I help you find it?” Katara asked after a short moment has passed.

“I’d love that.”

They both smiled and Katara engulfed Zuko in a soul-crushing hug. Zuko’s heart did a little flip and he let out a sigh.

He liked this.

He also might like Katara.

He was happy with those conclusions.

It’s 1am and I have state testing tomorrow (today??) so GOODNIGHT!

[uniasus]

Since I'm now making the epilogue of Splinter longer and scrapping my original start, here's what I had originally wrote. As a treat.

--------

Damian rushes out of his lecture hall and toward xxxx, eager to return to Danyal’s side. After so long being denied the ability to be a big brother, first due to the League’s restriction and then because of their separation, Damian leans into the role hard. He relishes every second he spends with Danyal, and ignores Grayson’s cackles about Damian’s mother henning.

Danyal is at the same table he’d been where Damian left him before his biology 213 lecture, muttering as he writes in a notebook. He’d missed so much school his only way to graduate on time was online classes, classes Damian was proud to see his brother do well in. Turns out, his dismal school record was due to priotizing ghost attacks, and Masters rarely let ghosts use his portal.

Damian pauses to stare at his baby brother. When he’d gotten his first glimpse at the gala last Christmas, the only thing he registered was familiar blue eyes. And when he’d seen his brother’s ghost form, with snow white hair and concerned frown and insistence on saving Damian, he worried. The jerky movements of his brother being controlled by Master made Damian angry, but his heart had broken at the state Danyal had been when they made the deal with Masters. Covered in blood and frost, thin wrists and tiny waist.

Neither his ghost or human half had been healthy – a natural consequences of his core breaking or another way Masters made him dependent, Damian doesn’t know. January had been spent shoving food and ectoplasm down Danyal’s gullet until he first gained weight and then gained muscle. Being in Madison had helped, being so close to a portal is good for his anki’s health.

Did Damian miss Gotham? Yes. Transfering from Gotham University to Wisconsin University meant giving up patrolling as Robin, at least temporarily. It would be too strange for Robin to be seen in Madison, and it had been an adjustment, moving from his dorm to an apartment off campus. Damian never realized how surrounded by others he’d lived his life – by assassins and trainees at Nanda Parbat, by the Waynes and accessories at the Manor, by various freshmen at the dorm. A large apartment in a three-flat, housing just him and Danyal but space for rotating guests, had felt so empty at first.

Did Damian regret moving to Madison? No. For the first time, both him and Danyal could be normal teens. Their main priorities are school and figuring out what was for dinner. There’s no rogues to hunt down. No injuries to nurse. No paparazzi to escape. Madison, and campus, are safe.

Danyal makes a face, scrolling down the page on his laptop. His face is too scrunched up in frustration to be working on science. History then, or maybe English. His brother had been complaining about The Scarlet Letter recently.

[pilot-boi]

Sorry in advance, but I have, like, 3 questions about your Man Out of Time AU. 🙏🏽

1.) Since Jaune is Gallifreyan in this, how far back is he sent in the Ever After?

Time Lords really only regenerate when their bodies are about to die, but old age would take significantly MUCH longer. Would he be there for decades? Centuries? Millennia?

2.) How many times has he regenerated in the Ever After?

3.) How does the Tree/Cat feel about his existence if his own biology already naturally does what ascension (the Tree’s purpose) is supposed to do?

Again, so sorry 😔 🙏🏽 . I just love the idea of this AU since I’m a huge Doctor Who fan.

I’m glad you’re liking this AU!! I really like this concept, and I’m always appreciative when people like my ideas. So there’s really no need to apologize, I love getting asks like this :]

I’m a fan of Doctor Who as well (no dip) but a pretty casual one. I pretty much only watch the show, and just as a normal fan. Eleven is my favourite, I love that goofy guy who looks young but is actually ancient. He also feels SO ace to me, and I love him

1. Hmm. Well it’s certainly further back than he’s sent in canon, since Gallifreyans seem to age at a much slower rate. So it would take much longer than twenty years for Jaune to reach Rusted Knight looking age. He wouldn’t be there for millennia, but I am thinking at LEAST a century. Which of course doesn’t do anything to help his mental health

2. He regenerates only once in the Ever After, when Alyx poisons him. (Eleven to Twelve) We joke about the Ever After being a dangerous place, but it really isn’t. The only threat in the whole dimension is the Jabberwalker, and it’s only a threat because everyone who lives there is a civilian. It’s no danger to a Huntsman, so he wouldn’t have been close to dying any other time

3. The Blacksmith (Tree) doesn’t care. Her purpose is to heal, not necessarily to ascend. Ascension is just the most effective way the Ever After HAS to heal people. The Blacksmith just wants to heal people, she doesn’t much care HOW the people heal. That’s why she doesn’t force Ruby to ascend, she just wants her to choose what’s best for her

The Cat is DEEPLY interested in Jaune’s whole deal. The Knight can tell them about Remnant AND a whole galaxy of other planets! They figure out pretty early on that their “have a piece of my heart” power doesn’t work as effectively on Jaune because he has two hearts, and that is DEEPLY interesting

They don’t find out that Jaune can “ascend” while not actually ascending until after Alyx and Lewis. And as someone with a recently broken heart and spirit, that is DEEPLY interesting

[thewildsophia]

.For When I Don't Rember My Beloved. WordGirl//Dr. Two-Brains

Dr. Two-Brains/Steven Boxleitner x Reader

Word Count: 4130

"Read More" placed due to length

The henchmen Charlie and “Meatloaf” were the first to aid Dr. Two Brains in the cheese-centric havoc he rained over Fair City. Dr. Two Brains was a strange man, to say the least, but he was weird in an endearing way…ehh, kinda. But you must have thought so too since you were soon to join him, being recruited just a few days after them. 

It was strange really. One day you didn’t exist to them and the next Dr. Two Brains was strolling you into the lair stating that you would be his first in command and that they should report to you. Oh well, there's not much they can do otherwise.

At least you were nice enough. You didn’t yell and berate them like the doctor would — quite the opposite. You were kind and reasonable to them, never placing unattainable expectations on them. You were slow to anger, but they may catch you in a foul mood on a particularly awful day. Overall, you were very normal, very sane, and nothing like their boss which confused them so much about your sudden employment. Yet oddly enough you never told them your name, opting to have them address you as “Commander.” They’re not even sure they’ve heard Dr. Two Brains call you by your name either.

They figured the doctor valued you more than the actual henchmen since you were also a doctor yourself. You didn’t speak much about that fact, but the lab coat and PPE you always wore or at least had on hand clued them into the fact that you were probably an associate of his before his accident. When they asked you about what kind of doctor you were, you were very short in your response, only telling them you specialized in cellular biology and worked at the local hospital at one point.

They watched how you interacted with their boss and were shocked at your boldness towards him. You weren’t shy about voicing your concerns with his plans much to the boss’s dismay, frustrating him even more and forcing him to revise his plan twice, thrice, however many times until you were satisfied. Yet despite his irritation with your feedback, he always acted on what you said. In addition, you were the only one he let aid him in constructing his machinery. Your involvement would range from handing him tools to constructing parts of a larger machine depending on how complicated the schematic the doctor had drawn up, often time being tweaked by you before he began construction. You’d even talk to the boss about his health, pushing him to stay active even in small ways and to try and incorporate small items into his diet that weren’t just cheese. You’d even cook for the man!

To the henchmen, you seemed more like a friend to their boss rather than a worker, and they supposed that’s why you were his “First Commander” instead of another henchman. 

Yet Meatloaf couldn’t help but notice the longing looks you would shoot the doctor, an unreadable expression on your face. He listened to how you spoke firmly but gently to the boss, never once raising your voice no matter how belligerent and unreasonable he would become. Charlie saw the lingering touches you would brush against the doctor’s skin, not wanting to pull away yourself yet not having the heart to stand when the boss would inevitably push you away from him. He watched as you would care for him in small ways like organizing his tools or draping a blanket over him when he would pass out on the couch. They both figured you had feelings for their boss as strange as the man was. That would explain why you so willingly allowed yourself to be hired by their insane boss and why you did things that most certainly weren’t part of your job description.

Oh, how close yet so far they were from the truth with this idea in their mind.

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

You practically lived in the lair with Dr. Two Brains, so it was no surprise that you were there before Charlie or Meatloaf. What was surprising was that you were nowhere to be found when the two henchmen came in that morning. You’d usually be busying yourself with some minute task in the main part of the lair, yet today you were not there. 

Just a few minutes earlier, right before the two henchmen had arrived, you had been called over by Dr. Two Brains to help in his “office,” which was just a small back room that was mostly stable and had a partially functioning door on it. He said he wanted your input on his schematic for a ray that would turn gold into cheese. You didn’t go to him immediately, opting to finish what you were doing in the front of the lair before helping him. Your concentration drifted from that task when you heard the crashing of books and the scattering of papers coming from his office. 

You’re quick to sprint over to his office, calling out to him in worry all the way there.

“Doc?” You asked, rounding the corner of the hall, “You alright?” 

You peeked your head into his room to see it in complete disarray. Papers fluttered to the ground and the few reference books you had managed to steal get for him were scattered about without care. Your eyes were drawn to Two Brains in the corner, back against the wall, and head in his hands, his mouse brain pulsing.

He groaned as he tried to soothe his aching head, yet the pain would not let up. You slowly made your way over to him, tiptoeing over the scattered papers and open books. 

“I’m here, Doc,” You whispered, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. If he knew you were there, he didn’t acknowledge you. His hands gripped his head harder with strands of his white hair sticking to the rubber of his gloves and slipping between his fingers. He muttered something, but you couldn’t understand him.

You scooted even closer and placed your hands on his own before gently pulling his fingers out of his hair, though they would not leave his head. You rubbed his hands through his gloves and softly spoke to him,

“I’m right here for you, Doctor. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll help you.”

Dr. Two Brains’ muttering stopped and his movements stilled. His hands gently gripped your own and slowly he let you pull his hands away from his face where you placed them on his knees.

His eyes were irritated and red-rimmed, much more than usual, and tears were caught in his whiskers on their way down his lithe face. His cheeks were flush, most likely from crying so hard and unable to breathe properly. He licked his lips and inhaled a shuddering breath before trying to speak again. He was unable to through his raw throat.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, rubbing your fingers comfortingly on his hands, “Just breathe.”

His dark eyes looked into your own E/C ones and for a moment you saw recognition in them. 

“Y/N?” Dr. Two Brains questioned, and it felt as if the breath was forced from your lungs. 

Eyes blown wide you’re silent for a moment, unable to force even a breath from your body. Your hands grip him harder and you feel your eyes burn from unseen tears and your face warm. Your bottom lip trembled but you forced your jaw to unclench and answered unsure,

“Steven?” And he hummed in response.

Dr. Two Brains, Steven, looked around the room and sniffed before looking back at you. 

“What’s…going on? Where are we?” Steven asked, but you were still unable to say anything in response. In an instance, you moved his knees aside and fell into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He groaned from the hard impact, but quickly wrapped his own arms around you and rested his chin on your head with a chuckle. 

“What’s wrong, Darling? Why are…” Steven’s question trails off as he wipes the tears off his cheek, “We both crying?” 

You wanted to answer him, but you couldn’t force a single word from your mouth, opting to press your face harder into his chest and hug him tighter. You breathed in his scent, laced with some cheddar cheese but still him, before pulling away to look at him and God…

How long has it been since he’s looked at you like this? 

Eyes soft but still that rodent red, he gazed at you with so much love you felt as if you could just die of love for him. 

You steadied your breath and brought a hand up to cup his cheek, wiping away any remnant of his tears before answering him.

“Nothing's wrong,” You sighed, hands never once leaving his body, “I’ve just missed you so.”

Steven chuckles before kissing your cheek and you shuttered at the strange yet familiar sensation. He pulled you in closer to him, moving you to straddle his thigh that was outstretched in front of him, and pressed his cheek against yours in a movement that you hadn’t felt in so long yet remembered so well. His whiskers tickled your cheek the same way his stubble used to.

“You’re such a sweetheart. I’ve been in my lab the whole time, haven’t I?” Steven chuckled, “Where have I been to you?”

You tilted your head to kiss his cheek, not minding the gentle prodigy of his whiskers.

“I know where you’ve been,” You quickly answered, “I’ve just been busy in my own lab at the hospital.” You lied. You didn’t want to risk reminding him of who he had become. 

“The long hours, plus the strange times I have to work, have completely taken me away from you. I just miss being in your company,” You whispered.

Steven shifted you in his lap, pulling back and cupping your face with both his hands and the rubber of his gloves cooled your flushed cheeks. He peppered your face with light and innocent kisses; from your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, the space between your eyebrows, and finally one last kiss to your lips. You hummed into the kiss, one hand gripping his arm and the other trailing up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. Eyes closed, he wiped the last of your tears from your face. 

Pulling back, Steven rested his forehead against yours and sighed.

“How did I manage to end up with such a loving spouse like you, hmm?” He questioned, eyes soft and unfocused as he looked at you with complete adoration. Your hands fall to his shoulders and you squeeze them, never wanting to let go of him again.

“No, it’s me who is lucky to have ended up with you, my beloved,” You answered in a hushed tone. You pressed your lips to his in a chaste, sweet kiss, savoring the feeling of his soft yet chapped lips against your own. 

The feeling of his body against your own was one you hadn’t felt in so long, yet it was all too familiar at the same time. Hesitantly you pulled away from him and immediately felt another wave of tears build up behind your eyes. You leaned forward and pressed your face into his neck with arms wrapped around his chest tighter than before. You tilted your face to speak into his neck,

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered, voice small from the unshed tears that burned your face, “Not again. Not ever.” 

“Ohh, sweetheart…What has gotten into you?” Steven questioned, arms wrapped around your shaking frame, “I’d never leave you. Not now, not ever.”

You tried to wipe the tears that fell from your eyes not wanting to soil Steven’s lab coat, but you knew he never minded. He always said that he could just wash it.

Steven’s hands are gentle as they caress your body, careful not to snag his gloves on your clothes or pull your hair too hard. His touches soon falter before he pushes you away from him slightly and for a moment you’re worried that he would push you off of him altogether.��

With his hands on your shoulders and eyebrows furrowed, Steven finally takes a good look at you, his eyes trailing from your head to your feet, then back up to your face.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice laced with worry, “You look so much thinner than I remember.” He commented. You tried to shrug off his concern, but he persisted. 

“And your eyes,” Steven began while tracing your under-eye with his thumb, “You’ve got terrible eye bags. Not that you look bad! You just seem…tired. More than usual.”

You placed your hand over top of his on your face and smiled softly, yet you knew you had to come up with a lie.

“If I’m honest, I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” You started, eyes drifting away from his own, “The long hours I’ve been putting in have made it difficult for me to rest at night. And being away from you hasn’t helped.”

You shifted under his gaze uncomfortable at the probing but still managed to finish.

“But I feel much better now that I’m with you,” You smiled, meeting his eyes again, but a frown had etched itself on his face.

“Y/N, please don’t lie to me,” Steven whispered, and you cursed yourself for having been caught, “What’s troubling you so much? Where have I been?” 

You frown yourself, gripping him harder and sniffling. You pulled his hand off your face and rested it in his lap, rubbing the tops of his hands with your thumbs. 

“You’ve just…been away,” You mutter, tears brimming in your eyes, “Away from me. I’ve missed you.”

“But where have I been?” Steven asked again.

“I-I don’t know. You’ve been here, but you just haven’t been yourself,” You answered while using your shoulder to wipe your face, “But you’re here now. You’re yourself now! I just want to stay with you…”

Steven pulled his hands from his lap and held your waist, kissing your cheek and shushing your sobs.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered against your skin, “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

You hugged him, arms wrapping your arms around his back and hooking them over his shoulders, and rested your head on his shoulder. His hands on your waist rubbed you gently and soothed the tension you hadn’t realized had settled there. You exhaled a shuddering breath before speaking up,

“I love you, Steven,” You sighed. He holds you tighter.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Steven responded.

Your right-hand falls from where it was resting and trails down his left arm to his hand. There was still something you needed to know. Slowly, Steven lets you pull the glove off his hand and it falls to the floor.

You feel a sob bubble up your throat as your eyes lay on the simple gold band nestled on his slender ring finger. You can’t help but caress the ring, relieved that he still wore it even when he wasn’t Steven. Shakily, you lifted his hand to your face and kissed his knuckles. Pulling away, you lace your fingers together and smile at him, a smile that he returns. 

Steven’s grasp on your hand falters before his arm falls limp. He looks around the room with furrowed eyebrows and gears turning in his head. 

“Why am I on the floor?” Steven asked, voice hoarse and not the same tone he had been speaking to you with. He shifted back from you and you in turn moved away from him.

“Please, just stay a little longer,” You thought, but you knew your plea would not be answered.

“And why are you sitting on me?” Steven, no, Dr. Two Brains asked, and you’re quick to pull away altogether. The doctor rubs his hand subconsciously and quickly notices his left glove is missing. He looks around panicked before finding it on the floor and swiftly pulling it on his hand and over his elbow. He rubs where his ring is under the glove and glares at you.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Two Brains asks again, yet you couldn’t come up with a lie quick enough, “Answer me, Commander!”

“I-You fell!” You exclaimed, moving to kneel in front of him, “You fell after you called me to look at your schematics. I was just making sure you didn’t hit your head too hard is all…” Your voice trailed off as determination seemed to die down in your throat. 

Dr. Two Brains glares at you for a moment longer before his face softens, but it’s clear his suspicion remains.

“Right…” He draws out while swatting your outstretched hand away and lifting himself to his feet, “Did you look at the schematics yet?” 

“No, not yet,” You answered, dusting the dirt off your pants and fixing your coat. 

“What am I paying you for then?” Dr. Two Brains groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. He opened them a moment later, sighing and looking over to the door of his office.

“And why are you guys just standing around?!” The doctor shouted, drawing your attention to the two henchmen standing in the doorframe. 

“Just how long had they been standing there?”

From the look they gave you, it was clear they had been there long enough.

“Sorry, Boss. We’ll get right back to work,” Meatloaf said before motioning for Charlie to follow him. They glanced at you one last time before disappearing somewhere in the lair. 

Dr. Two Brains turned back to you and just as he opened his mouth to say something he cut himself off, unsure.

“Are you crying?” Dr. Two Brains asked. 

“Were you crying?” You thought as your eyelids fluttered and you tapped your undereye with your fingertip, immediately noting the moisture there. 

“Uh-” You stutter, unsure of how to answer him. You felt that an affirmative ‘yes’ would make things more awkward than it already was.

“Oh, geez. I didn’t think I was that harsh,” Dr. Two Brains said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Was I?” 

“No-” You clear your throat while trying to quickly dispel the discomfort that had gathered between you two, “It’s nothing. Just…allergies!” 

You scrubbed the tears from your eyes roughly and stood up straight, yet Dr. Two Brains was still cautious.

“Um, alright,” He muttered, “Just look over the schematics when you can.” He gestured to his desk before sitting down himself. You’re quick to pick up the offending schematics and scurry out of his office with a teary-eyed smile.

His gaze lingers on you a moment longer than it should have, his hand subconsciously coming up to caress the golden band on his left hand.

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

You found yourself on the upper side of the lair on a “balcony” of sorts, schematics long discarded on a table in the main room. You’d look later. You pull the cigarette from your lips in your left hand, exhaling that smoke in one big sigh. 

Bad habit, you know. But sometimes you just want to forget the same way he does.

You hear footsteps approaching you on your left and aren’t surprised to see Charlie and Meatloaf peering up at you, unsure if they were allowed up there with you. With a sigh, you motioned for them to join you. They climb up and rest on the railing on either side of you. Meatloaf clears his throat as you take another drag from your cigarette.

“Sooo…” Meatloaf begins, dragging out his single word.

“Sooo…” You copy, not looking over at him.

“You and the Boss are a thing?” He asked, looking at your face for an answer. You frown and drop your cigarette on the ground, stomping out the few burning embers. 

“Do you two know my name?” You ask, fingers playing with your glove on your left hand.

“No, the Boss just calls you our commander. He never told us your name,” Meatloaf explains. Your eyes remain down as you take a step back from the railing and pull off your glove. You hold up your left hand for them to see the gold band that rests on your ring finger.

“I’m Dr. Y/N Boxleitner,” You said, dropping your hand back down to your waist and placing your glove back on, “Steven is my husband.”

Charlie’s mouth is agape as Meatloaf stutters out a few incoherent words before taking a deep breath and trying again.

“You’re Dr. Two Brains’ spouse?! I had no idea he was married!” Meatloaf exclaimed, and you chuckled bitterly.

“Yeah, he seems to forget that too,” Meatloaf is silent and Charlie places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look up at them.

“We noticed…” Meatloaf whispered, trying his best to be comforting. Meatloaf rubbed your other shoulder and looked over to you in concern. 

“We’re sorry about what you have to go through. While Charlie and me don’t know much, we can’t imagine how hard it is for you,” Charlie shook his head affirmatively as Meatloaf spoke. You place your hands on theirs and sighed.

“Thanks…” You muttered out quietly, “It really is hard. After the accident, I thought Steven was dead until I saw the news broadcast about him.” Charlie and Meatloaf nod as you continue.

“In a way, he sort of is. He doesn’t even remember me most of the time,” You lean forward and press your face into your hands, elbows resting on the guardrail, “Everytime he forgets…It’s like losing him over and over again.” 

The tears finally fell freely down your face and the two henchmen looked at each other panicking, not knowing what to do to comfort you. They let you cry while rubbing your back and Charlie offered you a tissue when most of your crying was done.

“Thank you…” You sniffled before wiping your face and blowing your nose.

“Does the Boss really not recognize you?” Meatloaf asked hesitantly. You shook your head.

“Most times, no,” You answered, shoulders slumped and legs tired, “But I took that vow, ‘In sickness and in health.’ How funny…”

The henchmen are silent.

“I mean, really. What horrible act did I commit to deserve this outcome?” The tears were back with a vengeance and you rubbed your eyes extra hard to rid yourself of them, ignoring the sharp sting of your lab coat rubbing your delicate skin so rough, “It’s n-not fair. I’ve don’t nothing but love Steven with all my heart, and when he looks at me-”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale, suddenly unable to breath properly.

“He doesn’t even remember me!” You shouted, banging your fists on the railing and noting the small dents in the metal, “It hurts…More than anything, it hurts so bad.”

The henchmen stayed with you for the rest of the night, even helping you cook dinner and having a small sleepover that Dr. Two Brains wasn’t a part of. You looked absolutely tired when the three of you sat down to watch a movie and you ended up only making it half way through it before you were out like a light. The two covered you with a discarded, mostly clean towel that was lying around -- it was the closest to a proper blanket -- before leaving the lair for the night. Charlie glanced at your sleeping form one last time, sympathy for you overflowing, before Meatloaf called him over to the truck.

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

Less than an hour later, Dr. Two Brains made his way into the main part of the lair, finding you passed out on the couch. As he approached, he pulled the towel off of you with a disgusted sneer and immediately noted the smell of cigarettes on you. It was faint even for the mouse nose, but it was definitely cigarettes he was smelling.

Dr. Two Brains grumbled to himself about forcing you to quit while grabbing a proper blanket and pillow from the storage area of the lair. He came back and covered your now shivering body with the thick comforter. There were a few holes in it and it smelled a little funky, but it was better than the damn towel that’s for sure. 

Ever so gently, Dr. Two Brains lifts your head and squeezes the pillow underneath it before dropping you back down. He watched you turn your head in your sleep and sigh. 

The Doctor felt odd as he stared at your face, subconsciously tucking a loose strand of hair out of the way. 

But the longer he looked at you the more you reminded him of his own spouse...

He always did wonder where they went after his accident.