#you can’t keep a good mad scientist down

[jesse-pinko]

Look Stanford Pines is canonically a self-centered little shit BUT ☝️ any reverse portal au where he doesn’t try to bring Stanley back just reads as straight up character assassination to me and you know what else?? He is jumping straight into that portal armed to the teeth to save his brother the man might be emotionally constipated but he loves his bro and also he is a lunatic

[starstruckgrrl]

CAn u do one for dr stone

Senku tbh js do anything

a/n: i came out of hiding to make this 😛 also i did get another request at the exact same time for a senku x reader so i’m hoping this was also you bc i don’t wanna do 2 in a row 😭

‧₊˚ ෆ synopsis: you came to visit your favorite future nobel prize winning scientist in the school chemistry lab, but you were bothered on your way there.

~ warnings: smut, afab!reader, no pronouns used on reader, reader has a crush on senku, senku knows, kissing, oral (f receiving), seniors in high school, sweet!senku, confession

as you walked towards the grand science lab at the end of the hall (aka senku’s lair), you fished out a pocket mirror from your backpack to check on how you looked at the moment.

“checking your appearance before you see the mad scientist?” taiju asks you, and you nod in response.

“i’m gonna try to tell him today, so i need to look perfect.”

“good luck!” taiju shouts, “i’m gonna tell yuzuriha tomorrow!”

“i believe in you!” you reply as he runs off to find her.

you swing open the door to the science lab where you find senku writing notes as a solution bubbles before him.

“hello, y/n.” senku greets.

you greet him back and sit next to him, and he finishes his writing and closes the notebook. he turns to face you, looking at you seriously.

“y/n, we should talk.” he says.

oh no… isn’t that YOUR line? you’re the one who came to confess! is he mad you intruded on him? he looks so serious too… this can’t end well.

you immediately begin to worry, and he picks up on that.

“don’t overthink, i’m not upset with you!” he says to stop your train of thought.

“not even one millimeter?” you reply teasingly, looking at him through your lashes with a sly smile.

he grins back at you and shakes his head.

“y/n, you know i’m not one for formalities and tradition. i believe in innovation and science. having a partner always seemed like one of those stupid traditions to me…”

tears begin to well up in your eyes. he knew about your crush, and was trying to let you down easy, you thought.

“but, even so, i am human, i can’t deny how i feel.”

senku grabs your hands and holds them in his, a complete change for the usually non-physically intimate man he is.

“y/n, i… like you. i can tell you like me too, and you just understand me in a way other people don’t.”

senku cringes before he finally says, “will you be my partner?”

“of course i will, senku!” you reply, throwing yourself onto him to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close for a hug.

he hugs you back, relishing in the moment for a while. he pulls back to look at you, face to face, before he says, “we’ve been together for 52 seconds.”

you smile wide and laugh, sweet and genuine.

“are you going to be keeping count from now on?” you asked.

“obviously. i will have to know when to buy you anniversary presents.”

you reach up to cup his face and leaned in to kiss him. it starts slow, experimental from the both of you. senku begins to get more passionate, though, to have confessed in the first place, he must be pretty passionate about you. he only involves himself in things he truly believes in or cares about.

senku breaks the kiss to breathe, your foreheads still connected as you inhale and exhale quickly. he let his hands rest on your sides, above your ass, and pulls him towards you, gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

the two of you kiss again, and you begin to feel the familiar heat pool in your lower half as you grind on his thigh, ever so slightly. however, senku being as attentive as he is, of course notices.

putting his hand on your inner thigh and rubbing your core through your pants, he says, “let me help.”

~

you end up laying on your back on an empty table in the science lab, with senku between your bare legs, your pants and underwear laid next to you.

senku is, for once, vulnerable looking as he sits on his knees. you don’t have time to tease him at the sight, though, because his fingers are working so well at your clit, rolling the sensitive bud and drawing circles on it. his mouth is too occupied to tease you for the way your face is so flushed, as his tongue is drawing figure 8s in your cunt.

the two of you are lucky everyone is gone from the school, as the moans you’re letting out would immediately notify anyone nearby.

~

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (6 - Dearly Lost)

Chapter Summary: You're no longer questioning your reality—that is until the twins does something you didn't think they were capable of. Monica, Darcy and Jimmy learn a fundamental truth about you from no other than Clint Barton. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: Let me know if the reveal at the end was pretty obvious :P // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Things seem normal again. At least for a while.

Wanda watches you from the doorway, noticing how absorbed you are in a book, chuckling quietly at something on the page. You've always been a bibliophile, and she's never met anyone who reads as much as you do. Back when you went on missions together, you'd have a book in hand on the jet, finding time to read even on the way back to the compound. You'd even squeeze in a visit to a local bookstore whenever you were stationed somewhere new. In this reality, though you work hard to provide for the family, you still manage to read a page or two before calling it a night. She was more than relieved to find out that you were still wholly yourself in here. 

Lately, Wanda’s found herself doing this more—watching you, making sure you're still there, still undoubtedly hers. She knows she’s keeping tabs on you more than she even does on her six-year-old twins, and deep down, she understands it's not healthy.

There hasn't been a major incident since your last big argument, the day she literally threw Geraldine out of town. But that's only because Wanda has been managing things before they can escalate. She’s been tweaking little things with her powers, smoothing over potential upsets, steering your mood when it seemed to dip. It never gets easier for her, using her magic on you. It feels as if she’s betraying you each time, but Wanda feels trapped into making these choices, believing it’s the only way to protect you and the boys and the happiness she’s found here in Westview.

“You’re spying again.” 

Wanda blinks to find you looking up from your book, the corners of your mouth tilting upwards in a teasing smile.

“Can't help it,” she replies. “You look so beautiful.”

You close the book slightly, keeping a finger between the pages. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” you say, meeting her eyes. “Care to join me?” You pat the empty spot beside you on the couch. 

Wanda crosses the room to sit next to you. “What are you reading this time?” she asks.

You hold up the book to show her the cover. “Just revisiting an old favorite.”

Wanda reads the title: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. She can't help but wonder why you decided to pick up that book now, of all times. Wanda feigns innocence about what it could mean. 

“Mad scientist and monsters?” 

“Yeah”, you say. “Though the monster isn't really the villain if you think about it.”

She raises an eyebrow, taking a seat beside you. “No?”

“No,” you continue. “He's just misunderstood, a creation trying to find his place in the world. It's the creator who's irresponsible.”

Wanda swallows, the irony not lost on her. “I see.”

Noticing the distant look in her eyes, you fold the corner of the page and set the book aside.

“Is everything okay?”

She forces a small smile and nods.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offer, your hand brushing hers.

Wanda intertwines her fingers with yours, then shakes her head. “It's nothing, really. Just... thinking about how good things are.”

You squeeze her hand lightly. “I think about that too. Every day.”

Wanda smiles at you, though she can’t help but wonder how much of your response is truly yours, and how much is shaped by the spell she’s woven around you.

After a moment, you say, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Her grip tightens ever so slightly. She can feel her palm against yours becoming clammy. “I know,” she whispers.

“Good,” you reply, leaning in to rest your head against hers. “Because whatever it is, we'll face it together, right?”

Wanda closes her eyes, soaking in your words. “Thank you,” she whispers.

You chuckle softly at that, shaking your head slightly. It seems almost silly that Wanda feels the need to thank you for something so fundamental. Aren't you supposed to be there for each other no matter what? After all, that's what being married is about. Being there for her—it’s not something she should ever have to thank you for; it's just a given.

You reopen the book with your free hand. “How about I read to you for a bit?”

She nestles closer, sinking into your embrace. “I'd love that.”

You begin to read out loud, but even as she listens, a part of her remains restless. She wishes she could share everything with you—the doubts, the fears, the lengths she's gone to preserve these moments with you.

–

“If there's one thing I don't like about this show—” Darcy starts, her eyes fixed on the television displaying the latest episode of Wanda's broadcast. In Command Central, more than a dozen monitors are lit up around the clock to ensure they don’t miss a moment. Darcy's snagged this vintage TV for their own use, preferring to monitor and analyze the situation away from the others. Ever since Hayward declared Wanda the enemy, they've all agreed they couldn't trust him.

Monica and Jimmy both give her pointed looks. It's hard to appreciate the nuances of a TV show when you know an entire town is being held hostage for it.

“Okay, besides the whole ‘entire town under mind control by a former Avenger’ situation,” Darcy adds, rolling her eyes. “It's the lack of continuity. One minute, Y/N is giving Wanda the cold shoulder, they're arguing over something trivial, and the next, they're all lovey-dovey like nothing ever happened. We didn't even get to see how that last argument over the scorched lasagna got resolved!”

Monica sucks in her teeth. “I doubt that scene really happened.”

Darcy nods. “I can't even wrap my head around how she's pulling this off. Her powers are—”

“Autonomous,” Jimmy chimes in. “Or it could mean Wanda's losing control over the narrative?”

Monica shakes her head. “No. That’s definitely a result of her controlling the narrative.” 

“What’s Hayward’s plan anyway?”

Monica’s head drops. “H-He isn’t including me in the closed door meeting.”

“Oh,” Darcy mumbles. That could only mean that whatever Hayward’s planning, he knows Monica would challenge it at all cost. And if Monica’s against it, well, it can’t possibly be good or morally tactful.

Right then, Monica’s phone vibrates in her pocket. She checks the message and allows a slight smile. “I might have some good news,” she says.

Darcy swivels her chair to face her. “Please tell me you found a way to fix this.”

Monica glances at the tent entrance. “Not exactly a fix, but maybe a step in the right direction.”

Before anyone can question her further, the tent flap opens, and a familiar figure strides in.

“Clint Barton?” Jimmy blurts out, eyebrows shooting up.

“Hey,” Clint says casually, giving a small wave. “Heard you all could use some help.”

Darcy's mouth hangs open. “Whoa… Hawkeye?”

Before the two can spiral into hero worship, Monica steps forward. “I reached out to Carol, but she's off-world.  She suggested contacting someone who knows Y/N well.”

“We go way back,” Clint explains. “I trained her for a while before Nat took her under her wing.”

An awkward silence settles over the cramped room as Jimmy and Darcy stare at Clint with wide-eyed astonishment. Clint glances around at the hodgepodge of equipment piled in corners and cables snaking across the floor. He clears his throat. “So... this is Command Central?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

“More like the storage room,” Monica replies dryly, arms crossed over her chest.

It’s Darcy who snaps out of it first. “Okay, I just have to ask—do you ever miss? Like, is that a thing that happens?” she blurts out.

“Darcy,” Monica warns.

But Darcy barrels ahead, as if not hearing her. “And your arrows—do you make them yourself? What's your craziest trick shot?”

Clint chuckles softly. “I designed them, yes.”

Monica places a hand on Darcy's shoulder. “We really should—” 

Before she can finish, Jimmy pushes off his chair, nearly tripping over a stack of files as he moves closer. “In the Battle of New York, how did you keep track of so many targets at once?” he asks eagerly.

Monica sighs loudly. “You too?”

The former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent shrugs defensively. “What? I’m a fan.”

“Can we please stay focused?” Monica says, pinching the bridge of her nose in embarrassment.

Clint chuckles softly. “It's alright. I get it.” He looks around at them with a friendly smile. “But I heard you’ve got an urgent situation here?”

“Right, right. Sorry. It's just—you're kind of a big deal.”

Monica takes a deep breath. “As I was saying, Clint knows Y/N well. He might be able to help us understand why Wanda’s doing this, how important Y/N was to her, and give us a clue on how we could help her through her grief.”

Darcy tilts her head. “So, what's she like? I mean, off the record.”

Monica gives Darcy a pointed look. “Darcy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Darcy concedes, raising her hands. “But this interview’s gotta start somewhere, right?”

Clint looks between them. “Hold on a second,” he says. “What exactly is Wanda doing?”

Monica opens her mouth but finds herself hesitating, unsure how to relay the gravity of the situation. How do you tell someone that their friend has commandeered an entire town? There's no easy way to frame it—Wanda's actions are both alarming and, not to mention, illegal.

Darcy blows out a breath. “Oh boy, where to start?”

“Mr. Barton—” Jimmy starts.

“Just call me Clint.”

“Mr. Clint,” Jimmy continues. “Wanda has... taken over Westview.”

Clint raises an eyebrow. “Taken over? What do you mean?”

Monica finally finds her voice. “Wanda created an alternate reality that’s protected by some hexagonal energy barrier—”

“Hex!” Darcy exclaims excitedly, proud to have coined the nickname that she’s heard other field agents using. “That's what we've been calling it.”

Monica shoots her a glare but keeps going. “—and people are trapped.”

“Trapped?”

Darcy nods vigorously. “Yep, complete with its own TV broadcast. Different eras, laugh tracks, the whole sitcom package.”

Clint runs a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Wanda did what now?”

Monica pulls two chairs over to the central table, motioning for herself and Clint to sit. “We can brief you more on that later. It's hard to explain when there's no broadcast at the moment,” she says, gesturing toward the small vintage TV that's been showing static for hours. “Right now, we're on a tight schedule to convince Hayward to take an approach that minimizes casualties as much as possible. So, what can you tell us about Y/N? Wait—Jimmy, can you...?”

“Got it,” Jimmy replies, pressing the record button on the device. “All set.”

“Coffee?” Darcy offers, holding up a fresh pot.

“Please, and thank you,” Clint replies gratefully. He takes a seat, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. Turning to Monica, he asks, “So, how do you want to begin?”

“We have her basic bio—date of birth, physical stats, the usual. We know she worked with S.H.I.E.L.D. and later joined the Avengers, but beyond that, there's not much. Officially, she died two years ago in Tokyo. That's where our trail ends,” Monica says.

Clint nods slowly. “That lines up with what I know.”

Monica continues, “What we need to understand is her relationship with Wanda. Who was she to Wanda? How deep did their connection go?”

Clint tries his best to appear nonchalant though he’s out of practice. Your relationship with Wanda was kept under wraps; only the Avengers knew the full story. How did these people find out about you and Wanda being involved if all they have is what's in Stark's database?

Monica senses Clint’s having second thoughts on how to answer. “I understand this is sensitive,” she says, giving him a moment. “We’ll answer any questions you have, but we really need your help.”

Clint takes a sip of his coffee before responding thoughtfully, “I don't usually delve into others' private lives, especially when they're not here to speak for themselves. But if it can help us understand what's going on with Wanda…” He stops for a second, a faint smile touching his lips. “Funny thing is, they couldn't stand each other at first.”

–

“Smells good in here,” Wanda says as she pads into the kitchen wearing her sleep gown. It's Saturday—the one day you insist she sleeps in while you handle the morning routine with the twins, repaying her for the five days a week she does the same for you.

You turn from the stove, a spatula in hand, and smile. “Morning. Pancakes are almost ready.”

She moves closer, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and resting her cheek against your shoulder blade. “You're spoiling me,” she murmurs.

“Just returning the favor,” you reply, flipping a golden pancake onto the growing stack. “Besides, the boys love helping out.”

No sooner do you say that than Tommy and Billy dash into the kitchen, giggling and shoving each other playfully. “Mom! You're up!” Billy exclaims, eyes bright.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Wanda greets, reaching out to smooth his tousled hair. “Did you two help with breakfast?”

“Of course!” Tommy grins. “I stirred the batter.”

“And I added the chocolate chips,” Billy adds proudly.

You chuckle. “They've been a big help.”

Wanda looks between the three of you, her eyes getting a little misty. “I can see that. Well, let me set the table.”

Before she can reach the cabinet, you quickly intercept her movements with a gentle hand on her arm. “Ah-ah, not today,” you say with a grin. “Why don't you take your usual spot and sit pretty?”

Wanda looks amused. “Are you sure?”

You merely lean in and kiss her cheek, letting your lips linger for a second longer than necessary before whispering, “I’m absolutely sure I just want you there sitting pretty for me.” Wanda giggles, blushing.

After breakfast, Tommy asks, “Can we go play outside?” already half out of his seat.

“Finish your juice first,” you say. 

They obediently chug their juice, cheeks puffing out adorably as they hurriedly swallow. You watch, momentarily concerned, but the sight is too endearing to fuss over.

“Done!” Billy declares.

Wanda laughs. “Alright, but stay in the yard.”

You begin clearing the dishes, and Wanda joins you at the sink. “They’re a handful,” she remarks, shaking her head fondly.

“I love it,” you reply, smiling as you scrub the same plate absentmindedly. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having two more just like them.”

Wanda nudges your hip with hers. Hearing you want to have more kids with her both terrifies and excites her. “Is that so?” she teases.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning in to rub your nose affectionately against hers. “I’ll carry the girls this time.”

“Girls?” she repeats with a soft smile, her face lighting up at the thought.

As you're both finishing up, a commotion comes from the backyard. The boys' excited voices carry into the kitchen. “Moms! Come see!”

You and Wanda look at each other in question before heading outside. The twins stand on the patio, each holding one end of a wriggling, scruffy dog.

“Look what we found!” Tommy shrieks.

The dog wags its tail furiously, tongue lolling out.

“Where did he come from?” Wanda asks.

“He was by the bushes,” Billy explains. “He doesn't have a collar or anything. Can we keep him?”

Wanda gently takes the dog from them, cradling it like a newborn. “Now boys, taking care of a living thing is a big responsibility,” she starts, “Dogs need food, exercise, training,” she brings her face closer to the little dog and begins nuzzling it. “Belly rubs and cuddles and kisses between his little ears.”

You watch your wife, noting that you’ve clearly lost her to the dog. 

“We know,” Billy insists. “We'll feed him and walk him and everything!” Wanda hands the dog back to the twins as she turns to you, seeking your input.

“What do you think?” she asks, clearly hoping you’ll say yes. It’s always a challenge to say no when she looks at you like that—so childlike herself—but you’re not convinced the kids are quite ready for the responsibility—yet.

You sigh lightly. “I don't know, guys. A dog is a lot of work. And you're still pretty young.”

Tommy pouts. “But we'll be responsible, we promise!”

Billy nods earnestly. “Please?”

Wanda smiles at you, then turns back to the boys. “Maybe when you're a little older.”

“How old?” Tommy asks, tilting his head.

Wanda hesitates, glancing at you. You clear your throat and suggest, “Ten.”

“Yeah, when you're ten,” Wanda agrees.

The brothers exchange a mischievous glance. Wanda immediately realizes what's about to happen and begins muttering urgently, “No, no, no…” But she can't stop it. Right before your eyes, your six-year-old boys start to grow taller, their faces maturing as they rapidly age themselves to meet the age you've required for them to keep the dog.

Wanda glances back at you, hands on her hips. “Well, I guess that settles it, huh?”

–

Clint chews on what he's seeing for a long, hard minute. Watching you in proper pajamas—something he knows you'd never wear in your entire life—cooking pancakes and playing house with Wanda and two kids who look nothing like either of you, it's... it's a lot to take in, even after everything he's seen in this lifetime. 

After sharing what he knew—what he could—about your relationship with Wanda, Clint asked Monica for more details on what exactly Wanda had allegedly done to the town. Monica's expression grew somber as she responded, suggesting that it was better to show him rather than tell. Skeptical, Clint doubted it could be as extreme as they were making it out to be, but he agreed to see for himself what was really going on.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“That's... that's definitely Y/N,” he mutters, eyes still glued to the screen. “Her face, her voice... even that annoyingly cheesy way she gets around Wanda.”

Monica glances at him. “So it's really her?”

“Yeah. Unless someone found her identical twin, that's her.”

Darcy folds her arms, skeptical. “But we thought Y/N died after the Snap. She didn't come back when everyone else did.”

Clint looks down at his lap, deep in thought. When he finally raises his eyes, there’s a hint of embarrassment on his face. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “That's…what most people were led to believe,” he says.

Three pairs of eyes are suddenly on him, waiting impatiently.

“Meaning?” Jimmy prods him for more.

Clint sighs, avoiding their eyes. He knows there's no turning back now.

“Y/N isn’t dead,” Clint finally discloses, earning a collective gasp that he’s already been expecting. “She went off the grid. Only Nat and I knew about this.”

[darlingdaisyfarm]

more mad scientist ford?? he does stuff to us PLEASE

im not very proud of my writing and ideas, im sorry

tags: sexual themes, injection, syringe, experiment, slapping, fem reader

⚛︎ :•.🧪 mad scientist!Ford

You’re sitting on the edge of his lab table, your legs swinging slightly, fingers gripping the cold metal edge because of nervousness. The sterile, sharp smell of antiseptic and strange chemicals fills the air, while Ford is focused on a task, meticulously preparing his latest experiment.

You try to exude nonchalance, crossing your legs and shifting on the table, but your heart races beneath your calm facade. The moment he glances your way, it feels like being placed under a microscope, scrutinized and exposed in the most intimate way.

“Well, well, well,” Ford’s voice is low and smooth and he straightens, finally directing his full attention at you. His gloved hands adjust the mask covering his mouth and he lifts a syringe filled with a luminous green liquid that glows like toxic emeralds. The eerie glow of his lab lights casts sharp shadows over his face, making his expression look even more predatory. “why so scared, darling?" 

His voice, muffled slightly through the mask, sounds mocking, amused as he steps closer. “don’t tell me you’re worried about growing an extra finger?” he holds up one of his gloved hands, wiggling his six fingers with a smirk.

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact, to stay still despite the gleaming needle hovering dangerously near. “No, not scared,” you manage to whisper, your voice softer than you intended, laden with a mixture of fear and something close to excitement.

He tilts his head. “Oh? playing brave, are we?” his gloved hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing enough to keep you still.

“Hold still, darling,” he brings the syringe closer to your skin, hovering just above your arm. “It’ll only hurt if you move.”

“Doctor Pines, wait—” you breathe, panic creeping into your chest.

“Relax, sweetheart, you’ll be just fine. Just a little poke.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Your breath catches as the needle breaks the skin, sharp, immediate, sending a sting through you. You wince, lips parting as the burn of whatever he’s injected starts to settle in, spreading like a strange warmth under your skin.

“There you go, just like that,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over your arm, lingering on your skin with a slow touch, as if rewarding you for your compliance. “such a good girl, holding still for me. . .”

You shiver, heat rushing through your veins and you don’t know if it’s from injection or the way his voice sounds, how he praises and calms you.

“Didn’t think you’d be this obedient,” Ford adds, his lips brushing perilously close to your ear. His gloved fingers caress your jaw, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet his dark, satisfied gaze. “you’re being so brave, it’s making me want to reward you.”

You look at him with big eyes as his gaze drops to your lips, oh yes, his kiss would be the best reward. Please, please, kiss me, dr. Pines. You try to not move so much, but it’s impossible – your body reacts to him, every nerve tingling under his touch, you need him badly, need him to touch you, to kiss you.

The injection burns, a slow, simmering heat that radiates through your veins, sinking deep into your muscles. You bite your lip, stifling a gasp as the sensation settles, spreading warmth to places you didn’t expect.

Ford steps back, his expression shifting to one of cold concentration as he scribbles notes. “Interesting,” he murmurs, not even glancing up as he jots down observations. “Subject shows signs of heightened arousal after the introduction of the serum. Fascinating. . .” and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re just a part of his grand experiment while he continues muttering about “accelerated responses” and ��stimulated neurochemistry”.

“Localized reaction along the bloodstream, increased dilation, elevated pulse,” he notes, clearly more engrossed in his findings than in your squirming.

Then, he closes his notebook and steps forward, positioning himself right between your legs.

You suck in a breath, heat pooling in your stomach and it’s like every nerve is suddenly alive under his fingertips. 

“Well?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “what are you feeling, sweetheart? any noticeable side effects?”

“I. . . I feel. . .” you trail off, your voice faltering as his hand slides up, resting on your lower back, pulling you forward, bringing your bodies even closer. “I feel hot, doctor Pines.” words slipping from your lips in a dazed, needy whisper. The embarrassment only making you more aware of how desperate you are under his hands.

His eyes spark with interest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. One hand moves up, cupping your breast with a lazy grip, his thumb brushing over you in slow, teasing circles. His eyes stay locked on your face, watching every little gasp, every shiver, the way you look at him with parted lips, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. And then he grips harder, digging his fingers in as he rolls your breast under his palm, testing your reactions with every squeeze.

You arch into his touch, a whimper spilling from your mouth and that only spurs him on.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” Ford squeezes harder, rougher, his grip verging on painful, but it only fuels the heat building inside you, making you ache.

Then, without warning, his hand leaves your breast and a sudden, sharp slap lands across your cheek, startling you, the sting blooming hot and fast on your skin. However, that only makes you press your thighs together, desperate for more.

“Look at you, so responsive. This formula might be my best work yet!”

And that’s why, hours later, you stumble out of his lab with trembling legs, your mind hazy and his seed slowly dripping down your thighs.

[psink]

Rainy season anime artwork translation:

A complicated chuunibyou guy

Kaidou Shun

(Voice Actor/ Shimazaki Nobunga)

Kusuo’s classmate that everyone knows is a chuunibyou. However because he’s shy, serious and pure-hearted by nature, he can’t maintain his chuunibyou persona.

⏴In the work, his chuunibyou sometimes causes problems for Kusuo, but in reality, he’s a good and timid child. He thinks of Kusuo, Nendou and Kuboyasu as important friends. Hopefully he’ll never lose this innocence.

Guy with a complicated love for his younger brother

Saiki Kuusuke

(Voice Actor/ Nojima Kenji)

Saiki Kusuo’s older brother, a genius mad scientist with an IQ of 218. Has a fetish for challenging his younger brother and getting defeated. He messes with Kusuo at any opportunity. 

⏶Contrary to his handsome looks, his real nature is quite disappointing. He’s an extreme masochist (however, this is limited to only Kusuo).

Complicated clingy guy

Akechi Touma

(Voice Actor/ Kaji Yuuki)

A logical and talkative transfer student who came to Kusuo’s class. He talks rapidly like a machine gun without reading the atmosphere of his surroundings. He suspects that Kusuo is a psychic. Although he was once deceived, he persistently continues to investigate Kusuo.

Guy who attracts complicated people

Saiki Kusuo

(Voice Actor/ Kamiya Hiroshi)

A high-school student who can control various psychic powers. In order to keep his abilities secret, he lives maintaining a moderate distance from those around him. His favorite food is sweets, he especially loves coffee jelly. 

⏶Although Kusuo almost never voluntarily expresses his emotions, he shows a blissful smile whilst tasting sweets. Is this cute contrast also a point that attracts people around him!?

⏶⏵In addition to Kaidou, other members of his troublesome group include the strongest idiot Nendou Riki (Voice Actor: Ono Daisuke and the delinquent Kuboyasu Aren (Voice Actor: Hosoya Yoshimasa), whose trouble-causing abilities are immeasurable. Despite that, they're also lovable guys that you can't hate.

(Kusuo’s left shoulder text)

The cheerful, sunny spring has passed and the rainy season has already arrived. Our handsome psychic, Saiki Kusuo, is on his way home whilst avoiding the scattered rain with his telekinesis, but there are people approaching him. His brother, Kuusuke, his classmate, Kusuo and the transfer student Akechi - these three people. Amongst them, Akechi, because of his natural quick thinking and good insight, seems to suspect Kusuo is a psychic!? With the intensity of either a devoted wife or a stalker, he clings to Kusuo and tries to reveal his secret by showering him with machine gun-like talk……Will Kusuo manage to avoid them like the rain and return the clear skies to his heart?

(Kusuo’s right shoulder text)

Just as his older brother, Kuusuke, is coming to pick him up with coffee jelly in one hand, Kaidou, struck by the rain, is showing off his chuunibyou. The transfer student Akechi invites Kusuo under his umbrella, too. Their attention-seeking offensive is even more persistent than the rainy season, how will Kusuo endure it!?

(Big text on white background)

A rain of love from the complicated people pours down intensively on

Kusuo☆

Heart-pounding regretful rain☆

QUESTION

If you were to share an umbrella with someone, who would it be?

Kamiya: Teruhashi-san. Her charm, which causes even the God to be her ally, makes me want to try saying 「offu」 as well.

Shimazaki: Of course, it’d have to be Teruhashi-san!!! Offu!!!

Saiki Kusuo’s Voice Actor

Kamiya Hiroshi-san 

Interview 

The 2nd season of 「Fierce Argument」. 

—If you were to express the growth and changes of Saiki Kusuo in the second season using four-character idioms or similar expressions, what would they be?

Kamiya: 「Fierce Argument (Editor’s note: The sound of swords clashing violently. Also, the state of engaging in heated debate)」 I feel that the degree of this is gradually increasing compared to the 1st season.

–Kamiya-san, please tell us a particular「Kusuo’s charm point」 that you’d like to recommend right now.

Kamiya: I don’t know much about Kusuo, but anyway, Teruhashi-san’s cuteness is a big charm of this work. 

–Please tell us the episode or moment that made you laugh whilst portraying Kusuo.

Kamiya: Kusuo is usually cool and it’s hard to read his emotions, but sometimes during particularly intense situations, he strongly interjects with 「You idiot!」, which is fun for me too.

–Kusuo is always extremely popular regardless of gender, Kamiya-san, if you were in his position, what would you do?

Kamiya: If each of them stays with me with the awareness that we're friends, then I will gratefully accept that.

Kaidou Shun’s Voice Actor

Shimazaki Nobunaga-san

Interview

Right now, I’m at my peak chuunibyou stage in life.

–If you were to express the growth and changes of Saiki Kusuo in the second season from a  chuunibyou perspective, what would that be?

Shimazaki: 「Jet Black Twilight - Ragnarok of Chaos」 Reason: it just sounds cool!

–Shimazaki-san, please tell us a particular 「Kaidou’s charm point」that you’d like to recommend right now.

Shimazaki: I find the contrast between Shun in his full-blown chuunibyou Jet-Black Wings mode and his natural self, who is a bit of a coward but is honest and caring about his friends, to be appealing.

–Shimazaki-sama, if you discovered a completely soaked Kaidou on a rainy day, what would you do?

Shimazaki: I’d protect him!!!

–Please tell us the episode or moment that made you laugh whilst portraying Kaidou.

Shimazaki: In the 2nd season, episode 4 of episode 8x, the loop episode 「Another Time Leap Challenge! I remember saying the same line over and over again like a broken record, it left a very strong impression on me. It was fun!

–Kaidou is still in full-blown chuunibyou mode, but Shimazaki-san, when were you the most chuunibyou-like in your life? 

Shimazaki: Right now. I seriously imagine using magic and saving the world every day.

[heliads]

we both know what happened to you - newt

Ben is exiled. The Glade doesn't take it well.

masterlist

It’s easy to be quiet in the mornings when it doesn’t matter. Simple days are for simple words, fading phrases, and long spells of silence. On days like today, though, after nights like last night, silence feels like the only option. No one can meet each other’s gaze. And no one wants to talk when they can still hear the echoes of Ben’s last desperate scream echoing in their mind. 

You feel a certain kind of restlessness when you’ve killed your friend. It gnaws at you like mad. Like how Ben was mad until you shoved him in the Maze and let him die. You can’t stop thinking about it, turning over that awful moment in your head again and again, unable to let the wound close in peace. He’d begged you to let him live, all of you, again and again until he was already half inside the Doors and knew it was over. You’ve known him for months. Many knew him longer still, yet all of you are complicit.

This is the Maze, after all. This is where you’re all born again with no memories and hardly even a name, and this is where half of you die. Stephen, cut in half after trying to climb down the Box Hole. Nick, his grave just barely green over with moss. And now Ben, hair like corn silk, who ran too far too fast, dead before he got to twenty. You’ll be there soon, maybe. You and Newt and everyone you’ve ever cared about. The Maze is where scientists kill the kids they raised. Birds kicked from the nest. Someone’s smoothing out your feathers now and readying you for the plunge, but all you can do is stare at the empty place among the straw and twigs where one of you had been just seconds before.

You’re staring at the walls of the Maze, lying flat on your stomach in the grass. There’s a stone jutting uncomfortably into your left elbow, but your chin’s resting on top of your laced fingertips and you’re not sure you have the strength to keep yourself from falling into the dirt while you push the smooth rock away. You wonder if Ben ever kicked that stone, if he ever tripped over it on his jog into the Maze and out again. You wonder if he stayed by the Doors when he died, or if he tried to run his old routes one last time, operating on instinct alone.

A shadow passes in front of you, darkening the pear green knives into something like the needles of the pine trees. A boy comes with the shadow, free of charge, and he slumps down next to you, pausing briefly to slide the stone away from your left elbow before lying down on his back. You turn your head, placing your right cheek on your interlaced fingers to stare at him.

Newt has always been beautiful in the sunlight. Even now, in this uncertain gray somewhere between overcast and clear skies, his eyes catch the faint bars of sunshine and turn from brown to gold. With a pang of agony deep between your ribs, it reminds you of the blond crown of Ben’s hair. You wonder if his eyes will ever shatter scarlet like Ben’s temples did too, at the end, when he hurt himself so badly he never came back, and your eyelids flinch shut to stop yourself from seeing it.

When you manage to open your eyes again, a cloud has passed over the sun, coaxing Newt’s eyes back to a woody brown, and it’s okay to look at him again. He’s looking at you too now, the lines on his face deepening with regret. You’re mirrors, the two of you, perfect pictures of guilt and misery reflecting back again and again until you’re certain you’re going to dissolve into each other for good.

“It’s not your fault,” Newt whispers. His throat is dry, and his voice cracks on most words.

“It’s not your fault either,” you murmur back. “Not Minho’s, not Alby’s. These things happen.”

Newt’s lips press together, and you know he’s going through the same swoops of grief as he remembers every Glader you’ve lost over the past few years.

“You know, I remember when he just started out as a Runner,” Newt says quietly. “Stupid shank. He was terrible at directions but he tried so damn hard that he actually fixed his own shuck memory. You should have seen him smile the first time he got a route right without one of us having to correct him. Could have powered the sun.”

He sighs, a sob trapped in the sound. To distract him, you ask, “Why’d you let him stay on as a Runner if he kept getting lost? Wouldn’t it be dangerous?”

Newt looks up at the sky, remembering. “We didn’t have many Runners in the early days. We had to take what we could get. Besides, Nick was dead set that it was better for morale if people weren’t letting the Runners quit so soon. He was early in his days as first-in-command, so we wanted to believe him. Ben got better anyway. Soon he was just as good as any of us.”

Newt’s voice trails off a little, and you know him well enough to guess what he’s thinking– if they had switched Ben out anyway, maybe he wouldn’t have been in the Maze, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten Stung, and maybe he wouldn’t have tried to kill Thomas. Maybe he wouldn’t have been Exiled. Maybe he’d still be here, and you wouldn’t be lying here trying to suppress this invisible wound bleeding out both of you without spilling a single drop of blood.

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat.

“It’s no one’s fault,” Newt says listlessly. “That’s official protocol for when someone gets exiled, you know. Nick made that klunk up too. Said people knew the rules, so if they broke ‘em, it was on their shoulders, not ours.”

“Doesn’t explain why I feel like I should have saved him, though,” you mutter.

Newt nods in agreement, expression tired. “We’re going to get through this,” he says dully. “Same way we got through every other friend we lost. We’re going to pick ourselves up and we’re going to move on. We’ll stop thinking about him.”

“No, we won’t,” you say, and continue before Newt can interrupt. “We’re never going to forget Ben, and it would be awful not to. We’re just going to stop feeling guilty, that’s all. We’ll think about Ben as Ben, not how he was after he got stung.”

“Is that fair to Ben?” Newt asks. “If we ignore what happened to him? I’d be mad, I think. Feels like we’re cheating.”

You let out a long breath. “When you think about Ben, what comes to mind? Your gut instinct, I mean. Not the first awful thing about the Doors shutting on him, but what Ben really is to you. Is it the thing we had to strap to the bed in the Med-Jack hut when he was so strung out that he was hardly human at all? Or is it the shuck kid who kept making too many left turns and followed you and Minho everywhere?”

Newt closes his eyes, half in agony, like he’s begging for strength from someone who isn’t listening. “Runner Ben. Not him when he was sick. That’s Ben to me.”

“Exactly,” you say. “That’s our Ben. That’s what matters. He wasn’t Ben at the end. Ben would never hurt us.”

And Ben would never beg for you to save him. He would never look at the Maze like a bad dog, terrified, and he would never stand there for so long once he was past the Doors, as if he had forgotten the way again.

Newt reaches out and takes your hand, gripping your fingers almost painfully, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Promise me, Y/N. If something happens, if I get stung or if I– if I– again– Tell me you’ll do the same for me. You’ll remember me as me.”

You choke back a sob. “Nothing’s going to happen, Newt.”

He squeezes your hand again, insistent. “You heard Ben. He was saying all kinds of stuff, saying the world out there was terrible. If it does, you have to promise– you have to promise–”

He’s manic and terrified in a way that shocks you. Newt is the calm one, always has been, except that one time that terrified you just as bad as this. If he isn’t in control, then you’ll have be that for him.

“I promise,” you say as calmly as you can. “You’ll always be my Newt. Always.”

He relaxes suddenly in your grasp, still as death. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat.

He pulls you close to him, your head tucked against his collarbone, heart to heart and rib to rib. The sun warms you both, dappling skin and hair and clothes. It’s going to be a while until you stop hearing Ben’s last scream when you’re locked in sleep. It’s going to be a while before you remember how to go about living like usual again. If there’s one comfort in all of this, at least, it’s that you won’t be alone. With Newt, you never will be.

maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @bonesnplywood, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list: @wordsarelife, @supervoldejaygent

[dietpitt]

💚🎃Green Is Definitely Your Color🎃💚

Stan Pines x AFAB!Reader Explicit | 2.8k words Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader wears a dress, Halloween Costumes, Trick-or-Treating, Sexual Roleplay, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Stan is a Leg Man, Body Worship, Marking Kink, Reader Plays Bride of Frankenstein

In which body paint and Stan's mouth save the day (but ruin a perfectly good costume).

{Read on AO3}

Author's Note: Originally posted 2020 on AO3, but I wanted to give it a proper tumblr post. I'm very proud of this one except I didn't know how to end it and it shows lol

Thankfully, there are only a few things you and your boyfriend don’t see eye-to-eye on. Stan takes his coffee black (old habit from the days of shoddy motels and a life on the run), while your own brew of choice is iced (lasts longer and doesn’t get cold since it already is). He thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to scare a baby every now and then, and proceed to laugh in their pudgy little tear-streaked face. You? You told him he’d be the one bawling if you ever caught him pulling that in your periphery again.

Tonight, though? Tonight is the perfect example of just how good you two are together. Because tonight, you weren’t scaring babies. Tonight, on Halloween, you were scaring kids. And that was worlds apart from wreaking havoc in the grocery store, which happened the majority of the remaining 363 days of the year.

Sure, Stan always goes all-out for his beloved Summerween, but October 31st is when his freak flag really flies. It makes sense--  Fall brings less tourists than usual, and shorter daylight hours means fewer parents letting their kids come out to the woods to trick or treat, making every opportunity for a scare count.

With the Mystery Shack trading its typical kitsch for spooky ephemera-- fully decked out in giant spiderwebs, ghoulish figures, and angry jack-o-lanterns-- it’ll truly be a dramatic sight to behold.

But, for all the elaborate planning, special effects to make the eyes pop out of his skull and the bolts on his neck to spark and smoke, Stan still manages to miss a few spots needing body paint. 

“Alright, alright, I think y’got it,” Franken-Stan fake-grumbles up at you from his seat in front of the full-length mirror.

“Will you relax? You’re gonna sweat, and I’ll have to do your makeup all over again,” you scold, though your painted lips curl into a fond grin despite yourself.

Though the kids will start coming any minute, you’re set on completing the finishing touches, if for no other reason than to keep Stan from further grumbling later.

… And most certainly not because you also love the opportunity to dote, holding him close in ways he’d otherwise be too shy about. Not at all.

“Are you going to wear your glasses?” You ask, getting his ears nice and green with the sponge brush.

He gives it some thought. “As much as it hurts the spook factor, I can’t really scare anybody if I fall on my face.”

Another, final once-over at your work and you’re satisfied, stepping back and raising your arms in the air triumphantly to steal yourself for your best mad-scientist cackle. “My creation! It’s aliiiive!” 

Stan laughs, quickly standing and caging you with his arms against the wall. “Damn right. Alive as ever.”

You shoo both him and the remark away, looking over your white “dress” (old sheet) to check for any green that may have made its way onto your costume. “I thought you were in a hurry, hmm? There’s no time for a touch-up. Now, be a good ‘husband’ and carry the train.”

Stan’s eyes roll as he lifts the gown, following your lead downstairs. “Yes, honey.”

Trying very carefully not to trip, Stan helps you down the stairs. “I still think it’s dumb that The Bride of Frankenstein doesn’t get a name, though. Sure, she’s in it for all of three minutes, but she gets the movie named after her and doesn’t even get a line?”

“Nah, she just screams,” Stan laughs, dropping your dress as you meet the front door. “Like it hurts to exist.” He swings the door open and the both of you speak in unison.

“She gets it.”

You share a small laughing fit at that, making your way outside into the crisp autumn air, giddy to begin the festivities. A few to last-minute adjustments and tech checks, and The Shack will be ready.

“Seriously though-- why can’t she be, like, Victoria or something?”

Over by the skeleton crawling out from under the porch, Stan snorts. “Victoria? Why?”

You shrug. “Why not?”

“Touche.”

It’s finally the tail-end of the second hour, and you’re in position behind the semi-trapdoor mechanism on the porch, hidden behind a dark and stormy castle standee. You’re high on the energy so far, after making some kids scream-squeal in delight. Although, you did manage to terrify a toddler on accident without even trying-- the poor thing burst into tears at the mere sight of you walking out normally from the porch.

Maybe it was the semi-realistic stitches on your flesh? Who knows. All that’s clear is you felt awful, but Stan was very clearly amused-- and jealous, you’d wager.

But now that it’s past bedtime for most little ones, it’s time to up the ante with some added special effects-- and the fast-approaching gaggle of baby teens seem to be the first that’ll enjoy them.

Always on top of it, Stan lets out a Frankenstein-like groan, marching further from the end of the porch, arms raised in cheesy classic style. The kids stop in their tracks as he clears his throat roughly to give the spiel he’s practiced all night, an extra ~spooky~ lilt to his otherwise mostly-normal voice:

“Foolish humans! You daaaare demand gifts, when your hubris created me from cursed flesh, and your hatred ensured my demise?!” He’s truly in his element as his neck bolts flicker for emphasis, making most of the middle schoolers jump and gasp.

The one at the front of the pack though, doesn’t budge, instead holding their pumpkin bucket out with an overall look of disinterest. “Yeah, duh. Trick-or-treat, old man. Hand over the candy.”

“Rude little shit,” you frown, not even needing to see Stan’s face to know he’s going to enjoy this particular scare very much.

“Hold it, kid, ” Stan sneers, continuing his introduction, “if you want anything good to eat, you’ll need to ask the most blood-curdling-- ”

You flip the switch for the fog machine, and bellows of grey creep in around the Shack--

“--The most SPINE-TINGLING, repulsive monster of us all--!”

You quickly step on the nearby button, and lightning flashes across the house as thunder sounds--

“ --MY WIFE! ”

At his signal, your spring forward, eyes crazed as a horrendous banshee screech leaves your throat and white tendrils wave in the wind.

The rude kid screams-- and while Stan bursts out laughing and you smile evilly, you miss them reflexively reach into their bucket, pull something out, and chuck it right at you before scampering away.

With a dull thud, the projectile lands on your head with a muffled thud, sending you off balance and toppling off the platform in a second. You hear Stan’s barks at the hoodlum, but soon he’s up the porch at your side, just as surprised as you are.

“The hell-- you alright, babe?”

Stan helps you up as you glance around for the offending object that’s left your head and the arm that broke your fall aching. “I-- what the fuck was that?!”

A large, off-white sphere rolls along a groove in the deck, moved by your shifted weight. It hits the edge of your shoe, and you pick it up to find it’s…

A popcorn ball.

A really fucking heavy, rock-hard popcorn ball.

With a splotch of white from your forehead smeared across it.

Stan’s bursts out laughing, though he doesn’t let his supposedly helpful grip on your waist go. “Who the hell gave that thing out?? They must’ve been saving it for last century-- ”

It’s funny. Like, really funny. Comedy freaking gold.

But your head hurts and you fell, and shit, your wig’s messed up…

Your own laughter breaks suddenly, and before you even know it you’re tearing up.

Franken-Stan blanches the soon as it hits him. “H-hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry-- are you alright?”

The comforting hands on your shoulder, the concern in his voice breaks the dam, tears spilling out despite your mind knowing better, and wanting to continue laughing it off like you should-- like you want to.

“I’m fine Stan, I’m fine, I-- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I really don’t,” you laugh, dabbing at your eyes with a bandage-covered hand. “That was too perfect.”

“Don’t apologize, that kid’s an asshole.”

“An asshole with a hell of a pitch,” You laugh, finally meeting Stan’s eye. 

“Wanna go inside? It’s gettin’ late anyway,”

“No! No, are you kidding? We just got started with the lightning! I’m fine, I promise--”

He raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Really, I am. I’m the most horrifying creature of them all, right?”

“Hah! Sure are, sweet thing, sure are.”

“Then let’s get back to scaring. I’ll be ready to duck this time.” You laugh, elbowing Stan before getting back into place, and Stan follows.

11:27pm

There hasn’t been a kid in nearly 30 minutes, and with another hour under your belt, the pair of you are content to turn in for the night for some movies and the Halloween goodie bags left behind by scared trick-or-treaters.

Flopping down on the bed, your tired body practically sings. “Goddd, that kid really got me good.” The hands on your face muffle your words, but Stan gets the idea.

Taking pity on you, he pulls up the nearby chair and starts unlacing one of your boots for you. “Happens in the line of duty sometimes. Shoulda seen what one fairy princess threw at me one year-- actually, I don’t even wanna know what it was.” He jokes(?), tossing the shoe aside and beginning on the other.

“Knocked me down at the top of my game…” you mutter, twiddling with the end of a splayed-out strip of your garment.

“Hey,” Stan drops the other boot to the floor with a thud, quickly peeling off the striped sock that lay underneath. “Don’t forget, you scared the absolute shit out of that brat.”

You let out a hum, then chuckle. “Triggered his fight and flight.”

"Exactly,” he replies definitely, sling-shotting the second sock in the air. It lands on your chest, but you quickly toss it over to nowhere in particular.

“I don’t know if I can even get back up. Just let me die here,” you groan, only half-joking as the strenuous activities of the day catch up to you. “I’ll be a corpse for next Halloween.”

“Well, yer already halfway there in that getup,” Stan shrugs off the jacket of his costume and lets it fall on the chair. A glance across your form reminds him of the “bolts” attached to his neck, which he peels off with a wince. “And I’m not far behind ya.”

“I’ll be lucky if I look this good when I’m dead,” you laugh, adjusting to get more comfortable and fully prepared to just pass out, wig and all.

Stan’s eye catches on the bare skin of your leg that’s revealed when you shift, the stark white of your gown falling to the side as it bends at the knee and the other still hangs off the bed uselessly. He hums, appreciative of the sensual view of you before him: limbs draped out, black eye makeup smudged...

Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Stan’s large hand on your knee, and you’re met with a familiar mischievous grin on Stan’s still-green face. “Mmm, you’re already bewitching, babe.” 

That look always manages to send a pang through your gut. “Oh, stop it…”

This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined the night ending, but don’t mind all that much if it’s headed where you think it’s headed.

“‘M serious,” Stan chuckles. “Yer right about The Bride too… never appreciated enough,” His thumb rubs a circle on the soft flesh on the inside of your knee, and you can’t help but sigh at the nice pressure. 

Your stomach nearly flips when he slides to his own knees, grip moving down your calf and lifting your leg to place a playful kiss to your ankle. His name falls from your lips in a whine, equal parts warning and pleading, for exactly what you can’t decide. You’re answered nonetheless by another peck just above the previous, then another with the slightest bit of teeth that makes you gasp and prop up onto your elbows.

The sight is absolutely ridiculous -- Frankenstein’s monster himself between your legs, smiling dumbly as he nips at the neglected one before he pushes excessive fabric up and off to reveal more of your form. “Stan, we-- oh my god--”

It’s when he pulls you forward on the bed that you see it: the splotches of deep green coloring the trail Stan is continuing up your thigh with a knowing look.

You laugh at first, starting to push him away so you can properly remove your dress, but he tuts, gripping your hips instead and curling an arm around your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder with an in-character groan: "You go nowhere.

You’re torn between teasing him about the fact that he’s really roleplaying as fucking Frankenstein right now, and the shudder that rolls through you as Stan noses your center through the cotton, saying: “Mine .”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say when his mouth meets between your thighs, teasing your folds through the fabric with a brazen tongue. You let yourself go then, leaning into the anticipation as after a moment Stan tugs the garment down and off, though it catches on your foot and is left dangling there uselessly.

“You’ll be screamin’ for me, don’t you worry,” he says, breath ghosting over your core before fully tucking in.

There’s no energy left in you to scream, but the needy whimpers and moans that escape as he ushers you up towards pleasure are melodic, a siren song that urges Stan to keep delving into your cunt, to hold your thighs open with a possessive grip.

“F-fuck,” you cry, reaching down and threading your fingers through his mop of black-sprayed hair between your legs. He groans mid-lap at your clit, and you gasp as his hands join in on the ministrations, caressing and petting from your hips to your stomach.

It’s when he starts sucking that you start to really writhe, tugging roughly at his locks to push him deeper. He slurps your arousal right up, the sound mortifying yet helping thrust you closer to the fast-approaching peak.

“C’mon, honey,” Stan says, thumb maintaining a rhythm on your clit. “Come for me, darling.”

The foreign pet name does it, sending a rolling orgasm that hits you in waves, crying out Stan’s name and other sweet nothings before going limp.

After a moment he sits back, more than proud as he wipes his mouth and watches you twitch and moan through the lingering pulses.

“Wow-- what was that all about?” You manage to pant out, made curious again as Stan stands suddenly, walking over to the mirror on the far-side of the room.

“Check it out,” he says, bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed and leaning against it with a self-satisfied grin.

Sitting up, your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and glowing-- with a prominent mess of green smeared along your skin, practically outlining each and every touch that made you come undone. A few complete hand prints are even visible, on the backs of your knees, on your hip-- even a comically clear outline against the stark white of your covered chest.

Your face burns hot as you can’t help but laugh in disbelief, both at what you see and the unexpected thrill of it; it’s delightful, and silly, and sexy, and overall just an image you think won’t leave your head for a while.

Stan chuckles at your reaction, pleased. “S’a good look on ya-- damn near electrifyin’ , some might say.”

“Come here,” you ask, arms out to beckon him forward. He does, and you don’t miss the prominent bulge in his trousers as he walks over.

Pulling him down by his shirt, you lock him into an appreciative kiss, raking your nails across his scalp and practically pulling him on top of you to continue the makeout, bed size be damned.

Needing air, you finally break away, glancing back at the mirror to see green now decorating your mouth and cheeks. “You’d missed a spot,” you inform Stan, pointing to the new addition to your face.

He hums, ducking down to nip at your neck and clavicle, painting them just the same. “Could think of a few more spots needin’ a touch-up,” he growls, rolling his hips.

Snaking your hand into the band of his pants, Stan lets out another groan at your touch and when you say lightly into his ear:

“Looks like you could use some white with that green, hmm?”

Happy Spooky Season!! 🎃💚🎃

[Masterlist]

dividers by @strangergraphics and @firefly-graphics

[multiheadcanons]

RED/BLU DIFFERENCES

scout: blu’s scout is the original scout that red’s scout was extracted from. blu’s scout is slower to confrontation and fight. doesn’t mean he won’t, just means he won’t immediately jump to solving things physically. blu is more perceptive, and curious. it gets him in trouble. red’s scout is a problem solver, not a problem finder. explosive energy. blu takes a minute to get revved up. they find a slight rivalry between each other; but they mainly wonder who came from who, and what came from where.

soldier: blu’s soldier is the original that red’s soldier was extracted from. blu was quite literally a perfect soldier before this. he’s quieter with the existence of his counterpart. does a lot of thinking. it makes him an effective and ruthless battle planner. but he can’t help but hesitate on the field. especially seeing himself. he just can’t separate himself from the other. he can’t separate any of the men in his battalion from the enemy. they’re exact replicas. it takes too much brainpower to not treat the enemy as his friend, and his friend as the enemy. he ends up secluding himself.

pyro: there’s no real difference between the two, even if you squint. they both get along just fine. nobody knows which came from the other. they will both live their lives once this is over. there’s just two of them out there now to keep track of. neither one of them has warned the other about the steadily building case file against them both. and they both keep adding to their growing list of legal issues. so if one gets caught that one’s getting the whole reference section of the library thrown at them. the other will come to save them though.

heavy: red’s heavy is the original that blu’s heavy was extracted from. it took something from him. he doesn’t know what. he feels fine, generally. but the sun is colder. he feels the wind chill faster. laughter is not as filling. he is not as fulfilled. something is fundamentally different. it is missing. blu’s heavy is like… santa but violent. dudes never had a bad day in his life. any day he gets to take a life is a good day to him. every day is a good day to die.

demo: red’s demo is the original that blu’s demo came from. he lost his drive. red’s demo is more than willing to laze a day away, and finds himself seduced by the drink more often than not, but when he gets his head on his shoulders, he feels pretty okay. smart, hardy, perceptive… enough. blu’s demo is almost as sensitive as his bombs. he’s itching to move, to go, to get the jump on the red team before they can get the jump on them. he drinks to slow himself down. he’s trying to learn to stop and think, it isn’t easy for him. he doesn’t know why.

engineer: blu’s engineer is the original that red’s engineer was extracted from. blu’s engie is a very serious person with a lighthearted tone. red’s engie is probably one of the chillest guys you’ll meet with an iron grip of control on every facet of his life. the only other way it can be described is red engie is never worried, because red engie has singlehandedly controlled every facet of his environment, down to the particles of dust. blu engie can’t even find the will to make moves like that anymore, and ends up laughing at the things he can’t change, or can change with immense effort. at the end of the day, they are both mad scientists. red engie’s evil laugh pitches up. they’re gonna let each other live, but they’re settling who gets to take the name dell conagher with a fight when this is all over. they planned, separately, to kill each other in that fight. time will tell who gets to be the dell conagher and who ends up the dead conagher.

medic: red medic is the original that blu medic was extracted from, and blu hates red for that reason. understands in all senses he just… is the medic. he looks like him, speaks like him, got his name. he’s got the same memories up until the split. but it was like the red doctor removed his conscience and built the blu one out of that. blu medic sits with so much guilt. and an insane inferiority complex. he doesn’t want to be the blu medic, he wants to be the medic. as opposed to red’s medic, who doesn’t even consider his blu counterpart as an actual living being even though he created him, so by that stance is the medic. blu’s willing to kill his counterpart to become the only dr. ludwig. he likes to think he’s better than the red medic because he feels bad about the horrible things he’s done, he claims he can’t help his nature. red medic laughs because if all that separates them is guilt, then is his blu counterpart really all that better? blu goes by fritz because he hates the name herbert. blu hates a lot of things about himself. and his counterpart. he’s got a lot of big dreams that require the disappearance of the other to set into motion. and while that may not have been in red’s plan, herbert doesn’t care what fritz does. he hasn’t felt this light in decades.

sniper: red sniper is the original that the blu sniper was extracted from. a lot of snipe’s humor left him when he woke up from the operating table. nothing was nearly as funny as he had felt prior. it took him a while to get jokes again. and blu sniper is just a guy but different. likes his job, does his job well, actually a generally very easygoing and accepting guy. honestly pretty goofy. red snipes has a lot of questions before he’s willing to accept answers. they will kill each other on the battlefield if the opportunity presents itself. otherwise they’re actually pretty cool with each other! they go out and say they’re twins. easier than saying “yeah i got a free lobotomy and the doctor and his engineer friend grew this out of the removed grey matter.”

spy: the blu spy is the copy of the original spy that the red spy was extracted from. the original blu spy died in the procedure. just flatlined after anesthesia was given. the respawn machine hadn’t been activated yet; and medic had a dead body on his table that he did not plan for. it had been a while since he had dealt with that. it’s a big reason medic no longer uses anesthesia on the mercs. nobody actually got to know the original spy that had signed onto the team as a mercenary. but between his two counterparts and the son that survived him, we get a pretty good idea that spy was a charming, cunning man with selective empathy and a brutal tone. the red spy got all of the charm, the blu spy got all the empathy, and they are both quicker than a whip, mentally. love playing mind games with each other. medic and engie didn’t feel a need to conceal from them that neither of them were the original, like they did with the others, who’s source material was still alive. they showed them their host corpse in the morgue. explained what happened. said at this point, they could be anything they wanted. it’s what the original has always been best at. they both found niches in the team they had the means to fill and filled them. neither one has reached out to the original spy’s family, or families. they will probably never do so.

[rewritingcanon]

hpng characters and how they study for exams because im literally dying rn

rose- academic weapon. need i say more. she has the pomodoro technique down pat. she’s the girl at your local library claiming an entire table with an outlet to herself so she can plug her chunky ass laptop into it and make sure it doesn’t explode on her. she has a sugary iced drink near her at all times but she only takes a sip when she feels she’s deserved it. she eats dinner at 1am because she will not let herself move from her desk until she’s completed the practicals she has laid out in front of her. but trust that she’s losing hair and she’s greasy asf and her short fuse is basically nonexistent. she’s also always randomly sick during exam prep, but her symptoms are never bad enough to warrant a doctor’s visit, it’s only hella inconvenient so she’s chugging neuyrofen and vitamin c like her life’s on the line. no special consideration for her. when she experiences one minor setback (technical malfunction, stubbed her toe, bit her tongue etc) she starts angry crying immediately. just don’t speak to her during exam time, she’ll slap you for breaking her concentration.

albus- exam period what exam period. what are you talking about. these assignments aren’t worth half of his grade what do you mean. you’re telling him the essay was due at 5pm today and not 11:59………………. number one— doesn’t cope well at all. in denial until the twenty-four hour mark before his assignments are due and then will lock in as hard as he can but it is absolutely not a pretty process. so don’t even talk to him about it before then. number two— it’s not like he was relaxing during swotvac (idk the british term for swotvac leave me alone) period, my boy was stressed asf he was just procrastinating. you know when you’re too stressed to do literally anything. albus is a prisoner during exam period free my boy. he can’t study, he can’t relax. when he fucks up because of his poor time management he will psychoanalyse everything about himself and convince himself he’s the stupidest mammal to walk on two legs with five fingers. the mental abuse he puts himself through after submitting the shittiest 2000 word essay is crazy. but he is an affront to the english language (he’s surprisingly alright at exams cuz he’s really good at bulshitting, just don’t make him write anything longform 😭 he can’t back up his impassioned opinions with any evidence ok)

victoire- she is the influencer on studytok that makes studying for eight hours straight look like the most aesthetically pleasing pastime ever. her skin is clean, her hair is washed, her clothes are pressed, her eating and sleeping schedule is routine. she’s so not real.

james- most people think he’s an academic weapon because most people will just see the results he gets at the end of the marking period and conclude he’s hella smart. but if they saw the type of basement-dwelling creature he turns into during the study period they would be horrified. he doesn’t touch grass, he doesn’t leave his room, his lips are chapped asf. in fact his room is growing into a whole new ecosystem to account for the cave-dwelling lifestyle james has going on. he’s got the most psycho routine ever, no sane person would replicate this. he’s so mad-scientist-scribbling-incoherent-observations-at-his-barely-lit-desk-at-midnight core. he never sleeps, he only has intervals of three hour naps so it doesn’t disrupt his sleep inertia. friends can’t text or call or reach out to him— he’s on dnd for the next two weeks. you’d think he died. his siblings think he’s doing cocaine in his room to keep himself up. there is the occasional james sighting around 5am where he may trudge out of his room like a night stalker to make himself tea. his face is gaunt and ghostly and his body is brittle and awkward. don’t speak to him because he’s not going to respond he’s too busy spacing out through the entire exam period. if you do get a word out of him it’ll probably not be in a language understood in this world. best he keep to his room.

hugo- he’s absolutely broke yet the only way he can cope is through impulsive storms of online shopping and doing shopping hauls on his close friends. if he had it his way he’d wind down the night with some dti with the boys but hermione has that boy’s arse glued to the dining chair and she and rose are circling hawks scrutinising all of his answers and then insisting to mark his pracs for him. in all realness they do save him because his marks are always pretty good in the end.

teddy- simply did not study if the subject didn’t appeal to him. one of those woke students that truly believed that marks did not equate to worth. knew he would only feasibly want to pursue careers in the subjects he liked so would prioritise one or two subjects. motivational speaker to all his friends. actually didn’t let exams stop him from living his life. his speeches on the wotters aren’t so successful since a lot of them highkey gaf about their results. rose gets pissed off every time he tries with her. victoire politely ignores him. james is disassociating through the entire speech. he doesn’t even attempt it with percy’s kids. bad luck ted.

lily- if there is a person who is the exact type of person who isn’t built for studying, it’s her. she can get away with it at the start of her schooling, because she is quite smart, but when it gets serious its the biggest humbling ever. she just can’t lock in. she’ll have an exam the next day and suddenly she’s knocking on albus’ door and is willing and wanting to listen to him complain about Life Problem #218. she’s suddenly volunteering to help her mum garden and help her dad cook. she’s going to ‘study sessions’ with friends where she forces them to do anything but study. she’s binge watching shows with james. she’s picking up a new hobby in juggling. she’s attacked by a new hyperfixation she can’t get out of her head and she has to spend 6 hours a day looking at fanart. like girl go study. james will give her the most bomb (but lowkey psycho) tips on how to lock in and she’ll get motivated until she looks at her prac and sees an 8 mark short answer question. like goodnight she’s having a nap. also she eats everything in the fridge, no snacks are safe. fuck the no sugar rule fr. she’s not even hungry she just convinces herself she is so she can do literally anything else besides that 8 mark question waiting for her on her desk in her room.

dominique- would drop out.

scorpius- he’s a fucking freak because he probably likes the stress of exam period 💀 like he probs does feel stress about it, but since he’s always constantly stressed out this isn’t anything new to him. “i get to pour over all my in-detail notes i’ve written on all these subjects through the semester again?? and then do an assessment regarding the in-detail notes i have? yippee!!” his optimism is absolutely not shared by his peers but he’s so oblivious to it. he’s fantasising about what topic questions he’ll get and what his damn body paragraphs are going to be. he’s the guy seated behind you in the exam who unintentionally peer pressures you by requesting for another booklet because he’s written too much in the first. he’s the one joyfully skipping up to you after the test is over and excitedly asking for what you wrote about or what answers you got, and when he shares his responses with you, you realise his points were better or his answers were actually correct. and then he’s emailing his teachers every week asking for when the marks will be released because he’s just so excited. weirdo.

[colourstreakgryffin]

OneShot req: Papa Pentious with female lizard Toddler & Egg Boiz moving in hotel and chaos starts when lizard daughter starts get attached very much towards the radio demon and stares calling him allystor? (much to pentoius dislike!)

Oooh! I actually like this idea quite a lot and it sounds very silly and cute! I think Pentious can be a decent dad, probs a goddamn mess of one! He has the heart to care but he’s still a disaster! I’m excited for this!

Sir Pentious- Sneaky Little Amphibian

Sir Pentious kinda did not suspect the day he’d become a father but he kinda just impulsively decided that. Yes, you are now his daughter and he will raise you to be the most perfect mad scientist Hell will ever see! In one second, he’s looking down at you. The next, he’s carrying you off with his Egg Bois marching loyally behind him

Sir Pentious doesn’t usually include you in his attempts to concur Pentagram City, defeat Alastor and become recognised by the Vees to become a mighty Overlord. Since, the last thing he wants is to include the only being he has that is vulnerable and dear to him so during his tyraids, you’re hidden away for your own good

As he loves you so much so it’s only better you don’t join, unlike your many older Eggie siblings. They can handle the trips, you can’t

To cut a story short, after Sir Pentious was busted for working for the Vees in order to defeat the Hazbin Hotel, however was accepted by Charlie and her squad. He ended up moving into Hotel. Which, yes, especially included you

Sir Pentious is as prideful of you as he is of his own inventions and of his Egg Bois. He flaunters you around and yells that you’re the cutest thing to ever exist and that you’re all his, you’re his daughter! Nobody else’s!

Sir Pentious, as your father, is protective and clingy. Like, so possessive that he’ll fight to keep people away from you and he’d rather give his tail away than letting somebody else hold you. You’re his precious little toddler and you’ll never like anybody more than him!

However, your beloved kooky father never has an issue with you being taken care of by his Egg Bois… but it’s kinda rare since well… that herd isn’t the most competent beings to exist

Sir Pentious has been… coping with living in this Hotel and with his precious pudgy scaly little potato of a child yet… he doesn’t like it anymore! How dare this disastrous situation happen?! He won’t ever forgive him—

Sir Pentious is outraged, fuming and bubbling like a boiling hot kettle. His broad hands balled up so much that his claws are digging into his own flesh as he watches with sharp slit eyes from across the room, Charlie Morningstar notices her new client’s distress and tries to ask what’s wrong in her usual caring optimistic manner but is met with a rageful hiss of a angry and jealous snake

“Look at him!”

Sir Pentious growls out furiously as he points out Alastor to Charlie… the Radio Demon, smiling with a sense of discomfort and dislike but hiding it rather well as he is looking down at the little adorable lizard-like sinner babygirl cuddling his pant leg by his own feet, his ears pinned back and red eyes flaring. This disgusts him but even HE has standards and he won’t harm children… he just hopes whoever owns this brat will take her away

Charlie tries to sweetly encourage Sir Pentious to not be mad at his beloved toddler’s new interest in Alastor and just go to you and have some father-daughter time as nobody’s really stoping him, yet Sir Pentious is not listening to the Princess’ attempts to help since he’s pulsing with envy and revenge, all against Alastor for the fact you’ve gone from liking your actual dad to liking HIM! That deer is not your daddy and never will be

“My eggie likes that screechy radio! Why doesn’t she like me?!”

Sir Pentious is almost about to bawl at this as he picks off his infamous tall tophat and squeezes it, the fangs and single eye on the silky fabric gritting up from him using the said sentient item as a stress reliever via his merciless grip. His long gracious eye-lined snake-ish tail wrapping up around himself from raw distraught that his daughter doesn’t ‘love him’ anymore

Charlie does her best to comfort her hotel client from his fatherly love-induced mess of a emotional state, it’s so intense that tears are always forming as he watches the way you cling onto Alastor’s pant leg stubbornly and mumble out your cute baby noises plus the little word of ‘Allystor!’ to try get the infamous overlord’s attention

Why won’t you cling onto his tail and blurt out ‘Daddy’? Did he do something wrong?! Sir Pentious won’t stop until he makes this right and make you love him again! The red man doesn’t deserve it, nobody deserves it like he does. He looks after you, he loves you, he spends so much money on you, he’s given you the best home and the best big siblings a child could ask for!

Sir Pentious can only angrily and jealously glare at you and Alastor for a moment or two longer, Charlie nervously and quietly at his side, still trying to convince him to go out there and prove he loves you, his little daughter, but he’s stuck. Also surrounded by his squeaking little Egg troops, he doesn’t know how to civilly approach Alastor without telling him to get the fuck away from you

All Sir Pentious can think in this moment, his world almost zoning out as he keeps examining every second you lovingly crawl on Alastor and squeak out his name for his attention. All he can think of is…

You don’t deserve him. He is the best dad, how could you betray him and go to another guy for love?

…

“I think I’ll go to the Deer, Ms. Morningstar”

[delulu-is-da-solulu]

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓽.:｡+•

Pt. 2

2k12 Donnie! X fem!reader

Pt. 1

AN- In this chapter I was kinda just trying to establish your relationship with the turtles and April. So if you don’t like it I really am sorry. But hopefully part 3 will be better. Enjoy! <3

Word count - 1046

Well the whole mutant thing went down last month, and you’re still trying to process what happened. I mean to go on a walk and almost freeze to death, just to be saved by a girl you couldn’t even call a good acquaintance and her mutant friends! Turns out the whole rat thing happened because they made a crazy scientist guy mad, or they did something to piss him off… and their dad is a rat, he’s cool.

Because you don’t go to school you’re in the lair with the guys a lot, and you’ve gotten to know them better.

Leo is such a dork, not in a smart way like Donnie but in a funny way. He tries sooo hard to be a good leader so he copies the ones in cartoons, like spock from startrek, and robin from teen titans. And the reason this is so dorky is cuz it’s so obvious what he’s doing, and when his training exercises don’t go according to the plan, (aka if it doesn’t make him look super cool) he gets soo pissy (but his brothers can never know that). Nothing that a pizza can’t fix, ya’ know if Mikey doesn’t Finnish the whole thing within a millisecond, of it being in the lair.

Raph isn’t as angry as everybody says, his anger issues aren’t even that bad. Sure he’s aggressive, but that’s mainly during fights or whenever Mikey is a ten foot radius of him. For the most part he’s pretty chill, & keeps to himself, plus spike.

Everyone made sure to fill you in on the Donnie and April situation, and the weird way he was acting when the two of you first met, instantly make sense. After you informed him that you and April weren’t close, and telling her how great of a guy he was, wasn’t gonna help much, he was devastated. But other than his obsession with April, he’s a cool guy. most times when you’re in the lair, you and Donnie are hanging out in the lab. He helps you with your math and science homework, and you help around the lab in whatever ways possible. Working with Donnie is fun, and he trust you enough to let you in on his schemes to try and win over April. They’re incredibly weird and you doubt any of them will work, but! they’re interesting.

There’s never a dull moment with Donatello. he’s funny- if you get the joke, and the more time you spend with him, the harder it is to not get it. And then there are days when nothing happens, the two of you just hang out in the lab while Don works on blueprints while you’re reading.

And Mikey is kinda gross, but honestly the sweetest thing you’ve ever met. He gets bullied by his brothers a lot, but he’s so nice, the boys are soo mean. Sometimes you and Mikey watch romcoms, or action movies together.

You and April were never friends but she’s actually fun to be around, you, April, and Irma, go out out all the time. Shopping, movies, or just hanging out, it’s so fun being with those two.

And master Splinter doesn’t talk much, but for as much as you know, he’s just a dad making his Sons friends feel welcome in their home. And he taught you how to play shogi, you’ve gotten really good.

Ginger: “Irma had to go home, something with her cat. Wanna go to the lair instead?”

Damn this was disappointing, April and Irma were gassing this movie up sooo much. You made sure not to watch trailers or anything just so you’d be completely blind. But it’s just a movie.

Snow globe: “It’s fine. I’m omw to the hole rn, meet you there <3”

You went back upstairs to put on your old combat boots, then you started making your way to the lair. You love the boys and splinter, they’re great. But doing down into piss, and shit, with your knee high converse, that were around $100 was not! gonna happen.

You met up with April, and the two of you talked about whatever while walking to the lair. School, family, clothes, things weren’t weird until she brought up boys.

“So did you have a boyfriend, or a crush before shit hit the fan?”

“U-h well…” romance wasn’t exactly a topic you were comfortable in. I mean you’ve had crushes but none of them turned out good, and some didn’t even turn. “No, I have a problem with making friends with people I have crushes on. And when I do confess if I do, we’re usually too close of friends for them to reciprocate.” You let out a chuckle trying to make it look as if you don’t care much. “What about you?”

“Uhh… well you know the whole thing with Donnie. And ive gone on a couple dates in my time, but they never ended up anything. So I guess we’re in the same boat.”

“Yeah. I feel bad for you honestly. Donnie’s soo nice, and I love hanging out with him, and you’ll never see that side of him. But at least you have Raph, Leo, and Mikey.”

You look over at April and she’s giving you a somber look. oh fuck, was she offended by what you said about Donnie!? “I’m not saying that you and Donnie will never actually be friends, I’m just saying he’s always tense around you not trying to embarrass himself so he-“

“No, no I get it (Y/N), I’ve accepted it, for now. But he’s obviously gonna grow out of it, and it’ll be like it never happened. I give it the rest of the year.”

“Hah! Don’t you think you’re giving him a little too much grace? Donnie’s like a puppy waiting at the door for his owner to come back when he’s with you.”

The two of you start laughing as you approach the opening of the lair. “As if Donnie’s way too busy to be-“

“April!” Before she’s even two step into the lair Donnie grabs her and holds her in his arms.

“Hi Donnie.” She pats his shoulders obviously uncomfortable. You walk ahead, and you sit on the couch next to Mikey while he plays with ice cream kitty.

“Angela, sir ice cream kitty, how do you do?” You say in a forced posh accent and Mickey follows suit.

“Splendid, the hydrangeas are in full bloom, and they’re a sight to see if I do say so myself.” Ice cream kitty meows after him. A new show started running that takes place in the regency era, about bridges or something. You and Mickey started watching and, it’s quickly becoming one of your favorites.

As you and Mickey are talking, you see April walk over to the old arcade games where Raph and Leo are playing, and you get snatched by Donnie.

“(Y/N)! I need you now!” He whisks you off to his lab, and shuts the door behind him.

“Donnie! Why do you find it necessary to just pick people up!” you snatch his hands off your body, and he apologizes and leads you over to his clipboard.

“Okay hear me out.”

“Donnie I don’t need another 80 step plan on how to get April to text you.”

“It isn’t that. What if I ask her out?”

“No donnie that’s never gon- ASK HER OUT! Donnie that’s like the most normal idea you’ve had. Like EVER, and I’ve only known you for a month.”

“I was thinking a picnic on top a rooftop. Those are always super cute in movies, they have to work irl. Imagine us on a red gingham blanket, with lavender scented candles, a mp3 playing cheesy old love songs, and a whole pizza just for the two of us. How romantic would that be!”

Donnie’s enthusiasm for this was honestly adorable, and if he doesn’t say something weird, you think he might actually have a shot at making this work.

“I mean… it does sound nice. Give it a shot tomorrow night I’ll tell her i need her help with a secret mission… or something?”

“Then instead of you showing up I will, then I’ll lead her to our picnic and she’s sure to fall in love with me.” Donnie was basically bouncing off the walls, his cheeks turned red only at the thought of spending the night with April. You wanted to give him a reality check and say it’s probably not gonna work, but this is actually a good idea. Let’s just give it a shot.

It’s 8pm and the boys went out on patrol. The lair is calm and splinter made tea for you and April, while you’re talking April asks.

“Hey (Y/N) have you thought of training to be a kunoichi with me?”

You chuckled to yourself, “that’s funny” then you continued sipping tea. But when you put your cup down you saw the way April was looking at you and realized she was being serious. “Wait really?”

“Yeah! Don’t you wanna learn ninjutsu?”

“It’s better to learn alongside someone who can push you to do better. and sparing buddies are always fun.” Splinter giggles in whatever way an old rat man can while stroking his beard.

“Uh-“ I mean learning ninjutsu would be fun, but you don’t wanna be another target for the krang or Foot clan. However both foot clan mutants, and krang bots have seen you with the turtles. “I… Sure?”

April jumps on you and wraps her arms around your shoulders, and you held her back. “This is soo exciting! Now you’re really apart of the family.”

There’s a possibility that this is gonna back fire but as long as you have April and the turtles what’s the worst that could happen?

Right after you tell April that you don’t need help anymore, you grab your shell phone and call Donnie. “I just sent her off. Are you in position?”

“Yeah, I have everything ready. And it looks like something straight out of a fairytale! Do you wanna see?”

“Hell yeah, send me a picture.”

“Okay. I’ll do that right after I text April.”

“What are you telling her?” You roll your eyes and the disappointment in your voice is evident.

“I’m telling her I’m seeing suspicious activity from here. and I don’t trust my brothers, so I want her to come instead.”

“…” you stare at you phone with a sheer look of disgust on your face. In what world would that work, “Donnie are you fucking serious?”

“Y- yeah what about it?” He sounds confused from over the phone, and you can’t blame him. I mean the guy has only ever been with his brothers and dad his whole life, he can’t help being stupid.

“Donnie there’s no way that’s gonna-“

“She just replied. SHES ON HER WAY!” You can hear his phone thud on the ground, yet the squeal he let out still pierces your ears.

“I- I gotta go, before April gets here. Wish me luck.” He hangs up the phone.

You’re wishing him luck, but you know this will probably end in vain. It doesn’t matter how cute the fairy lights are, if she doesn’t like you she doesn’t like you.

But hopefully he doesn’t take this one too hard.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 4

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.4

"If we’re going to get to the pit of this peach we gotta get some variables outta the way first. I need a scan of his brain and yours. While conscious.”

“Mine as well?”

“You said he’s your identical twin - he should be genetically the same as you. We can use a scan of your brain as a comparison to see if there’s physical damage on the organ itself, because brain damage is the most common cause of amnesia.”

“I do have the technology available for an in-depth scan, but… ”

 “But what?”

“It’s in the shape of a ray gun, but like a traditional MRI whoever is getting scanned has to stay completely still.”

“I don’t s’pose in the time it took me to go into town and get supplies, you managed to reconcile with him?”

“Reconcile? He’s still convinced I’m a mad scientist out to harvest his organs, 'or worse turn him over to the IRS'- don’t ask about that second part. If I point anything gun-shaped at him, he’ll freak out.”

“Can’t say I blame him…”

“Hush, Fiddleford. There’s an easy way we can get him to hold still.”

“Stanford- Stanford put the tranquilizing doohickey away. We both know that concoction of yours wasn’t formulated with humans in mind. Surely you have less caustic means of sedation.”

---

“Stanford, anyone can tell that bottle’s been tampered with.”

“I have a theory that this persona of his is so self-destructive he’ll still drink it.”

“Y’know, this bottled water tastes suspiciously like two crushed Ambien tablets.” 

*Stan keeps drinking it anyways*  

“I am impressed, but I also hate that your theory was correct.”

*Ford undeafens the cell*

“Stanley, if you think there’s zolpidem in that, why are you still drinking it?”

“You think two Ambien is enough to take me down? Guess again, I’ve used this stuff to cut coke. You’re gonna have to try harder than that, PhD.” 

“Hmm, so we should have used Coca-Cola instead of water…”

“That ain’t what he meant by- how did you survive by yourself out here?”

---

“Hello there …Stan?”

“Sup babe.”

“Don’t call me that. I was wondering - you’re so handsome already, but it’d surely tickle my fancy a bit more if you put on this here necktie.”

“Hell no.”

“Do you not know how to tie one? I’d be happy to-.”

“I know how to tie a tie, specs. But I’ll never wear a necktie ever again. Not after Colombia… I still can’t shave that part of my jaw without nightmares.”

“I beg your pardon?”

---

“I couldn’t convince him to put the mind control tie on.”

“Fiddleford, why are you staring a thousand yards away?”

“He was explaining to me his time in Colombian prison, then he went on a tangent about necklaces and now I don’t think I can change a tire without thinking about it ever again.”

“... Interesting. We’re not resorting to the tranq gun yet?”

“This is your own brother you’re talking about.” 

“There’s only one thing we can do. The only thing that will 99.99% work on my brother. I didn’t think it would have to come to this so soon. But it’s our only unharmful option left.”

---

“Stanley.”

“Doc.”

“I will give you twenty dollars if you stay still for thirty whole seconds.”

“On one hand this is a set up… On the other hand, I’ve done worse for twenty dollars.”

“You what ?”

“Ten bucks up front.”

To be continued...

[obsessive-valentine]

How would your oc’s react to a sick reader?

In sickness and in health

General hcs for some of the yanderes, where darling isn’t seriously sick just a fever or bug. Would love to expand on them if anyone’s interested in a certain scenario.

Barbarian - You woke up feeling awful and weirdly being carried by your ‘husband’ through the camp, it’s still early and very cold but he’s wrapped you up in a blanket. After he woke up and noticed you broke out in a sweat and unusually hot to the touch, he carries you to the camps medic before you have the chance to wake up and understand what’s going on. They prescribe somethings and foods that might move the sickness on quicker and he takes you back to the tent. He still has work to do around camp so he tucks you under the furs tight and stays with you as long as he can ;he works extra hard so he can come back sooner and keep a watch over you while you rest. If it were to get worse he’s stealing medicine from a village or stealing a doctor; holding him captive until your well and letting him go with his life if he succeeds.

Ice Hockey player - He was waiting outside to pick you up and drive you to school, but after his texts go unanswered or opened he knocks on your door. Your parent explains that you’re sick and will be staying home today, so he has to go to school without you and almost worries himself sick too -checking his phone constantly for any messages and counting down the time he has till he can leave and see you. Totally ditches hockey practice if he has one that day and goes straight for your house after picking up your favourite snacks of course. Just hangs around, lingers and worries over you till as late as he can and will sleep on the floor next to you if your parents let him stay the night.

Changeling husband - Stresses the fuck out of this ‘man’. He’s never had to deal with something like this, he can’t get sick in that way and wasn’t interacted in learning about humans so deeply until you came along. So when he woke up to you coughing he falters for a moment, unsure what to do he just rubs your back until the fit is over. He tries to question you, ‘what can he do?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Are you okay?’ But you shrug him off saying is just a common cold, a bit confused whys he’s confused and worried about a seasonal sickness. When you get back to sleep he slips out of bed to sit in the living room with a computer and research remedies and comforts. Puts them all to use in the morning. He’s a bit strict -making sure you don’t make any unnecessary moves but it’s out of concern and love. This also means he’s doing everything for you, even cooking, which he isn’t good at but he’s trying ❤️

Ex-Military-Man - You gotten sick the day before and stayed over at his place so he could take care of you, he insisted because he ‘wouldn’t sleep well knowing how hopeless you are at taking care of yourself’. You wake up to him talking quietly on his phone, when the call ends he explains he’s called out sick of work for you, not giving you a say. He also calls out of any odd job he had booked -and you both spend a peaceful day mostly in bed but then you move to the sofa while he cooks whatever you wish. One of the less worried ones, he just wants to keep an eye on you and make sure you’re not pushing yourself.

Platonic Mad-Scientist - You were meant to be asleep but he could hear from his office that you were still awake, because you were coughing, he thought maybe it was a tickle in your throat so he left you alone but when it got worse he rushed to your room. “What’s going on, you were meant to be asleep a hour ago?” He kept his voice quiet and switched on the nightlight. You explained you couldn’t sleep and didn’t feel well. And after failing to get you to sleep himself by giving you cough medicine, reading you a book, turning on one of the contraptions that he’d made that never failed to get you to sleep before. He gives in and wraps you up in a blanket and takes you downstairs, letting you stay up past your bedtime and watch tv with him for as long as it takes till you fall asleep. He made you, literally, so he knows how to get you feeling better as fast and efficiently as possible, but for now you need to rest.

Farmers darling sick from heat-stroke

Classic Yanderes Darling sick

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｄａｒｌｉｎ ♡

♡ Pairing: massage therapist!san! x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: Just a quick, relaxing massage from this gorgeous man of yours

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Word Count: 830

♡ Warnings: fingering and a sickeningly charming choi san

Lying on your back beneath the cotton sheet it almost feels like you’re being prepped for surgery. San shifts around just outside of your line of vision, lighting candles and mixing oils. Your little mad scientist. “You aren’t falling asleep on me, are you?” he teases, turning the lights down.

“No...”

That’s a lie. Blame it on the soothing music or the oil diffuser lacing the air with delicate, floral notes. You could absolutely drift off to sleep here but there’s no time. San’s at the side of the table rolling his sleeves up with that angelic dimpled smile on his face. “You ready for me, sweetheart?” “Mmhm,” you nod, enchanted by his presence.

Your response comes with a squeak of excitement. San can’t wait to hear what other noises you’ll make before this session’s over. He leans over and kisses the bridge of your nose, “Close your eyes.” You do as you’re told, slipping into a darkness that feels safe and warm. San brings the blanket down to your waist, admiring how your breasts fall free of any restrictions.

Droplets of coconut oil form a path starting between your breasts and ending just above your belly button. San presses his palms firmly against your plush belly, gently stroking up across your ribcage and back down again. There’s something so sensual about the shape of your body. Your softness. He has to remind himself that the whole point of this is to take his time with you but you aren’t making it easy.

San slides his hands beneath your breasts, thumbs meeting in the middle to apply feather-like strokes to your cleavage. Cupping them in his hands, he caresses them in a circular motion teasing you by almost brushing his thumb over your nipples. Your chest subtly rises with his movements, responding to his touch precisely as he wants you to.

He continues to tease you, only stroking your buds when your body’s basically begging him to. Each time his soft skin kisses them they stiffen a little more, so desperate for his attention. Pinching up from the base of your nipple, he rolls them between his fingers. Pleasure rushes through your body, building in intensity the harder he pinches.

San notices you tense up, choking back the moans that your body’s dying to release. “I thought we agreed, no holding back” he pouts, “You want me to stop?” San slips his hands away and in seconds you’re whining, positive you’ll lose your mind if you don’t feel his touch again. “Please, no, don’t stop.”

“You’ll be a good for me, then?” “Yes, Sannie. I will. I swear.” You stick to your word, filling the studio with a symphony of sounds the moment his fingers are back around your buds. “Spread your legs. Show me you’re ready.” You part them, welcoming his fingers between your folds.

You’re more than ready. You’re soaked, dripping all over his table, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Pushing your breasts together, he drags his tongue across your buds savoring one last taste of you before moving to the end of the table. San pulls the sheet to the ground, happy to finally see you completely naked, vulnerable, and addicted to his touch. 

Before San can catch himself, he’s pulling you down to the edge of the table, spreading your legs wider. Your walls pulse in anticipation, not knowing what his next move might be but praying he makes it soon. Using the tip of his pointer finger, he makes small circles on your clit.

That alone has you pulling away, driven wild by the bare minimum. San wraps an arm around your waist, burying his fingers into your thick thighs to keep you close. “No running” he smiles, tracing larger circles around your clit. As punishment, he drives his fingers deep into your warmth, dragging them against that spongy spot inside of you.

He pumps in and out, pushing you to the edge of your high only to deprive you of it at the last second. Adding another finger, he dips into you again, resuming his unforgiving pace. It’s almost evil how much he loves building this pressure up inside of you. What a sight you are to behold. 

There it is again, the tightness in your stomach. In your legs. Your thighs. San rolls his palm against your clit, still fingering your core. Your body coils one last time before you’re coming around his fingers, screaming his name as if it’s the only word you know. His movement inside of you gradually slows down, carrying you through your orgasm.

“Feel relaxed now?” he asks, licking you from his hand. You taste immaculate. Your heart’s pounding but your body feels weightless, floating up in a state of ecstasy. You sigh, emitting a certain glow, “Very much so.” San chuckles, his shirt already up over his head. “Good. Now we can really get started…”  

[valentine-cafe]

May I have a croissant and red velvet cake please!?!?

[Afab reader]

Just thinking about being obsessed with sucking their dick! And they can talk about anything because you just get so dumb and empty-headed when you suck cock!! Like imagine sucking Rishen's cock and Jingyi walks in to talk to him! And you take a second time to notice Jingyi is in the room!! And you get so pouty when you pull yourself away to ask

"Huh? What happened?"

And Rishen will just coo at you, stroking your cheek with her thumb while he tells you

"Nothing baby, keep going."

AAAHHH!! And you do!! But then you realize that Jingyi is right there!! So what's even better than sucking one cock!? Sucking three!!:D So when you pull away this time you won't be so pouty, and you'll look at Jingyi expectantly, and he'll already know what you want!!

"Oh sweetheart, I'm a bit too busy for that."

And you'll just stare at him with big eyes and a pout because you just wanna suck his dick!!:( Sure you're holding Rishen's cock in one hand, but you have another for a reason!!!>:[

"Please daddy?"

And if he wasn't hard before, he sure is now. You already had him when he saw you between Rishen's legs, if we're being honest here. He just likes teasing you. Rishen would tug at the scalp of your hair, snapping your head towards her.

"You haven't forgotten about me have you, carino?"

And you'll just shake your head and get right back to sucking his cock!! You don't want her thinking you're neglecting her!!:( But you also don't wanna neglect Jingyi!! So you'll pull your panties down for him so he can use whatever hole he wants!!:D You just like getting stuffed full of their cocks!!

-🍄

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ verse 209 jìngyí & rishen ⊹ ۪ ࣪

. ˚◞꒰ 🍰 mad scientist x reader, mad doctor x reader, spider monster x reader, moth monster x reader, mantis x reader, snake monster x reader, yanderes x reader, villains x reader, cw: blowjob, oral fixation, double penetration, tendril fucking, cum eating. ꒱

they both find you absolutely adorable. with your sheer need to have their cocks down your throat or pumping at it until you can taste their cum.

this time is no different. rishen strokes his hand through your hair. groaning softly at your skilled lips and uttering hushed praises to you before he’s glancing over at jìngyí and continuing their conversation about the newest experiment.

you don’t have the slightest clue of what they’re talking about. of course you don’t! you’re too busy trying to be a good darling and suck off your lover’s cock in the way that makes him buck his hips.

oh you get so happy when he stutters a thrust. lets you know just how well you’re doing.

when you slip your panties down you feel a smooth appendage down below. yelping when you realise one of rishen’s tendrils ventured between your legs.

this is the only time you’ll part from his cock. a bit of drool on your lips as you huff at him.

“don’t be greedy,”

you give his tip a little tap with your index - and his grin will turn into a laugh. oh, you’re so adorable.

“mhhm, sorry love. can’t help it.”

he’d withdraw just as you feel jìngyí filling you to the brim. pulling your body up and over the other chair so that he does not have to kneel.

“oh you are such a good sweetheart, aren’t you?”

the doctor smiles. reaching forward to play with your head and guide your mouth back down his husband’s cock. he’d lean over to give rishen a quick kiss before they continue their conversation.

all while you’re there between them. getting filled in both holes and completely oblivious to the talk. you don’t care. as long as you’re brimming full.

[sunstone-smiles]

Don't Wake Up Angry!

Original request: Hi Sunstone! I’m a big fan of your Ace Attorney fics, so I’d love to see Phoenix waking up Edgeworth when he’s slept in too long for Day 9. Maybe because of his nightmares or having just solved a difficult case? Up to you! Keep up the good work! : )

Author’s note: Happy Day 9 (Yes, I double checked the calendar again, Lol) of Tickletober everyone! Here’s Day 9: “Wake up” from August’s Tickletober List! I hope you enjoy!

Series: Ace Attorney

Characters: Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth

Word count: 889

Summary: Phoenix needs to wake Edgeworth up so they don’t miss their dinner reservations; although, Phoenix needs to think of a foolproof method of waking him up where Edgeworth can’t get mad at him. Phoenix might have just the solution.

---

“Edgewooorth. It’s time to wake up.” Phoenix walks behind the sofa in the office. He peeks over the cushions to see Edgeworth lying on his back, eyes closed, breath soft, hands on his stomach—sleeping peacefully.

The man deserves the rest. Late night after late night, Edgeworth was working on a case that didn’t have a clear cut answer. It took digging through large numbers of police records and traveling across town to meet witnesses in order to find evidence against a shady defendant, who had the Judge wrapped around their finger by playing the shy little lamb card to the gullible, but kindhearted old judge. Eventually though, Edgeworth found an opening, cracked the case, and sent the guilty defendant spiraling in a breakdown all the way to the police station. And to celebrate all that, Phoenix offered to take Edgeworth to dinner.

After Edgeworth’s much needed nap, of course. As soon as the man removed his red wine-colored jacket and hit the couch, he was out. Phoenix left him to rest, but two hours have passed and their dinner reservations are closing in.

“Edgeworth, wakey wakey.” Phoenix gently shakes his shoulder. No response from the other man. He’s still preoccupied in his slumber.

Phoenix could let him sleep. He knows he needs it. But if he doesn’t wake Edgeworth up now, he might get a scolding later along the lines of, “Wright, why didn’t you wake me up?” Although, he might also get a scolding if he does wake him up. There’s really no winning here.

Although, maybe the best way to wake him up is one that makes it difficult to be mad. Phoenix gets the perfect idea.

He rubs his hands together like an evil scientist, then interlocks his fingers together before stretching his hands out in front of him. (Even with Edgeworth not watching, Phoenix still teases him). He flexes his fingers and positions them near Edgeworth’s sides.

The lawyer watches Edgeworth’s chest calmly rise and fall. With a smirk, Phoenix digs his hands into both of Edgeworth’s sides.

Edgeworth immediately jolts awake with a yelp from the initial surprise, followed by a bark of laughter once the realization of being ticklish hits.

“Wha–?! Wrihihihight!” Edgeworth tries to sit himself up and knock Phoenix's hands away from tickling him. “Whahahat are you dohohoing?”

“Waking you up. You’ve had plenty of time to rest,” Phoenix says with a smile on his face.

“Yohohohou couldn’t have given mehehehe five mohohore minutes?!” Edgeworth wraps his arms around his torso and tries to roll over to his side, still groggy from his nap.

“We both know that ‘five more minutes’ doesn’t actually mean five more minutes,” Phoenix teases and crawls a pair of his fingers to Edgeworth’s ribs. The prosecutor’s giggles jump and he rolls over on his back, providing Phoenix’s other hand the opportunity to access Edgeworth's ribs. Edgeworth squeezes his arms to his sides. As his giggles increase, a snort releases from the usually stoic man. He throws a hand to his face to hide his silly smile, but it quickly slides back down to his side to return for protection. 

“Was that a snort?” Phoenix can’t help but giggle. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that your snort is as loud as you snore.”

Now recovered from any leftover sleepiness, Edgeworth uses one hand to shove at Phoenix’s chest, while his heels dig into the cushions; his other hand attempts to push himself backwards. 

“I do nohohohot snore yohohohou liar!” Edgeworth attempts to regain an ounce of his intimidating composure.

Phoenix is unaffected. “Okay, so maaaybe I stretched the truth a little bit. But that’s what you say I’m always best at, right? Bluff until something sticks!” The lawyer punctuates the end of his sentence with a quick scribble into Edgeworth’s underarm, causing the other man to collapse flat into the cushions. Edgeworth’s head leans back as laughter cascades from his form and his legs kick behind Phoenix.

“Wrihihight! Thahahat’s enohohough!” Edgeworth shouts through his giggles.

“Alright,” Phoenix jokingly fakes a sigh, like a child who’s been told that it's time to go home from the playground. “I guess I’ve had my fun.” Phoenix pulls his hands away with a smile to allow Edgeworth to catch his breath. 

The prosecutor moves his hands to rest on his stomach and leftover giggles trickle from him with each exhale. 

Edgeworth looks up at the ceiling as the giggles fade to steady breaths. “Somehow, I feel more tired than I did before…”

“Don’t fall asleep on me again, Edgeworth,” Phoenix pats his knee. “We have dinner reservations to catch.” 

Phoenix stands from the cushions and grabs Edgeworth’s hand to help him sit up. 

“So come on,” Phoenix walks to the front door and grabs his coat. “Put on your jacket and let’s go. I don’t know about you, but I’ve definitely worked up an appetite,” Phoenix fixes his coat with a goofy grin in Edgeworth’s direction.

Edgeworth rolls his eyes, then lifts himself from the couch. He grabs his jacket, makes sure he’s presentable, and Phoenix opens the door for him, bowing like a chauffeur. Edgeworth shows him a smile, partially leftover from the wake up call, then heads out the door with Phoenix by his side. 

Edgeworth is awake and happy, meaning Phoenix's plan was a success!