#fucking around and finding out and writing it down because we’re SCIENTISTS

[the-unspeakable-tsar]

Kidnapping The Grunk

In 2018, I was 17. I wrote a Gravity Falls/Rick and Morty crossover fic called "Kiddnapping The Grunk". I'm 23 now, and I was looking at my ao3 account, and I saw it. So, I decided to rewrite the fic. The original person who wanted me to write the fic no longer exists on Tumblr. But here's the new version in its entirety.

Stan’s eyes opened up into complete darkness. He started to move but found his limbs stiff and wrapped in something. He was stuck and started thrashing around. He’d gotten it into his head that he was twisted up in his bedsheets again and started screaming.

“Oh god! Soos! Get the jaws of life! Get some snips or somethin’! I’m stuck!” he shouted.

“Nobody’s gonna help you out here, ole man,” said a strange voice from the dark.

“Who’s that?” said Stan. His tone was not so much panicked but annoyed. “Robbie Valentino, this better not be some stupid prank. I’m not playing around with you and Wendy’s games anymore!”

A new voice chimed in, making robotic tutting, “Nah, you don’t get it do ya?” We’re holding your ass for ransom.”

“Ransom?” said Stan. He considered the thought for a moment. “If you cut me in on this, I can get my brother to fork over some more cash. I know he’s good for it.”

“Shut the fuck up!” shouted the first voice. “If your scrawny boy toy doesn’t deliver the Smidgens we want, we’re going to slit your Cromdamned throat!”

“Boy toy? What the heck are you talking about?” he asked and received a smack across the face for it.

Everyone who surrounded him began to laugh as Stan’s head spun.

“Don’t play dumb,” he said. “You were rolling heavy with Rick Sanchez in this part of the galaxy for ten years. Suppose your spastic lust pet doesn’t show up; we’re going to cut your head off and bury you somewhere like a vampire.”

“Who?” asked Stan.

---

A large green portal opened up into a land covered in prone grease grease-slicked grandmothers. Two aged scientists stepped out and into the town. The residents of the town looked at them with fascination. Stanford Pines looked down at his tracker pad, which pinged with a map of this area and the little tracker.

“I cannot believe that my brother has gotten wrapped up in your nonsense, Sanchez,” he said. 

“Better believe it,” said Rick Sanchez, punctuating his brief statement with a burp. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you myself. What are they? Flansians? Predators? The Tall Whites?” asked Stanford, rapidly firing his questions at Rick.

“Beats the hell out of me,” said Rick. “If they’re after me through, Stan I’ll take care of them. Don’t worry your prissy little head about it.” 

Rick reached over and started tussling Stanford’s hair drunkenly, only for Ford to take his hand away. “None of that!”

“You can’t still be angry because I didn’t call you after our night of passion in the Hamburger Fields,” he said. Dismissing him.

“I can be, and I am!” he shouted.

“Oh blah, blah, blah! BLIGHITY BLAH!” shouted Rick. “Stan’s a better man than you anyways. He knows how to make a man feel appreciated. Y’know?” 

Rick then feigned ecstatic moans, “Ohh Stanley, yeah, yeah, yeah, right therreee!” 

“That’s lewd,” growled Stanford. His face flushed a deep red.

“You would know,” said Rick. “I recall you getting very into me sucking on your fingers.” 

“Nope,” Stanford walked forward. Stomping as he went. “Not listening. Just help me find my brother.”

Rick made a dismissive noise. “Bleh…fine….So, does he ever talk about me?” 

“Hmm?” began Stanford. “No, never.” 

“C’mon, i’m being serious right now. He must, right?’ asked Rick.

“Nope. Up until we got the note, I didn’t even know you two were acquainted,” said Stanford.

“What? We spent nearly a decade together, fucking and savaging around the country,” said Rick. “He must remember me.” 

“Well,” said Ford apprehensively. “There’s a chance that he genuinely doesn’t remember.” 

“Oh god, has he been hit with Alzheimer's?” said Rick, feeling his age.

“The truth is more…odd,” Said Ford. “Do you remember when i talked about Weirdmageddon?” 

“Dumb name, yes.”

“Ignoring that…To destroy Bill, Stanley allowed him to invade his mind…Then we erased it,” said Ford.

“You sick son of a bitch!” growled Rick.

“Oh, grow the hell up, Sanchez. I heard about how you regularly erase your grandson’s memories over minor mistakes on your end,” said Ford.

“How did you hear about that?” asked Rick.

“Summer and Wendy are friends on Tumblr,” said Ford.

“Goddamn, Summer,” whispered Rick under his breath. But then Rick smiled, “Hot Damn, Fordy baby, you’ve just given me a chance at this bullshit thing called love!” 

Rick pushed Ford over, and the old man fell on his ass. They opened up a portal that entered them into a dimension filled with bright blue slime bags, and they bounced off of them, weaving between each other as they fell. Rick blessed another portal into the wall of the dimension and it led into the back room of a bar.

Surrounding Stan’s tied-up form were impossibly tall robots and short dwarven aliens with big fly eyes. They all pulled their guns and started firing at the pair. They ducked behind pillars and exchanged looks. Ford looked ready to kill Rick.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!” he shouted.

“Relax,” Rick stepped in front of the scene.

His body was quickly riddled with plasma fire. The bolts of liquid energy passed through his scrawny form like butter, but he kept stepping forward. The aliens screamed at him in their native tongues—horrid insect chirping. Rick’s left arm unfolded, forming a kind of gun made of green semi-metal and flesh. The flesh gun sprayed the aliens with a horrible mist that caused their skin to erupt in horrible sizzling boils and caused the metal skin of the robots to erode rapidly.

“Come to me, everybody!” he shouted. “Look at me go! Your gods might not be real, but I’m sending you to him all the same!”

Ford stood behind the pillar, picking off stragglers with his pistol and resenting every word that fell out of Rick Sanchez’ stupid head. He didn’t have to do all of this. They could have just killed them; they didn’t have to cook alive inside their bodies.

Once this mad violence was over, Stanford dashed over to Stanley and tore the bag off his head; his brother winced at the light.

“It’s okay, Stanley, you’re going to be alright,” said Ford as he began to undo the binds.

Rick turned and flashed Stanley a look. He thought it was sexy, with is hip cocked to the side and the bulge in his pants prominently displayed. 

“Hey, hot stuff,” said Rick. “I’m Rick Sanchez, and I’m the rescue committee.”  

“Yeah,” said Stan. “I know who you are.”

Suddenly, Rick froze. Shit, he remembers all the scumbag shit I did.

Once up, Stan strode across the room and pushed Rick up against the wall, forcing his tongue into his mouth and dry-humping him against the wall. Ford stood by, irritated that it built up to this. He turned his head so he didn’t have to see the image of the two.

“You scrawny son of a bitch,” said Stan. “You made me remember that I missed you.”

[aibari]

fic poetics: open up your door

for the bind of open up your door, I ended up making a little reference list with things I didn’t have the time or space to write into the author’s notes. I love liner notes! since the bind is only a physical copy, I wanted to put these up online somewhere.

references (alphabetical)

adrian. I think I gave Adrian the teenager the name because it starts with an A and I tend to start at the top of the alphabet and then not get farther when naming characters. I only remembered Adrian Mellon afterwards.

Teen Adrian is a trans guy – this was originally going to be more present in the story itself, but in the end I didn’t have enough words to really do it justice, so it’s just kind of a background thing about Adrian. I’m not sure if Richie realizes or not, beyond clocking him as lgbt in some way. In the future, they definitely have some sort of Conversation about it (and being queer in Derry). And then uhhh probably Richie and Eddie semi-adopt him, and any other queer kid in Derry they can find.

Anyway, I forgot about Adrian Mellon, and then suddenly I had a character who was not just a trans kid in Derry, a small town that has soaked in hate and small-mindedness since before its inception (up until ten years ago!), but also a kid who picked out his own name and he chose a name he shares with Adrian Mellon, a gay man who was killed a decade ago in the town where teen Adrian lives. And uh! That’s a lot! That is very very much of a something!

Initially, I thought about changing it.

But Derry (like a lot of places) is a town where, even ten years down the line, things aren’t always easy for queer kids. And somehow accidentally giving this kid the name Adrian became instrumental to his characterization for me – he’s taking this and making it his own, and fuck anyone who has a problem with it. (And if it’s sometimes harder to keep up that front than other times, well. He’s got some people to lean on. With Richie and Eddie, maybe soon he’ll have more.)

 brave as a noun. This is a title of an AJJ song – and like much of their work, the lyrics are violent and visceral. Their work generally circles around themes of mental illness, poverty, politics, and THE BODY OF IT ALL. Something about Brave as a Noun (like their later Body Terror Song) just reads very Eddie Kaspbrak to me:

I could go off the deep end I could kill all my best friends I could follow those stylish trends And God knows I could make amends But I've got an angry heart Filled with cancers and poppy tarts If this is how you folks make art it's fucking depressing And it's sad to know that we are not alone And it's sad to know that there's no honest way out I'm afraid to leave the house I'm as timid as a mouse I'm afraid if I go out I'll outwear my welcome I'm not a courageous man I don't have any big lasting plans I'm too cowardly to take a stand I want to keep my nose clean And it's sad to know that we're not alone in this And it's sad to know that there's no honest way out In this life we lead We could conquer everything If we could just get the brave to get out of bed in the morning

But also, that title is just too good to pass up.

 beaker’s dozen. This fake movie title was one of several suggested to me by @stravaganza on the Losers Club Bang server. Is it an Ocean’s Eleven rehash where all the players are anthropomorphized elements of the periodic table? Is it a comedy about a scientist who accidentally clones themself? You decide!

Other title suggestions include: Mind the Gap, Deer Me!, The Way There, Beeswax, and Baker’s Dozen.

 cups. This section title comes from a couple of different associations – Eddie is literally leaving cups around the place, but there’s also the Cups song (“you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone”). I was thinking a lot about the thing where you pour one out for the dead, too, but what actually happens here is a bit of an inversion of that – the dead pouring one in(to your cup). Anyway - what’s love if it isn’t making cups of something warm for someone you care about?

 derry air. So Londonderry Air is a really famous Irish piece of music that (among other things) has given the melody to songs like Danny Boy.

That’s not air as in oxygen, by the way – it’s air as in “songlike vocal or instrumental composition”. Also spelled ayre, or aria if you’re speaking Italian. (An aria in English is typically a vocal composition of the kind you’re most likely to find in an opera – La donna è mobile is a kind of clichéd example.)

Anyway, (London)derry Air and Danny Boy! I thought sneaking in the reference would be funny for wordplay reasons, and Danny Boy is overwrought and overdone to the point where it is a little bit hard for me to take it seriously. As it turns out, though, the lyrics work well with this idea of the interlinking of death and place:

Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen, and down the mountain side. The summer's gone, and all the roses falling, It's you, it's you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow, Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow, It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow, Oh, Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so!

But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying, If I am dead, as dead I well may be, You'll come and find the place where I am lying, And kneel and say an Ave there for me. And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me, And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be, For you will bend and tell me that you love me, And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!

 don’t you (forget about me). So I wrote two reverse bangs this year and both of them have the title of this song in them! It was released by Simple Minds in 1985 and plays over the iconic ending of The Breakfast Club, which was released the same year. I’m not personally huge on The Breakfast Club, but I DO think it makes a good combo with IT – these are 1980s misfits who come together and become friends despite the odds (of their social roles in TBC, and of Derry and Pennywise in IT). IT was published in 1986, so they’re originally products of the same time, too.

 ghost. Depending on the story, a ghost can be a lot of different things. Grief given physical form, a memory walking; unfinished business; wrath and vengeance animating a walking curse; rot; love; love (rotting); a person held together by connections to their loved ones; time out of joint and in the wrong place.

Eddie’s path back to being is love and care and connection, obviously, but the occasional vagueness of being is also very much an accidental long covid/fatigue illness metaphor. I had long covid fatigue for what felt like forever in the spring of 2022, and it’s just a really ghostly existence – like you are periodically slipping in and out of time and space. I kept feeling like I didn’t all the way exist, and I (kind of unintentionally) put a lot of that into Eddie when I wrote this. Ultimately, I think it works.

 good bones. “Good Bones” is a poem by Maggie Smith that has done a couple of rounds on tumblr at this point:

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.

Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine

in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,

a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways

I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least

fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative

estimate, though I keep this from my children.

For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.

For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,

sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world

is at least half terrible, and for every kind

stranger, there is one who would break you,

though I keep this from my children. I am trying

to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,

walking you through a real shithole, chirps on

about good bones: This place could be beautiful,

right? You could make this place beautiful.

From Waxwing, 2016

 forget-me-not. Its scientific name, myosotis, comes from the Ancient Greek word for “mouse’s ear”. (This is the second time I have come across a scientific term that means “mouse” used for something that is definitely, absolutely not a mouse – the first is muscle, which comes from the Latin musculus, and means “little mouse”. Wild!) It’s a family! There are so many different types of forget-me-nots! For the sake of this story, though, it’s the emotional (and straightforward) theme of holding on to a loved one and not forgetting them that tied in too neatly with the idea of Richie being haunted by ghost Eddie for me not to make a big deal out of it. The vase of flowers in the picture really ended up unlocking the entire story for me a lot more than I had expected!

if you see something, say nothing (and drink to forget). A classic Welcome to Nightvale quote that is also, I think, a very in character sentiment for Richie.

inspirations, fanfic. This fic takes some inspiration from a Losers Club Big Bang fic from 2021, Nothing Dies in Derry (art by Cordlesshamilton, words by glorious_spoon), and the (as of now still unfinished) SMAU One Ring to Bind Us (@richiesring) – both stories about ghost Eddie (and Stan) trying to communicate with Richie (and Patty) through whatever means will work for them.

modern odyssey, the. Being gone for a very long time and coming back to the person you love (though Richie has less suitors in this one).

not exactly casper. He’s a bit too rude to be Casper, I think.

r+e. I just really wanted to get this in here somehow.

real/not real. So in Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games, this is a thing Katniss and Peeta do after Peeta’s (spoiler??) been thoroughly and relentlessly brainwashed, and struggles to keep hold of what’s real and what isn’t in the aftermath. This section title is a reference to that. For this fic, I guess what I want to pull in here is that there is something about a ghost that is also very malleable and ephemeral – a ghost is real and not real, in a sense, at the same time. Eddie’s occupying both positions at the same time, sometimes more on one side than the other.

section titles; capitalisation. I just love the idea of someone else’s point of view slowly breaking through, even if it doesn’t translate to the main parts of the text. The section titles in capital letters reflect Richie’s state of mind – often through referencing other things – and the ones that aren’t reflect Eddie’s. Well, mostly. I don’t think I’m a hundred percent consistent, but it’s fun to play around with.

there was a hole here. it’s gone now. A reference to a line that shows up in Silent Hill 2. The way it’s written out there is a bit more unsettling: “There was a HOLE here. It’s gone now.”

[bumblebeerror]

Okay so. I’ve been taking my ADHD meds before bed (4:00am) as an experiment for a few days.

My findings:

Section 1) Sleep:

1) sleep easy. I have never slept this hard in my life holy shit. Within 30 min my brain is perfectly in the sleepy zone and the best way I have to describe it is “blissed out but in a proper brain stimulation way”. The amount of brain activity and focus is perfect and will remain so for the next two hours during which I will feel a little warmer but otherwise be pretty much perfectly capable of sleeping as long as I’m able to lay horizontally in a somewhat comfortable position with my eyes closed for about 10 minutes. This is a vast improvement over my abilities to sleep before now, during which I either slept in far too late or woke up after four hours sleep unable to go back to sleep

2) ability to go back to sleep. The first night sucked a little but it was because a bunch of things weren’t ready for me to go to bed (that I didn’t clock at the time) and so I did end up waking up once or twice. Laying still for a few SECONDS was enough to go back to sleep even if I got up to pee or something

3) I wake up,,, AWAKE. This doesn’t seem like the crazy thing it is when I type it out but for the past several months I’ve woken up in a half-asleep state and slept thru several appointments. It was taking me two hours to get ready for work. It now took me 30 min max as long as I didn’t get sucked into YouTube shorts. Both days I’ve tried this I woke up in the ballpark of when I’m supposed to (noon) with zero problems keeping my eyes open once I did so.

Section 2) focus

1) focus not SUPER easy but I think that’s just because I’m not on the right dose still, and also still finaggaling my brain into working properly with meds because I spent about the past year and a half on either no meds or on meds that didn’t work. Overall much better than the last year and a half and I skip the slow part of the morning that usually takes uh… until after work to start working, and sometimes not even then

2) focus is inconsistent but that’s also just adhd for me. BUT, when I first wake up my meds are working properly, I’m able to get up and dressed easily, and the only thing stopping me is my willing indulgence of my own impulse to distract myself. Taking care of myself in the morning has proven EASY and that is a sentence I haven’t said in LITERAL YEARS.

Section 3) cons:

1) warm at night because of the stimulant means it’s a little harder to get comfy and stay comfy if I can’t fall asleep right away.

2) because they’re taken at 4am, they only last till about 10pm. This isn’t a huge issue tbh? It means I spent my evenings sorta spacey and tired-but-not-sleepy, but I was still able to focus on games and such with caffeine subbed in. I may not be able to stream late at night without it being an engaging story-driven game, but I also love RPG’s so this isn’t a huge problem. It comes with all the trappings of being not on my meds, but by the time that’s a huge issue it’s time to take them again, and it’s also forced me to have a consistent meds time (3:30am) and bedtime (4am) so I’m not procrastinating BOTH going to bed AND getting up, I’m actually medicated for both.

3) it does make my heart audible in my ears when I’m laying down more often, which is a problem I’ve had with taking naps during the day

4) not hungry in the morning. Fix: breakfast shake/applesauce.

[jkstompers]

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date. 

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken. 

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date. 

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you. 

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her. 

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing, 

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover? 

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :) 

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days? 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first 

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to. 

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you. 

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something. 

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind. 

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out. 

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying. 

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous. 

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly. 

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him. 

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it. 

feeling okay? 

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk. 

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening. 

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :( 

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you. 

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen. 

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here 

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love. 

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now. 

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight? 

check: ◯  yes ◯ no 

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never. 

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second. 

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no 

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!” 

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again. 

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?” 

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?” 

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing. 

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs. 

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?” 

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot. 

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.” 

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date. 

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair. 

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you. 

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying  that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you. 

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7. 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!! 

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay! 

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat. 

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment. 

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”  

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you. 

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass. 

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again. 

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take. 

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you. 

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat. 

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?” 

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.” 

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless. 

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous. 

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold. 

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.” 

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in. 

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand. 

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face. 

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table. 

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order. 

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around. 

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!” 

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.” 

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive. 

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere. 

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully. 

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you. 

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america? 

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.” 

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile. 

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same. 

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain. 

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction. 

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!” 

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him. 

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love. 

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it. 

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside. 

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.” 

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did. 

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips. 

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind. 

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant. 

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you. 

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste. 

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was. 

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this. 

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.” 

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up. 

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel. 

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this? 

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.” 

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.” 

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?” 

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.” 

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.” 

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest. 

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb. 

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?” 

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more. 

“can i kiss you again, kookie?” 

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“ 

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you. 

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips. 

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.” 

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words. 

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?” 

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks. 

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?” 

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true. 

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice. 

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away. 

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently. 

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark. 

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again. 

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves. 

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.” 

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”  

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good. 

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.  

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers. 

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“ 

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.” 

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific. 

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.” 

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ” 

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more. 

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers. 

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears. 

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper.  you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes. 

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.” 

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it. 

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely. 

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax. 

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual. 

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.” 

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation. 

 “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers. 

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick. 

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows. 

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly. 

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.” 

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.” 

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight. 

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans. 

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.” 

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling.  the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?” 

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?” 

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh. 

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow. 

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?” 

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues. 

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex. 

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles. 

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy. 

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight. 

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook 

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3 

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay? 

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :) 

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :) 

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie 

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now 

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie 

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams! 

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

[circus4apsycho8]

could you do like,,,,gaster x reader maybe :O like if the reader was a scientist with him and they scolded eachother for not sleeping at good times and took breaks together or sum-

Hello! Sure thing! Also, sorry that the ending is a bit rushed. I may go back through later and polish it up a bit, but I think it will do for the time being. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request; I absolutely adore writing for Gaster. Gaster x Reader fics are so underrated!!

Pairing: Gaster x Reader

Warnings: mild cussing

...

The Fifth Phalange Promise

Your brain is dying.

Okay, so that might be an exaggeration, but it sure as hell feels like it. You rest your head on the table, a cup of your preferred hot beverage next to you.

It’s break time. Your favorite time of day right now – half an hour of doing absolutely nothing.

“Tired?”

You lift your head from its resting place, seeing one of your coworkers standing across from you. It’s none other than W.D. Gaster, standing there in his lab coat bearing a cup of monster-brewed coffee.

“A little,” you say with a soft sigh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”

He’s quiet for a moment as he studies you with his piercing gaze. “May I sit with you?”

“With…me?” you question, a bit of color dusting your cheeks. Gaster never sat with anyone – like you, he had never taken breaks previously until Asgore found out and forced you both to start doing so. When that happened, he only ever sat in his office, where he probably was sneaking some paperwork in rather than resting.

“That’s what I said.”

“Uh, sure,” you say, gesturing to the chair. He takes a seat and sets his mug on the table.

Wow. This feels odd. Sure, you work with Gaster on a bunch of projects, but it never went beyond a professional level. This feels…weird. More personal. You decide that you simultaneously hate it and love it.

And by the looks of it, you’re not the only one who finds this odd of Gaster. You notice that coworkers passing through are glancing at the two of you strangely.

“How long did you sleep last night?” Gaster questions suddenly. Short, and to the point. At least he’s not totally out of character.

“Enough,” you reply.

“If you slept enough, you wouldn’t have bags underneath your eyes.”

You huff an unamused laugh. “How long did you sleep, hm?”

That shuts him up. He averts his gaze, scoffing a bit.

“Very well.”

You chuckle, an idea forming. “That’s what I thought. But I think I have an idea of how long.”

“Do you really?” he challenges, leaning back in his chair.

You nod. “We were both working on the chain of custody processing until about midnight last night. It was a very sudden and large crime, so it took us a while to get it all done. Then, you went to go help the forensics unit analyze the evidence afterhours. Then, I saw you leaving at about three in the morning. And you got here today at five. So that puts you at less than two hours.”

“Observant, aren’t you?” he mumbles. “But you’re not much better. Because I happened to see you leaving at that time as well.”

“I’m really not,” you admit with a chuckle. You sip on your drink before realizing it’s gone cold, causing a frown to appear on your face.

“What is the matter?”

“Cold drink,” you say, tossing the disposable cup in the trash.

“I could use a refill. Care for a trip to Muffet’s bakery? We should have enough time.”

Your eyes widen. Gaster?! Asking you to go get coffee?! What?! Fuck it, you’re in.

“I’d like that,” you reply, smiling as you stand. Gaster offers a small smile in return. The two of you proceed to exit the building.

The day is overcast, but the temperature is just right. You sigh, inhaling the fresh air. You forgot how refreshing that was.

“It’s a nice day,” Gaster says.

“It is. It’s good to have some fresh air,” you note. A bit of movement catches your attention, as you notice Gaster is holding his arm out to you. It takes you a second to realize that he’s offering to link arms.

Wait wHAT-

You smile, sliding your arm against his. The cloth of his jacket rubs against your skin, but it’s not a bad feeling. You can feel his bones underneath too.

“To Muffet’s!” you declare, marching in the café’s direction. You’re quickly stopped when Gaster doesn’t budge.

“It’s this way,” he replies, smirking a bit as he points in the other direction.

“Oh,” you say, blushing as you chuckle nervously. “Right. I suck with directions.”

“I can tell.”

“Shut up,” you say jokingly. He smiles before the two of you quietly walk alongside each other on the sidewalk, your mind and heart racing the entire time.

This is insane. What is happening?!?!?!?!

Thankfully, Muffet’s isn’t far away, and the two of you are there in no time.

The bell above the door jingles, catching Muffet’s attention. Her eyes widen once she sees the two of you and your linked arms. You sigh, knowing you’d be grilled about this since you’re a regular here. Her gaze immediately flickers to you. You respond to her questioning gaze with an “I’ll-tell-you-later” look.

“Good morning, dearie. Gaster, it’s been a while,” she greets.

“Hey, Muffet!”

“Good morning. It has indeed. I trust you’ve been well?”

“I sure have. What can I get for you two?”

…

After the two of you have ordered and received your drinks, you settle down at a table together.

“Muffet’s coffee is way better than the crap we have at the lab,” you say.

“I agree. Hers is not as bland.”

“We should ask Asgore to replace ours with Muffet’s brand,” you note, taking another sip.

“Or we could just come here on break from now on,” Gaster suggests with a small simper.

You nearly choke on your coffee before you regain your composure. You return his smirk. “Only if you get a healthy amount of sleep tonight.”

“I will only if you do as well.”

You scoff, but sigh in defeat. “Alright. Pinky promise?”

“What?”

“Pinky promise,” you say, sticking out your pinky. “It’s the ultimate form of trust that you will fulfill your promise.”

“I don’t understand. What do I do to fulfill my end?”

“Just wrap your pinky around mine. Like this!” You demonstrate with your other hand.

“Ah. Very well then. It’s a fifth phalange and metacarpal promise.” Gaster then wraps his pinky bone around your hand, and the deal is sealed.

“Epic,” you reply, grinning.

You two decide to stay for a few minutes, and chat for a while. That is, until Muffet comes to collect your trash.

“Don’t you two have to return to work?”

Your eyes widen as you scramble for your phone.

“We’re late!”

[jamlavender]

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss: Mrs Coulter, misogyny and the His Dark Materials TV show

The show went hard on misogyny as a vital part of Mrs Coulter’s backstory, and I want to talk about how they did it, and why, and how it might have been done better. This is quite long (when is anything I write not, let’s be real) so it’s under the cut. Read on for thoughts on women, power and fictional villainy.

As a quick disclaimer, though: I’ve enjoyed the show a lot! I’m so glad they made it! Ruth Wilson is mesmerising as Mrs Coulter! There’s so much to appreciate about the show overall, including many aspects of Mrs Coulter’s portrayal. But the HDM team have also made gender politics and misogyny very explicit themes of the show – particularly season two, particularly season two, episode five – and I think it’s fair to critique that.

Let’s be clear: Mrs Coulter is a villain. She murders kids by tearing out their souls. She kills and tortures friends and foes alike without a second thought. She abuses her daughter. She upholds and advances a totalitarian regime. She’s a Bad Person, as confirmed by God himself with the unforgettable line: “You are a cesspit of moral filth.” She’s fucking terrible, but, in life as in art, many of us are fascinated by how such awful people are made. What drives someone to commit atrocities? I am keen to see such questions examined in fiction, because I don’t think exploring a character necessarily means excusing their actions, and because it’s interesting (I mean, of course I find her fascinating, I’ve written a novel’s worth of fic about her). However, after a few snarky comments (“What sort of woman raised Father Graves, do you think?”) and some subtler commentary on sexuality, gender and power (her unsettling MacPhail with the key in the bra in S1E2), S2E5 drew a weird line between sexism in Mrs Coulter’s professional and academic life and her vast and senseless institutionalised child murder, and the longer I’ve sat with that the more I’m like: what the fuck?

Look, Mrs Coulter doesn’t tear apart children to search for sin inside them and poison Boreal and break a witch’s fingers because she’s experienced sexism in the workplace and in her education. That’s… a very odd thing to imply. We have to remember that there are lots of women in Lyra’s world, all of whom will also have experienced sexism, misogyny and other forms of marginalisation (many in more expansive and pernicious ways than Mrs Coulter, who’s a woman, yes, but also white, wealthy, highly educated and very thin and beautiful), and none of them are running arctic torture stations. She will have experienced misogyny, absolutely, and that will have affected her in various ways that inform how she approaches her work, but to imply that being denied a doctorate is the reason she became a sadistic killer is frankly bizarre. Here are a few of the lines from that episode with my commentary:

“Do you know who I could have been in this world?” What does this mean? If she’d been roughly the same person in our world, the answer is: Margaret Thatcher, which is probably a step down for Marisa, all things considered, because the Magisterium is far more autocratic than any recent Tory government and would be a much easier institutional environment in which to enact her cruelty. What we’re supposed to think, clearly, is that she’d have been a different person: a scientist and a mother, and she’s had this realisation because she saw a woman with a baby and a laptop and had a three-minute conversation with Mary. This doesn’t make sense. We live in our world! It’s less repressive than Lyra’s world but it’s hardly a gender utopia. If Mrs Coulter had chosen the scientist-and-mother life (which, as I’ll revisit later, she could have done in her world but chose not to because of her megalomaniac tendencies), she’d still have been affected by misogyny here too. Our world is not kind to young mothers, nor young women embroiled in scandals, nor is the world teeming with female physicists. It might be a little better, sure, but it’s hardly as if those gendered challenges would have been solved.  

“What do you mean she runs a department?” This is just the show forgetting its own canon. Marisa, you ran a massive government organisation (the GOB), including a huge murder science research initiative in the Arctic. That’s a much bigger undertaking and much more impressive than running a university department in our world. Pull yourself together.

“But because I was a woman, I was denied a doctorate by the Magisterium.” This is the show flagrantly ignoring the source material to make a clumsy political point. In the books, there are women with doctorates (notably Hannah Relf, also a major player in the new Book of Dust trilogy) and at least one women’s college full of female scholars. Now, would that women’s college likely be underfunded and disrespected compared to the men’s colleges? Almost certainly. But saying that is different than saying “I couldn’t get my doctorate!” when women in Lyra’s world can. The show knew what point they wanted to make, and were willing to ignore canon to do so, which is frustrating. Also, given that there are female academics and scientists in Lyra’s world, and that Mrs Coulter is a member of St Sophia’s college, it’s clear that she could have lived that life if she so desired. But she didn’t want that, because being a scientist and academic at St Sophia’s imbues her with no real power, and that’s what she craves.

I’m not opposed, in theory, to exploring Mrs Coulter and misogyny in more depth, but I think doing so through an examination of the sexual politics of her life would have made a lot more narrative sense and been much more powerful. It’s better evidenced in the text – her using her sexuality to manipulate people and taking lovers for political sway is entirely canon, as is her backstory where genuine love and lust blew up her life – and it links much more closely with the most shocking of her villainy, which involves cutting out children’s dæmons to stop them developing “troublesome thoughts and feelings,” referencing sexual and romantic desire (and what Lyra and Will do to save Dust is clearly a big ‘fuck you’ to those aims). She even says this to MacPhail in TAS, “If you thought for one moment that I would release my daughter into the care - the care! - of a body of men with a feverish obsession with sexuality, men with dirty fingernails, reeking of ancient sweat, men whose furtive imaginations would crawl over her body like cockroaches - if you thought I would expose my child to that, my Lord President, you are more stupid than you take me for.” Don’t get me wrong, she’d have been a villain regardless, but I do believe that there’s a much stronger link between her sexual and romantic experiences and her murder work than between professional and academic stifling and child murder. It would have been a lot more interesting and a lot less tenuous.

However, the show is trying to be family-friendly, and digging into why this terrible, cruel woman might want to cut the ability for desire and love (and other non-sexual adult feelings, I’m sure) out of people could get dark. We know that the show doesn’t want to go there, because they’ve actively toned down her weaponising her sexuality: in the books, she has an established sexual relationship with Boreal, whereas the show made it seem like she’s been stringing him along all this time, and made it about potentially ‘sharing a life’ together rather than fucking, which was clearly the arrangement in the books. Also, I think Ruth Wilson said she and Ariyon Bakare filmed a “steamy scene” together, and given that only a single chaste kiss between them aired it must have been cut. I think they deliberately minimised the sexual elements of the text, particularly regarding Mrs Coulter (the mountain scene with Asriel, which I did still love, was also a lot less horny than in the book) and replaced that with another gender issue, that of professional sexism, as if the two are interchangeable, which they are not. This is a shame, both for Mrs Coulter’s character and also for the story as a whole, because the characters’ relationships with sex and desire are an important part of the books! (If this minimised sexuality approach means that they don’t use the TAS scene where Asriel threatens to gag her and she tries to goad him into doing it, I’ll scream). Overall, I think they missed the mark here, which is a shame because I also think it could have been done well, if they’d been bolder and darker and more thoughtful.

Why might this happen? Why might the show take this approach? Why might it be latched onto by viewers? Personally, I think the conversations we have about women and power are very simplistic, which leaves us in a tight spot when we see women seizing power for themselves (even in fiction) and weaponising that against others, not just other women but people of all genders, because we struggle to move past ‘women have overall been denied power, so them taking it ‘back’ is good,’ even if that immediately becomes a hot mess of white, corporate feminism and results in the ongoing oppression of many people. I think we are so hungry for representations of powerful women that we – producers and viewers alike – struggle to see them as bad, because it’s uncomfortable to be so intoxicated by Mrs Coulter effortlessly dominating the men around her, subverting systems designed to marginalise her for her own benefit, and generally being aggressive and intelligent and ruthless, and then realise that you are entranced by someone who is, objectively, a terrible, terrible person. It can be hard to realise that if you channelled the energy of someone who mesmerises you, you’d be the villain. So instead of sitting with that (more on this below), a lot of legwork goes into reworking her villainy into, somehow, a just act, a result of oppression, as her taking back power that has been denied to her, rather than grappling with the fact that for anyone to desire power in such a merciless way, even if they have to overcome marginalisation to get it, is really, really dangerous.

The joy, of course, is that Mrs Coulter is not real! She’s not real! Adoring fictional characters does not mean condoning their (imaginary) decisions, nor do stories exist for each person in them to fit neatly into a good or bad box so you know who you’re allowed to love. Furthermore, fiction can be a fabulous tool for exploring and interrogating the parts of yourself that, if left to bloom unexamined, might perpetuate beliefs or behaviour that cause harm to others. Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be a feminist or taking down the patriarchy or a righteous powerful woman to illuminate things about gender, power and feminism for those reading and watching. In fact, it’s important that we explore what happens when women (most commonly white, wealthy women, as she is) continue to perpetuate brutal systems under the guise of sticking it to ‘men,’ because it happens all the time in the real world, and it’s a serious issue. Finding characters like Mrs Coulter so cool and compelling doesn’t make you a bad person, but it might tell you something about yourself – not that you want to be a villain or kill kids or whatever, but something about how you relate to your gender or women or men or power – and that knowledge can be useful! We all have better and worse impulses, and finding art that helps us make sense of ourselves, both the good and bad parts, is a gift that we should relish.

Anyway, tl;dr, Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be sympathetic or understandable or redeemable to be brilliant – but you wouldn’t know that from how she’s been portrayed in the new adaptation.

[skellebonez]

(kicks door down) INVERTED AU WITH PROMPT 72, SPECIFICALLY WITH MK

I’m not going to write out the ENTIRE TikTok so just. Watch an enjoy the madness that is B Dylan Hollis. It will make this fill so much more entertaining.

Don’t you dare.

Had it not been even a few weeks ago things would be almost completely on their normal “regular day with no special plans” schedule. Wake up, work, hang out with Pigsy and Tang, get Mei to have some fun, run off to Mount Huaguo for training with Sun Wukong, make sure the immortal Monkey King is taking care of himself, go home and sleep (a few gaps between each in case he needed to chuck a water bottle or granola bar at any of his friends and make sure they weren’t overworking themselves and if he came across anyone who needed his special brand of, as Macaque once called it, “aggressive self care affection”).

But no. Oh no. This was not a few weeks ago.

This was now, not even a month after the Lunar New Year Festival. Not even a month after he was finally introduced to the rest of Spider Queen’s family- plus one not so accidental addition who had decided it would be a fantastic idea to experiment on himself for funsies and “oops all spiders”.

Said addition stood, or rather half stood and half reclined on the mechnical legs protruding from his back, diligently typing away at his computer. The same computer he hadn’t stepped away from except to take a shower earlier in the day.

17 hours ago.

“Syntax,” MK said with the most gentle warning tone he could muster... which, to anyone unfamiliar with MK would sound like he spoke the human turned spider demon’s name like a threat. “Please tell me you have eaten more than a single calorie bar today.”

“I have eaten more than a single calorie bar today,” the scientist assured with a barely thrown over his shoulder smile in the younger man’s direction.

“Ok g-”

“I ate 2.”

The proud look on Syntax's face, as if he had figured out the loophole to end all loopholes, was a stark contrast to MK's expression of angry horror.

"You can't just eat TWO CALORIE BARS, Syntax!" He shouted, grabbing the scientist by his lab coat sleeve before starting to drag him out of the laboratory. If anyone was there to witness this they would find this feat impressive given how Syntax dug his mechanical legs into the floor in protest.

"I have survived on these so far and I will conti-"

"Survived, yeah, as a human," MK noted as he realized the other was simply allowing him to lead him along without a fight in the least. "But you're a spider demon... cyborg... guy now, you need more sustenance than that. And you needed more before!"

"3 bars?"

"NO MORE OF THE FUCKING BARS!"

The moment Syntax shrunk back in reaction to MK’s yelling the Monkie Kid took his chance and gripped the scientist’s sides and tossed the man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before breaking out into a sprint down the halls of Spider Queen’s lair.

“Don’t you dare!” Syntax yelped, attempting to free his arms or move his spider legs but gave up on the later and instead retracted them out of fear he might accidentally harm his captor. “I have work to finish, young man!”

“You can’t finish if you die of malnutrition, I’m teaching you how to cook!”

As they ran toward the entrance they passed Spider Queen who, upon realizing what was happening, gave them a calm wave and a smile.

“Make sure to have him back in time for you to get home before dark, MK!”

“EVEN MY QUEEN IS BETRAYING ME!”

~

Syntax eventually gave in. After all, despite his new enhancements he was still no match for the sheer strength of the Monkey King himself in the hands of a very determined young man with a hard line stance on self care.

And somehow this man decided he should be deposited in... his kitchen.

In front of a phone set up like... a camera.

Huh.

“Uh-”

“Hold that thought!” MK said, positioning Syntax just out of sight as he grabbed a cook book and hit record. “A bean PIE from the 1920s! Today we’re doing something different-” he reached over and grabbed Syntax’s arm, pulling him into frame without even a single change in his expression. “Today I have an assistant because SOMEONE doesn’t know how to EAT NUTRITION and needs more Vitamin B.”

As he let go of the scientist’s arm he turned to him, face as serious as a miscalculated formula when a project was due in 1 hour.

“OK, you’re the science dude. Let me tell you something from experience,” MK grabbed the cook book, holding it up. “Cooking IS science. And this science insists that BEANS can be made into a PIE which I think is bullshit and I am going to prove on camera. Until you learn how to eat things that aren’t instant bars, you are going to join me on my cooking science experiments. Understood?”

Truth me told, Syntax didn’t see the appeal in cooking. It was far too much hassle for something as basic as nutritional supplements you could acquire from far easier means that did not involve making a mess you had to clean up later... but...

The idea that cooking could be a science... that he had never considered before. And MK seemed to be pretty well convinced that he was correct in this assertion. This was part of why Syntax had, for a while now, considered reaching out to him with an offer of becoming his assistant. His tenacity and determination was something that was a great asset in the field of scientific discovery after all! And well...

If making a weird pie could get him into the young man’s good graces...

“Where do we start?”

~

MK held up a bowl of beans to the camera. “Now these took a long bath last night-” he turned to Syntax. “-I’ll splice in some footage from earlier here later-TIME TO COOK EM!”

~

“The pot,” Syntax noted, pointing to the pot on MK’s stove that had begun to over boil.

“AAGH!” MK yelped, sliding over from where he was grabbing his mixer. “BEAN REBELLION!”

~

“Eggie,” MK chuckled out, cracking an egg into the mixing bowl with the rest of the ingredients.

“How many eggs does it call for?” Syntax asked, trying to make sense out of the madness he was being witness to.

“How many? I don’t know, it just says EGGS.” MK gestured to the cookbook before them as if it has just insulted Pigsy himself to MK’s face.

~

“FORE!” MK yelled, closing his eyes and turning on the blender as Syntax held a frying pan in front of himself in preparation for disaster.

And disaster came... just not in the way either expected, as the blender sputtered and just.... stopped.

“... did you just kill my blender?” MK turned the knob on it, shaking it and tapping it gently. “HELLO?”

He shook it harder, twisting and turning the knob on the front wildly before he broke down into laughter. “THE BEANS KILLED MY BLENDER.” MK crossed his arms on the counter, laying his head down on them as he devolved into equally amused and annoyed cackles. “This has never happened before, how the hell!?”

“Well...” Syntax looked around, finding an induction blender sitting half buried on the opposite side of the counter. “Will this work?”

~

Finally. After waiting for the pie to bake. It was done.

A piece sat on a plate before both men, looking both intimidating and somehow delectable at the same time. But both were well away this concoction was primarily sugar, cinnamon, and BEANS. They looked at each other for a moment before nodding, each taking a fork full of the pit before shoving it into their mouths expecting the worst.

MK looked at Syntax as they chewed. Then the camera. Then he started to laugh through his bite as Syntax’s face went on a journey from “this tastes good” to “HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS TASTE GOOD”.

“Nothing makes sense anymore,” he moaned, gesturing to the pie slice before him as he began to laugh in disbelief.

“WHY ARE YOU GOOD?” Syntax asked, shaking his plate slightly. “You have a bag of BEANS in you!”

MK laughed harder, needing to put his plate on the counter as he needed to hold his sides from the pain of trying not to laugh louder than he was.

“This is like if tomato soup made a cake that tasted like chocolate!”

“I-It!” MK wheezed, holding up one hand to get the scientist’s attention. “It has!”

“I’M SORRY- WHAT!?”

~

“Yes? Oh, that’s fine dear! Yes, as long as he has somewhere to sleep and I know where he is- ... yes, we would love to try some when you escort him home tomorrow! Thank you, take care now,” Spider Queen said, smiling as she hung up the cell phone that Pigsy and Tang had no kindly helped her acquire.

“So, uh...” Huntsman asked, rubbing the back of his neck in concern and confusion. “What’s up?”

“Syntax will be spending the evening with MK!” She announced, smiling wide. “He’s taken up an interest in baking, apparently. Something about needing to unlock the secrets of tomato soup and beans.”

[shadowhuntertrash]

tlh gang as funny first modern day impressions for @serene-victory-77

alastair - the first time alastair meets christopher he’s confused as to if he likes this kid or if he is annoyed. he meets him in their chemistry class. he goes through school with his head down because honestly he was really only there for good grades. when he was partnered with the infamous christopher herondale (yes his names was well known around school) he was slightly scared. christopher comes up to his table with a smile on his face and his goggles slight askew on his face. alastair is already leaning toward quirkily adorable. from the stories he’d heard christopher had a bit of a mad scientist rep, so he was happily surprised when christopher was less of a mad scientist and more of an evil genius. he did the experiment perfectly and then much to alastair’s horror, continued without any directions, going purely off his knowledge of the chemicals. when christopher was done he’d made a much more complicated version of the solution they were making and alastair was very thoroughly impressed. the teacher on the other hand, was not. they both got in trouble but alastair found he didn’t mind much. from then on out they were lab partners no matter what and it was quickly becoming alastair’s favorite class.

cordelia - the first time cordelia meets eugenia she thinks she is so badass. here’s this girl who could literally not give less of a fuck what anyone things about her. she has long curly hair that is either always down or put up into a messy bun. cordelia is slightly star struck by this girl who has just plopped herself down next to her in her ap calculus class. eugenia seems to bring a storm with her wherever she goes and immediately draws all eyes toward her. when cordelia looks at her eugenia just winks and crosses her ankles before leaning in slightly to ask if she has a spare pencil she could borrow. they became fast friends which surprised cordelia but literally no one else. they are very different but similar at the same time. cordelia is a badass but she is less obvious about it. she’s kind when she can be whereas eugenia doesn’t really stop to give anyone a chance to catch up with her unless she gets a good energy from them.

lucie - the first time lucie meets matthew is when he comes over to their house to hang out with james for the first time. at first he seems incredibly polite. he greets tessa and will with utmost grace and respect but lucie can tell it’s unusual from the way james’s face scrunches up in his tell tale expression of shock. she finds it amusing and decides to follow them for a while, matthew catches on quickly but instead of telling james they had a tag along he simply winks at lucie and pretends to lock his mouth and throw the key. she decides immediately that she likes this one. when they get to the indoor pool the first thing matthew does is push james into the pool. lucie couldn’t help but laugh which gave her away but when james went to tell her off and to get lost matthew pouts at james and said in an obnoxiously whiny voice, “jamie, let her hang out for a bit.” james turned to him and lucie was amazed to find them in a seemingly silent conversation before matthew smiled triumphantly and james groaned throwing himself back into the water as matthew gestured for lucie to come swim with them. lucie decides then and there that matthew by far her favorite of james’s friends he’s had over so far.

matthew - the first time matthew meets james is at detention. it would have been at debate but he had missed the first meeting for the club because his teacher had held him back to redo an activity he’d done completely wrong. he’d gotten detention that same period for disrupting the class (which was completely unnfair, he had just forgotten to take his adhd medicine so he was more restless than normal. when he walked into detention that afternoon there was only two other people there, neither of which he recognized. the teacher that was trapped into watching them was actually one of matthew’s favorite teachers, mr. lightwood (gideon lightwood, not to be confused with his brother gabriel who also taught there). about ten minutes into detention the door opened and one of the most attractive people matthew had ever seen in his entire life strolled through the door with a lopsided smile. mr. lightwood looked up and upon realizing who was there sighed heftily and shook his head. “again, james?” james just smirked wider and shook out his curly black hair, matthew’s stomach was doing a weird flip thing. ‘uncle gid, it really wasn’t my fault. the debate teacher just wasn’t seeing my side of the debate. he said my ideas were ‘crude and unnecessary’ but he was the one who asked what my opinion on dorian gray was. it really wasn’t my fault if she didn’t want a ‘mature’ opinion she shouldn’t have asked about a ‘mature’ topic.” mr. gideon simply shook his head but he was hiding a rather obvious smile. “go sit down, james.” with a confident smile he strolled over to where matthew was seated and turned to him with an outreached hand. up close matthew realized with another jolt to his stomach that james’s eyes were golden. “james, james herondale.” he said when matthew gripped his hand. matthew smiled widely. “matthew, matthew fairchild. i think we’re going to be good friends.”

thomas - the first time thomas meets alastair is his freshman year of high school. thomas will forever remember it vividly because alastair was the first person to really help him around school. he was so lost and he didn’t have anyone he knew so when this junior stepped up to show him around it was pretty cool. he was thoroughly embarrassed though because not only was this guy very very attractive but his friends were laughing at him. well not him, but thomas. alastair had waved them off and told him not to worry about them. he showed thomas to his classes and the main areas such as the library and the cafeteria. it was the first interaction of many but there were a few years until the next one. thomas never forgot his kindness and how he went out of the way to help the new kid, alastair never forgot either but for him it was more of a distant memory, the second time they met was the first meeting that left him with a lasting feeling.

james - the first time james meets jesse is when he comes to pick lucie up for a date. his immediate reaction is to evaluate if he is a good person and if he was good enough for his little sister. he held himself with an odd mixture of confidence and uncertainty. james had stood in the study with jesse for a while waiting for lucie to come down. jesse was fidgeting a lot which james recognized as anxiety which he himself had. he was slightly reassured by the fact that jesse was nervous. they were never really close nor did they ever become very close, seeing as james was practically always waiting for jesse to mess up or hurt his sister in some way. it lessened as time passed and jesse proved himself worthy in james’s eyes.

jesse - the first time jesse meets lucie it’s right in the middle of an epiphany in a story she’s writing. she’s been in a slump with really bad writers block for about a week so she can’t help her excitement when she finally has a breakthrough. jesse was sent by a professor (well professor herondale aka tessa the english professor aka lucie’s mom) to find her in the library to pass on a message and when he stumbles across a girl furiously tapping away on a laptop with a mad smile on her face and two pencils holding her hair up he is immediately enraptured. he goes to let her know her mom is looking for her but she simply tsks him and informs him that she simply cannot be disturbed and when he asks why she launches into a complicated plotline and jesse is so mesmerized that he can’t help but sit down and listen to an hour long rant about her novel and the characters. he misses his next to classes but if you ask him it was so so worth it. he soon becomes her person to rant to about intricately woven story lines and he can’t argue one bit. he was smitten from the first tsk.

christopher - the first time christopher meets cordelia he blows her up. well, nearly. he was experimenting and she happened to walk in right as his solution went awry. she had screamed loudly, more so from being startled than from injury but christopher had still rushed over to her and made sure she was unharmed. when he made sure that she was truly okay he apologized profusely and explained what he was doing and what he did wrong. she seemed genuinely interested which christopher immediately appreciated and he found he quite liked this girl. she was kind and smiled and asked questions when she was curious. there was no better way to get to his heart than by asking about his experiments (well, besides lemon tarts). every time they ended up staying for science after school he never failed to update her on his latest invention or experiment and she never failed to be attentive and curious. they worked surprisingly well together.

kamala - the first time kamala meets thomas is when she meets eugenia (her girlfriends) family. thomas was kind and the longer they talked the more he smiled and looked at her with an approving look. she had taken a liking to him almost immediately and had spent most of their time talking until eugenia interrupted claiming thomas was stealing her girlfriend to which thomas scoffed and rolled his eyes saying that there was no chance of that happening. kamala hadn’t understood the actual meaning of that until later to which she laughed until tears sprang to her eyes. eugenia’s entire family was kind and accepting but she knew she’d always have a soft spot for thomas and she did. she was always there for him and he, her. he became a brother she had always wanted and never gotten to truly have. eugenia complained but she couldn’t be happier with the outcome. 

eugenia - the first time eugenia meets grace she thinks she’s cold. she always has a careless and intimidating resting face and very rarely speaks to anyone as if they’re worth her time. eugenia’s blind reaction to having her on the cheerleading squad was not a good one and she worked her pretty hard until they finally talked and eugenia learned why she had so many walls up and why she was so cold. it took a while to unravel the mystery of grace blackthorn but they ended up being surprisingly good friends, especially considering they were both close to kamala. kamala being one of grace’s closest friends and eugenia's girlfriend.

grace - the first time grace met kamala she was in the locker room the cheerleaders shared with the dance team. grace had just gotten off a particularly cruel phone call with her mother and was trying her best to keep her composure but it was quickly slipping through her fingers. her throat was hurting from the strain of not crying and her eyes were burning suspiciously. she cleared her throat a few times in the empty locker room and almost jumped out of her skin when a girl poked her head around the corner with a concerned tilt to her lips. she had a kind face and it barely took a quiet, “are you okay?” for grace to break down completely. the girl had walked over quietly and bent down to grace’s level. grace wasn’t sure why but she felt like she had known this girl for a long time, it was a feeling of pure trust she had never felt before. there was something so calming about kamala, as she had introduced herself, that she found herself spilling things she’d never told anyone else. there was a lot left unsaid but enough was said for kamala to comfort her enough to get her to calm down. there was something so trust worthy about her that she found herself in the same situation a few more times in the weeks to come until they started to talk with no tears. it was definitely an odd friendship but they both valued it a lot.

[valdomarx]

Inseparably Entwined

Stargate Atlantis, McKay/Sheppard, bound together, 2k, rated M

-

Elizabeth pinches the bridge of her nose. "What did you two do now?"

"We. Uhh. We found another Ancient device."

"And, instead of cataloguing it for a hazmat team to investigate, as per protocol, you decided to play with it?"

“To investigate it,” Rodney corrects. “Like the competent professionals we are.” John punches him in the arm.

Elizabeth's lips purse into a thin line. "And then you accidentally activated it?"

John winces. "And then we accidentally activated it."

"Of course you did. And its effects are…?"

"Non lethal," Rodney says, a bit too quickly. 

Elizabeth mumbles something that might be don't bet on it under her breath. "Non lethal, but…?"

John shifts his weight and stares at a point behind her head. "McKay and I have to stay within ten feet of each other at all times or we both pass out."

For a moment there is stunned silence. Then the sound of Elizabeth's bark of laughter fills the office and spills out into the gate room.

-

Carson waves a hand. “You’re both going to be fine. It looks like the bond is only temporary.”

Rodney fidgets. “How temporary?”

“I couldn’t say. A few days, maybe a few weeks?”

“Weeks?” John chokes out. “Listen, doc, we need you to fix this -”

Carson cuts him off. “I’m sorry, son, but I’ve got more important things on my plate right now.” He looks pointedly around the infirmary which is admittedly full of marines being treated for combat injuries, Athosians coming in for checkups, and troops of medical staff organizing vaccinations for off-world groups.

John deflates. “So we’re stuck with each other?”

Carson pats him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Rodney looks up at that. “Hey!”

-

“Absolutely not.” John recoils in horror. “We are not sleeping in your room.”

“But all my stuff is in there.”

“Your room is disgusting. If you think I’m sleeping on the floor among half-finished bags of cheetos and bits of drones, you are sorely mistaken. It’s a wonder you haven’t attracted the Lantean equivalent of rats.”

“I’ll have you know the bags of cheetos are almost entirely finished.”

“Rodney -”

“Alright! We’ll sleep in your oh-so-tidy quarters. Military spick and span, no snacks or useful bits of machinery in sight.” Rodney rounds on him, waving a finger in his face. “But if I get an inspired idea in the middle of the night and can’t find a circuit board to test it on, know that it’s your stubbornness that is robbing humanity of another of my great concepts.”

John hides a smile. “I’ll have to find a way to live with myself.”

-

When the doors to John’s quarters slide open, Rodney’s jaw drops.

“Hey! How come you have a bigger bed than me?”

John shoots him a smug look. “I upgraded after the last attack. Benefits of command.” It was one of the very few benefits of command he was willing to take advantage of.

“Oh, that’s how it is, hmm? We’re living in a military dictatorship here, with all the best perks and boons given to the highest ranking officers? Never mind that it’s the scientists who do all the actual work, who discover new technology and solve the problems, oh no, let’s give out the biggest and comfiest beds to the military guys, as if that’s fair -”

“McKay!” he interrupts. Rodney looks like he’s having fun, gearing up for a good rant, but John honestly can’t take it right now. “Go to sleep, I’m begging you.”

Rodney huffs, clearly saving that rant away for another time. “Fine.”

-

John is woken up for the third time that night by Rodney fidgeting on the floor and sighing dramatically. 

“What is it, McKay?” His voice is testy. He doesn’t love having his sleep interrupted.

“I can’t get comfortable. A sleeping bag on the floor is bad for my back.”

John stares at the ceiling and counts to ten. He looks at the ample space next to him and calculates his best odds of getting some sleep tonight. “Come here and share the bed with me then.”

Rodney eyes his mattress dubiously. “I’ll have you know I require a very firm mattress, for spinal support, not that I’d expect you to understand -”

“For god’s sake, get in the bed. It has to be better than the floor.”

A moment’s pause. “Yeah, alright.”

It’s been a long time since John slept next to someone. His rare hookups have mostly involved sneaking out in the middle of the night, and even when he was married they slept in separate beds most of the time. 

Sleeping next to Rodney is, surprisingly, not awful though. Sure, he steals all the covers and moves around all the time and, of course, he snores, but John finds that he strangely doesn’t mind. 

-

John has seen Rodney under fire, seen him at his best, seen him happy and sad and angry and bored. But he’s never seen him first thing in the morning before.

“Whazzat?” Rodney’s eyes barely open. His expression is one of overriding confusion. “Whzz going on?”

John stifles a smile at his resident genius. He’s been up for an hour already, showered, done his laundry, and cleaned his space. He’s also decided to play nice and share his secret.

“Here,” he says, and hands a mug of freshly brewed coffee to Rodney. “Just don’t tell anyone I snuck coffee and a kettle into my personal effects, or the scientists will raid us in the middle of the night.”

“Coffee!” Rodney is still radiating confusion, but he hones in on the cup of coffee like a laser. A blissful smile passes over his face. “You brought me coffee.”

“I did.”

“You’re wonderful.” Rodney takes the coffee and cradles it like something precious and rare.

-

After a day and a half doing paperwork in the lab because they can't go off-world, John has reached the end of his rope. 

"I'm going to the gym," he snaps. "You can either come with me or we'll both end up in the infirmary when I try to go there alone."

Rodney glares and is clearly about to start arguing when Zelenka elbows him. He sighs dramatically but agrees that they can take an hour away. 

While they're both in the gym and John needs a sparring partner, he figures he might as well teach Rodney some self defense. The idea of Rodney needing to defend himself makes something unpleasant twist in his gut, but he pushes that away and argues they should make the most of this time and do something productive. To his surprise, Rodney agrees, and they run through some basic drills and defensive maneuvers. 

Rodney is bad at this, frankly. He's all elbows and poor coordination, but he's trying. 

John is feeling magnanimous, and he knows the value of a bit of positive reinforcement. So when Rodney steps forward and attempts a clumsy hip throw, he leans in and lets himself be thrown. 

Rodney looks astonished that actually worked, before delightedly pouncing on John and pinning him to the floor.

"Got you," he says, face pink and grinning wickedly. 

John's heart picks up, somehow distracted by Rodney's heavy weight on him and the sharp brightness of his smile. He swallows thickly. 

"I guess you do."

-

“Geez, Sheppard, how long does it take to have a shower?” Rodney’s voice carries through the bathroom door. “I want to run some simulations on the city’s power systems with Zelenka.”

John’s cheeks flush and he tries to tune Rodney out. “Just give me a minute, will you?”

“What are you doing in there anyway, jerking off?”

John goes very, very still.

“Oh my god, you are!”

“Shut up, McKay.”

“No, no, don’t let me stop you. You go ahead and enjoy yourself.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m not judging. It’s perfectly natural. And hey, maybe it’ll help you chill the fuck out for once.”

John scowls, gives up, and shoves his dick back in his pants. “I will kill you in your sleep.”

-

John is used to having to drag McKay around after him on missions, so in some ways their new situation isn’t entirely unfamiliar. 

Tac vests are useful for that; full of hand holds he can grab when he needs McKay to get down under cover or to stop him from wandering off to look at some shiny piece of technology. When Rodney is in uniform, he can grab the collar of his shirt, though Rodney complains that it creases the fabric horribly.

So John finds a compromise. When he has stuff to do and Rodney is dawdling, he grabs his hand and steers him in the right direction. After a while it becomes second nature - whenever there’s danger or something important is happening, he takes Rodney’s hand and they set off to deal with it together.

If any of the marines find it funny to see their commander holding hands with the head of science during a crisis, none of them dares to mention it.

-

John is carefully, carefully tending to his hair. Just the right amount of product, to spike it just the right amount to look effortless. He tweaks and ruffles, tugs and shapes. This is an art form which requires judicious maintenance. 

“Oh, for the love of -” Rodney grabs the tub of hair wax out of his hands. “We’ll be here all day. Let me.”

He steps forward and slides his hands into John’s hair, ruffling it vigorously. His fingers are firm on John’s scalp and he tugs just on the right side of too hard.

Rodney steps back and surveys his work. “That’ll do.”

John glances in the mirror and sees a chaotic, wild mess. He looks like he’s run a marathon, with his pink cheeks and mussed hair, or like he’s rolled out of bed after a night of passion.

“Rodney! I can’t go out like this.”

“Oh, shut up. You look smoking hot, like you always do.”

That’s… What? What does that mean? Why the hell would Rodney say that?

“Come on,” Rodney is saying, already on his way out the door. John has to run after him, cheeks still flushed.

-

They find a rhythm.

John gets up first and puts the coffee on while he showers. He’s given up on trying to tidy Rodney’s side of the room, so he lets the piles of circuit boards and screwdrivers sprout up where they will. Once Rodney is up they get breakfast at the mess, then he spends the morning doing paperwork and writing reports in the science lab while Rodney works. They meet Teyla and Ronon for lunch, then he spends the afternoon drilling the marines while Rodney taps away at a laptop. Evenings, they bicker over which movies to watch in their quarters and throw popcorn at each other.

Elizabeth even agrees to let them travel to the mainland, and then to go on low-stakes reconnaissance missions. 

It’s… comfortable, he realizes. It works.

That thought makes something twist in his chest, and he doesn’t know why.

-

“Morning, sunshine.” John pours Rodney a cup of coffee.

“Mmm.” Rodney is still sleep-rumpled, but he struggles upright and smiles softly. “Morning.”

As he hands over the coffee, Rodney catches his wrist and holds him there. He looks down at the mug, then back up at John. John notices in an abstract way that his eyes are very, very blue.

“Thanks,” Rodney says, and pecks him on the lips.

Right. Okay. That’s a thing. That’s a thing they’re doing now.

John is still processing as Rodney gets up and heads for the shower. “I’ve got a meeting with Miko this morning,” he says over his shoulder, normal as ever, “so we might have to push our gym session back by half an hour -”

He keeps chattering away while John sits on the bed and has a minor crisis. Did they… do they… but that would mean…

By the time Rodney is out of the shower, John has made a decision. 

He doesn’t allow himself to overthink it, he just takes Rodney’s face in his hands and kisses him deeply. Rodney’s arms tighten around his waist and his tongue slips into his mouth and oh. Oh yes. That’s good.

John’s a little breathless, a little dizzy. “Are we really doing this?” he asks.

Rodney’s face scrunches up in amusement. “I think we’ve been doing this for weeks.”

Yeah. Okay. That’s a fair point.

The tense feeling that’s been winding around his chest uncoils, and in its place is nothing but blooming warmth.

“I guess we have.”

-

EPILOGUE

“Carson.” Elizabeth looks up from where she’s frowning at a tablet and gives him a polite nod. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Any time,” Carson says, and means it. “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to get an update on the situation with John and Rodney. We really do need them to get back on full duty soon.”

“Ahh.” He’s been carefully avoiding that topic. He takes a breath. “To be honest with you, the bond between them wore off days ago. They could go their separate ways now and be none the worse for it.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows fly upward toward her hairline. “And you haven’t told them yet?”

“See, at first they were in the infirmary every day asking for an update. But they haven’t been in for over a week and -”

“And?”

“They seem…” he pauses, contemplating his choice of words, “... happy.”

Elizabeth’s mouth twitches into a quickly suppressed smile. “That may be, but you have a professional responsibility.”

“Aye, you’re right. I’ll go and tell them the effects of the device have run their course.”

“Well…” Elizabeth looks thoughtful. “You have a professional responsibility to give them accurate medical information when they ask for it.”

Carson sees where she’s going with this. “And until then?”

Elizabeth shrugs and gives him a sly look. “They do seem happy.”

[artzychic27]

An akuma with reality powers, The Artist Family and the canon Art kids (maybe the other classmates too) meet each other

Their reaction? Chaos?

Another day, another Akuma for the Malevolent Miraculous team

This one is named Alterna, and they’re a scientist who got Akumatized because their alternate universe theory was rejected

They have the power to open portals to other dimensions

While fighting, Alterna grabbed Black Widower’s whip and used it to ensnare the team before flinging them into a portal

Once they land, they find themselves... In Paris? Only, something feels off, very off...

Since there doesn’t seem to be any danger, they detransform

They look around while getting weird looks from people. (Imagine the ‘Going into town’ scene form the Addams Family 2019 movie)

Nathaniel Artist: Everyone’s dressed so... Conformist. *Sees a magazine with Adrien on the cover* And what happened to Adrien’s new look?

Rose Artist: Is this one of the universes where his dad is a jerk?

Alix Artist scares off a few people by throwing a brick through a few car windows.

Marc Artist: Alix, don’t be rude. Let the others have their turns.

Manon approaches Marinette Artist and asks why she’s wearing dark colors

Marinette Artist: Manon, you know I despise all colors.

A few more minutes of walking, and they see Marinette Dupain-Cheng running to school

Marinette Artist: *Checks her watch* School has begun three minutes ago. She’s not very punctual, is she?

The Artist Family follow her to the alternate DuPont to see what’s going on, then they bump into Mme. Bustier, who was making her way to the teachers lounge.

Mme. Bustier: Marinette? But I just... I saw you, all of you in the classroom. And Marc, shouldn’t you also be in class?

The Artists rush to their respective classrooms and find their alternate sleeves, much to their shock

Nathaniel Kurtzberg: ... What the fuck?!

Nathaniel Artist: I could ask the same about your outfit. Must you insult my eyes with such a color combination?

Chloé: Ha! You just got burned by yourself, tomato head!

Marinette Artist: At least he doesn’t go out looking like a clown gave him a makeover.

Chloé: I’m telling daddy!

Marinette Artist: Yes, let your father get involved with petty teenage drama. That will get him more votes in the upcoming election. Now silence.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng: ... Thank you, me?

They explain what happened, (Leaving out the part about them being superheroes because this universe’s Lila will no doubt run her big mouth to Hawkmoth who they’re sure she’s working for), and the art club is not sure how to react

Alix Kudbel: So we’re basically the Addams Family?

Lila: Oh! You know, my great great grandfather actually inspired Chauncey Addams to create the Addams Family!

While the class eats it up, the art club and Artists just glare at her

Marinette Addams: It’s Charles Addams, idiot.

Lila: Oh, you guys hate me too? *Cue bitch crying*

Juleka Artist: *Waves a skull in front of Lila* Luxor, nexor, burst and burn!

Lila: What’s she doing?

Juleka Artist: Just a curse that will make your pants burst into flames every time you lie.

Lili: *Whining* Why are you all trying to hurt me?! I never lie! *Her pants bursts into flames and she runs out of the school before she’s left in only her underwear*

Alya: *To her Marinette* My sincerest apologies.

Suddenly, screams are heard, followed by Mme. Mendelive and her students running past the classroom. Marc Anciel and Artist walk into the classroom while being trailed by a clutter of spiders

Marc Artist: Well that was quite rude, wouldn’t you say?

Marc Anciel: In their defense, spiders are a little... Horripilante.

Nathaniel Artist just stands there, trying very hard not to kiss the alternate version of his boyfriend and wondering why his alternate self isn’t going kissing his Marc madly with passion

The Artists explain to the Art Club during lunch about their situation and tell them that they’re Miraculous holders in their world, much to Marinette’s shock since she’s never heard of the Malevolent Miraculous

The art club let their alternate selves stay with them until they can figure out a way to get back, but Nathaniel and Marc Artist insist that they stay together

Alix Kudbel and Artist volunteer to let them stay with them. (Cuz they ship ‘em!)

Marinette A is stunned to see her alternate parents, and when they welcome her with open arms since her own parents were always so distant.

Even when she shows her dark nature, they still treat her like family. She tries very hard not to show any emotion

When they’re alone, Tikki and Screech reveal themselves. Tikki explains that there are alternate realities with different Kwamis with similar powers to the Kwamis they’ve alternate versions of. Screech is her alternate self

Marinette A questions why Marinette DC’s Ladybug suit is so skintight and insists that she change her suit which Marinette DC doesn’t mind doing

Marinette A tells Marinette DC about her boyfriend, Damian, confusing DC a bit. What about Adrien?

Marinette A: Adrien wasn’t able to satisfy my needs. Yes, he’s quite attractive, but I needed someone who could keep up with me, worship me, be my love servant and follow me into the underworld.

Marinette DC: ... So who’s this Damian?

Nathaniel K insists that Nathaniel A spend some time away from his Marc so they can talk without them making out every five minutes

Nathaniel A: How is it that you have not gouged out your own eyes?! Your Marc is miles away from you, and you believe you have the right to live?!

Nathaniel K: ... We call each other.

Nathaniel K is starting to regret letting his alternate self live with him since he keeps starting fires! He had to hide all of the matches and anything flammable. And if that’s not bad, Chompp keep chewing on his sketchbooks

Once all of the fire causes were hidden, they bonded over their love for painting and sketching

Nathaniel K: So, your paintings are actually cursed?

Nathaniel A: Very much. One caused the mayor to stumble down the stairs and stay in intensive care.

Nathaniel K: *Thinking of all the ways he could torture Chloé and Lila with his art* ... Teach me.

Marc Anciel is trying not to scream every time one of Marc Artist’s spiders crawl on him, not wanting to seem rude

Marc Anciel: *Shudders* Oh, and that’s a black widow in my hair.

Marc Artist: They’re my favorite. It’s why I chose the name Black Widower.

To release some of the tension, Marc Anciel suggests they read each other’s writing... He will not be sleeping for a while after reading Marc’s Artist’s stories. He asks why his alternate self wrote eulogies for his Nathaniel

Marc Artist: I want others to know of the love we shared together before he’s put to rest. And who better to write my love’s eulogy than the one who knows him best? The one who has loved him, tangoed with him, stabbed his heart.

Marc Andiel ignores the last part and actually considers writing Nathaniel’s eulogy.

Alix K and Alix A are having an awesome time together

Alix A and Duuo throw grenades which Alix K dodges while skating until Alim tells them to do this away from the museum

They outrun the police, prank Kim by putting itching powder in the pool, and watch their Marcs and Nathaniels make out

It’s all fun and well until Alix A meets this universe’ Jalil. Her Jalil sold her out since there was a reward to turn her in, forcing her to run from the authorities and she’s never forgiven him

Jalil K assures her that he’d never do that and reminds her that family always comes first. Alix A is resisting the urge to cry and instead lights a firecracker in his jacket

Juleka A CANNOT stop staring at her alternate self’s Luka. She can actually see his face and body. And he can talk!

Luka: Hey, are Marinette and I a... Thing where you’re from?

Juleka A: She has two hands. Soon to be three when she takes Damian’s in marriage when they’re of age.

Juleka C and A bond over their love for the macabre and witch culture. She even teaches her a few spells to use against Chloé and Lila if she ever shows her face again

They work! Chloé broke out into a terrible rash, and all of Lila’s pants are on fire

Rabbid also may or may not have chewed up the rest of Lila’s clothes, forcing her to spend all of her money on new clothes

Rose A tries to get used to her alternate self’s love of bright colors and Disney movies, but it’s a struggle. So, she exposes her to the darker side of Disney.

Rose L is horrified but also a little excited.

They do a dark Disney marathon and watch all of the movies Disney tried to hide from audiences.

Rose A even changes up Rose L’s look so she looks like a badass punk Princess, which gives Juleka C a slight nosebleed

Rose L is still her bubbly self, but now also has a love for the darker things in life

The Artists stay in this universe for three more days, starting another goth trend in the alternate Paris by giving Adrien a makeover, introducing Marinette to Damian via pen pal program, teaching Nathaniel and Juleka how to curse their enemies, setting Lila’s clothes on fire a couple more times, introducing Marc to a more gothic style of or writing & Rose to a punk style of clothing, and teaching Alix all of the stunts she’s never even thought of doing that involve explosives

They also have a little fun with Nino and help him pursue his dream of traumatizing Gabriel Agreste

This involves chloroform, a coffin, and a walkee talkee. Gabriel is forced to listen to Nino’s voice for 12 whole hours, telling him to be a better dad to Adrien, fire Lila, and to give him $1000 dollars

Gabriel gives Adrien more freedom, fires Lila and burns all of the magazines with her face and name in them, and gives Nino $1000 dollars. Then he passes out

Nino: *Hugging the Artists* I... I love you guys so much. I don’t ever want you to leave. You have made me the happiest man alive!

Then Alterna shows up

Nino: NO! DON’T TAKE THEM! TAKE GABRIEL!

Adrien: Hey!

Nino: I’m just kidding... Not.

The Artists and Marinette transform. The Malevolent Miraculous team are shocked to see Chat Noir but are even more shocked when they immediately recognize him as Adrien

They’re able to defeat the Akuma even though Lila (Who’s being a brat because she got fired) keeps interfering by whining about her broken leg, this time in a skirt. (Loophole) And she keeps trying to snatch their Miraculous whenever she gets close to them

Jaws: *Uses power to make his teeth sharper* Keep crying and I’ll give you a real broken leg. *Lila shuts up and lets them work*

They defeat Alterna, and Ladybug and Nocturna use the Miracle/Malevolent cure to remove all of the portals opened by the Akuma and put people back in their respective dimensions

They start to disappear and head back to their dimension as the Bats and Ladybugs swarm around them

Nino: NO! TAKE ME WITH YOU! *They disappear* DAMNIT!

Alya: You have them. *Points to the Art Club*

Nino: Can they murder Gabriel or frame him for a crime?

Juleka: We can try. There’s six of us, one of him. Nathaniel and I now know how to curse people.

Nino: I’m in!

Alya: And while you go ruin Gabriel’s life, I’m gonna go kill Lila.

Back in the Artist’s Dimension!

Juleka Artist: Are we back? Is this our dimension?

Nino: Oh, thank God you’re back! Gabriel was starting to gain consciousness again and Adrien is becoming suspicious. I think he knows I’m keeping him in my basement.

Marinette Artist: *Sighs* Yep. This is our place.

[fruitcoops]

This technically isn’t a tik tok trend, but I can totally see Sirius putting up a compilation of clips of loops playing hockey, both on the arena, and in his private rink!! Maybe as a surprise, or an anniversary of some sort, or maybe simply because he loves him so much. I know this is very vague... sorry!! I love your writing, and hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night!!

This ask is awesome and not super vague at all! It’s a different format than usual, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Have a great day! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove!

Number One: Fastest Player on the Team

Two hockey players in gold and red tensed at a starting line, then took off in a flash when the whistle blew; within moments, the player on the left pulled ahead and zipped past the camera in a blur. He reached the finish line a full two seconds before his opponent and took his helmet off—Remus’ hair was damp with sweat, but his wicked smile as Finn collapsed dramatically on the ice showed no sign of exhaustion. “Hell yeah, baby!” someone shouted behind the phone.

 Number Two: Freckles

A slideshow of pictures started to play: Remus grinning at the camera, Remus stretched out on a beach towel, Remus fast asleep in an old Wisconsin sweatshirt with his face squished against a pillow. Most of the photos must have been taken in the summertime, because dark speckles cascaded across his cheeks, chest, and arms.

 Number Three: Bookworm

A still frame from their first Tiktok showed Remus holding an empty spoon and reading his book with a deep frown, then transitioned into a new video.

“Honey, did you walk the dog?” Sirius’ voice asked out of view. There was a murmured response. “Re?”

“In here.”

In the living room, Remus was sitting sideways in an armchair, hunched over a paperback like a gargoyle. “How long have you been there?”

“Shhh, I’m reading.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

 Number Four: Smart as Hell (Also a Nerd)

“—but it’s impossible,” Remus was saying to Pots, gesturing wildly. “That’s not how space works!”

“Are you an astronaut?” Pots countered.

“I don’t have to be an astronaut to know fire doesn’t ignite in a vacuum, James! If blasters existed—and they won’t until scientists figure out either cold fusion or miniature nuclear power, but that’s a different discussion—if blasters existed, and if one X-Wing shot an Empire ship in a weak spot, the Empire ship wouldn’t explode. Fires might start inside, but as soon as it was exposed to outer space all the oxygen would dissipate and it would just break apart, or maybe implode.”

“You two realize you’re debating the physics of a movie called Star Wars, right?” Lily asked drily.

“Yes,” the two men said in unison.

 Number Five: Best Dog Parent

Another photo compilation began, this time of Remus and Hattie. In the first one, he was cradling her like a baby while she slobbered on his chin; in the second, he was standing knee-deep in a small lake and calling to her. The final picture was one of Sirius’ favorites: Hattie was splayed on the living room floor in a ray of sunshine, passed out cold, while Remus curled protectively around her side as he slept.

 Number Six: Closet Romantic

“Hey, baby?” Remus asked as he walked into the kitchen, where Sirius was eating a sandwich and scrolling through Twitter.

“Mhmm?”

“Are you French?”

“Well, kind of—”

“Because Eiffel for you.”

A vivid blush crept up Sirius’ neck and he set his sandwich down, dropping his face into the crook of his elbow. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sirius laughed without looking up. “Nobody believes me when I say you’re sappy.”

“I know,” Remus said, sounding rather smug about it.

 Number Seven: Not a Morning Person

“Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” Sirius said gently behind the camera. His hand and forearm appeared as he shook Remus’ shoulder.

“Time is it?” Remus barely moved; outside, it was still dark.

“Uh, five thirty,” Sirius said around his smile.

“Fuck off.”

“Remus!”

“If this is for a prank, you’re sleeping on the couch,” he grumbled, turning over and pulling the covers back up around his shoulders.

“You don’t want to go on a hike with me?”

“Ask again at eight or take the dog with you. Your choice.”

 Number Eight: The Laugh

A series of short clips played, each of Remus laughing. Some had Sirius in them, and each time the quick down-up of laughter happened, a dopey smile spread across his face.

 Number Nine: You’re Competitive...

Remus sped down the ice at breakneck speed and slammed into an opposing player, stealing the puck away and turning hard to pass it to Sirius. His eyes flashed as the camera zoomed in and the commentators went wild.

The next video showed him at practice, clicking the puck through cones so fast it became a blur of black until it flew into the goal at the end of the drill. “Beat that, Talker,” he called as Thomas Walker skated into the starting position. Talker mumbled something under his breath and Remus smirked.

The final clip was from the gym, where he and Logan were locked in a competition. “Put more weight on,” Logan panted to Leo, rising from yet another squat with a wince. “I can’t lose to the fuckin’ PT.”

“You can and you will,” Remus shot back as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and began a new set of squats. “Try me, Tremzy.”

 Number Nine Point Five: …And a Willing Participant in Pointless Competitions

“Hey, how fast do you think we can ride these carts down the aisle?” Pots asked. Lily’s phone camera was clear enough to capture the look he, Sirius, and Remus shared.

Sirius grabbed another shopping cart. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“We’ll race to the strip of black tiles there at the end,” Remus said, sending Lily a quick grin. “Winner gets to ride in the basket for the rest of the trip.”

 Number Ten: You Chose Me

Only one picture faded in this time. Sirius was beaming at the camera while Remus kissed his cheek, both still sweaty from practice and glowing like they had been lit up from the inside. On Sirius’ left hand, a simple gold-and-silver ring wrapped around his finger.

 New words appeared on the screen in the same script as the numbering and titles. There are a million more things I could add to this list—your sarcasm, your singing, your mischief, your big heart—because I love everything about you, and I can’t wait until we’re married. Happy anniversary, mon loup!

[blxetsi]

Hi there! I love your work!! So I know this sounds a little niche but, could we get headcanons for a reader in a polyamorous relationship with Hange and Miche please? Hope you’re having a really good day!

NO BEXAUSE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEINE TO REQUEST POLYAMOROUS STUFF OMGGGGG 😭 ty for your service anon it means a lot 😔🙏

hange and mike dating headcanons (canonverse)

zoë hange x gn!reader x mike zacharias

warnings: polyamorous relationship, and titans ??, reader is kinda innocent ?? like just easily wound up

also this is going to be SO fucking long and focused on hange for the first long bit sorry !

btw this isnt rlly dating headcanons so much as backstory, how you met, and shit leading up to actually getting together i went so fucking overboard and went the complete opposite way of what you asked ill do a part two with ACTUAL dating headcanons if youd like anon just tell me and ill do it

- i think you wouldve worked for garrison originally

- in season one when hange started the experiments on sawney and bean thats when you would've met them

- you had been a big fan of their research studies for a while, so being in front of someone you thought was so cool was a little nerve wracking

- you had just became newly appointed as a captain for a garrison squad, being one of the youngest recruits to get the position, which also meant some people thought you couldnt handle the job

- you were good at telling others what to do, and guiding them when needed, you took over the leader role very quickly, you had to if you wanted to keep the position

- although you thought you were a good leader, others didnt

- specifically older members of garrison who thought because you were so young, youd be naive

- and since you were a garrison captain, you worked closely with hange and moblit during their experiments

- any request they made for supplies or anything, went through you and youd get it for them

- they needed more help ? youre requesting three soldiers to the experimentation zone immediately. anything they needed you helped with, because you liked helping

- hange had quickly grown fond of you, they were so thankful that you were so willingly to have your squad help them. you remember the brunette grabbing your hand and saying "thank you for your dedication to this project and to science !" while bowing multiple times

- as unsanitary and childish as it was,,, you didnt wash that hand for a day

- hange saw how some members of your squad treated you, and it may have irked them a bit

- causing them to rant to moblit while writing down research data

- "hange." "i just dont get it, why dont they say anything ? theyre so nice so why dont people respect them like they should-" "hange !" "what ?!" "youre writing down captain l/n's name on your page !" "so what ?!- wait what" this causes a night of bickering between the two of them 😐🤚

- when sawney and bean died hange was devastated. you had grown to like the section commander as a friend and respected them greatly, so to see their hardwork and research all go down the drain was hard

- you immediately went into leader mode and started ordering your squad around "listen up ! i want this whole perimeter checked and searched for any evidence to help us find out who did this." a couple members groaned, and one man, who was in his early thirties made a comment about it. "theyre just stupid fucking titans. we're supposed to kill them, not keep them alive for some freak to experiment on them."

- yknow,, looking back on it maybe you shouldnt have went off on them the way you did, but you did because not only was the man questioning your authority and orders, he was blatantly disrespecting a section commander. "i am your captain. i am your leader. you will respect me, and you will listen to me. you either do i say or youll be suspended and taken off my squad immediately. and that goes for everyone ! do i make myself clear ?" you shouted. the man who had talked back raised his eyebrows, youd never once yelled or demanded things be done in a manner like this, and it clearly shocked him when you stood up for yourself.

- a bunch of murmurs came from your squad and you dismissed them, but not before stepping in front of your soldier in front of everyone. "between you and me ? you should be discharged for not only your blatant disrespect and defiance to me for months now, but also for your innapropriate and degrading comments about section commander hange. you wanna pull some shit like this in the future, not just to me but to anybody ? you should kiss your position in garrison squad goodbye, since youre too childish to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself. now grow the fuck up and go do what ive asked please." the man looked scared as he stared at you, no one had seen you act like this before, his jaw clenched as he nodded and walked off, the rest of your squad dispersing with him

- you didnt notice hange calling your name until you felt their hand on your shoulder. you turned around and saw their sympathetic gaze on you. "thank you for defending me. are you okay ?"

- you rubbed the back of your neck and answered. "honestly ? i feel kind of bad, like i embarassed him or something." the survey corps leader tilted their head back as they laughed. "youre so kind y/n, but im proud of you." the comment, although lighthearted, struck a cord with you

- a couple days later you were requested to meet with not only the section commander but commander smith, as well as your superior, dot pixis

- the meeting only lasted about thirty minutes, but hange had boasted about not only your leadership skills but also your knowledge and ideas on various sciences. erwin decided to offer you a position to work under hange, and dot pixis agreed to have you transferred to the survey corps if you agreed.

- did your decision have to do with your crush on hange ? maybe. would you ever admit it ? no.

- pixis explained to you that youd be honorably disharged from the garrison regiment before being moved to the scouts' headquarters in trost

- you surprisingly got along well with others there. working in hanges squad was fun, and even though you were demoted from a captain back to a cadet you didnt mind

- hange had offered to share as much knowledge as they could with you, which led you to be in their office (as messy as it was) after work hours

- and thats where you met mike

- well, got to know him

- hange introduced you two when you first joined and the first thing the section commander did was NOT shake the hand you held out for him but to lean down and sniff around your hair and neck

- your face felt hot as you stuttered over your words, thrown off by his,,, unique, greeting

- hange and laughed and lightly pushed him away, before explaining to you that thats just what mike did

- back to being in hanges office

- for nights on end youd stay up together in their office, two chairs huddled beside one another while you read through books of research, not just from hange but from published scientists and anthropologists too

- mike had started joining you two only three days after you and hange started

- he would stay quiet, but would sit next to hange making them be sandwiched by the two of you

- after that you started to notice him more often

- down the halls he'd send you a small smile, which you brightly returned

- sometimes he'd be in charge of training that day, and he would wordlessly help you position your arms to properly block or punch when sparring with other members

- then he started bringing tea when he would come and listen to you and hange discuss different theories, articles and information together

- you didnt even know the two were dating until you accidentally walked in on them in hange's office

- they werent doing anything dirty, just giving each other a kiss, but you had walked in on them with a stack of papers captain levi told you to give to hange.

- you kinda,, stood there, slackjawed, while the two pulled apart slowly to look at you. hange had a mischievous grin on their face while mike just gave you a blank stare

- you dropped the papers. the stack of documents levi tasked you to give to hange. you dropped them. How Embarassing.

- your face began to feel hot not just from seeing them but also because youre embarassing yourself by dropping the papers and just standing there like an IDIOT

- "uh,,, i- captain levi said to give you those documents you requested." your voice cracked at the end making you wince

- "you mean the documents that are spread out on my floor now ?" hange asked. you looked between them and the floor, then at mike, then back to the floor than back at hange. "yes." you said, and you could feel that warmth in your face spreading to your ears now too. "im sorry." you exclaimed, your voice sounding strained as you quickly walked backwords and closed the door in front of you

- you started avoiding hange and mike after that, and became hyper aware of everything that they did. they were TAUNTING YOU 🙄 you could feel it

- instead of small smiles in the halls, after you started ducking your head down when you saw mike, he would now give you head pats when you crossed him

- hange would let their hand linger on your shoulder or side as they shuffled past you during meetings or experiments, and would come closer than usual when handing you documents

- mike would give you teasing smiles when you got your ass handed to you during sparring

- and finally you were fed up ! did this count as workplace harassment ? you didnt know but you wanted answers ! so you went to the source, hange's room after dinner

- you didnt bother knocking, you just walked in with your eyes closed

- hange giggled, "what are you doing y/n ?" "making sure im not walking into something i shouldnt be seeing, section commander." "by that do you mean the kiss mike and i shared ?" "yes." "well we're not kissing right now." they said, and you peaked one eye open to be sure they werent lying, and they werent !

mike stood up from his chair and slowly made his way past you, closing the door. you took a deep breath before throwing all of your word vomit on blond and brunette duo. "so i dont know why you guys think teasing me like this is fun, but it isnt. it makes me flustered and nervous and feel weird and im not sure if it counts as abuse of power but i dont like it so it needs to stop." you huffed in a big breath of air after saying all of that, and hange rested their head in their hands.

"y/n do you have a crush on me ?" they asked. their voice was soft but they still had that stupid smile on their face. you could feel your face getting warmer by the second. your mouth opened and closed but no words came out.

" i uh, im gonna leave now." you turned around but hit something hard, and looked up at mike looking down on you, a smirk on his face. he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you back around to hange, walking the two of you over to their desk. he gave you a slight push, causing you to put your hands on the desk and lean on it, while mike kept his hands on you to keep you from running.

hange leaned into you, your noses barely touching. "i only ask because, mike and i have grown very fond of you." they said. you nodded a little bit, the tips of your noses brushing against each other.

"yeah well, id be a little sad if my superiors didnt like me, that would be kind of bad." you replied.

"can i kiss you ?" they asked.

and now is when your brain really stops functioning. thoughts fill your mind of mike and his relationship to hange. are they actually together or is it a friends with benefits kind of thing ?

"i uh, i cant kiss you." you replied, a bit breathlessly caused by both section commanders.

"why not y/n ?"

"well i'm not a cheater, or a homewrecker. i mean i assume that you and mike are together so, im not going to kiss someone in a relationship." you stammered out. this was making you very nervous, butterflies errupting in your stomach. you knew they were just teasing you, goofing around to make you flustered, but a part of you hoped youd be able to kiss hange, and maybe mike for that matter.

they chuckled a bit, before their brown eyes looking behind you to mike's towering form. "honey, can you tell y/n its okay if they kiss me ?" they asked. mike let out a small laugh through his nose before leaning down.

"only if y/n promises to give me a kiss afterwards." he whispered. he pressed a faint kiss to your temple, and you shivered from the contact. he was warm, very warm, and even though it was such a small amount of contact it did so many things to you.

you gulped before bringing your eyes back to hange. you looked to their eyes, and then to their lips, and continued that pattern silently in hopes theyd understand. you didnt want to be teased anymore ! you wanted something to happen.

hange got the hint and smirked, before leaning in again and lightly brushing her lips against yours. theirs were soft compared to mikes chapped ones, and the kiss was so slow, so innocent, it had you leaning in for more. it was a slow, lazy kiss, a kiss to test the waters, it helped calm your nerves, but also made your nerved explode with heat.

finally the researched pulled away, and put their hands on your cheeks, squishing them to pucker your lips, before giving a kiss to your forehead, nose and lips one last time. they let go with a soft smile on their face, and a blush of their own.

you could feel mike press his body down against yours, making your knees buckle slightly. he took his right hand off your shoulder to place it on hange's cheek, thumbing over the red pigmentation. he then turned your head up and to the side, before giving you a kiss of his own. this one was a bit more dominating, hard. his chapped lips scratched against your own but you didnt mind. in a weird way it made you feel at ease, having him take control of it, the same way hange did but his was just more, needy.

he pulled back with a shaky breath and looked at you before looking at hange. "so y/n," hange began. they stood up and made their way around the table, mike pulling himself and you up straight so hange could sit on the edge, pulling you in to stand between their legs. being sandwiched in between mike and hange made you so aware of them, and even though you were very new to something like this you felt weirdly safe and secure. "mike and i genuinely care about you, and we want to be with you the way that we're with each other. would you like that ?"

honestly, how could you say no ?

thats it again im sorry the anon who requested this you did not get what you asked for 😭😭😭😭 hope u all enjoyed requests r open stay safe

[hermannsthumb]

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

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Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,�� Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

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“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

[wordynerdygurl]

The Guy

Author’s Note:  Hello my lovelies!  I have to say, I love writing requests and taking part in Challenges.  It helps me sharpen my skills!  But, with the insane way the world is right now, I offered to participate in one... then lost the details.  So, with my sincere appreciation for @lancsnerd​ ,who kindly sent me a reminder about my missing “assignment”, I present the following! Summary/ Prompt:  A quote of “He’s the guy” and my boy, Loki Pairing:  Female Reader x Loki Warnings:  Swearing, Implied Smut, Fluff, Soft Loki

“Are you gonna tell me what I want to know?  Or… do we have to do this the hard way?”  Gravel filled and low, the Winter Soldier had you pinned against the rough brick wall, his metal arm holding your wrists together.

“Ooph!  Bucky!  Get off!”  “Make me, princess!”  

Kicking your legs free, you swung around Bucky, locking him in a bear hug from behind.  Squeezing him with your thighs, your forearms wrapped around his strong neck, “Tap out, Buck!” Wheezing, staggering back, Bucky tried spinning you around but even his metal arm was unable to grab you, “Never!” Applying more pressure to his windpipe, you grunted, “Give me the win!” “No way”, you felt his hard hand grip your thigh, breaking your hold.  Suddenly you were untethered, above your feet was the ceiling of the gym, and then there was no breath in your lungs.  Bucky had managed to flip you over and slam you down onto the waiting mat with reverberating force.  Gasping loudly, you curved up to meet Bucky’s waiting hand, “You alright, doll?”

Shaking your head, sitting up, “That was a dirty trick, Barnes.  I had you and you know it.” “Yea… but you still haven’t answered my question, so I couldn’t let you win.”  Pulling you to your feet easily, Bucky threw his arms around you, his warm hug an easy way to make sure there would be no lasting damage from your sparring session. “Why do you want to know so bad?”  Lowering yourself to the workout bench, forearms resting on your knees, you kept a close watch on your sparring partner. Tossing you a towel, Bucky grabbed both of your water bottles, sitting down on the mat in front of you.  Wiping the sweat away from your forehead, slugging down the cool water, you kicked at the super soldier sitting criss cross applesauce.  Leaning back, resting his weight on his arms stretched behind him, “Because...  I worry about you.  I want to make sure you’re safe… and I want to believe this guy is good enough for you.” Considering his words, you snapped your bottle shut, nodding, “I get it, Bucky.  I really do.  I’m just… not ready to talk about it.” Sensing your hesitation, Bucky patted your knee, “Just know that I’m here when you are ready.  And if he fucks up, I’ll kill him.” Laughing, you stood up with a groan, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind!” At dinner that night, Steve knocked into your shoulder, “Hey kiddo.”

“Hey Stevie!  How are you?” “It’s spaghetti night, what more does a guy need?”  It was an easy exchange, making you chuckle as he loaded a plate high with pasta and sauce before settling himself into the chair next to you. Unfolding a napkin to lay over his trousers, “Bucky told me you’ve met someone?” Flicking your eyes to the Winter Soldier, who all of the sudden was very interested in something Tony was saying, you munched on your garlic bread.  Swallowing thickly and patting your mouth clean, you turned to Steve, “Oh, he did huh?” “Yes… but he says you won’t give up this guy’s name?”  Concern was present on your friend’s face.  While you appreciated Steve's sentiment, it wasn't necessary, not entirely.  You knew what you were doing and you didn't want to be talked out of it, even by your well intentioned friends.

"I don't know why everyone cares so much.  He's a guy… I'm a girl… it's traditional and boring."

Swirling a fork through his saucy plate, lifting those dutiful blue eyes to yours, "So why the secrecy?"

Chewing, thoughtful, you considered Steve's question.  It was valid.  You were quick to acknowledge that, answering, "Um… because we're still in that love bubble.  Ya know?"

Chiming in, Bucky curious now, "Love bubble?  I don't know what that is… what does that mean?  Love bubble?"

"It's that time in a new relationship when… um… it's like…" words failing, you desperately tried to give structure to your argument.

Interrupted by Loki, sulking at the end of the long table, "She doesn't want to share her paramore.  Greedily, she wants to keep the pair in a love bubble.  Separate and safe from any interference.  Unpopped, if you will."

"Is that true? You don't want us to bug you?"  Bucky's eyes widened at the thought.

Shrugging, you dug around for another meatball, "Kinda… Look, it's not that I don't love you, Buck.  Or that I don't trust you, Steve.  It's just… all of you can be a lot to deal with.  And-" looking at the faces of each of your Avenger friends, "-my… guy… I really, really like him.  I don't want to scare him away."

Admitting it out loud, that was taking a lot of your courage but you were being completely honest.  This guy, he was just about perfect and you didn't want to blow that by bringing him around your overprotective people so soon.  Natasha, the group's mama bear, smiled.  "Seems reasonable to me.  Give her some time, fellas… if he's half as great as she says, we'll like him well enough."

Steve, smiling a little in your direction, "I don't know who he is… but it seems like he makes you happy!"

Bucky, over protective, kept hounding you, "When will I get to meet him?"

"Soon, Buck.  I promise." 

"I wonder who it is… this man you care about so much that you're protecting him from us, your dearest friends!"  It was Loki, musing from afar that made the observation, his sharp eyes on you.

"I told you-" It was Tony’s turn to interrupt, loudly calling, “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” “Start a pool.  Five dollar buy in, guesses on who this guy is… whoever has the winning answer gets the kitty!” “Tony!  Not cool!  And, not necessary!  You guys don’t really need to do this!”  But your protests went unheard as chatter erupted and a round of bills were flung on the table. Steve, murmuring to Bucky across the table, “What was that guy at the coffee shop?  Cameron?  Carson?” Snapping his fingers, Bucky answered, “Carlton!”

“He’s my guess, Tony.”  “Shit, Steve.  That’s not fair… but, ok.  Ok, my guess is Matt.  That guy from the pizza place who kept bringing extra chicken fingers for you!  You’d never admit to a date with him!”  Bucky, smug and pleased, sat back content with his detective work.

“Natasha?  Thoughts?”  Tony was typing away, his interface with FRIDAY recording all the back and forth, compiling the list of possible boyfriend candidates. Tapping her lip, Nat watched you, “Hmm… Is it Warren?  The kid from China Star who rode the Kawasaki and always wanted to take you for a ride?”

Clint leaned over you, grabbing a breadstick as he threw down a ten, “I want to put Charles, from the IT department on the list… and Juan, the recycling rep.  Both of those guys follow you around like puppies and I could see you taking pity on at least one of them!” “Nope.  No way!  She went out with Charles once already.  He was the guy who ate her french fries at dinner.  Big No-No!”  “Rhodes, how do you remember that shit?  Fine, not Charles then.  What about Frankie?  The dude from the diner?”  Clint asked the assembled team, looking for someone to back him up.

Mortified, hiding behind your hands, you grimaced.  The list, it kept growing, and you could feel icy eyes of judgement lighting you up from across the room.  You knew you’d have to answer questions later.

Jane, having joined Thor at the table, was getting caught up on your situation.  Conspiring with her Norse God of a boyfriend, she chuckled, slapping a bill on the table with the announcement, “Our money is on Loki.”

Silence overtook the room.  Everybody stared at the small, brunette scientist, evaluating if her suggestion was real or a joke.  A guffaw broke out of you and quickly gathered steam, propelling you directly into a hiccup filled giggle fit.  In a flash everyone joined in, the idea of you and Loki being together was at once so hilarious and unbelievable. It was also diverting enough that the talk of your love life died completely.  Grateful and satisfied, you finished dinner without any other questions, even offering to do the dishes.  While you were scraping remnants into the compost bucket, you felt the room’s temperature drop, noticing that Loki had slid into the room, "Love bubble is it?"

Dropping the plates into the sink, plunging your hands into the soapy water, his strong ones glide over your shoulders, "Yes.  I'm really enjoying our little bubble of love."

“Me too.”  Pressing a small kiss to the curve of your neck, Loki pulled your body close, hugging you tightly from behind.  As Loki was nearly a foot taller than you, it was nothing to tip your head up, his welcome mouth finding yours for a soft kiss.  Curving your back, your bottom rubbed against his pelvis, his desire already rising. “Although, they had a lot of suggestions, my innocent little kitten.  Should I be worried?” Shaking your head, “No.  None of those… meatballs compare with you, Loki.” “Good.  That makes me glad… and I’m pleased to know how coveted you are, my pet.”  Roving hands took the liberty of sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingertips just grazing over your bra covered breasts.

Sighing into Loki’s loving touch, “Not that you were much help!"

"What can I say?  I like seeing you squirm"  his lethal voice purred, warm against your ear.

Pirouetting in his arms, your damp hand brushing back a strand of dark curls, "Jane almost gave us away.” A small smile, almost sad, pulled down Loki’s lips, “Is the idea of you loving me so hilarious?”

“Not to me.”

His head dipped, lowering those pink lips to your own, almost colliding… when laughter, drawing near, broke your moment of connection. Effectively ending your private chat, Thor stomped confidently into the room unaware of the way Loki jumped back as if scalded, or the way your hands trembled at the possibility of discovery.  “Brother!  I need to speak with you!” Flicking his desire filled eyes to yours, Loki smirked, “Of course… to what do I owe the honor?” “I have asked Jane to be my bride!” “Brother!  It’s about time Jane made an honest man out of you!”  Loki, more than a little surprised but genuinely pleased for his sibling, hugged Thor close.  “YAY!  That’s so exciting!  Have you guys picked a date yet?”  Wiping your hands dry, leaning against the sink, you were happy to hear all of Thor's big news. Shaking his blonde head excitedly, “We shall be wed in three months time… and I was hoping that Loki would play for our special day?” 

Loki, blushing a deep rosy pink, “Thor… It’s been years.” 

“So?  What of that, God of Mischief?  You always find a way”, wagging a finger at his dark hued brother, Thor’s teasing grin was sweet. Piling on excuses, trying to gently defer his brother’s marital request, Loki added, “I don’t think I have a suitable instrument.”

That was enough for your mouth to hang open, “Wait… you want Loki to perform?  Like play music?  At your wedding?”  “Of course!  He’s the best chamber musician in Asgard.  Possibly the entire Nine Realms.”  Pride filled Thor’s words at Loki’s accomplishments, something you found impossibly charming, even if you couldn’t quite believe what he said was true.  

“Thor, really… I don't think-" Clapping a broad hand onto his younger brother's shoulder, Thor’s tone changed, “Music from home, Loki. It would mean so much, especially since… Mother and Father-”  

Loki held up a hand, stopping Thor from going further into emotional sincerity, unable to bear the rawness in his brother’s words.  Closing his eyes, agreeing, “Fine.  Ok, I’ll… I’ll do it!’  Loki could sense your watchful eyes on him, curious and questioning, as he gave into his older brother.    

With his easy smile spreading, Thor’s joy pushed the cloud of sadness away, “Our special day will be filled with music!  And flowers!  Jane has a whole… Pinterest board?  I don’t know what that is but she’s filled it with ideas-” spinning around to grab you off your feet, Thor continued, “And you’ll be invited too!  All of the team must come, not just my wayward brother!” Getting swept up in Thor’s passionate excitement, you laughed, offering up more congratulations and promises of attending.  As your toes touched the floor, Thor pulled Loki away, “Jane says you will take Darcy as a date for the ceremony.” Tilting his head, Loki shrugged shyly, speaking loud enough for you to hear, “Uh… actually, I already have a date.” Gripping Loki in a rib smashing hug, Thor squeezed his little brother tightly, “That is marvelous news!  Jane will be so pleased!  So, who’s the lucky girl?” Smiling, you watched them go, happy to see the pair so connected.  You didn’t need to hear Loki’s answer.  You knew who he’d be taking to Thor’s wedding.

That night, as you were toweling dry your cropped hair, a pop of green light signaled the arrival of your secret boyfriend.  He was positively electric, grabbing you by the terry robe covered hips, and kissing you swiftly.  Loki's hands rubbed over the soft fabric on your back until they cradled your smiling face, "Hmm… you smell so clean that it makes me think dirty thoughts."

Giggling, you rose up on your toes, curling your hands into his tangle of dark hair.  You bent his waiting mouth to your own, savoring the sensation of shared breath, as your tongue flicked over Loki's lips, “Dirtier than that?” Nodding, his heated look hungry, “Oh yes.” "How dirty are we talking?", you teased, resting your cheek against Loki's chest.  His rich laugh, rumbling through his core, joined your own.  Pressing his forehead to yours, Loki sighed sweetly, "I missed you…"

"I just saw you at dinner!"

"But it's been too long.  I… I need more."

Turning to hang up your towel, over your shoulder, "More what, my prince?"

"More of you."  Having gained on you while your back was turned, Loki was behind you now, wrapping his long arms around your waist.

Squealing, delighted, "LOKI!  Someone will hear!"

Dropping you quickly on the mattress, Loki shimmied up beside you, toying with the open collar on your robe, "So?"

"So… they'll find you here."

Thoughtfully, Loki’s proud look captured your own, "Maybe I don't care.  Not anymore… Maybe I don't want to keep you and me… us, a secret."

Swallowing hard, your gaze trapped by Loki's earnest expression, "Really?  You're ready to pop the love bubble?"

His fingertips brushed over the thin skin between your breasts, "Yes?  I… I think so.  Are you?"

Biting on your bottom lip, scrutinizing his handsome face, "Loki, I…"

Freezing, his hand stalled, and Loki sat back on his heels.  Looking out your window, shoulders slumping in resignation, "You don't want to tell anyone.  You are ashamed to be with me."

Swiftly sitting up, cupping his face with your hands, crooning, "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

Shrugging away from your touch, "You don't care for me, not like you claim to, if you won't declare your feelings for all to hear."

"Loki!  That's not it at all."  

Letting you tug him closer, Loki's tear filled eyes still refused to meet your own, "Loki… I… I love you.  And… I just don't want to share you.  Not yet, anyway.  That is-" putting your arms around his neck until you were nose to nose with the red-rimmed eyes of an emotional Odinson, "-my only reason for keeping our romance quiet."

Whispering, Loki was too shocked to shake you off, "You… love me?"  His voice wavered, as if the idea of being loved by you had never been a real possibility, as if something impossible was occurring right here and now.

On your knees, sighing, you started pressing tiny kisses along those sharp as knives cheekbones, "Yes.  I am crazy in love with you, Loki Odinson."

Loki had held you tightly before; in the night when terrific dreams haunted his sleep, in the night when he claimed your body for his own.  But this embrace, after telling the dark Prince the truth in your heart, had no equal.  

Still taller than you, even though you were both kneeling, Loki's right arm wove around your waist forcing your hips flush with his own.  His left supported your back, his hand cradling the nape of your neck, helping him kiss you soundly.  It was conquering.  

You were his.  Body and soul.  What's more?  He was yours.

Coming up for air, panting from the work of loving you, "My dove, my dearest one… I love you too."

Shucking your robe was easy and Loki savored the lavender soap scented skin he exposed.  If a spot of you wasn’t kissed, it was licked. If not licked, nipped.  If not nipped, it was caressed.  And Loki was very thorough. When you mewled, weak from forced pleasure, “Loki… please.  Make love to me.” he was eager to comply. “Look at me, darling girl.”  Puffing out your pleasure filled breath, skin dewy with perspiration, you met Loki’s eyes with your own.  Resting his hand over your heart, he lifted your own, letting you feel the pattern of his pulse.  “It beats for you and for you alone.” In the afterglow, laying in Loki’s arms, you stifled another giggle.  Groggy from exertion, Loki opened one eye, “What’s so funny?” “You never told me you play a musical instrument.” “You never asked.”

“Are you any good?”

“You’ll find out when you accompany me to Thor’s wedding.” --- With his heavy cello, Loki took a seat on the edge of the dance floor, taking just a moment to get settled.  A beautifully strange combination of concentration and relaxation mingled over the features you loved so dearly.  Fiddling with strings, taking a moment to tune the instrument, you admired his long, talented fingers as they took their place on the frets. The din of conversation was silenced when the first low note of Loki’s song echoed through the ballroom.  Everyone paused, entranced at the melody weaving its way through the throng of well wishers.  Many were surprised, but not you, not entirely. You knew how long Loki had been preparing for this moment.  It wasn’t all about making Thor’s day special, although, that was surely part of it.  No, he planned to seduce every single person with sound.  Giving all of the attendees a taste of what being loved by Loki was like, he hoped The Avengers would see that he was worthy of you in all ways. Mesmerized, the bow danced over the strings, each note perfectly played.  It wasn’t hard to picture those shapely digits dancing over your skin in the dark of night.  Sending a shiver up your back, you sipped at your champagne, unwilling to take your eyes off of Loki. “I didn’t know he was so talented.”  Bucky, stiff in his tuxedo, sidled up to you with Steve in tow. “Me either.  Look at those fingers fly!” “Guys… hush.”  Shooting a silencing glare their way, you let the music transport you, swaying just a bit at the soothing sound. Too soon, in your opinion, the last lingering note of Loki’s song filled the hall.  Rising swiftly, Loki bowed at the applause, then turned to the happy couple.  Thor hugged his brother close, while Loki kissed Jane’s hand with a gentlemanly air.  Conversations started again, quiet at first, then gaining strength as Loki strode across the room.  Snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray, his eyes trained on you, Loki accepted accolades as he moved ever closer.  Another server took his empty glass as Loki finally made his way to you.

Scooping you up, Loki spun you slowly in a circle, your gown snapping behind you in an emerald wave of chiffon and lace.  “Loki!  Come on, put me down!” “As my lady commands”, when your mouth passed close enough to his own, Loki kissed you as if you had never kissed before.  You pushed your hands through his dark locks, a hand on each side of his face, “You were amazing, babe.  Just amazing!”

“You really think so?” “Absolutely!”  His arm settled on your waist, keeping you tight to his side, as you were handed another glass of bubbly.

Bucky, leaning against Steve, wore a look of wide eyed shock, “Um.  Loki… what the fuck are you doing?"

"Agent Barnes, do I really need to explain?"

Mouth dropping open, Bucky gaped, "He’s the guy?  Really?  You’re telling me Loki is the guy?” “She’s not telling us, Buck… she’s showing us.”

“But Stevie…?  Loki?  You?  You’re the guy who makes her happy?  The one who she’s been covering for?” Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, just a touch guilty, “I am.  And, I’m madly in love with her.” “I’m happy Bucky.  Stevie… really.  Loki is… he’s my everything.  I love him, too.”  

As your secret was outed, the group formed a circle around you and Loki.  Questions were shouted, congratulations extolled, Loki was clapped on the back more than once.  Natasha gave you a wink and the "ok", which was really all the approval you needed. 

“So, who won the pool then?”, Clint couldn’t help asking. “Me… and Thor”, the bride stepped right up to Tony with her hand out ready to take the prize money. “No fair!  He’s your brother in law now.  He probably told you!”  Rhodey chimed in, unsatisfied with the final results. Defending her methods, Jane spun in her wedding dress, “No way!  I used my powers of scientific deduction.  I knew she was head over heels for Loki the night we announced our engagement.” Wondering, you looked at Jane, “You did?  How?  I mean, I didn't tell anyone.  We didn't tell anyone ” “You didn't have to!  You two wouldn’t look at each other.  Dead give away.”  Counting her cash, Jane smiled at you. “That may be true, but I promise you this, Odinson… break her heart and I’ll kill you.”  Bucky shook Loki’s hand good naturedly, if a little too long, stopping only when Steve pulled him away. Gazing down at you, adoration evident in his face, Loki husked, “Not to worry, Agent Barnes.  She has my heart you see... and I plan to be her guy as long as she’ll have me.”

Tagging my Minxes:  @lancsnerd​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @sammy-jo1977�� @queenofmischief​ @iamverity​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @wolfsmom1​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @mizfit2​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @jessiejunebug​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @capcapcapsicle​ @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​ @thenatalie @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @is-it-madness​ @jenjen8675309​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @poetic-fiasco​ 

[aperfecttimeforscreaming]

10 reasons why a poorly adjusted adult Dib is a Valid headcanon

1. Dib is/was a neglected child

Dib doesn’t have a parent that he can lean on and go talk to for advice, his father is frequently out of the picture and doesn’t give a shit about the thing that Dib cares about. Dib is actively encouraged by his neglectful father to give up on it, actually. I believe this would make Dibs stubborn streak really bitter and spiteful. Most people reading this are LGBTQ+, I assume I don’t need to explain how a fucked up an isolated upbringing, or being unable to be yourself around a parent, hurts you in the long run. 

2. Dib is bullied for the things he is passionate about, and being bullied heavily colours your perception of other people 

The world of Invader Zim is not kind, Dib is frequently harassed by his classmates/superiors/family for his outbursts/lectures/overall investigator shtick. 

Now you might say “but, Screaming, wouldn’t Dib learn to tone it down as he got older?” and YEAH. Probably! But does that mean that he would just forgive all the people that made his life horrible before that point? Or who socially ostracized him for the things he’d done in the past? No. No one is under any  obligation to forgive anyone who hurt them, and I think Dib wouldn’t even try to forgive someone he saw as intellectually inferior 

3. Dib is a selfish rich kid

Dib is selfish. He wants to be the protector of earth- but he doesn’t do it for earths sake. He’s clearly doing it as a cry for attention/ a reason to eventually be vindicated for being spit on by his own kind.  I don’t think he would have genuine empathy for other people. If he did have it, it’d have to be something he had to work really hard at. However, I don’t see Dib putting much effort into understanding other humans. 

Dib is rich (probably). This one being more of a headcanon- in the series Dib wants for no material object, he wastes technology on his explorations like it’s something he can just pick up from the dollar store, his father is a world renowned scientist with access to crazy technology and the ears of world leaders. I think he’d feel entitled to one or two things 

4. Gaz is not her brothers keeper. 

She’s not responsible for his mental health, she’s not responsible for keeping him in line and “normal”. Most of the time she doesn’t want a damn thing to do with him. If we’re going by the standards of the IZ tv show, the only times that Gaz interfered with Dibs paranormal investigations were when Professor M. Was also involved. Either she wanted to see her dad and Dibs antics were getting in the way (forcing her to intervene), or she was directly ordered by their dad to keep Dib out of trouble.  Sure, you could argue that she would beat the shit out of Dib for doing something she didn’t like- but that wouldn’t “fix” the mind of a very stubborn person. It might even make them dig their heels in even deeper out of spite and bitterness as a “fuck you I’m right you’re wrong” 

Furthermore, as Gaz gets older she’s going to have her own life to worry about and might stop tolerating the way Prof. M uses her as a middle man to deal with his “poor insane son”. She’s under no obligation to fix any of the phases Dibs life might go through. If Dib was unpleasant enough, and Gaz had the resources to leave, I think she might just bail on him. 

5. Dib is arrogant 

He's gonna do what he thinks is the best course of action unless you physically stop him from doing so. He comes from a place of thinking that he is right, the opinion of anyone else is secondary. Dib will do “what needs to be done” for “the greater good”. Whatever he thinks that “good” is. He wants to play the white knight at any cost. He cannot be in the wrong, or that bravado towards being righteous in the end crumbles. I think Dib would subscribe to a “the ends justify the means” mentality

6. Dib would harm another person to get what he wanted

In a room with a moose, Dib debates letting himself die just to take his entire class down with him. In the unaired episode “return of Keef”, he co-operates with Zim in an attempt to make Keef explode, because he thinks Keef is irritating. Dib used Gaz to test out an ancient spell book, cursed Gaz to only taste pork, and then only helped fix the problem when threatened with physical violence. This could be the kind of thinking that gets worse over time as more people mock his attempts to save and protect them. Why care about people that don’t even give a shit if they live or die?  Dib is a smart fringe personality in his world, and the otherness that he feels for that could lead to a sociopathic way of thinking if things went bad enough 

7. Dib does not care about other peoples personal space

Dib hides cameras in Zims house. Dib ran right past the front gate at NASA Place, Dib chased a baby big foot up a radio tower. Dib bullied Zim physically on the playground using his known weaknesses against him. Dib would do anything to get the evidence he needed to prove what he wanted to prove, and that would get him in trouble. Repeatedly

8. Antisocial tendencies (like spending countless hours fused to a chair, or most of your young adult life spent hunched over a desk at a computer screen) make it difficult to smoothly socially integrate, and the world of Invader Zim is fuckin' mean

You know the world he comes from is mean. However, assuming Dib did find community somewhere, who’s to say they would agree with him? Or like him? Maybe one of them would cause problems for him that were bad enough he’d have to leave. I’ve always found that the IZ portrayal of earth to be like this funny cynical parody of a dystopian police state america. If we’re going by “what can go wrong will go wrong”, Dibs social integration wouldn’t get easier without a bunch of effort on Dibs part. Maybe Dib would have to pretend to be somebody unlike himself just to get by in his day to day adult life. If we see Dibs country of residence as a police state, the world Dib grows up in would encroach heavily on his personal privacy, and that might make him even stranger via paranoia 

9. Sadistic tendencies towards anything paranormal (obsessed with the act of dominating and exposing the unknown)

Dib is a fucking jerk to Zim (rightfully so), but Dib is a dick to pretty much every supernatural thing he comes across. Either out of an excess of enthusiasm, or using a supernatural being to further his own plans, or from an invasion of privacy, or being an irritant to the entity he’s dealing with. He LIKES to be mean to them.  He  wishes to have mastery over knowing how they work. (maybe it’s more fair to say Dib is a voyeur?)  

This is more headcanon than anything, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say he might also want to control the paranormal for his own purposes. If Dib could say- catch a ghost in a jar so he could show it to everyone, he’d do it. If he could trick a werewolf into transforming on stage in front of a large audience? He’d do that.

10. Dib is created to be Zims equal

Dib is as “evil” as Zim is and vice versa. Neither of them is good, or pure, or morally justified. It’s a nice little grey dynamic. Both characters think they’re entirely in the right when they act. That they often aren’t in the right is fun because then you get to write/draw/ think about how they’d react to the consequences. Dib could still totally be a hero in his own mind, despite setting an apartment block on fire to flush out a coven of litches.

The reverse of this is also true, Zim can do nice things, and occasionally be good as Dib can be good. I figure the Zim/Dib dynamic changes for everyones interpretations at least somewhat. Having Zims terrible actions rub off on Dib as their battles escalate is a really fun way to go about exploring their relationship 

11. I like the it

There is no right or wrong way to enjoy a cartoon character! Live to make yourself happy in fandom! If you ever thought you needed permission to create rancid content, I’m sorry you felt pressured not to do it. 

You want to make a serial killer Dib?? You want to make a basement dwelling depressed zit covered Dib?? You want to make a Dib who struggles with his trauma through substance abuse?? Go HAM!! 

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1975

The X-Men, those super dramatic mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 94 - 96) - by Chris Claremont, Len Wein and Dave Cockrum

You think I won’t automatically be able to include a powerful Storm-moment in every instalment? Watch me. Claremont is a much bigger Storm-fan than I am. (X-Men 96)

So, originally, the plan for the All-New X-Men would’ve been very different: the series would have remained Giant-Sized and it would’ve come out four times per year. This format would have allowed enough room to split focus between thirteen team-members. However, when the Krakoa-issue turned out to be crazily uncannily astonishingly popular, the series became a bi-monthly series. This necessitated some changes, especially in the roster.

Also, there’s this new writer? Chris Claremont? idk man, he seems a little dramatic

The first thing this new kid on the block does, is clean house: he jettisons almost all of the original X-Men, except for Cyclops. In a tear-filled goodbye, we finally get our first on-panel kiss between Jean and Scott. Fucking finally, only took you twelve years, but also: aw.

C’mon Scott, you can try long distance! Consider the benefits, like not having to look at your girlfriend dressing like a Hart-of-Dixie villain. (And don’t think you’re off the hook, Lorna. You look like a Christmas ornament) (X-Men 94)

Sunfire, surprising no-one, also leaves. (For real this time.) I’ve always wondered what the original plan for him would have been, but considering there are two other grumpy and angry rebels on the team (Thunderbird and Wolverine), I understand why Shiro would be a little redundant. It is a shame that it’s a POC that gets discarded, especially considering what happens later.

No time for absent souls, let’s get into the plot! Thunderbird desperately wants to prove himself, while Scott wants him to show some restraint. They butt heads and T-bird gets hurt during training. Despite his injury, he insisting he joins the team on their next mission! Because it’s the Avenging Ex-X-Man Beast who calls for aid.

I love that Beast brushes aside this almost entirely new team of X-Men just as easily as my aunt brushed aside the new boyfriend I brought home for Christmas. (X-Men 94)

As an aside, I’m assuming y’all know what happened to the Beast: in the Avengers, he experimented on himself and turned himself furry and blue. One of his most iconic moments! (And it didn’t even happen in an X-Men comic.)

Count Nefaria has once again allied himself with a team of silly super-villains and invaded the NORAD (North-American Air Command) in order to ransom the entire world with nuclear weapons. When the X-Men approach, Count Nefaria shoots them from the sky and we get one of the hallmarks of Claremont’s writing: the sometimes unnecessarily DRAMATIC CLIFFHANGER! Because the issue ends as the X-Men plummet to their FOR SURE INEVITABLE deaths…

Except, you know, Colossus doesn’t really do falling damage and Storm and Banshee can fly.

Look, realistically, all of them would’ve hit the ground somewhere around Kurt’s second sentence. (X-Men 95)

When everyone is safely down, Nightcrawler teleports inside the base and lets the rest of the X-Men in. Colossus gets to shine by protecting the rest of them from bullets, while Storm washes the hypnotized soldiers away with a quick flood. They fight the Ani-Men but the two X-Men who haven’t had the time to shine… are promptly knocked out.

“Gort wanted to take out that mutant, so Gort just threw the first thing Gort could find.”

“Which was?”

“Another mutant.” (X-Men 95)

Banshee and Thunderbird perform pretty poorly, while the other X-Men try and stop the Doomsday Clock that Nefaria started.

It’s a little confusing how the clock is stopped - somehow, all the fighting and ruckus in the base stopped the clock from going to zero, preventing the launching of the nukes? Seems like a design flaw, US government! Anyway, the Doomsday Clock is not the focus of this story, not really: this is a story about John Proudstar and his desperate need to prove himself. In order to stop Count Nefaria from escaping, the heretofore useless John jumps on his plane and begins tearing at it.

It’s a foolish plan. The plane ascends and begins to smoke while John keeps pulling off bits and pieces. Banshee gives chase, screaming at Thunderbird to get the fuck off that thing (laddie). But…

Just like John, Charles doesn’t recognize a hopeless situation when he’s right in the middle of it and is just as unwilling to let go. (X-Men 95)

Now, John Proudstar is not entirely unproblematic as a character. With Storm, they get things mostly right, especially considering what decade this was and how white Marvel was. Thunderbird, on the other hand, veers dangerously close to becoming a nasty indigenous stereotype, especially considering his outfit and attitude. Claremont will redeem himself in the future by writing much better characters that are Cheyenne and Apache - Forge, Mirage, Warpath - but as it stands now? John is barely a flat character and it’s a shame that, after writing out Sunfire, the first character to die is also a POC.

And yet, despite the fact that this storyline is Claremont’s first X-Men attempt, and despite the fact that it’s uneven, over-dramatic and has a silly villain, it still takes balls to kill a member of a barely established team. (Especially considering the time and age.) And, while the plotting is a bit thin, the moment where Xavier feels Thunderbird die is pretty effective.

The next story is a lot more typically Claremont, and a lot better. Back in Westchester, Emo!Scott, in all his failure-as-a-leader, someone-died-on-my-watch anguish, damages a cairn when he lets loose. Randomly, this is a capstone to some demonic dimension and Scotty accidentally unleashes a demon.

Can´t you imagine this scene being a lot funnier if the yellow panels are just Claremont shouting at Cyclops? Can’t you?! Can’t you?! (X-Men 96)

Meanwhile, Stephen Lang, an anti-mutant army-man, wants to kick off Project Armageddon, which builds on themes established by the Trasks. Michael Rossi, a colonel who gets imported from the Ms. Marvel-lines Claremont was working on before, wants to hear none of this, so Stephen has a little accident arranged.

Back in the mansion, a surprise new addition to the cast arrives!

Maybe housekeeper was one of the identities Moira X had tried out in a previous life, before quickly realizing that being a scientist would better suit her purposes. (X-Men 96)

Her welcome is rudely interrupted by the arrival of the demon!

More like Unholy Hannah, amirite? (X-Men 96)

Both Wolverine and Storm get their chance to shine, before Storm manages to restore the cairn and lock out the demon invasion. And this is where Claremont actually shines. He’s great at building concurrently running storylines, teasing future plots instead of making it a mishmash of X-Men being attacked by random villains. Furthermore, he actually uses action scenes to further the plot or give depth to his characters. Deftly, he introduces Wolverine’s berserker side and teases at Storm’s claustrophobia. Check it out:

Hey, James, I think your barbarian just unlocked the berserker rage feat. (X-Men 96)

Sure, Claremont sometimes makes the X-Men little more than a superhero soap opera, but he does it so well. We’re truly in a new era now. I can’t wait.

For Whom the Death Tolls: Thunderbird. One of the few X-Men for whom death is actually a sort of permanent state. Has he been spotted on Krakoa yet?

What could have been: Imagine X-Men if Sunfire or Thunderbird had taken the place of ‘angry loner’ on the team, instead of Wolverine. Also, I wonder why Claremont never bothered to connect the demons under the cairn to Limbo - the N’Garai are an entirely separate dimension. Maybe Westchester is just a hotbed of demonic activity.

What to read: None of it is truly pivotal, but X-Men 94 and 95 are hallmarks for the death of Thunderbird. X-Men 96 should be on your reading list if you’re a fan of Wolverine and Storm.