#help the data nerd is taking over

[snugspheal]

I just saw that its been 9 years since Heaven Sent (my beloved, happy birthday!). Which is just, wow. That still feels so much like last series to me

And then I thought, wow series 9 was 9 years ago! It's crazy that we've only just done series 14 when you think like that. 9 years to get 5 more series

In those 9 years (from&including Heaven, to be generous), we've had 48 standard episodes and 12 specials. That's 6.67 episodes per year (which is somehow less than 2021 gave us with Flux)

9 years ago and prior, we would fairly consistently* (2012/s7 im looking at you) get 13-14 eps a year. Its crazy to think how much these gap years and episode count drops have really impacted just how much Who has been put on tellie

Anyway here's to hopefully more consistent output in the 9 years to come! 😅

[traveler-at-heart]

Hot and Cold

Summary: Natasha's playing with fire when a new resident joins the Compound.

A/N: Queen of Angst @esposadejoyhuerta asked for the fluffiest, sweetest, tooth rotting story ever and I was happy to deliver, even after they changed their request to inclue jealousy BECAUSE no one can stop me. Love ya, baby!

Another day, another mission. Since last week’s mess, it seems like Fury’s been finding ways to torture the team.

Yes, at the end they were able to retrieve the drive with the data of over twenty enhanced individuals. But so did HYDRA. And now the Avengers are on a race against time to locate them before the Russians do.

Natasha walks to Fury’s office, not excited at the prospect of risking her life to recruit people who didn’t really want to be found.

“Yes?” she says as soon as Fury turns around. He hands over a very heavy binder. “Is this their criminal record?”

Great, a weirdo with a troubled past. Natasha might not make it out alive.

“No, that’s their academic stuff. She’s a scientist. Crazy smart” Fury explains. “Have you heard of Bio-Thermokinesis?”

“No, not really”

“The ability to manipulate the body temperature of oneself and/or others” he recites, having learned the concept just now.

“That doesn’t sound so bad” Natasha says, closing the folder. It’s certainly better than the last few people she had to chase down.

“Yeah, until she induces a heat stroke or hypothermia” Fury scoffs. “We’ve been failing at recruiting these people. It would be nice to have a win. Plus, she could work in the lab with Banner and Stark”

“I don’t think Nerd Club is worth one’s freedom” Natasha mutters, skimming through the file.

“Well, either way, this mission doesn’t requires strenght. It requires charm. You up for it or should I send Hill?”

As Natasha gets to the picture of the target, she looks up.

“I’ll handle it”

—

As usual, you’re carrying more than you can possibly handle. Books, your laptop, a sandwich from the cafeteria, and correspondence from the main office.

By the time you manage to open the door to your office, half of the things in your arms are dangerously close to scattering across the hardwood floor.

“Oh, shit” you mutter when your keys drop.

“Need a hand?” a voice says and you jump back, the rest of your stuff flying across the room. 

“Uh… can I help you?” you say, because the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen is perched up on your desk, legs crossed and a playful smirk across her striking features.

“Are you Doctor Y/L/N?”

“Yes. How did you…? I’m pretty sure the door was locked” 

Is she a thief? You have absolutely nothing of value, at least not for a conventional burglar. You run every possibility in your mind and then you land on your second least favorite one.

Natasha notices the room getting warmer, probably because of how flustered you got. The file seems accurate regarding your power.

“AC broke down?” she asks innocently, undoing the top button of her shirt.

“Uh… I… I’ll open the window” you say, pushing it and leaning against the window pain. You consider jumping down to escape, but it’s a considerable height. You take a breath, deciding to face the matter head on. “So, which agency sent you?”

“Ever heard of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yes, that was my first guess” you admit with a sad smile. “What can I do for you, Agent…?”

“Call me Natasha” she says, hopping off the desk. “I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad news… and a generous offer”

“Mmm” you nod, fixing your glasses. 

“A tactical team was sent to stop the purchase of confidential information for 30 enhanced individuals. We were able to obtain it… and so did HYDRA”

“Listen” you raise your hand, taking off your glasses and pinching the bridge of your nose. “I get it. HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. know about me. The thing is, my power isn’t something you can leverage in a fight. I doubt they’ll be very interested in me”

“I think you’re wrong. And it’s not just your ability. Your expertise in science and your genetic makeup can be used to experiment”

“So, is that what S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to do with me?” you sigh, looking out the window. You’re enjoying the view, vaguely aware that life as you know it is over.

“We want to offer you shelter at the Avengers Compound. 24 hour security, top facilities and technology. You can continue your research” Natasha says, trying to make it sound like a great deal.

It brings her back to that time Fury told her it was either work for the US government or end up in the Raft.

Your offer is slightly better, but a golden prison is still a prison.

“Are there any questions I can answer before you make a decision?” she offers with a kinder tone.

“Yeah. Do I even have a choice?”

—

Academic life is all you’ve ever known. Grants were the perfect way to do your research without having to look for a benefactor and expose yourself. You could learn things about your DNA, your abilities, while doing other stuff without anyone noticing.

Now, you wake up and there’s nothing that drives you. You live with people who have exceptional skills, physical prowess, and military training. Their world is avenging, your world is scientific papers and books.

Sure, their lab is nice, but most of the times you end up leaving early, completely unmotivated and feeling empty. 

Natasha watches from afar, and although this isn’t her doing, she feels responsible. She tries to include you in activities she understands, like training, but you’re very obviously not the athletic kind.

Banner is, as usual, isolating himself and Tony speaks nerd, but is barely around unless a mission requires his presence. 

It isn’t until one day that Peter shows up to the Compound that Natasha gets an idea.

“Hi, Miss Romanoff. Is Mister Stark around?” he asks in that shy tone he always uses when he’s around Natasha.

“Nope, not to my knowledge. Do you need anything?” 

“FRIDAY told me to meet him here. He must have forgotten. I guess I better get back to my Biochem project”

Wait a minute.

He’s a nerd.

“Stay” she says, looking him up and down. Peter reminds her of a puppy when he stops completely, as if he learned a new command. “Wait for Tony at the lab. I’ll try to find him”

“You’re sure? I’m not allowed inside by myself” he hesitates, following Natasha.

“Yeah, it’s fine” she types in the access code, and of course, there you are, spinning in your chair.

As soon as you hear the door opening, you stop your movements, almost falling off.

Natasha finds your blush adorable.

“Hey, Y/N. This is Peter. He’ll be around waiting for Tony”

“Oh, hey. Ok, I was just leaving. I’m kinda stuck either way”

“Ordinary Differential Equations?” Peter says as soon as he gets his eyes on your board.

“Yes. Very impressive” you nod. “This is focused on genetic network. I’m trying to determine inborn errors of metabolism”

“Oh, you know? There’s a brilliant Doctor who’s working on that, maybe her paper would be great for you. She’s Y/N Y/L/N”

“Yeah, that’s me” you say, tapping your chin and examining the board. “What is your ability? If you have any? Maybe I can use a different set of data”

“Yes! I would love to, what do you need from me?” Peter says, a little starstruck at finding out you’re one of the most prestigious researchers in the world. 

“For now, a blood sample” you wink at him, adjusting your glasses.

Natasha sits in the back of the lab as you and Peter work together, and you explain every concept to him. This is the first time since you arrived that you don’t look so miserable.

The Russian takes it as a small win when you join her in the common area for dinner.

--

Since Peter found out about your abilities and your permanent stay at the Compound, you’ve been advising him on his project and college applications. Which is a really nice distraction, but it also makes you miss your own college days.

So, even if you’re in a better mood, it’s still hard to socialize with the team.

One day, you enter the lab to find Rogers, Wilson and Barnes looking at a screen, while Natasha types.

“Whoever encrypted this is slightly smarter than me. Only slightly” 

They look away as you drag a chair to focus on your own stuff, a cup of coffee in your hand and a cookie in your mouth.

“Hi…” you wave at them, feeling intimidated as usual.

“Hey, weather girl” Sam winks at you. 

Natasha rolls her eyes and elbows him.

“Ignore him, Y/N”

You can tell she’s getting frustrated, so you inch closer, looking at the code over her shoulder. Placing your hand on her elbow, you silently ask for permission to take over.

The redhead eyes you curiously, but stops typing and moves the keyboard your way. It takes you twenty seconds to hack into the files.

“How…?”

“I used to hack into databases to make sure my name wasn’t on any watchlist” you explain casually. Natasha laughs at that. “Anyway, there you go”

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re my hero” Natasha says, smiling up at you. Her tone makes you blush and you nod, going back to your desk.

“Nice work. We could use your help if you’re free some other time” Steve says as they leave the lab.

“Of course, Capitan” 

—

An intruder changes your mind about training. The threat is handled swiftly and you don’t even have time to hide before F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms the suspect has been taken into custody

But you don’t even know how to begin to defend yourself, so you come back to Natasha, asking if her offer still stands.

Needless to say, the spy is more than happy to train you. Not just because it means you’re comfortable asking for things, but because Natasha can teach you something that will help you protect yourself.

You start with two sessions per week, which later turns to four, until you’re comfortable with training almost daily.

The rest of the team joins from time to time, giving you advice and helping you when Natasha’s away on missions.

After a few weeks, Natasha notices how your resistance is better and you’re building some muscle.

Only as a professional observation. It’s not like she finds you attractive, with that nerdy charm and toned arms.

One day, as you’re leaving the gym, she checks her bag, cursing when she notices she forgot a change of clothes. 

“Wanna borrow one of my hoodies?” you offer, handing over your NYU sweatshirt.

“You sure?” Natasha hesitates.

“Yeah, I got tons of these. From all the places I’ve done work or research” 

“I’ll give it back” she promises, taking it.

That turns out to be a lie.

A few days later, when you’re folding your laundry, F.R.I.D.A.Y. requests that you join Tony and Banner in the lab. Leaving the basket in the living room, you think nothing of it, nor do you notice that a couple of your sweatshirts are gone.

It all comes to light a week later, when Natasha comes back from a grueling mission. The only thing that will make her feel better is staying in her room while wearing your UCLA hoodie.

She totally forgets about her attire when she answers the door.

“Huh, so that’s where it was” you tilt your head, smiling.

“I…”

“I’m watching a movie, care to join me? It’s one of your favorites” 

“Ok” she nods, surprised that you’re not mad about the stolen sweatshirt. 

Natasha enters your room, appreciating the combination of books, notes and the board with equations. After you apologize for the mess, you offer a place to sit in your bed.

“It looks good on you” you compliment the redhead. Natasha smiles, trying to be nonchalant about it.

“Thank you” 

It becomes a habit, to steal your hoodies.

“Objectively speaking, you don’t actually need them as you can regulate your temperature” Natasha comments one day, digging through your closet. To her shock, she finds a sweatshirt with a sorority logo on it.

“Not mine. A girl I hooked up with in college” you explain.

Natasha rolls her eyes, throwing the garment as far away as possible while pulling a face. You laugh at her reaction.

“Don’t be jealous, Natty. You’re my favorite” you promise, unaware of the effect your words had on her.

“And yet you never let me wear the Harvard one”

“That was my first” you shrug your shoulders.

“First college or first hook up?” Natasha taunts and you laugh.

“A nerd never kisses and tell. Actually, a nerd rarely kisses anyone to being with” you try to joke, pulling out the Harvard sweatshirt from your closet to put it on.

Natasha eyes it, and you catch her intentions a little too late. She inches forward and you stretch your arm back, trying to place the hoodie out of reach.

“Nu-uh” you shake your head, laughing as she keeps trying to steal it. “Natasha, there are like ten other hoodies you  could take!” 

“I want this one!” she insists, jumping. Her body crashes against yours, and you both stumble, falling in your bed. Limbs are tangled and her laugh tickles your ear as she struggles to lift herself up. After a moment, Natasha smiles, looking at your lips. “Gotcha”

You don’t even know what to say, her intense stare making you feel warm -both literally and figuratively - and your heart beats faster when it seems like she’ll lean forward and kiss you.

“Agent Romanoff, there’s an urgent call for you” FRIDAY interrupts the moment. 

Natasha sighs, standing up and looking at you. 

“Catch you later?”

“Yeah” you nod, trying to hide your disappointment.

—

Natasha was gone for a week, and returned with a very bad injury. You heard the news as Steve and Tony were arguing in the kitchen, blaming each other as usual.

“Where…? Is she ok…?” you try to interrupt them, but they’re in the middle of a screaming match.

“Come with me” Maria says, taking you to a whole different wing of the Compound. Since you’ve never been on missions, you didn’t know about the Medbay.

Natasha’s lying in a hospital bed, asleep.

“She’s ok. A guy threw a knife at her, but it was only a superficial stab wound. Doctor said she’ll be discharged tomorrow” Maria eases your nerves. 

Of course, for her it’s easy to say it’s no big deal. Agents are shot, blown up, killed in the field. A little scratch is nothing, especially for Natasha. But you take a deep breath, leaving the Medbay in a rush.

As you lock yourself in the Avenger’s Lab, you make F.R.I.D.A.Y. a simple request.

“Show me the mission’s footage”

—

Natasha’s had worst, truly. But still, her head is throbbing when she wakes up. The doctor discharges her with the instruction to rest for a week. No training either.

The Russian notices a bag with clothes on the chair next to her bed. She finds your Harvard sweatshirt, which puts a tiny smile on her face.

You are nowhere to be found in the Compound when she returns, so she goes to her room to take another nap, the painkillers making her sleepy.

By the time Natasha wakes up to get something to eat, F.R.I.D.A.Y. requests her presence in the lab.

“What is it?” she says, surprised to find you working on a tablet. It looks like you haven’t slept in the last 24 hours, five or six cups of coffee around the various tables in the lab.

“I created a new technology for your suit” you jump right to it. “It has motion sensors that are triggered by incoming threats. That way, if someone tries to sneak up on you, you can either get an alert or program a defense mechanism that can be shot from any part of the suit” 

Natasha takes the tablet, running the simulation. She’s impressed with the level of detail you’ve placed on this and on such short time. She’s about to thank you, but you’re already asleep in the couch of the lab, clearly exhausted from all the work you’ve done.

The sight of your sleeping form makes Natasha’s heart flutter.

—

Movie night is the one tradition you’ve always been on board with. Coincidentally, it’s Natasha’s least favorite. Depending on her mood, she’ll join everyone on the living room, or talk you into watching something else in your room or hers.

Tonight, she stops by once the movie has already started. As usual, you’re on the couch in the far back of the room, your glasses reflecting the screen as you eat some popcorn.

“Hey” Natasha leans over the back of the couch and whispers against your ear, making you jump. Your eyes follow her as she jumps over to plop down next to you.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that with a hole on your side, Natasha” you reprimand. 

“It’s fine” she lies, grabbing some popcorn.

As the movie keeps going, the woman inches closer to you. At first you think she’s settling in her seat, but then her hand spreads on the back of the couch, dangerously close to your neck.

It’s fine. You can handle it.

Nope, you absolutely can’t. Not when you feel Natasha’s nimble fingers playing with the hairs on the back of your neck, her digits alternating between caressing the skin and scratching your scalp.

“You’re hot” she whispers at some point and you turn to look at her, dazed.

“Huh?”

“You feel hot” she clarifies a second later, her eyes looking at your lips. “Is everything ok? Those powers of yours are acting up”

“I’m fine” you nod, looking back at the screen. Aware that you are in fact increasing the temperature in the room, you take a breath and close your eyes, before anyone else notices.

You’re almost back to normal when Natasha stretches and lies across your lap, her left hand squeezing your thigh as the other one begins to trace patterns in your skin.

All while she's wearing your Harvard sweatshirt.

Your only thought is to take it off, along with the rest of her clothes and kiss every inch of her body.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., is the thermostat broken…?” Tony finally snaps, annoyed at the sudden changes in temperature. “Never mind” 

Everyone follows his eyes as he looks to the back of the room, where Natasha is playing dumb while riling you up.

“Can you two find a room to turn into a sauna and spare the rest of us?” Tony says, which makes your eyes widen, and the room practically turns into a freezer. “Great, now we’re all turning into popsicles. Cap, you’re familiar with the feeling, right?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Tony” Natasha finally stands up, showing you some mercy. “Come on, detka” 

“Uh, ok” you say, your voice barely a whisper as you allow the woman to drag you back to her room.

As soon as the door is shut, she pushes you against it.

“So, tell me” she says with a playful smile. “How hot do you think it will get here?”

You can only shake your head, speechless. Natasha smiles, kissing you softly. All thoughts leave your head, opening your mouth to give her access. You’ll do anything she asks, anything at all.

“I see” she smiles when the room gets hot. “Good thing we won’t have our clothes on” 

It’s the best sex of your life.

So much so, the fire alarm goes off in the entire Compound.

“Fucking worth it” you sigh as you’re both naked in bed, the water from the sprinklers evaporating from all the heat in the room.

[leechqnsgirl]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ot9!andteam: comforting you when you're stressed out

notes: based off of this ask

andteam x fem!reader | wc: 3.2k | comfort, fluff | masterlist

warnings: language, kissing, reader cries, taki almost cries, yuma's teasing takes a wrong turn :( , harua's and taki's is like a reverse of this whole plot lmfaoo,

****

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ KOGA YUDAI

kei hadn't seen you in what felt like days.

the last time he spoke with you, you were venting about the amount of upcomings exams and assignments you had. and so, he tried his best to be there for you.

but...he didn't want to be too overbearing. so he also tried his best to give you space.

and with him, himself, getting caught up with work he wasn't able to speak to you.

a few short messages being sent here and there, a small phone call too. but that was it.

so when kei pulled up to your front door, your favorite snacks were in a bag.

he didn't expect for you to open the door and look so...

miserable.

"baby?" was the first word he spoke to you.

and just the sight of him was enough to make your eyes well up with tears.

you pulled him into your house, he kicked the door closed behind him and felt your arms warp around him.

he dropped the bag of snacks, wrapping his own arms around you.

he swayed the two of you for a bit, one hand placed on the top of your head.

"come on, you wanna go relax? watch a movie or take a nap." he spoke to you so softly, your eyes unmoving from his own.

"yeah." you sniffled, holding now one of his hands as you two went to your couch. 

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ MURATA FUMA

you think you might just have the most understanding boyfriend ever.

but you also think you might just be the worst girlfriend ever.

you've been canceling a lot on fuma lately, but it isn't your fault entirely. finals season is in action and your teachers have been throwing tests and assignments and essays at you left and right.

the second you finish one, you have another to do. and so you've been postponing and cancling a lot of data plans you two came up with.

today was too much. you took a huge test at school and couldn't even breathe when you got home. your apartment was a mess, your work unfinished and on top of all this. you just got a text from your boyfriend.

poké nerd 🫶: hey baby, the screening for the movie's gonna start soon, are you ready?

fuck.

you completely forgot. again.

you were about to shoot him a text when you heard some knocks on your door. walking over to open it, you already knew who it was.

"ready?" he asked as he stepped in, standing by the front door.

your heart burned. you wanted to throw all your responsibilities out the window just for one day with your boyfriend.

you shook your head. "im sorry, baby, i completely forgot. and i'm really busy. but my semesters almost over, i promise."

you heard a sigh from him. "no." you stepped back in shock. literally.

"what?" he walked over, closer to you now. "you're gonna come out with me, okay? you're gonna come out and we'll have fun and when we get back," he placed a kiss on your forehead. "we can have a study date. I'll help you with your work. guaranteed 100%."

"I-I don't know..." he rolled his eyes playfully, "i do know. and plus, i was a straight A student." he held your face in his hands. "you need a break, y/n. i hate seeing you like this and feeling useless. you can cancel a million times on me and i won't be upset."

he pressed his forehead against yours. "so please. just relax. just for today. you won't regret it, i promise." he smiled, looking into your eyes.

"i love you, honey. so come on, go get dressed." you nodded your head. "i love you too." 

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ WANG YIXIANG

you were locked in your room all day.

you weren't even eating well or anything, in your mind you didn't have that kind of time to sacrifice.

and your boyfriend was on the other side of your wall, debating with himself on whether he should give you space or go to you.

and just when he was about to knock on your door, see if you were hungry or wanted a break, he heard you shakily sigh. a curse following right after.

he finally went in, seeing you with your back hunched over your desk and your palms pressing into your eyes.

"y/n?" your throat felt so dry at the sound of his voice, "y/n, babe, are you okay..?" you turned around in your chair, your eyes red. and if that was from the tears gathering in them or the lack of sleep, you didn't know.

you shook your head, "god, nicho, I just have so much. and I feel like I'm not even close to finishing." you said, your voice cracked at the last word.

wordlessly, he walked over to you, grabbing you by your forearm to stand up in front of him. and he wrapped his arms around you, placing one on the back of your head as he felt your arms go around him.

he could feel the wet tears hitting his shoulder, his heart breaking at it. your occasional shaky breaths did nothing but hurt him more.

"I know, baby. but I want you to know I'm right here, I'm always gonna be right here if you ever wanna talk or take a break." he pulls away from you for a second, looking into your eyes as he places one of his hands on your cheek, cradling your face. "don't let your work kill you. it's not worth ruining yourself over. and we can find you a tutor if you want, hm?"

you wiped your eyes, sniffling. "o-okay."

he smiles at you, not one of joy or sadness. just one full of love.

"I love you, y/n. you're the strongest person I know." he pressed a kiss to your nose, teasing you.

you laughed softly. "thank you, nicho." you leaned in to press your own lips against his. "I love you too." 

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ BYUN EUIJOO

euijoo had offered to help you study with a class that you were struggling with. and so, in desperation, you agreed.

the two of you were sitting doing the same kind of problems for the past forty minutes. every single time you thought you finally understood, ej would point out something that you missed.

you were getting sick of it all. you felt so stupid in front of him. getting it wrong every time while he just breezed through it.

and now, once again, you got another practice problem wrong.

you huffed out, dropping your pencil on the table.

"I can't keep doing this, euijoo. this is ridiculous." he shook his head at your words.

"you're getting better, sweetheart. really. you just need a bit more practice." you rolled your eyes. "no, euijoo. i'm just gonna take the F at this point."

he reached a hand over to the table, grabbing yours. "one more. please? and if you still don't get it we'll take a break and get back to it another day." you sighed, nodding your head.

and so after he pointed out your last mistake, and you corrected it he gave you the last question.

you slid your paper over to him, waiting to hear a so close, you just missed one thing. but instead, you heard something different.

"you got it!" your eyes widened, "what?" he smiled at you as he nodded his head. "see I told you, I knew you could do it." he pulled your chair closer to his, pulling you for a hug.

you smiled back, still in disbelief.

"thank you, baby. thank you so much." he blushed at your words, shrugging his shoulders, "it was all you, honey."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ NAKAKITA YUMA

you were cooped up in your room all day. yuma felt like he hadn't seen you in ages, and so of course he wanted to go and bother you.

yuma thought you were probably just tired. he had no idea that you were doing piles of homework and studying. especially considering how, as soon as he arrived at the apartment, you simply greeted him and said, "I'll be out soon, don't come in."

it's only been two hours since then.

without even knocking, he walks into the room, finding you on your bed sat against the headboard with your laptop in your lap.

"wow, y/n. ditching me for some youtube?" he teased, walking over to where you were and pushed your laptop screen shut.

"yuma!" you yelled out, swatting his hand away. "yuma, I swear to god if my work wasn't saved I'm gonna kill you." yuma furrowed his eyebrows. "you were doing homework?"

you opened your laptop, seeing that it did an automatic restart.

"yuma, what the hell is wrong with you? I've been working on that all day!" yuma's hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. "m-maybe it's not gone!"

you breathed out heavily through your nose. "Yuma, just go outside. I told you I'll be out when I'm done." he nodded his head, avoiding your eyes. "I'm sorry.." he whispered, quiet enough that had missed it.

it was an hour and a half later when you came out of your room, going to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

you were just about to tell your boyfriend that you finished when you saw him asleep on the couch with a bakery box of sweets from your favorite bakery.

now you feel like shit. you yelled at him, kicked him out and never apologized even when he's been waiting for you all day.

you quietly walked over to where yuma was lying asleep on the couch.

"yuma..." you tapped his shoulder. "yuma," you brought a hand up to brush the hairs away from his face.

"mmm." he groaned, opening his eyes to see you.

you swallowed. "yuma, I'm so sorry." you pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I shouldn't have been so mean to you. I was just stressed out with school work and-" he brought his bigger hand over to lay on yours. "'s okay," he said, voice a bit heavy. "It's my fault, really."

"I should've known you were doing homework and not have messed with you." his cheeks were dusted a pretty shade of pink.

before you could speak another word, he sat up. "I was waiting for you to finish so we can chill out. y'know get your mind off the work."

you nodded your head, "I'd love that." 

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ASAKURA JO

you were taking night classes, your least favorite.

you got home late, didn't have much time to clean up or eat or even do your work. and you just wanted the ground to swallow you up as your professor went on and on about the subject.

now, technically, you can just get up and leave. but, you didn't pay for this semester for nothing.

you were dozing off a bit in class when you got a text from your boyfriend.

white rice 😋🤍: I'm gonna pick you up after class today, so see you soon! love you.

you couldn't help but smile at your phone, glad that after a two hour lecture, the first thing you'd see was jo.

you: okayy, love you too!! <33

and now finally, you were done.

you walked outside and saw your boyfriend sitting on a bench.

you walked up to behind him, placing your arms around his shoulders as you press a kiss right on his head.

"honey?" he asked, confusion in his voice. "mm, no. I'm a random woman kissing another girls boyfriend." you teased.

even under the campus lights, you could see your boyfriend's ears turn a light shade of pink.

he cleared his throat, "so, i-i know how you're probably tired right now and stuff...but um, I thought it'd be nice to go on a night walk together. clear our minds, you know?" your heart literally melted on the spot.

your knees? jelly.

all because of your adorable boyfriend.

you nodded your head, giving a kiss on the lips this time.

"of course, I'd love that, baby." you linked your hand with his. "thank you, for always thinking of me."

he tried his best to hide his smile. "its natural for me, y/n. almost like breathing."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ SHIGETA HARUA

what are the odds that you missed your boyfriend's arrival back in japan.

you had promised to meet him at their dorm, you planned a huge surprise and everything.

only for it all to go down the drain.

you forgot.

you were so caught up with your own work and constant studying that you didn't even realize the date came closer than expected.

you were stuck in your room after school. doing your best to finish up as much as you can.

so when you suddenly got a text from taki, you were confused.

taki 🐣: yo, are you gonna be here soon? your bfs acting weird.

you: ??? i cant just spawn in korea

taki 🐣: we landed back here like four hours ago...

with wide eyes, you quickly pulled up the date on your phone.

fuck.

harua did just land.

you rushed out of your room, making sure you look at least put together and threw your shoes on.

you rushed to a nearby cafe that you and harua loved, getting his favorite.

knock knock.

you'd made it over to their dorm about twenty minutes after taki texted you.

nicholas was the one that opened the door for you, offering you a small smile and stepped to the side for you to walk in.

you didn't even need to ask, you knew where harua would be.

you knocked on the door gently before entering his room, pushing the door to see him lying down. back facing you.

you walked over to him, kneeling on the floor beside the bed as you put a hand in his hair. "rua...?" you called out for him hesitantly.

you heard him let out a breath through his nose, turning over as he faced you.

with a strained smile, you grabbed his hand. "harua, I'm so sorry, honey." you brought his hand up to your lips, "I lost track of time, I didn't mean to." he shakes his head, sitting up now. "i-i get it, but I still wish you were the first face I saw.."

that just made you feel like the biggest jerk in the whole world.

you couldn't hold it anymore, you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.

"never again. okay?" he nods his head, "never again." he mirrors your words.

"what do you say, you wanna go to my place and relax?" finally, he smiled. "I'd love that." 

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ TAKAYAMA RIKI

you had put your phone on silent.

telling yourself you were going to completely put your focus on studying.

you went into your room and left your phone in the kitchen.

now, your boyfriend didn't know this.

he didn't know you had lots of work and he didn't know you put your phone on do not disturb.

for past few days, you and taki had exchanged small texts and check-ins with each other. phone calls barely go on for more than twenty minutes.

the last time he saw you was when you two went on a date. and he thought it went well.

so to not hear from you properly was worrying him.

were you mad at him? did he do something? did you hear something about him?

everything bad was going through his mind.

he decided today he was going to make it up to you. he couldn't take not seeing you anymore.

you were his person. his love.

he bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers and made his way to your house.

it took a few knocks from him for you to finally open the door.

he was freaking out on the inside, his entire plan going out the window as soon as he saw your face.

"taki?" he cleared his throat, swallowing a lump he didn't even know was there.

"y/n, I'm really sorry." he extended his hands out, giving you the flowers. "I d-don't really know what happened but i'll make it up to you. I really hate it when we don't talk."

his voice got quieter at the end as he blinked rapidly.

he didn't even know why he started tearing up, he just did.

your heart ached for him. did you make him think he did something wrong?

you took the flowers from him, placing them down on the cabinet you had near the front door.

you shook your head, "no, baby." you pulled him into your arms, "you didn't do anything, I know you wouldn't even do anything to me." he tucked his head into your shoulder as he sniffled, nodding his head.

"I thought you were upset with me." you softly laughed at his statement. not to make fun of him, but out of his adorableness.

"never. I just had so much to do." he lifted his head, "why weren't you answering my texts and calls?"

okay, now it all made sense.

"I'm so sorry. I should've told you. I just left my phone on silent so I didn't get distracted."

he nodded his head, his expression suddenly becoming shy.

"I just feel like a kid now." he laughs at himself. "can't believe I got upset over that." you cooed at him, he was just too cute.

"no! noo, it's fine. I would've done the same. if anything I would've been more dramatic."

he grabs your hands in his, playing with your fingers.

"do you still have more work?" biting your lip, you nodded your head. "but you could stay with me. as long as you promise to not mess around."

he doesn't think he's ever nodded his head so fast. "and after, we could take a walk? if it's not too late.." he offered.

you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "that's sounds perfect. I'd love to clear my head after it all."

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ HIROTA RIKI

maki knew how stressed you'd been this past week.

and so, with his only free day he decided to do something for you.

you and maki are both big foodies, you guys are down to try any kind of food. to an extent, of course though.

he made sure you never left your room for the afternoon, getting started on the surprise lunch.

it was a bit tough, but he was determined to do it.

probably about an hour later, maki managed to drag you out of your room.

he sat you down at the dinner table and told you to close your eyes.

confused, you hesitantly lifted your hands up to cover your eyes.

you smelled the food before you saw it, your mouth watering at it all.

"okay! open."

you gasped when you saw the plate in front of you. "maki, you actually made this?" he nodded his head, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

"I know how stressed out you've been...so I wanted to take a few minutes to just sit down with you." you couldn't help the big smile that came onto your face.

you leaned over the table, giving maki a quick kiss on his lips.

you pick up your spoon and dig into the food, tasting it.

your eyes practically sparkled. "maki this is amazing!" he had a shy smile on his face, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm glad you like it, angel." 

[spookierdeer]

OL EUA YUGQ G XGOYOT OT MXGVK PAOIK, OZ ZAXTY OTZU G MXGVK. NGVVE NGRRUCKKT! 🎃⚠️

(costume talk and yapping under the cut)

starting from back to the front:

stan and ford are handing out candy this year, stan dressed in his vampire costume and planning to scare kids and ford is wearing a mabel (turtleneck!) pumpkin sweater, about as festive as he's willing to dress up this year. ford was originally planning to hole himself up in his lab and work on data analysis or whatever nerd shit he has going on but stan invites him to help scare the hell out of kids. ford declines initially, better things to do, but after checking to see how stan's doing (badly), ford decides to help by bursting out of the bushes with a glowing laser gun, face cloaked in shadow. it's more fun than he expects or admits and he eventually fully joins stan.

soos and melody are trick or treating in a couple costume, soos as zelda and melody as link. melody wanted to cosplay link for awhile and you cannot convince me soos wouldn't jump at the chance to dress up as a badass anime elf princess who can fire lasers.

mabel, pacifica, and waddles are dressed as utena, anthy, and chu chu respectively. i have a headcanon that post working at the diner and slowly getting used to normal kid things, pacifica discovers anime. specifically shojo princess anime. she finds utena and loses her mind over it in private, with mabel eventually breaking down her walls and getting her to admit to the sin of liking anime. mabel gets pacifica to show her her favorites and mabel immediately insists they need to cosplay as utena and anthy for halloween, pacifica is a princess after all! (said in jest, but baby gay panic ensues on pacifica's end. mabel is pretty oblivious to her plight and doesn't realize why being pacifica's knight makes her feel so giddy until later on.)

dipper sees pacifica joining mabel as an excuse to flake out on trick or treating without being a total jerk, especially since they'll be joined by candy and grenda later. i know he's working on not trying to grow up too fast by the end of the series, but kids and teens are full of anxiety and doubts and i figure he would be pretty awkward about a lot of things still, even after learning otherwise. wirt doesn't want to dress up since the previous halloween ended with him in the unknown then waking up in the hospital, but greg still wants to go trick or treating. dipper tags along to help babysit greg despite it not really being necessary, wirt's just glad to have someone to chat with while he takes greg, especially someone who doesn't leap to finding him strange. greg is going as a ghost elephant and wirt assumes it's just the weird kid tradition of layering costumes over the years, but greg's logic is that he "died" as an elephant last year so now the elephant is a ghost. if wirt heard this he would probably end up freaked out, but kids are often more aware of things than expected. dipper is wearing wendy's hat since she traded with him at the end of the series.

putting wirt and greg in there could feel a little random, but these are my two favorite shows to watch during autumn and i associate them with each other. plus, it's otgw's ten year anniversary and it's so perfectly halloween, i think it makes enough sense to put them together. idk i love joy and whimsy, i am cringe and i am free.

i initally wanted to include other characters, candy, grenda, and wendy for sure but i was also considering coraline, wybie, and norman. felt way too complicated so maybe i'll draw something with those characters some other time.

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Me Gustas Tu/ I Like You

A/n: This could be seen as a part 2 to And If You Think I’m in Love With You, but this can also be seen as a stand-alone fic. I was just writing, so I didn't really revise it. Sorry if anything doesn't make sense.

Song Inspo: Me Gustas Tu by Manu Chao

Word Count: 1347

.

.

.

What time is it, my heart?

It wouldn’t matter if he spent the entire day with you- moments with you felt fleeting. He doesn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times he’d lose track of time with you. Even now, sitting outside with you, he’d only realize the day had gone by when the moon decided to watch over the two of you.

“You know, if I were with anyone else, my parents would be calling my phone like crazy.” You're leaning back on your forearms, watching the stars, your phone lying beside you. Senku glances at your phone- it was true. There were no missed messages or calls, but the time stares back at him. It was taunting him- he knows his time with you is running out.

12:00 am

“But they trust you.”

“Do you?”  He likes the fact that your parents trust him - it was praise and approval he didn’t know he needed, it made his heartbeat faster. But what mattered to him the most was that you trusted him.

“Is Doreamon a super-sized gizmo-ized, gadget cat from the future?” you answer his question with a question of your own. A question that he knows the answer to is yes.

“You’re such a geek.” He jokes with you, letting small laughter escape from his lips. He lies beside you, his mind noting the small space between the two of you. It wasn’t abnormal - he’s laid beside you countless times, even held you, but it’s something his body can’t get accustomed to.

“Well, you’re the biggest nerd I know.” You joke back. You shift yourself so you're leaning on your side, and instead of the stars, you decide to watch him.

There’s a pause of silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence that Senku would typically try to fill with science facts. It was a silence that was only ever comforting with you. It’s those rare moments when he can feel his mind slow and rest from constant thinking. He allows himself to get lost in the stars with you, taking in the sounds of crickets and the occasional noises from the bustling city.

“Senku, what do you like?”

It’s an innocent question at first glance, but his mind can’t help but overthink. What is the answer that you’re wanting? The one you’ve been waiting for.

Is it the same answer that is clouding his mind? Or is it the answer that is always ready? Is the answer you're wanting the one that leaves his lips without hesitation?  

“I like Science,” he says it with ease. He turns his body to look back at you, his eyes roam your face, attentive for your reaction- he needs all the data to give you the answer you’re wanting.

I like you

“I like numbers,” he blurts. He meant to say mathematics, but the way you’re looking at him—the way your eyes soften at him—makes him feel your yearning, causes his vast vocabulary to diminish to the basics.

I like you

“I like Doraemon.” You smile at that, and he notices the way you try to hold your laughter.

I like you

“I like mecha,”

-

He doesn’t understand why, but his mind is repeating the phrase he’s been afraid to say—something that took him a while to recognize. You’ve been plaguing his thoughts, like a parasite. It’s as if you were trying to feed off his mind- his thoughts began to consist of you whenever you’re not around, more now than ever since the day you brought up the rumor you overheard.

Once he became aware of the sensations he felt when he was around you, he began to document them as symptoms. 

At first, it was when he noticed he stumbled, stuttered, and fumbled with his words with you. Eventually, it was when he noted how his body reacted to you. His palms were clammy, with sweat sticking to them despite his repeated attempts to rub it off on his pants, accompanied by a sudden feeling of hot flashes. Then it was the alerts on his watch, alerting him that his heart rate was high, reaching levels abnormal for him.

Breathing around you was strange. It felt like, at times, his breathing would get caught, like he choked on air. At other times, it felt like he forgot to breathe altogether. Add in the abnormal heart rate, clammy hands, and the rising body heat- he felt like he was going to die.

“I think it’s cardiogenic shock, maybe even a heart attack.” Senku’s mentally cursing his addiction to caffeinated drinks.

He tells Byakuya over the phone about his symptoms, and all he gets over the phone is Byakuya's loud laughter. It feels like minutes waiting for him to calm down, and when he does, he wishes he didn’t. He got an answer, but it wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.

“Senku, it sounds to me like you’re in love.”

What am I going to do?

 I don’t know

-

“I know all of that already. What else?” You’re giggling at him, and he doesn’t know why. He wishes he could read your mind. Maybe then he would be able to say what he’s been trying to bury in the back of his mind.  

I like you

“I like space,” another obvious answer, one you already know.

I like you

“I like the night.” his hand is reaching for yours, and you follow. You allow him to intertwine your fingers with his. “Especially when I’m with you.”

I like you

“I like the moon,” his eyes don’t stray from yours as he lifts himself, inching closer to you. “I like it when moonlight falls on you.”

I like you

“I like the stars.” He pushes you onto your back and hovers over you, waiting for any signs that this isn’t the answer you’ve been seeking. He doesn’t see any. All he sees are his symptoms, the ones he’s been documenting- he sees them in you. “I can see them in your eyes.”

It’s cheesy, a tad cliché, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about now is answering you. He’s leaning down, getting closer to you. He can hear you, your breathing is hitching, the same way you’ve done to him unknowingly, and with ease. He can feel your body heat radiating to him - he can see the heat flush to your face, and he wonders if your heart is pounding out of your chest.

He presses his ear against your chest, listening to the rhythm of your heart. He wasn’t a doctor, but he could hear it speed up, reaching the same rate you had caused countless times to him.

“I like the sound of your heart.”

When he first documented his trouble breathing around you, he thought he was allergic to something you were wearing. But now, when he’s pressed against you, his nose burrowed into your neck, smelling your skin and hair, he knows he’s not.

“I like how you smell.”

His eyes flicker between yours and your lips —his silent way of asking. It’s as if you both share the same wavelength, knowing what he’s asking, seeking permission before he acts. You bite your lips as you nod your head. He can feel your fingers cup the back of his head, pulling him closer to you until he can feel your lips press against him. He’s moving his lips against yours, copying the movement he’s seen in movies. He doesn’t try to take the lead- he follows your movements. Slow and unsure. Innocent and filled with years of yearning.

“I like the way you taste.”

What time is it, my heart?

4 am

Moments with you felt fleeting. He’s never going to be able to keep track of time when he’s with you. There aren’t enough hours in the day- he needs more. Even an eternity with you wouldn’t be enough for him. Especially now that he’s honest with himself, honest with you.

“I like you.”

[ablobwhowrites]

Still in my transformers brain rot and thinking about transformers but with a y/n cybertronian researcher who loves to learn about new species and gets so happy about learning about humans cause they/he never saw one before and wants to know every single detail of human history and humans today. Bro gets over excited when they/he finds out about dinosaurs existed in the planet but doesn't know they are extinct (y/n got to excited and wanted to find one but ends up finding out they are now just fossils. But doesn't stop bro from documenting it in their/his data pad) plus I like to think you love to yap about certain topics they have documented in the past (they/he has been yapping about a the different kind of astroids for 10 hours now) and think of them/him being a absolutely nerd about new things to learn to the point bro is taking in to much knowledge for anyone to know.

Plus Im working on some dandys world stuff and some other things I'm working on and going to release soon so look out for that and plus I'm still doing yandere transformers cause I still love transformers.

(also I'm thinking about just not doing the m/n name for fics and change it to male y/n so it's more convenient and maybe more helpful for me to write but I don't know. I might do it for the next fic, shitpost or head canon stuff so yeah but let me know your opinion on it but that's all. Also hope you like the new y/n cause they/he is very silly but anyways see y'all later and stay healthy.)

[anon-sect]

Picture source: @blueravenwolf

Drey had the worst luck in one class. Unfortunately, it was one he needed to pass, or he could be kicked off the football team. It would look embarrassing if the star football player was removed because of one class he couldn't pass. Feeling desperate, he decided to ask the smartest student he knew on campus for help.

Sam looked up to see a shadow over him as he was reading a sci-fi novel. He looked up to see the star football player Drey. Drey would sometimes tease him for his smaller body and smarts, all of which would annoy him. "What do you want now?" He asked, not in the mood for child like teasing.

"I need your help. I need to pass this one class, or I will get kicked off the team. Will you help me?" Drey asked desperately.

Sam was shocked at this turn of events. "Why should I? What is in it for me?" He wasn't interested in helping the football jock who often teased him.

Drey needed to convince him to help him pass this class. "I know we don't know each other that well, but I do know you could help me greatly. So if you help me, I will owe you one, okay?" He offered Sam, hoping he would take the offer presented.

Sam thought about it. "Okay, I will help you. You have to keep your word, though. I promise, breaking your word would have consequences." He added. Drey shook his hand in agreement and left.

A couple of months later, Drey got his grades. He had passed and was in no danger of being kicked off the team. He felt relieved. He saw Sam approaching. "Thanks for your help. My position is safe on the team."

"Great, now we can talk about how you can pay me back." Sam spoke up. He had not forgotten the deal that was made.

"Yeah, about that. I kind of said that to convince you to help me. I honestly didn't mean it." Drey paused. "I was hoping that you might have forgotten about it since I haven't brought it up." He added.

Sam didn't like that after he took time out of his life to help the football jock who liked to tease him a lot. "I see. So, you have no intentions of keeping the deal?" He asked.

"What do you think, gay nerd boy?" Drey was tired of the conversation. He got what he needed and didn't need him anymore.

"I see. So, you used me and is done? Is that it?" He wanted to be entirely sure before proceeding to what he was thinking.

"That is what gay nerds are for," Drey laughed. "Now go away before I have you under my shoes as a footrest."

That gave Sam the perfect idea. He took out his phone and opened up his TF Pro Max app. He put in the settings for a pair of black socks. He hit the flash option. Instantly, Drey was replaced with a pair of thick black socks on the chair. He quickly grabbed them and stuffed them in his pocket, and he went back to his dorm room.

Drey saw the flash and lost consciousness. He woke up later feeling something inhabiting the inside of his body. His body felt hollowed out. He could hear the sound of a TV in the background. He then felt something wiggling inside him. He knew exactly what it was a moment later. It was toes. He felt disgusted when he realized what he had become. He was a pair of socks. He tried any motion possible. The only thing he could do was slight vibrations.

Sam felt vibrations coming from his socks. "Oh, you are awake now, Drey. If you haven't figured out already, I turned you into a pair of socks on my feet. You actually gave me the idea. By the way, this is permanent. I deleted the revert data about thirty minutes ago. You belong to my gay feet now." He laughed while wiggling his toes in his new favorite socks.

Drey vibrated angrily on his owner's feet. He was highly upset. He didn't want this to be his permanent life, especially on a gay college student's feet. He wanted his old life back as the star football player. How could the gay nerd have done this to him, a straight jock.

"I don't know if you are upset or happy down there since socks can't talk." Sam paused and laughed again. "Either way, I can't change you back to normal now. You are stuck this way forever. But I did add some durability to you. You should last on my feet for at least thirty years without damage. Enjoy your new life, socks." He laughed again while focusing on what he was watching on TV.

Drey regretted asking Sam for help now. If he knew the nerd would do this to him, he would have asked someone else. He was powerless on his feet. All of his senses were on hyper sensitivity, from taste to feel. The smell of Sam's feet was strong with no escape from it. It was like both feet were in his mouth. He could taste all of it. This was a complete nightmare. He was the straight alpha jock who was the property of one of the gay nerds. He could only regret not keeping his word like he was supposed to.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH to everyone

[thediaryofaurora]

It’s ok if you can’t but I would love for the next headcanons for creepypasta character could you do X-Virus.

General HCs

X-Virus/Cody Anderson

Sorry this one is sooooo long. I have so much to say about this nerd.

- Seventeen! Barely older than Toby.

- Roughly 6’0, maybe a little over. He isn’t very toned, since he really just sits in the lab all day.

- White with mostly Welsh heritage.

- He was in foster case from about seven to thirteen. His mom was neglectful and a drug addict so child services inevitably took him away. He was adopted by a pathologist who created and spread chronic diseases that only he knew how to treat, which he profited from since he was the only person who knew how to cure them.

- His foster father had used Cody as an assistant and made sure he knew his way around the lab. They would often test the diseases on animals first and see if the cure worked just enough so that people would continuously come back for medication rather than completely healing. At around fifteen Cody was trusted to be in the lab alone, so he would take the time to test more fatal things on the test subjects. A few years later when he was about seventeen, he was a little too desensitized to fatal infections and death. He thought seeing how animals reacted to his creations weren’t enough to prove the data he wanted.

- With that, he went into one of his lonesome neighbor’s homes in the dead of night and tested one of his viruses on him. He had planned to return home and brush it off, but Slender thought he was too valuable to let him go.

- This dude is a GENIUS, and a massive nerd. Most of the residents overlook it since he’s just a dumb teenager who works in the infirmary, but he’s extremely intelligent. He spends all of his days studying and analyzing data, so it’s kind of a given.

- Mainly gets along with Toby, EJ, and surprisingly Helen.

- Since him and Toby are extremely close in age, they naturally hovered to each other when they first met. They aren’t necessarily similar, but they do have a brotherly connection.

- Him and EJ work together in the infirmary/ lab, so they have to communicate and at least slightly get along. Jack almost sees him as an annoying little sibling, but it’s a nice presence. Cody really looks up to him and that means a lot.

- Helen stops by on occasion to talk to Jack and over time he started talking to Cody. They’re strangely compatible given their age difference and personalities, but Helen’s a listener and Cody can’t help but ramble. Helen does botany in his free time, so he’ll bring by plants for him to study or incorporate into his excitements. Cody always makes sure to track Helen down and give him all the results and notes he took of whatever plant he had brought.

- Germaphobe. His hands are DRY from over washing and using so much hand sanitizer.

- He has a bunch of rodents and other test animals for his experiments. He’s made sure to tell Nina if she ever doesn’t want her guinea pigs anymore he’d be glad to take them.

- Strangely smells like a dentist’s office. With all the chemicals, hand sanitizer, and air fresheners in the lab he’s bound to.

- Allergic to dogs, and cats, and everything ever.

- He’s a pretty big recluse. A perfect day in his eyes is sitting alone in the lab and testing a bunch of random shit, which sounds pretty boring to anyone he tells that to.

- Cyber punk enthusiast to the absolute core. You can’t look at him and think otherwise.

- He rarely goes on missions. Usually he’s stationed in the lab to either cover for EJ or do whatever the hell he wants. In the occasion that he does get sent out, him and Jack make a great pair. Since EJ can sense pretty much anything and everything, all Cody needs is the go ahead to take the kill.

- Straight, but he doesn’t really think about intimate relationships very often. If he’s watching a movie with romance in it he might think on it for a little, but he prioritizes his work over anything. If he had to date someone in the mansion, it would probably be Nina. She’s as hyper as him and doesn’t know anything about science, so she gladly listens to whatever he’s working on. However, in realistic terms he wouldn’t date her.

- He likes musicals, I specifically mention this because Repo! The Genetic Opera reminds me of him and he would absolutely love that movie.

- Listens to a surprising amount of goth music. He thinks it’s the only music that makes him feel more productive, so he puts in his wired headphones and works while listening to it. Massive Siouxsie and the Banshees fan.

- His room is PRISTINE. Absolutely no decorations, just scattered files and white bedding. Since he’s such a germaphobe he tries to keep his room as clean as possible, even if he’s not in it very much. He thrives on energy drinks and the most sleep he gets is a nap, usually in the lab with his head down on his desk.

- HORRIBLE handwriting, definitely adds up with him being somewhat of a doctor. Pretty much only him and Helen can (almost) decipher it.

- He gets soooo giddy when referred to as Dr. Anderson. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does he’s ecstatic, especially because that’s what his foster father went by.

- Wears a lab coat and goggles on the regular. It’s not always necessary, but he feels so accomplished when he does. Occasionally wears scrubs.

- He’s been one of my favorites for like five years.

Thank you for reading! Feedback and requests are welcome.

✧✬✧✬✧✬✧✬✧✬✧✬✧

[mortalfaerie]

hi here's my take on the gravity falls kids grown up since they're 25 now

Mason "Dipper" Pines

after wierdmaggedan and disposing of the journals, he still has a keen interest in mysteries, just not necessarily of a supernatural nature. he's aware of the supernatural that's all around them, but content to let it rest.

he gets really into history and archeology, and bonds more with ford about this - even though ford is a physicist, he appreciates dipper's enthusiasm

he's trans (i'll die on this hill) and continues to socially transition in high school, and starts testosterone around 16.

he also starts going more by his chosen name (mason, choosing one that starts similarly to mabel) but still lets close friends and family call him dipper. he stops covering his birthmark, though he still likes hats

he's suspicious of mabel's new friendship with pacifica in high school, but he warms up to pacifica ("paz," as they end up calling her) over time. he realizes they have a lot in common and she's actually a lot of help on his mystery hunting

paz's blooming interest in political science lends itself very much to his interest in history, and they spend lots of hours as teen up late on the phone together (seemingly everyone but them can see the writing on the wall, but it takes a few more years for them to realize their feelings)

he continues to be a massive nerd, and has at least one dd&md podcast he religiously listens to. he and mabel go to conventions in california together.

his favorite place remains gravity falls over the years, and he goes back at least once each summer.

he and pacifica both commit to UCLA and become closer there. he majors in archeology & anthropology. despite their very different social circles, they seek each other out. she has at least one twat boyfriend in freshman year that dipper confronts on her behalf (even though she didn't want him to)

he and paz almost kiss at his going away party for a semester abroad in greece, but he panics and runs off, leaving her confused and hurt. it takes a while for them to regain their footing, but they end up hooking up the night he comes back from greece. due to a comedy of errors they don't end up *going all the way* that night, and it's not until they're at the pool a week later that she realizes he's trans when she sees his top surgery scars (thanks rockslide @ ao3)

he was 99% sure she knew so it's a surprise moment for him, and he worries she won't be interested now, but she's pretty non-plussed. they start dating that summer.

her parents disapprove and she ends up putting her foot down and cutting them off for how they treat him, and his family ends up practically adopting her. they are each other's biggest supporters in everything.

he gets offered a spot in a phd program in london, which stresses him out until he finds out that paz applied for a posting at the us embassy in london and got it, so they move to england together

he studies pre-modern civilizations and religious rites (a la stonehenge, etc) and has just finished his coursework and moved from phd student to candidate. he's just started to write his dissertation on potentially matriarchal societies in pre-modern britain using burial site data from major burial sites of religious significance.

he and paz have a cat name tyrone, or ty. they've been together for almost four years now, and he's thinking about popping the question - they're young (25), but he's pretty certain that for him, it's always going to be paz.

[resurgentclass-stardestroyer]

Soooo I've been obsessed with the image in this post since I first saw it, and decided to hunt down the source [Star Wars Character Encyclopedia: Updated and Expanded (2016 Edition)]. Here's Mitaka's page, and a close-up of that image; unfortunately it's tiny!

Feel free to use, edit etc.

Update: here's the best digital version of that image that I can find, slightly edited [maybe I'll clean it up someday..]:

Additional notes and transcript below:

[Google lists Mitaka's actor Sebastian Armesto at 5'8" and the fact that they added 3" to him makes me giggle. Let him be a little short!]

The fact that Mitaka's homeworld is listed as 'Uknown' is interesting to me. I wonder it's something thought out by the writers, or just hand-waving [guy didn't even have a name in the movie credits, iirc]. I've long hced that Mitaka was born on a starship to Imperial parents - but it's also possible that Mitaka was taken into the FO at a very young age and simply doesn't remember his home planet.

As most Mitaka enjoyers know, Mitaka graduated at the top of his class in the Academy. Despite being appearing terrified when facing Ren, he's evidently very, very good at his job. And, I know "Ren's unforgiving command style" is being tongue in cheek, but it does implicate a contrast to Hux's command style, which is apparently not-so unforgiving.

Something I see some get wrong — Mitaka is part of the FO Navy, not the Army. He's in charge of starships rather than ground forces, and he would make the ranks of Commander, Captain, and Admiral rather than Major, Colonel, and General.

So apparently Mitaka was indeed, under Hux, the one in command of not only recapturing Dameron and Finn, but also the retrieval missions on Jakku, and giving orders — which to me seems quite a step above the responsibilities of a mere Lieutenant and why I hc Mitaka as a Lieutenant Commander, but I digress. It makes sense then why it was specifically Mitaka who was designated to tell Ren about their failure to capture both the droid and the 'fugitives' — though it's also my hc [have lots of those] that Mitaka could have put this on an underling, but chose to face Ren and take the blame personally out of a sense of duty and honor, despite being terrified.

Editing note, because I'm a graphics nerd at heart: the half-tone dots in the close-up are predictably driving me bonkers, but from what I can tell, there's not much that can be done about it other than a time-consuming paint/smudge over, or messing with PS plug-ins [as far as I know -- I'm very new to scanning print]. I tried some descaling and blurring, but of course you can't do much of that without a loss of quality and clarity, and that's something I hate to sacrifice. I'll keep messing with it. Or, if someone has any idea of another source for this picture you would be my savior ! This is the only instance I can find of this image.

Transcript:

Lieutenant Mitaka First Order Officer

Data File Affiliation: First Order Homeworld: Unknown Species: Human Height: 1.8m (5ft 11in) Appearances: VII See Also: First Order TIE pilo; Finn; General Hux; Kylo Ren

Dopheld Mitaka is an attentive young officer serving aboard the First Order flagship Finalizer. A top graduate in his Academy class, Mitaka is not prepared for Kylo Ren's unforgiving command style.

The First Order naval uniform is descended from the sharp, authoritarian styles worn by officers of the Old Empire. The charcoal gray fabric signifies naval service, while the flared breeches and stiff boots help in maintaining a rigid posture. The command cap carries the starburst symbol of the First Order.

Tough Job After failing to recapture the escaped prisoner Poe Dameron and the deserter FN-2187, Mitaka continues to oversee the progress of search teams scouring the desert wastes of Jakku. Mitaka has the unenviable task of updating Kylo Ren on the search after the fugitives flee Jakku aboard the Millennium Falcon.

[Image Caption] Mitaka issues orders on behalf of General Hux to stop the escaping TIE fighter carrying Poe Dameron and FN-2187.

[exorcisemeplz]

Hi, since you have an ask option, I thought I might ask if you have any garnest headcanons? :)

Like I could see Gary being the one to start their relationship (maybe because he was bored & wanted to see if he could, for his own amusement you know?) only for him to be genuinely surprised at how territorial Earnest gets when he sees him flirt with someone else?

Sorry this was so random btw! I hope you don't mind!

I have been waiting for someone to ask this omg ily

_________________________

GARNEST

HEADCANONS

♡Gary Smith- The tyrant

Earnest Jones- The thinker♡

(In lore order, I will be doing general HC's later this evening)

__________________________________

Earnest was watching long before Gary noticed:

Earnest had been observing Gary from day one -- before Gary ever stepped foot in the Nerds’ domain. He knew Gary's class schedule, his fights, how he smiled right before saying something cruel.

He didn't even see it as stalking -- it was “gathering data.”

He watched from vents, through library stacks, and via hidden cameras he rigged around the school. Gary never noticed -- and Earnest liked it that way.

_______________________________________________

He knew the plan to take over the school would fail:

Earnest agreed to help Gary take over the school, not because he believed in the plan’s success, but because he knew it would fall apart.

And when it did? Gary would be desperate, paranoid, isolated --perfect conditions for Earnest to make himself the only person Gary could turn to.

It wasn’t manipulation, Earnest told himself -- it was “inevitable affection.”

_______________________________________________

The first time gary came to him for help:

Gary hated it --hated needing help, hated depending on someone.

But Earnest was the only one who had real tactical intelligence.

Gary asked something simple at first, like a surveillance angle on the Preps. Earnest delivered flawlessly. Gary came back. And back again.

Earnest acted modest, but inside, he was thrilled. He was becoming essential to Gary.

_______________________________________________

Gary started catching feelings --and it scared him:

Gary didn’t want to care. He told himself he was using Earnest. That he was just a tool. But it started to feel different.

He liked Earnest’s voice. His obsession. The way he looked at him like he was divine and dangerous.

Gary would catch himself lingering when Earnest handed him blueprints, brushing fingers too long.

It made him angry -- and that only made him come back harder.

_______________________________________________

Earnest was possessive the moment Gary let him in:

Once Gary started needing him, Earnest locked in. Subtly at first: glaring at anyone who got too close, “forgetting” to tell Gary about events that might distract him.

He’d speak softly but with underlying venom: “You know they dont understand you like I do.”

He kept files on everyone Gary interacted with -- and blackmailed or discredited anyone who made Gary smile too long.

______________________________________________

Gary trusted him -- But it was twisted:

Gary didn’t trust anyone. But Earnest... was predictable. Controlled. Obsessively loyal.

When he spiraled, Earnest was there. Cold hands. Calm voice. Calculating mind.

Sometimes, Gary would come to Earnest’s room at night, wordless, crawling under his covers and whispering things like, “Don’t leave me. Just…don’t."

And Earnest would hold him --silently triumphant, fiercely protective.

_______________________________________________

Earnest’s dominance wasn’t loud-- It was total:

Earnest didn’t need to raise his voice.

He spoke in facts. In precision. In promises that cut deeper than any insult.

And Gary, who tore others apart with a word, fell silent when Earnest looked at him a certain way.

Because Gary knew --if Earnest wanted to ruin him, he could. And somehow that made Gary want him more.

_______________________________________________

Earnest keeps gary’s meds, just in case:

After Gary’s breakdown post-ascension, Earnest took his medication into his own care.

Gary doesn’t know that Earnest sometimes gives him half-doses when he’s too “difficult.”

Not to harm him -- just to remind him who’s in control. Who knows him. Who can fix him.

And Gary, deep down, suspects it --but says nothing. Because he’d rather lose his mind with Earnest than be sane alone.

_______________________________________________

Gif by @bythaefloch 💚

______________________________________________

Inner circle:

@bythaefloch 💚

@aslanmanicz 💚

@iluvgaryandricky 💚

______________________________________________

@ilytomnlola 💚

There will be a part two!!

If you made it this far , you are a true garnest worshiper and will receive knighthood into our community 💚

If you want any requests lmk 💚

We love you 💚

Garnest mentioned 💚

[everlastingdream]

Part 1 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

"Look, it's not like I didn't believe you, but woah", Winn said, gaping. Alex silently nodded in agreement.

"Thank you all for helping me", Lena smiled warmly, still a bit shy now that everyone suddenly saw her.

"Em, yeah, sorry, Lena, there is a catch", Winn winced, rubbing back of his head sheepishly. "We kinda can't hear you. Because you speak so quietly that only Kara's ears can catch it, so if I make you loud enough for us..."

Lena tilted her head, thinking for a bit. She signaled Kara to relay her words.

"But it's not like all sounds are deafening for Kara", it was strange to talk about herself like that, "So it means there is some biological adjustments for her hearing".

"Of course, but I didn't want fo experiment with something that could potentially end very bad".

Lena and Winn traded ideas back and forth, already creating precautions, when Alex interrupted them, looking amused.

"Sorry to stop you both from nerding out but J'onn said we can just talk in the red lamp room. It will solve all your problems, no?"

Two geniuses meekly nodded.

"This way, miss Luthor". J'onn smiled and gestured to the coridor.

/ / / / / / / / /

Winn (with Lena right behind his shoulder) inserted some new parameters into his tablet, once they settled in the red sun lamps' room. And when he nodded to Lena, she said tentatively:

"Thank you all for your help", she smiled.

"I'm glad to help fellow genius", Winn happily answered. "Now we just need to..."

"Find my body, yes", Alex and Winn winced. Kara stared at the floor, trying not to see Lena's face, as she was talking about it.

"Yes, that. But we need to do one very important thing first".

Everyone glanced at each other with confusion. J'onn seemed to know what's that already, but he still looked relaxed, so Kara and Alex just waited till Winn's desire for dramatics was satisfied.

"We need to introduce ourselves!" Lena laughed, and wobbled in the air a little. It seemed that being visible didn't take away her ghostly powers. And while Winn was listing all his accomplishments, Kara found herself thinking.

Lena looked much more real now. Even without her powers Kara could see tiny freckles lining up on the side of her neck. Red lamps gave her green eyes mysterious glow, making Lena look ephemeral in a way that didn't have anything with the her status of a ghost.

It pained Kara so much to see her like that. Like she would be soft and warm to the touch, like she could really hug Kara or pat her cheek, like they need to just save her and not to retrieve her body.

Still Kara couldn't help but reach out hoping against everything that the fact that everyone can see Lena meant she can touch her.

When her hand went right through the edge of Lena's jacket, Kara tried very hard to hide her disappointment, but she still caught J'onn's sympathetic smile.

"So... You are the woman my sister is seeing", Alex asked strictly, and Lena chocked on the words she exchanged with Winn.

"I- Well, technically... I guess I am..?" It was adorable to see Lena suddenly fumbling with words, and Kara decided to play the knight despite her own embarrassment.

"Alex", she shook her head, exasperated. "Don't mess with Lena".

"What? She is," Alex shrugged, but finally smiled. "It's not like I said anything wrong. And here you are, already nagging me".

"This is Agent Danvers, Supergirl's foster sister", J'onn intervened, when Kara opened her mouth to bicker. "We are currently in DEO, department of extra-normal operations. And I am its Director - J'onn J'onzz."

"It's good to meet you, sir", Lena nodded.

"Likewise. I promise, that DEO will do everything to secure your body and will protect it until we can hand it over to miss Arias".

"I... appreciate it."

Room grew somber. When Winn's tablet chimed, he scattered to read it, if only to avoid awkward atmosphere.

"Miss Arias send us the information".

"It was fast", Alex said, already scanning the data from behind his shoulder.

"Well, she had a password. I will put it over our map".

They gathered around small tablet, looking at the area north of National city. Lena's coordinats, the green dot on the screen, was constantly changing as the map adjusted, only to stop right above the red mark.

"It's a Cadmus base", J'onn said grimly and stood up, already giving out commands to the agents by his communication device.

"This one is Lilian Luthor's", Alex sighed and joined her director in getting ready. They didn't seem hurried, since they will have to wait until Kara restores her powers.

"I guess she's one of my relatives?" Lena asked carefully.

"Your adoptive mother, to be precise", Winn was already putting dossier up front.

He started to recount his files to Lena, but Kara, tense after mention of Cadmus and as attuned to Lena as she is, felt that something was wrong.

Lena was pale. She always had a bit of white hue when Kara was the only one to see her, but now even with Winn's invention she was almost transperent.

"It's her. This is the woman I talked with, when my car crushed". Lena's voice was detached and angry, her hands clenched. When she turned to look at Kara, her voice cracked in the middle. "She wanted to kill me".

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 12: Fake Dating

When You're Lyin' Here in My Arms | @nickelkeep Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 7,240 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Idiots to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Everyone Thinks They're Together Summary: Cas' twin sibling Hannah is getting married. No big deal, right? But when the invite comes asking who his plus one is, well... Cas knows that it's not a good sign. In a panic, he asks his life-long best friend Dean to pretend to be his boyfriend. There's no way that can go wrong... Right?

A family affair | @milfdean4dilfcas Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7,332 Main Tags/Warnings: idiots in love, fake/pretend relationship, light angst, pining, Post-Episode AU: s15e18 Despair (Supernatural), the finale does not exist in this house, toddler jack kline, Parent Dean Winchester, Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, the smut is in the last chapter Summary: When the preschool director mistakes them for a couple, Dean and Cas decide to play along to avoid awkwardness. As they pretend to be a loving pair, they're forced to navigate the challenges of hiding their true feelings from each other. But as they fake romantic gestures and affection, the lines between reality and fantasy start to blur. Will their fake relationship become the catalyst for real feelings, or will it drive them further apart?

Welcome to Pit & Paradise | @seidenapfel Rating: Mature Word Count: 11,193 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, The Empty deal never happened, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Coming Out, First Kiss, First Time, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: When Claire calls, asking for help to hunt a shifter in an LGBT+ resort, Dean and Cas suddenly find themselves as husbands on their honeymoon. Forced to play a couple, Dean and Cas both have to face their hidden dreams and feelings. It’s all fake, or isn’t it?

The Exception to Every Rule | @mittensmorgul Rating: Mature Word Count: 58,784 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Actor Dean, Bodyguard Castiel, Stalking, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed Summary: When Sam was accepted to Stanford, he finally convinced Dean to move to Los Angeles to pursue his acting dreams after sacrificing for four years to support Sam throughout high school. Dean never imagined landing the starring role in a Hollywood blockbuster film franchise, but in just two years he’d gone from obscurity on the Lawrence Community Theater stage to become one of the fastest rising stars in the country. He's adapting pretty well to this new life in the spotlight-- until one unhealthily obsessed fan prompts Dean’s agent to hire a specialist from Seraphim Security to watch over him. Enter Castiel, one of Seraphim’s newest “Angels,” and the only one available to take on Dean’s case a week before Christmas. With Dean’s life on the line, Castiel does his best to maintain a professional distance, but with every passing day they’re both finding themselves making more and more exceptions to their rules.

A Crash Course in Computer Safety | @debatchery Rating: Explicit Word Count: 85,269 Main Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Slow Burn, CIA!Cas, nerd!Dean Summary: On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong. (NBC’s Chuck AU).

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Keeping Vigil

The little clinic on Pabu isn’t much, but you won’t leave it until he wakes.

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: kinda sad, kinda angsty, but also a little comforting, Tech is unconscious, reader is in love but our nerd has been oblivious, mentions of death/thinking someone had died, references to canon typical violence, ends on a hopeful note

A/N: this idea has been rattling through my brain for a while, and I refuse to believe he’s gone, so…. #TechLives

The small private room in Pabu’s only clinic exuded an air of tranquillity. Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, casting a gentle, dappled pattern on the white walls. A warm breeze carried with it the sweet scent of exotic flowers and sea salt, filling the room with a sense of calm that seemed to soothe even the most restless souls.

Curled in a small chair, your eyes were fixed on the swaying palm trees visible through the open window. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the nearby shore provided a comforting backdrop for your thoughts.

Hand resting on your chest, where your heartbeat drummed steadily, the faint hum of the nearby bacta tank was the only interruption in the otherwise quiet room, and it reminded you of the fragility of your existence.

Four weeks ago, you’d finally stormed Mount Tantiss.

Eight weeks ago, he’d enacted Plan 99.

Casting your gaze to the horizontal tank, you take in his prone form, following the jut of his nose, the curve of his lips, and down across his chin. Bones had been reset, bruises fading, and cuts stitched up, but you had no idea what the lasting damage would be. And you wouldn’t until he woke.

You hadn’t anticipated finding him, not after Hemlock had so callously thrown you his shattered goggles and declared it was all they could ‘salvage.’

Turns out Hemlock had been lying.

You’d never been more grateful for your terrible sense of direction. One wrong turn as you’d been searching for Omega and Crosshair had led you into a room full of bacta tanks, each housing a clone, but one had not been like the others…

You’d called for backup, Howzer and his men finding you a few minutes later. As a team, you’d drained the tank and pulled him free. A hasty job had been done to stabilise and get him to the waiting ships. But it had been enough.

The rest of the rescue had been a success – the Empire hadn’t anticipated a well-connected network of highly skilled clones to storm the place. All the clones taken had been saved and transported away in a small fleet of ships. Hemlock had met his end from one of Crosshair’s perfect shots, and once everyone had been clear, Wrecker had blown the place to smithereens. But not before you’d grabbed every scrap of information available from the place. The small pile of data spikes you’d handed over to the fledgling rebellion would hopefully help.

“The sun is out today. The storm I told you about the other day has finally cleared.” You spoke a little louder than usual. The doctor had suggested he might be able to hear you, and that thought is partly what kept you tied to the room – to the chair. You didn’t want him to be alone, to risk him waking with no one by his side.

That and you needed the reminder that he was still here. That the memory of him shooting the rail track and plummeting thousands of feet wasn’t the end. Loving him from a distance for years had been hard, but believing that you’d never gotten the chance to tell him had been devastating.

“I kind of miss it. The storm reminded me of Kamino.” You continued, letting out a soft sigh. Your fingers crept upwards, wrapping around his broken goggles. You’d carefully removed the glass and slipped them around your neck after Omega had been taken, and they’d rested there ever since.

“Remember that terrible storm, the one that knocked out the power when you were trying to fit my bracelet?” You reminisced, tearing your eyes away long enough to look at the band of silver around your wrist, which had been locked into place with one of his many screwdrivers. It had been a gift from them all six months after you’d joined as their handler. A comms unit and tracker had been embedded, and a small ‘99’ engraved into the metal.

“None of the torches were charged, so we’d had to borrow the one from Crosshair’s rifle. I can still remember the look on his face when Wrecker had reached for it.” You chuckled at the memory. Things had been so much simpler then.

A bird squawked outside, a reminder of how life was continuing on beyond the four walls of the clinic. The boys had come to see you and him a few times. Omega usually swung by after school with her homework, and you’d help her finish it. They brought you food and news from the rest of the island, and they’d leave with the same sad look on their faces – sympathy painting their matching brown eyes. They weren’t blind and had known for some time that your feelings for their brother went far beyond friendship.

Phee had visited once, too, having finally put the pieces together. She’d vowed to back off, to not tread on your toes, and while you’d appreciated it, you couldn’t help but feel bad. He wasn’t yours – he didn’t know how you felt. Who were you to say who could or couldn’t pursue him?

“I’m glad I found you. I thought for a while I’d truly lost you.” You confess, forcing volume into your voice even as it cracks a little. “As much as I despise Hemlock, I’m glad he found you, that he saved your life.”

“If I ever come across Saw Guerra, though, it’s on sight…” There was no point concealing your anger. The blame for Tech’s fall lay solely at Saw’s feet, and that man was fortunate you weren’t already on the warpath.

Silence lingers again, the breeze outside picking up a little, making the curtains rustle. “I’ve been trying to fix your helmet, too.” You state, turning to look at the mess of equipment on a small side table. “I found it in a million pieces in one of the labs on Tantiss. I think they were trying to access your files on the Republic. They just didn’t account for how smart you are.” A smile crosses your lips as you shift in the seat, reaching out like you had done hundreds of times over the last four weeks to press your hand to the tank glass. You loved that exceptional mind of his, how he solved complex calculations on the fly and picked up new skills and information in an instant. It was incredibly attractive.

“With how many pieces it’s still in, I don’t think I’ve accounted for how smart you are either.” You chuckle before taking a deep breath. “Maker, I miss you, T.” You whisper, slipping into the small nickname you’d given him shortly after joining the squad.

The silence over the last four weeks in the clinic had given you plenty of time to think. You weren’t sure when he woke if you’d share your feelings openly, but you certainly wouldn’t conceal your affection so much anymore.

“I miss your voice and your info-dumping.” You add. “But you’re going to get better, and you’re going to wake up.” You try to look at the bright side.

You took another deep breath, embracing a sense of hope that lingered in the air. With a tender smile, you felt the weight of the last few weeks finally lifting off your shoulders. “When you wake, I’ll be here, ready to help you, to share every moment, and every bit of affection that I’ve kept buried for so long. The quiet, safe life we’ve all yearned for is just around the corner. You, me, and your siblings, all back together again.”

Lost in the darkness, Tech’s mind had desperately clung to your voice over the last few weeks. And this time, as he listened, his fingers finally twitched.

[slowd1ving]

II. HOW DOES ONE DEFINE A NIGHTMARE? .・゜DAN HENG

One of the theories pushed forward in this universe—a common conjecture between scientists throughout the stars—is that there are disturbances in a system that is being observed, versus one that is not. This is astutely named the observer effect. And this situation is the first proper example he’s seen of that. Dan Heng feels that as soon as he takes his eyes off you, you’ll phase back to a space between these dimensions, like some specter there are only myths about. when data nerd Dan Heng finds the forbidden dictionary and masters the hidden art: synonyms male! engineer reader warnings: eventual nsfw, kind of but not really spoilers to dan heng's backstory, amab reader

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

DRINKER OF THE MOON, DEVOURER OF DREAMS MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

PREVIOUS PART . 　⁺ NEXT PART

There are many ways to encapsulate his sleeping hours. 

He doesn’t quite want to delve into all the different synonyms that essentially make up harrowing.  

Nightmare after nightmare plagues him. There’s the echoes from his past incarnation— feeling the terror, the loss, the anguish (yet never actually knowing the context behind this pain). There’s the haunting impression of being alone—a world of nothingness, in which he is bound by chains and fated to an eternity of stagnancy. There’s that pair of beastly eyes—so utterly, undeniably red as the insatiable sword pierces straight through his sternum. 

It’s no surprise when he wakes up with cold sweat plastering his hair to his temples and his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin. 

Even on the Astral Express, the torturous sleep continues to chase after him. 

He stumbles out of the archives; cold air hits him as he pads towards the kitchen, while the sweat still glistening against dermis only exacerbates his shivering. That’s why his vision is narrowed to only the door of the dining car and beyond—it’s appalling as a guard, but nothing out of the ordinary for just a man in this tender moment. 

He can barely see, so excuse him for not being aware of his surroundings. 

He doesn’t mean to crash into you. Really, he doesn’t. One minute he’s dragging his sluggish feet just fine against the plush carpeted floors—the next he’s stumbling over seemingly nothing, falling, falling, into what he knows will be a cold metal wall—

Except it’s not. 

He’s just ploughed himself into your side, and you fumble.

It’s a strange experience. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt that sort of sensation before—the embarrassing trip and fall—but what’s even stranger is the proximity of the position he’s entangled himself into. 

He’s shoved you against the wall, and is currently wrapped around your shoulders as he attempts to stand up again. Except he can’t; either he’s lost it completely, or he’s still recovering from that nightmare. Either are equally plausible. 

“Ow,” you comment, far too late. 

He wants to bury himself in space rubble. 

“You make all your journeys to the kitchen this way?” you add, and it’s a lethal hit. 

“I’m so sorry,” he manages to choke out, partly in panic, partly in apology, and partly in pure and utter mortification. He somehow pulls himself together enough to push himself off you and into leaning against the wall, but his eyes have been blown wide and his cheeks flushed in such embarrassment he doesn’t think he’ll ever recover from this. 

Gone is his stoic image. If he showed his face on the Luofu in this state, he thinks he might get away with it since he’s so revoltingly unrecognisable at this moment.

“All good, man.” It’s delivered with such casual finality he can’t help but stare. Certainly, this has helped him forget the horrors of just minutes prior, but at what cost?

“You had a nightmare?”

This question is also delivered in the same, offhand tone that offers him the choice of simply remaining silent. But it’s not like he wants to do that—this, after all, is only one part of the already-too-few interactions he has with you. 

“You could say that.” It’s not enough. The words don’t come out the way he wants: all shaky and so unlike his normal, composed cadence that he almost lets out one of his dry, sardonic laughs. 

He’s not following you as you slip into the dining car. 

When you glance back, he’s still against the wall: still thinking, still gaining his sense of self back. 

“You, uh, need a hand to get to the kitchen?” 

Now, you’re awkward. Had he not made himself into a fool, he mightn’t have witnessed this particular layer beneath the sculpture. 

“That would be appreciated,” he lets out; the words stumble over themselves in one big mess. He agrees to your suggestion, totally for the support, totally for the additional stability, definitely not to be closer to you for once—

Look. 

You offered in the first place, so why wouldn’t he take this hand of help?

Except, he would’ve most vehemently denied it had it been anyone else. If this was the IPC, they’d doubtlessly expect something back in return; but it’s not like he’d show them this sort of vulnerability in the first place. 

You’re different. You don’t expect anything. Though your methods of interaction are crude at best and flat-out disturbing at worst, you aren’t cruel.

Himeko was wrong when she tried to make you more palatable to him. He’s a sweet— he’s not a bad person. 

She’s wrong, in the sense that he’s still waiting for the bitter taste to taint his tongue around you: washing down his throat like the most pungent of coffees. You should be bitter, most definitely, but the way you’re wrapping his arm around your neck and holding it as though he— he, of all people—might break; the way you’ve got your other arm gripping the black fabric of the shirt resting against his ribcage like he might slip away again; the way you keep glancing to him then back to the walls, both checking in on him yet making sure it’s not too awkward—this isn’t bitter, this is anything but. 

She was wrong when she corrected herself, or maybe she didn’t expect Dan Heng to realise your true nature by himself. 

Even if it were Himeko or Mr. Yang, or even Pom-Pom, he would’ve also declined their hand. Maybe he just doesn’t want to feel like a burden, or maybe he doesn’t want to let them down, or maybe he’s just scared of disappointing and being disappointed—but the apathetic neutrality you held him to from the very beginning doesn’t seem so easily swayed. 

As above, so below. There’s a certain beauty in this ‘equilibrium’. 

But he discards those musings for a time where he can actually appreciate them, and focuses on the material rather than abstract. 

You still carry the scent of motor oil; faint alkanes taint the gallery. Beneath it is harsh steel and iron: not unlike blood, but decidedly more pleasant. It mingles with the aromas coating your dermis: acerbic energy drinks, and more perplexingly, the sweet smell of mandarins he’s come across in his travels. At the very end of the long path of fragrance, there’s that decidedly human aspect: sweat, and hazy soap that clings to skin. 

He decides he doesn’t mind the odd medley of scents (in fact, it’s very soothing—especially after the stench  of blood in his nightmares—and he’s definitely not getting sleepy). 

You’re warm. A pulse beats from where his skin exerts pressure on yours—steadfast, so utterly resolute he wonders if you’re ever affected by proximity. Are you picturing a Dan Heng pressed up against you, or is it a machine you’re lugging to repair? It would be amusing to think about if he wasn’t still shivering. 

“You cold?” 

You usher him into a stool by the counter, barely letting him process the question before you’re sliding a glass out of the cabinet, a pitcher out of the fridge, and a can of something from the cardboard pack stashed in a drawer. 

He wants to deny it, he really does, but you’ve already seen him embarrass himself—if he answers you with his teeth chattering, he doesn’t know if his ego will even remain intact. 

Scratch that. It’s already in tatters. 

“A bit,” he admits. 

When you turn back around, you’ve got a glass of icy water in one hand— for him, you slide the beverage—whereas you crack open the can of what he can only assume to be another caffeinated drink. Perplexingly, you’re shrugging off the loose hoodie draped haphazardly against your shoulders and—oh. 

It’s warm against his bare arms, and smells so much like you that he thinks you’ve cloned yourself. If you performed mitosis right now, he wouldn’t be surprised. You’ve behaved stranger. 

This, however, is something completely new. 

“Thanks.” It’s quiet. Can you see the small smile he fights down while he takes a long swill of the crystalline liquid? 

“No problem, man.” He can almost taste the artificial fruit extracts dance through the air as you take hurried sips of your own drink. 

He’s forced awake at odd hours. 

You’re working at odd hours. 

It’s starting to become a bit of a problem. Each time he makes his way for a cold glass of water into the kitchen, you’re there replenishing your energy to take a break from whatever you’re working on. 

It’s becoming routine. Nothing as embarrassing as that first night in the gallery, but something still so awkward he can’t help but feel antsy every time he alights from the futon in the archives. 

It’s also becoming routine that he starts sleeping wrapped in your clothes, breathing in the scent of motors and mandarins and that hazy soap. He’s forgetful when he’s panicking, stumbling towards the kitchen where he knows you’ll be to distract him with whatever you’re talking about. Whether it’s interstellar politics, complaints about the ‘shitty’ manufacturers and other organisations of their ilk, or maybe some more idle things like card games—you welcome the break in this lonely hour, and he welcomes the reprieve. 

One morning, it’s not the enthusiastic slam of his door from Pom-Pom that awakes him, but the methodical knocks from Himeko before she enters the archives. 

“Wow,” she comments as he sits up at her entry. “You’re getting close with my dear apprentice, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t quite know what she’s talking about until he finally looks down and it registers. There’s another of your sweaters—this one graphically decorated with bleached robots who are puzzlingly sunbathing (“They’re recharging their solar cells,” he can almost hear you say, serious intonation and all). Before he knows it, his head’s already buried in his hands and he can feel the flushed skin pressed in the grooves of his palms. 

He helps me sleep better— but the words die in his throat as he realises how that sounds, no matter how true they are. Feeling the warmth of another person—thick fabric, recognisable scent—helps him feel more secure when he inevitably settles in for the peaceful interlude in the next dreams. 

Though, despite his refusal to acknowledge it, he has a feeling Himeko knows exactly the idle leisure that transpires past 3 system hours. 

“Thanks.”

He pauses in his trance-like thoughts.

“I’ve known him for quite some time.”

She hesitates, and it’s the first time he’s heard her voice thicken like that.

“I think he’s happier nowadays, with a friend like you.”

Friends. The word catches at his own throat, and he doesn’t quite know why. 

Himeko leaves, but the syllables linger in their own sort of way. 

I think he’s happier nowadays, with a friend like you. 

　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　   ☾

The word when occurrences transpire more than thrice is habit, or more accurately, pattern. 

It’s a pattern that his feet seek you out; pattern that you pour him a glass of icy water; pattern that you sit at the bar stool opposite from him and swing your legs idly.

For that half-hour, his thoughts are tranquil. Only for that half-hour. Before the system ever brushes past four hours, you’ve retreated back to your room and he can find not hair nor hide of you until the next nightly rendezvous. 

It’s almost enough to make him forget that this is meant to be a temporary journey. Once one forms social bonds, it is that much harder to break them again—especially one as hard-won as yours. 

Friendship is something Dan Feng knows well; those warmer feelings have been passed down to this current reincarnation. They are two separate beings, but the tenderness transcends mind and body. 

Though he feels a foreign warmth at these systemic hours, he supposes he can’t call this friendship. 

He doesn’t have an iota of knowledge about your past, nor you of his. There’s a mutual understanding to not pry, to not ask questions—to go any deeper than a superficial level. If this were a biology lesson, you’d be stopping at skin level and delving no further. 

It’s so superficial, in fact, that it’s almost a comfort. You distract him from his nightmares and he doesn’t have to feel uncomfortable when you examine the why; he distracts you from the gruelling work you dive into daily, and he doesn’t question the why either. There’s an element of unhealthiness to it all, but the two of you are both at least a little sick in the head—perhaps that’s why the two of you stave it off a bit like this. 

But you don’t acknowledge him outside that prescribed timeslot. You rarely ever leave your room, and when you do, that game of chess last played two months ago seems worlds away. There isn’t a word spared for him—you’re talking to Himeko, to Mr. Yang, and Pom-Pom. But not him. 

It’s as though at night, a layer of yourself has been ground down by the day. You’ve softened enough to let him through that hard marble shell, just a little. As tough as the steel you craft. Maybe you’ve crafted your exoskeleton from it too—he wouldn’t doubt your capabilities that way. 

He and you are not quite friends, it’s something far lesser.

And he’s left wondering where the line is. 

Tonight especially.

It’s easy to slip into slumber—Trailblazing has a way of making him feel like it’s the Express crashing into him. After logging the important details of his mission into the Data Bank, he’s out like a light immediately. 

The dream starts off mundane. It’s the regular—a nonsensical storyline, fragments of faces he’s seen weaving inconsistently through the dreamscape, some he’s never seen before and can only assume belong to the convoluted past of Dan Feng. 

It’s nonsensical, but it stops being cheery when crimson starts seeping into its corners. 

The nightmare, at this point, should also be mundane but is still anything but. The red-eyed man still chases him, he’s still getting pierced through by an insatiable sword, he’s still dying excruciating deaths as punishment for his sins. 

Except, there’s an unexpected variable this time: you.

You’re getting slain in his stead, glassy eyes staring up at him—as if to remind him of the impression he first got when he saw you, like some cruel fucking joke. 

You’re bleeding out continuously, and the smell of metal on you is no longer from the machines you adore, but from the iron inside you. 

You’re dying, over and over, while he’s begging you to stay— don’t leave me. Like all the others in the ‘past’, don’t leave me too. 

He wakes up panting—there’s a frigid atmosphere from the sweat drenching him to the very bone. 

Dan Heng almost runs to the kitchen: stumbling through the luxurious gallery like that occasion all those weeks ago.

When he flings open the door, he crashes into you as you’re at the counter— breathing you in, taking in all the warmth so bitterly robbed from you. 

“You…” you trail off, your words a mumble as his arms weakly support himself on the counter. He’s still leaning into you—your hands are pressed steady against his shoulders, and he can feel the warmth of your calloused palms on his bare arms. “You’re freezing.”

It’s unspoken. Almost robotically, you pull your sweater off yourself and he pulls it on. 

Though, this time, you don’t hand him the icy water as is your modus operandi. 

Rather, you’re rummaging through the cupboards, and you pull out a small cardboard box labelled with a script he doesn’t recognise. 

“Camomile, lavender, and peppermint,” you translate, offering no explanation as you steep the tea in a mug with a wobbly cat drawn with wobbly lines with a wobbly handle. He gets it, he really does. “Sleep-aiders from a planet I knew.”

You don’t have your usual can either, instead choosing to brew yourself another mug as well. 

That’s another surprise, but then again, you’re not the most consistent person. 

“Thank you,” he mutters. He wants to look down at his hands, but he’s transfixed on your expression as you lose yourself in your thoughts. 

You pass him the steaming mug, and he thinks the brush of your fingers against his scalds him more than the tea ever could. 

“Worse, this time huh?” It’s not probing. You already know it was worse. 

Yes. More than you could ever know. Your eyes, glinting in the soft light, did not look like this in his endless night. 

He gives a noncommittal noise in response. It could be a hum, it could be a soft mumbled yeah. He doesn’t know. 

You mull over something as you take a sip of your tea. Some of his is beginning to waft steadily upwards, drowning him in a gentle fragrance that somehow suits your presence when you’re like this. At this hour, when you can spare him more than a cursory glance, more than silence. 

“Do you…” you pause, and he can feel his stomach tense in anticipation. “Do you want to stay in my room for a bit while I work?”

He didn’t expect that. 

He almost drops the mug. 

“Ah, you don’t have to or anything,” you explain hurriedly. “But Pom-Pom always says they get sleepy when they watch me map out new projects so if you’d like—”

“Yes,” he interrupts breathlessly. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t sacrifice his dignity to basically beg you to numb his mind a bit more. 

“I’d like that.”

And when you take his hand in yours—warm fingers clasped roughly around a clammy palm—he thinks that maybe he should stay on the Express a bit longer. Maybe a friendship won’t be impossible with you. 

In your sweater, drinking your tea, he doesn’t feel as much of a stranger as he might have otherwise when he’s standing in your room.

It’s cluttered, as cluttered as he saw all those weeks ago—but that was just a small piece of it, nothing like the sprawled chaos that surrounds him now. 

There’s a warm amber light shining over all the various machines decorating each corner, too many to count. They obscure the sprawling workbench tucked away near your wardrobe—it’s covered in various blueprint rolls and small bits of machinery that lay scattered between tiny screwdrivers and one comically large spanner placed bang in the middle. 

You make the chaos work. Gauzy fabric flutters against the ceiling and windows—linking delicate trinkets, colourful lamps and various machines that shouldn’t belong where you sleep. If he’s honest, it looks like some opulent laboratory he only saw glimpses of in the Luofu—though he much prefers yours. 

There’s no bed. When he asks, you inform him that you don’t sleep. 

That is a joke. 

When your deadpan expression finally gives way, you admit that the bed self-disassembles and assembles when the need for sleep surfaces. 

He takes small swallows of the fragrant drink, watching as you quietly fit the parts together without screws. There’s no music, so the only sound present is the clink of metal pressing against metal, the sound of your careful breathing, and the pulse of his heart. 

Unlike the kitchen, you don’t sit opposite him when you work. You’re sitting right next to him on the workbench. Each time you inhale, your torso expands ever so slightly and your arm presses against his in a way he definitely takes notice of. 

He fights down the strange embarrassment that tightens his chest, and keeps sipping his drink. 

It’s only when you’ve finally disassembled it and reassembled it with the screws that he finally begins feeling the soothing effects of the tea. 

You’ve started sketching—a rough idea for a building, he notes—lines confident and bold despite your use of a ballpoint pen rather than pencil. 

By now, he’s on his last morsel of the liquid ambrosia you’ve fed him. 

And he’s getting sleepy. 

There’s that constant scritch-scritch of pen as it moves against a thick sketchbook—easing into the paper with such languidness he feels it reflected in his own body. 

His eyelids are fighting to stay up, and he knows that he should be polite and excuse himself so he can curl back into bed with flowers still on his breath. 

He can’t bring himself to leave. 

There’s just something about the warm lights and the lethargy that hits him with the force of the Express. He’s loathe to leave it; it’s easy, so easy to let his head drop, before it finally hits—

Not the desk, but your palm as you protect it from the collision. 

“Wow,” you remark. “The tea really did do the trick.”

You don’t chase him away. When you ask if he’d like to stay a little bit longer, you don’t argue with the incoherent hum that exits his voice box. Before he can think about what he just did, your palm is cradling his head onto your shoulder. 

He’s soft, Dan Heng notes; he’s already sleepily inhaling the clean scent of your fabric softener—face smushed into the folds of your shirt. 

This isn’t his proudest moment. In fact, this is in his top three embarrassing ones. 

However, that’s a conversation to be held in the morning. 

He’s certainly not about to move from this position. 

Dan Heng isn’t awoken by the hurried knocking of Pom-Pom—no, this sound is much more familiar, much more dangerous. 

It’s the sound of a camera shutter clicking.

His eyes snap open, and he’s met with the sight of your folded torso and a flash of red in his peripherals. There’s something inexplicably soft pressing against his cheek, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the sleep that overtook him somehow landed his head in your thighs while you slumber over your desk. 

He sits up—careful to bang his head on neither the desk nor your chin—and looks in horror at Himeko, who’s smiling serenely as though that sound he heard was nothing. 

 “Himeko.” It’s the first time since he met the woman that his voice holds that note of utter caution. “What did you—”

“Shh.” She gesticulates to you, then mimes her finger on top of her lips. “He’s still sleeping.”

He refuses to look at you.

“Delete that,” he mouths.

 He thinks it’s the first time he’s been so stubborn with the older Trailblazer. And it’s only after he secures an agreement from her that he finally leaves your room—flinching from the door closing behind him as though it scalded him. 

He never ends up talking to you about what happened that night. He’s not sure he wants to bring it up, but it never does happen again. Dan Heng’s nightmares have lessened considerably, after all—yet his body still urges him to wake at three and fall into restless sleep at four system hours, so the nightly meetings continue. 

There’s a kind of mutual agreement between the two of you. Move on. The past remains unexamined, unexplained, and unapologetic. 

He thinks he prefers it that way. 

But in this situation, he really doesn’t know what to think. 

He’s been here for over two months, or more accurately, 1480 system hours by now. Every time he makes a stop at another planet, he wonders. 

Will this be the one? Would his journey start anew? Would he leave?

Each time, the answer is no. 

It’s a lot to mull over. He’s running his fingers over the uniform rows of CDs and cassettes and physical drives in the cabinets of the archives: a calming, rhythmic pattern— over and over and over.

Why can’t he leave?

Dan Heng pulls one out at random and stops short in disbelief. In all his years, he doesn’t think he’s been so astounded at someone’s audaciousness. 

It’s that damned photo, the one Himeko swore up and down was deleted—and clearly it wasn’t. He quickly adds aggravating to his mental list of her adjectives. He doesn’t know how long it’s been there—anywhere from a few hours to a week or so. 

He’s looking at you, slouched over your desk with a spanner intimately connected to the side of your cheek. It’s not a flattering picture whatsoever, but he finds himself entranced by this side of you— yet another, undocumented crack in marble. There’s a faint glimmer of drool on your lips— slightly parted— but the expression you wear isn’t tainted by anger nor exhaustion. It’s all washed away. You’re relaxed.

You’re relaxed, and his head is firmly marooned on your legs. The position makes him flush—while his face is thankfully forward, his ears are pressed to both your thighs and your chest as you snooze on the table. He’s not just confused, he’s flabbergasted. How did he get there? Was it really that bad—sure, he remembers waking up against your legs, but nothing as compromising as this!

He stares at the image a moment longer, then buries his face into his palm with an exhausted sigh. 

Dan Heng knows he should throw it out—use his spear to hack away at the picture until all that remains is artificial snow for good measure for both his dignity and yours—but he can’t, for some stupid reason. 

With lips pressed together, he slides the photo back into the cassette holder and quietly copies the data into a blank one. When it’s replaced back on the shelf, it looks identical to the one he’s still holding. 

It’s shoved into his bag: yet another secret to keep under the layer of superficiality. 

And when his mind finally clears, he’s already forgotten what he was meant to be doing in the first place. 

All that lingers is one thought: I don’t mind this friendship.

This thought is quite bittersweet. 

　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　   ☾

[clowningaroundmars]

morales twins hcs

i'm absolutely in love with the idea of miles42 and miles1610 being twins, i'm so glad most of the fandom has basically adopted 42 lmao

some of my own twins headcanons, just random stuff to add onto other ppls hcs ive seen:

☆ 42 loves his mamí absolutely but def acts the most like his dad, and haaaates when anyone points it out. it's the most obvious when 42 gets mad, he sounds EXACTLY like his father then lol

☆ in fact, the twins polar opposite personalities is probs bc 1610 takes after his mom's temperament more, while 42 is as stoic, stubborn and slightly dorky as his dad is

☆ whenever the boys made each other cry (by accident or otherwise) they did the typical little kid thing and tried immediately comforting the other. now that they're older 1610 handles his emotions better and is mature when talking about them, but 42 is the one who comforts 1610 more often

more below ↓

☆ as well as staying on top of his academics, 42 also plays basketball and trains in a couple martial arts studios after school. 1610 is taller than 42 bc of the spider bite but 42 has always been slightly bigger and more muscular than 1610 since he's the athlete. whenever the family attends 42's boxing matches, jeff gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu from back when he attended his own brother's matches before

☆ they both got thru school p okay, not many incidents of bullying mostly bc if anyone did try, 42 would put a stop to that nonsense immediately. 42 loves his bro with his whole heart and was glad to pick a fight with anyone who gave him any trouble at all. the whole neighborhood knew it too bc the only person allowed to bully 1610 is 42 himself!

☆ in fact, 42 doesn't win the lottery to enter visions in the first place, which saddened both brothers when they found out. so because they're at separate schools now, 42 makes sure his twin knows that if any fuckery is afoot at visions that he'd be more than happy to roll up and dogwalk any fool who tries it. 1610 laughs him off but knows his bro has got his back for sure

☆ 42 likes to pretend 1610 is the nerdy one, but they are both very big anime and manga nerds. every time they hit up any bookstore, they both make a beeline for the manga section and argue over who's gonna read the newest one first (they have to share cuz those books cost some moneeyyyy, man)

☆ 1610 and 42 love their uncle to pieces, OFC. they both pick up separate traits from him, even. 42 was inspired to start martial arts and boxing from watching videos on old digital cameras that aaron hung onto thru the years. they were of a much younger aaron back in his boxing days, when his family went to his matches and recorded them from the seats. 1610 was inspired to pick up graffiti and then even started doodling in notebooks bc of aaron

☆ 1610 is def the social butterfly and easily the most popular kid on the block by virtue of how friendly and outgoing he is. 42 is more introverted and keeps a small circle of friends, but everyone is cool with him nonetheless since they fuck with his twin bro

☆ since 42 stays at home the most (lol he a homebody) he picks up cooking much better than 1610 thanks to him staying in the kitchen to help his mom make dinner while they watch telenovelas together. 42 also knows how to dance bachata and salsa much better than 1610 too

☆ both twins love physics and math but 42 is more hardware-inclined. 1610 is about software, data, and formulas. 42 is good at taking things apart, putting things together, building and engineering. he kinda takes after his uncle aaron that way, and drove his parents nuts as a lil kid when he got his hands on radios, computers, clocks, etc

☆ 1610 loves softer brighter music like JID, steve lacy, smino, frank ocean, kid cudi, post malone, and nujabes. 42 is always bumping harder shit like pop smoke, waka flocka, zillakami, three 6 mafia, benny the butcher and some oldies like paul wall, wu tang clan, biggie smalls, MF DOOM and big KRIT. they tease each other's music tastes a lot since they're polar opposites in almost every way

☆ they actually have a shared playlist where they add new music they like (probs on some e-1610 spotify or soundcloud equivalent since everything is slightly skewed on e-1610 tbh). both of them check it periodically, and 42 is the more frequent contributor

☆ they both make art but 1610 is the artsier kid for sure. 42 doodles occasionally but he's not as enthusiastic about it as his twin is. they both go around the city tagging walls whenever they have any free time, though. 1610 loves colors, expressive styles and is good at coming up with cool ways to draw text. 42's lines, accuracy and technical skill can never be beat

☆ 1610 has superpowers, sure, but his fighting skills are trash! 42 was always the scrappy one, not 1610, so he shows his twin how to properly throw punches and other useful fighting knowledge. it def comes in handy in the future

☆ jeff loves his sons to death but he often finds himself butting heads the most with 42 since they're so similar, it kinda drives them both nuts. it def gets worse once aaron starts gossiping abt what jeff used to be like when they were kids, giving 42 plenty of ammo. they love each other but their relationship is just as complicated as it is between jeff and 1610, and 42 would be lying if he said he wasn't affected by the rift between his dad and uncle himself

☆ the minute the twins turn 16, 42 goes out and gets his drivers license on the first try (computer quiz AND road test aced) and rubs it in 1610's face almost constantly. 1610 likes to throw back that there's no parking space for another car on their block, so he can't even get his own car even if he wanted to anyways

☆ whenever the boys really fight, the whole city seems to know. they squabble a lot obvi, they're brothers. but the very few times they've given each other the silent treatment like for real, everyone in the family tries to get them to make up since it's unsettling to see two peas in a pod be so hostile with each other

☆ and since they've always been attached at the hip, 1610 being enrolled into visions felt. weird. everyone thought 1610 was gonna take it the hardest but surprisingly 42 had a harder time adjusting since he always saw his bro in the hallways at school, and was so used to him knowing the latest gossip of anybody in their grade. without 1610 around as often, 42 becomes even more withdrawn than usual

rio looks up from the pot suddenly, glancing at the time. dinner was almost ready and she… hadn't seen not hide nor tail of her son this evening. he returned home from school a couple hours earlier, choosing to skip going to his boxing class to shut himself in his room.

fine. teenagers can be moody sometimes and rio would rather keep her moody son at home where she can keep an eye on him, rather than worry about what he's getting up to on the streets.

strange thing is, though... rio hadn't heard a single noise come out of that room all night. 42 usually liked to have at least some music playing, maybe video game noises out of his nintendo... oh, what was it called again? whatever, that nintendo thing he played on sometimes.

rio placed the lid on the pot and lowered the flame a bit before making her way over to her twin sons' bedroom door, hesitating a bit when she noticed no light was filtering out from the bottom either. okay... that was weird, too. neither of her sons ever went to bed before dinner. ever.

the one time rio dared to try and send her sons to bed without dinner years ago-- as punishment for fighting right there in the kitchen that time-- both twins hollered so loud they got concerned knocks on their front door from various different neighbors. never again, rio remembered thinking that time.

now, the bedroom door stands oddly quiet and completely hollow without any signs of life behind it. rio knocked anyways, hoping against hope itself that 42 didn't go ahead and sneak out of the house without her knowledge. if he did sneak out, he's grounded for 3 months, rio thinks to herself mostly as reassurance. she nervously picks at a nail and strains to hear anything behind the wood.

she thinks she hears a groan and decides to try her luck by slowly opening the door. hopefully he's not in there... y'know, doing teenage boy things, either. dios mío.

rio swings the door open to...

...a completely pitch-black room, save for the sliver of streetlight filtering in past a crack in the window curtains and casting an eerie yellow glow on anything it could touch. it is cold, and also deathly quiet.

rio is shocked.

she walks over to the right side of the room where 42's bed is pushed up against the corner, next to the windows. on that bed lies a big lump, buried under several layers of blankets. the lump stirs.

rio crosses her arms. "mijo, mi amor. are you sleeping? …pero qué te pasa, papí?"¹

42 rolls onto his back and glares sleepily at his concerned mother standing at his bedside. it's dark in the room, but rio's face is illuminated by the living room lights pouring in from the open door. she's wearing a tilted smile, but coupled with the worry lines on her forehead, it isn't fooling anyone.

42 slowly closes his eyes, chin still under the covers, and lets out the most world-weary sigh rio has ever heard coming out of someone as young as him. if it weren't coming from her own son, she might have even laughed.

she immediately sits down, lifting the cover off of 42's chin to check his temperature all over his face. he tries to wriggle away.

"maaaaaa, stop..." he grumbles, trying to pull the covers up higher over his head. "'m not sick, mamí, forreal… chill."

rio leans on a hand. "¿si no 'ta enfermó pues qué es?² what's wrong?"

42 doesn't answer for a bit and rio exhales through her nose. " 'moré, what are you doing in this pitch-black room all by yourself? no light, no music, no nothing. what's wrong? you look like you're on a death bed!"

42 finally opens his eyes again, and blinks a few times as he says, "nothing, ma. seriously, i'm just... tired. that's all. i'm fine."

"you don't look 'fine' 42, you look like 2 seconds away from flatlining."

another sigh from the boy. rio rolls her eyes and places her hand on his forehead again, then strokes his cheek.

"is it 1610? hmm?" rio asks 42. she asks so unbelievably gently, as if by only mentioning his brother's name she would shatter something in the room. a mirror or something.

42's heart clenches at the love and care his mother is showing around this particular topic. it was true, and he couldn't even deny it. having 1610 in the house less and less every week, not seeing him in the hallways at their local high school, receiving sparser and shorter replies to his texts... it was all building up in his chest and the dam was pretty close to bursting. especially now as his mom was lovingly stroking his cheek as she checked in with him. how embarassing. rio wouldn't see him cry, not right now. he closed his eyes and willed the tears away, for her sake.

miraculously, 42's voice didn't crack or waver when he said, "yeah. yeah, i miss 'im."

rio crooned something saccharine in spanish and placed a kiss on her son's forehead. she saw right through his cold tough guy act, as expected. with how much of a mama's boy 42 was, it would've been impossible not to. they spent way too much time together for her to miss how he dragged his feet getting ready for school in the mornings, how he's been skipping martial arts and basketball practice more often lately, and how unenthusiastic he's been in general.

rio chuckles as she lays her cheek on 42's forehead for a second before sitting back up. "ay, bendito. 42, you know your brother is just down a few blocks from here. why don't you go visit him soon?"

42 shuffles under the covers. he's unsure if he should even admit this, but he proceeds anyways. "uhm. he's not answering my texts lately, so." he feels strangely guilty about this, like he just snitched on his twin somehow even though he has no reason to suspect that at all.

rio sighs and looks off into the distance, bracing herself for what she's about to say. she looks back down. "yeah. i know. he doesn't answer mine, either. i was hoping he was talking to you, but... well. "

something in 42 stirs a bit. "i bet he thinks he's in some fancy private school, around rich kids, now he's too good for us," it's a weak attempt at a joke, but rio smiles down at him anyways.

"don't worry. the second he gets home this weekend, he's on house arrest. okay? he's gonna be chained to you the whoooole time. and i'm keepin' watch."

it's not much, but 42 still takes that little bit of hope and holds it gently in his mind.

"the second he walks through that door, i'm tackling him. i don't care." 42 smiles at the thought.

rio laughs, kisses his forehead again and stands up. "dinner is almost ready, by the way." she gives him a look. "you better eat with me tonight, because your brother is at school and your dad is doing overtime tonight. okay? okay."

42 sighs deeply to wake himself up a bit more as he sits up and scratches at his durag. "yeah, yeah. 'm comin', ma!"

¹ "but what is going on with you, papí?" (papí being a common term of affection for a boy in spanish, it doesn't always mean "dad" lol)

² "if you're not sick, then what is it?"

☆ until they get "too old" for halloween, the morales twins ALWAYS wear matching costumes. every year. every single year, no matter what. what they usually end up wearing changes every year and they aaaaaalways argue over it, of course. notable costumes so far: batman and superman (age 13), two ninja turtles (age 9) (im thinking mikey and donatello bc of personality but lbr rio most likely forbade either of them to be leonardo bc the twins would deadass get into a fist fight over it), tom and jerry (age 2), mario and luigi (age 7), woody and buzz (age 5), peter pan and captain hook (age 10), and-- rio's favorite-- thing 1 and thing 2 (age 4)

☆ 42 was surprisingly always very popular with the girls at school. in middle school, 1610 was the geeky one with braces and acne. 42 got off relatively easy in that regard and as a result was labeled "a heartbreaker" from the jump, which annoyed him. he has no interest in dating whatsoever and swore to never get into a relationship before graduating high school. he's got his mom and brother to take care of and he's going places after high school, damnit! 1610 on the other hand is a huge romantic and has a crush on a new person almost every year of school, easily

☆ the literal second 1610 set foot in the house after his spider bite, 42 was all over him asking a million questions since they both have that supernatural twintuition, and 42 sussed him out immediately. 1610 obviously had to come clean and tell his brother he was spiderman just like he told ganke, otherwise he was never gonna be able to change into his spider suit at home (plus they share a room, so. there's that)

1610 didn't even get to close their bedroom door all the way before his twin leaped up from his own bed and stalked over.

"óye, bro. what's up? what happened at visions?" 42 circled his brother, squinty-eyed in the exact same way their mom is when she's suspicious. 1610 dropped his bag next to his bed and plopped down on his sheets, trying to put some distance between them.

"uhhhh what're you talkin' about?" he tries casually, and immediately regrets it.

"uhhhhh what're you talkin' about?" 42 mocks. "don't play dumb with me. you KNOW what i'm talkin' about, stupid. first, you answer, like, none of my texts ever. then dad comes home sayin' you never let him talk face-to-face when he visited you a couple days ago. mamí has been texting and calling you nonstop, no answer either. you are a brand new person now, huh? qué te pasa, yo?"

1610 hunched his shoulders as he got up and slumped over to his desk. he was quietly weighing his options, nervously rearranging papers and sketches on the wooden table, wondering how he was going to break it to his brother that he was--

"lemme guess. you have superpowers now," 42 says easily. he crosses his arms triumphantly when big round amber eyes suddenly turn up to his face.

1610 searches his face for any hint of a joke. no... no way. did his brother just...?

"you're playin' with me. no way. how did you--?"

42's eyes widen. "wait, are you being deadass right now?" he threw his head back and crowed with laughter. "that was just a guess!"

1610 leaped forward and pushed his hand onto 42's mouth, shutting him up. "heeyyy hey hey hey hey shhhhh, man. damn, could you possibly be any louder? look," he took his twin by the shoulders and gave him a slight shake, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "mom and dad can never know anything about this. okay? anything. not a word, you understand?"

42 pushes his brother off. "ok-ay man, cool it. i promise. we can shake on it, even."

wordlessly, they did their super secret handshake they came up with and perfected in the 4th grade in lieu of hooking their pinkies together. it was the morales shake, a move that binds them to secrecy and keeping promises til death. this was serious business. 1610 relaxes a bit once they're done.

"... okay. and i mean it, pencil braids. if you even breathe a word about this, or even think about--!"

"if you don't just tell me already, goddamn."

with a meaningful look thrown at his brother's way, 1610 raises an arm silently. 42 looks back expectantly.

1610 shoots a web up. he jumps up, using the web as a bungee rope to help him flip and land feet-first onto the ceiling. once his sneakers touch their ceiling, he stands up... upside-down. he stares at his brother and his brother stares back, mouth agape.

"niiiiiiice," 42 leans back and grins up at his twin brother, spiderman.

☆ 1610 is glad he has someone besides ganke to talk to about spiderman stuff, though. his brother listens way more attentively than his roommate anyways, and even tries to help sometimes esp when 1610 needs a quick distraction so he can switch from spiderman back into his regular clothes before the parents notice

☆ 42 is surprisingly cool abt his twin bro being spiderman, actually. even when they're texting 42 is careful not to imply 1610 is spiderman, and often calls stuff in to the police station if 1610 webs anyone up and lets him know. he also gets very good at bandaging up wounds quickly

☆ 42 is a hardass on the outside and contains his emotions much better than his twin, but he's kinda different around his family, since he loves them a lot. he jokes around a lot with them, esp around 1610. they also love pranking their parents, and are p creative at coming up with ways to make everyone laugh

☆ i personally picture 42's personality being sort of like huey's from the boondocks, especially around other adults. he becomes withdrawn and speaks very clearly and directly, and is very shy around strangers. some ppl mistake that as him having an attitude problem but his friends and family know better. only difference between huey and 42 is that 42 isn't nearly as woke lmfao

☆ meanwhile, 1610 becomes a motormouth around strangers and is quick to hug and kiss random family members at family reunions. as a lil kid, he'd always be the one up at the counter ordering for the both of them and chatting with the cashiers, or bus drivers, or whoever. as he gets older and used to the spiderman thing, he chats and jokes with randoms a lil less. he has to save the good material for when the mask is on

☆ 42 is a better writer than he is an artist, actually. he has notebooks filled with poetry and lyrics he scribbles down on post-it notes just to stick them in there for safekeeping. he's also been working on a sci-fi story since he was in 6th grade in absolute secrecy; he doesn't want a single soul to see it. he'd be mortified if anyone saw the nerdy shit he comes up with

☆ even tho 1610 has never fought anyone or been scrappy with anyone else, he's very good at wrestling and dodging punches thanks to his brother.

☆ 42 is the more fashion-inclined twin, even tho they're both sneakerheads. 42 just pays more attention to accessories, the fit of his clothing, how to pair the right shoes with the right jacket. 1610 throws on anything comfortable and calls it a day, and it gets even worse after he becomes spiderman. 42 clowns his brother SO HARD after he finds him wearing yellow sweatpants with an oversized red adidas hoodie and a green puffer jacket once (it was when 1610 came home from fighting a shapeshifting lizard that tried to take over cypress hills. the sweatpants were on backwards)

☆ 1610's sense of humor is geeky and he always tries too hard with his quips and jokes. he usually gets "secondhand embarrassment" chuckles from ppl. 42's style of comedy is a mix of dry humor and unintentionally being funny. this dude will say something clever with the straightest face ever and have the ENTIRE room in stitches without even meaning to

☆ just to nail home how different they are, even tho they share a room, you can tell EXACTLY which half of their room begins and ends. 1610's half is cluttered, vibrant, covered in posters and action figures, collages and trinkets on every available surface. 42's is as clean as a hospital room, and he ALWAYS makes his bed every morning. 42 has a poster or 2 hung up but he's not much for decorating in general. he's more into alphabetizing his bookshelf and looking for more efficient storage to put under his bed

☆ when jeff looks at his sons, he sees aaron and himself and sometimes it scares him. when the boys were around 12 (the Evil Year) he made SURE to sign them up for camp trips that summer and keep them close together as much as possible. he hates to see his boys drift apart at all and is the 1st one to call it out if he sees it. he just doesn't want his boys to end up like he and his brother did…

☆ … and then other times? it genuinely makes him feel a combination of irritation and also fondness bc sometimes 1610 and 42 really really remind him of aaron and himself, esp when they were young. ESPECIALLY when they argue. in every playful slap on the shoulder, every arbitrary competition started out of nowhere, every sleepy brother slowly sliding onto the other's shoulder during nighttime car rides, he sees it. he sees them, and then he sees his past. and with every little difference between the boys slowly cracking open like a chasm with each passing day, sometimes he thinks he can even see his future.

☆ 42 is cool or whatever but i also hc he's kinda… weird sometimes. it gets worse when his twin bro goes off to visions, he keeps staring at walls while sitting in dark rooms and eating at weird hours of the day. rio caught him fast asleep practically hanging off the window sill one night, and another time jeff found him having an entire conversation with a brick wall once while on patrol. 42 refuses to answer any questions

☆ after 1610 gets into visions, becomes spiderman, tells his parents abt his plans to go to princeton, etc... 42 eventually starts feeling a type of way (a jealous way…) their parents also seem to pay attention to 1610 more whenever he's home just to add insult to injury. he knows he's not supposed to, but he often finds himself thinking about the prowler gloves and schematics aaron left behind. he managed to grab them and hide them in a gym bag one day while helping his parents clear out aaron's apartment. the tech currently lives under his bed…