#like everything can pretty much be explained if you know the science

[frost-eyed-autumn]

The silent contemplation just gives him time to enjoy his food, even if he's still subtly watching her just a bit. Not enough to be obnoxious about it, but enough to measure that she's weighing what she wants to say and how to say it.

All valid, really, considering he imagines falling between worlds isn't exactly some common, simple thing. At least, he doubts it is. There's probably some kind of complexity to it.

At the very least, there is plenty and plenty of of theorem on the concept of alternate worlds or other habitable planets, so on that front, his mind is open to many explanations.

Even if, on a standpoint of experience, most things can still be explained from a framework of Abilities.

Most things, except the one thing that comes closest to maybe, possibly, being a genuine alien. Not unless Dazai was wrong about there being no exceptions to his Ability.

Pocket dimensions, he can accept as real. He'd seen that ex-spy Randou create one in front of his very eyes, much as he'd prefer not to think about that. He'd been stuck for a while inside the space-time contradiction that was Guivre's body, for a time, and by all rights he never should have managed to escape alive if not for Adam. There was also that girl formerly from the Guild who was able to make an alternate dimension to trap people in that the Boss had gathered intelligence on personally.

So some kind of pocket void dimension? Okay, he can kind of accept that without too much trouble, even if there's still clearly pieces missing, though he's not completely sure if its for omission's sake or if Neo doesn't completely understand it either.

He chews on Neo's words a moment along with a prawn from his seafood noodles, trying to conceptualize all that she's telling him in his head.

The bit about being betrayed is... admittedly something he can sympathize with, if for entirely different reasons, and he recalls her hinting at something of that nature before.

"Yeah, I can understand that much."

At her question, he gives her a glance before sitting back a moment, and slips a phone from his pocket.

"Nah, it's not stupid. I figure there has to be some differences. An alien is like... basically anything not from this planet. Most pop fiction makes them out to be like little green men with big-ass bug eyes and even bigger heads that travel around outer space in flying discs. People usually call 'em UFOs... Unidentified Flying Objects."

He showed her pictures, some of the little green men, and some monsters of truly nightmarish imagination.

"At least that's how it started out, but you can find all kinds of interpretations of aliens now. They're a real popular subject. Octopi are a pretty popular base to model off of."

Considering that THING he met, he'd started to wonder since then if there wasn't actually something to that.

"Mostly it all just exists in the realm of science-fiction. No one's really proven that anything like them exists... not for certain anyway. From what we know, space is mostly just a lot of giant floating rocks and balls of burning gas," he points up at the sun. "Not much of anything in the way of life out there except maybe microorganisms and other simple life, and theorists say some of it probably isn't even on other planets, but on moons orbiting them, like there are some planets in our solar system further out that have moons they think are frozen on the surface but might have an ecosystem of liquid methane oceans underneath-- ...ah, methane is a flammable chemical gas that occurs naturally from the decay or burning of organic bio-mass, everything from bacteria to plants to animals... and it can be refined into usable gas for things like stove-tops, but it can also be dangerous and cause explosions if mishandled, like if you don't know there's a gas leak and set off a match, since methane is colorless and odorless."

He might be over-explaining... or not explaining enough. He's not sure which, really, but he's at least trying to make sure everything he says makes sense.

"Suffice to say, we don't really know exactly what sort of creatures would live in liquid methane but... considering just how weird shit gets at the bottom of the ocean around here, wouldn't be surprised if it was freaky as shit."

𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐊, 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓 for the one that she couldn't explain without explaining a bunch of other things first. Neo leans her cheek on her palm and twirls her chopsticks between her fingers as she contemplates how to answer. Granted, it isn't as if she doesn't know the details- that's why they asked the djinn in the first place- but... well. There's a lot going on in the prelude to the Ever After. Popping a takoyaki into her mouth as she thinks, she finally decides on making things as simple as she can.

Fell off the path in a pocket dimension and into a seemingly endless void. The void was in fact not a void, but rather a space that connected to another plane.

It's as bare bones a reply as she can give, without going into everything about the Djinn, the wishes, the fact that the paths had been an escape route for people fleeing a soon-to-be-destroyed city. And that she'd only been there for revenge. Which, actually, she should clarify:

Though I didn't fall so much as I was knocked off. The bitch I was working with double-crossed me for making her apologize.

Her smile is lopsided and a little sardonic as she plucks up another takoyaki, chopsticks snapping together as she chews. Internally, she's hoping Cinder chokes on both her pride and her lack of ability to exist as anything but Salem's lackey anymore. Externally, she's serenely enjoying her appetizer, even if there's a little flash of pure and unfettered violence in her eyes for a moment.

So you can understand why I'm a little... hesitant about working for anyone else. Even if this is already a much better working relationship.

Nowhere near as good as hers and Roman's but- well. It'd be hard for just about anyone to measure up in that regard. They were as close to being a unit as two people could be- she knew she'd never come across anyone who understood her quite like Roman did again. She kind of figured no one else would really want to try, and that was going to have to be fine.

(Not that she was really looking. Some things just couldn't be replaced, even if you let them go.)

Then she pauses, because something in his phrasing had puzzled her a little, and she cocks her head at him in a mimicry of his own little head tilt.

Okay so stupid question maybe but... What's an alien?

[blackcurrant-juice]

stem student tries writing humanities essay for the first time. instant brain anuerysm

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[ashes-of-rozes]

AFAB!Pregnant Wife

Telling the batfam you’re pregnant (it’s Bruce’s)

Bruce:

You’re nervous as hell. He has four adopted kids, one biological, and three more that aren’t his but are his at the same time. You just got engaged a month ago. He’s going to think you’re baby trapping him. But just get it over with. Like ripping off a band-aid.

“I’m pregnant.”

He stares at you for a long moment. You’re pretty sure he’s not breathing. Way to fuck up the rest of my life—

He sweeps you off your feet. Literally. He holds you tight. But not too tight. He doesn’t want to hurt the baby. “How long,” he murmurs, pampering soft kisses along your neck. “About eight weeks. But I just found out last night,” you answer. He beams. You’ve never seen him light up so fast. So bright.

“You’re carrying our child?” A simple nod is all it takes.

He comes back from patrol a little earlier, is a little extra careful to not get hurt so he can take care of you. And if he was spoiling you before? It’s so much worse now.

Dick:

“You had something important to tell me? Are you okay? Is Bruce being Bruce again? Because I swear—“

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt out. Dick stares at you. “Is it his?” You’re a little offended but you can see the smile forming on his face. “Of course it’s his,” you defend. Dick laughs, wide and happy. His shoulders are relaxed for the first time in a while. “I’m happy for you. Is he smothering you already?”

So you bond over Bruce’s excessive need to spend his insane amount of money on everything.

But Dick does it too. If he sees a toy or an outfit he thinks you’ll like? Bought. He saw a collection of baby clothes based off of hero’s, bought the Nightwing ones all the way up to 2T and had them delivered to the manor.

Bruce was not happy.

Tim:

“You’re pregnant.”

“What,” you ask, “How did you even—“ “You haven’t touched alcohol at dinner for days. You’re constantly hydrating. And anytime you’re anxious, you hold your belly. It’s not rocket science,” he explains. You can see the bags under his eyes but he’s smiling, “You know that baby is going to get spoiled to hell, right?”

A nod.

He snorts, “Good. Cause as soon as they’re old enough to walk, they’re in Uncle Tim’s hands. I am going to teach them to kick Damian’s ass.” He leaves before you can say anything.

It could’ve gone worse.

Damian:

“I’m pregnant.”

This is the most nerve racking one. He’s the ‘blood son’. He’s always screaming it. Even if it is a little adorable how he uses it, you’d never tell him that. He stares at you for a long moment. “Does father know?”

“Yes.”

A long pause. He continues to stare at you. He’s harder to read than Bruce. “Can I teach them to sword fight,” he asks. It’s softer than his usual tone and there’s a soft pink on his cheeks that you really want to tease about but won’t. “Can you wait till they’re at least five or six,” you ask.

What even is my life?

He nods, “That’s acceptable.” Another pause. Then a small upcurl of his lip, “Congratulations.”

Jason:

He finds out through the media.

Not for lack of trying. But he hasn’t returned your texts or calls asking to speak to him. You know he cares a simple 911 or help and he’d be there in an instant but asking to talk? Yeah. No.

He storms into the batcave, spots you with a hand on your stomach and sipping water. He’s pissed.

“You didn’t tell me.”

Dick drags Tim away to give you two privacy. His face softens just enough to ease the tension in the air, “How far along?” “About nine weeks,” you reply. He sighs, “Do you need anything? Nausea medicine? A new future husband-slash-father?” That gets a small laugh from you.

Jason sighs and smiles, reaching for his gun. “Do you know how to use this?”

“No, but—“

He shoves the gun in your hand, “I’m teaching you. The media knows Bruce Wayne’s wife is pregnant. If we can’t get to you, you and the baby have to stay safe.”

So he teaches you to use a gun. Then personally gifts you one at your baby shower months later.

Bruce is not happy.

[mcrdvcks]

Congratulations on 2k girl 🥳🥂

Can I request for a Drabble or headcanons (whatever easy for you) about being married to Logan for 20+ years with kids. Still madly in love. Like full on domestic and Logan is pretty much retired, lives in his own house. (I know it’s sounds messy but idk how else to explain it)

Luv your writing so much <3

LOGAN LIVES IN A CABIN!!!! sorry, uh... i mean, it's my own headcanon that logan, when happy and retired, would live in a cabin. i'll never change that. anyways, i got carried away a bit, i hope i didn't repeat myself either, lol

send an ask for my 2,000 followers celebration!

warnings/tags: you and logan have 3 kids (and a dog), married life, domestic life, soft!logan, 20+ years of marriage, uhhh fluff, so much fluff

I’m going to say that you and Logan met at the X-Mansion. You were a teacher when he came arrived with Rogue. Now it’s been a little over 20 years and you and him live in a cabin in upstate New York, close to the Canadian border.

You have three kids: Laura, Elizabeth, and Kate. At first, you were going to stop at Elizabeth, but you agreed to try for another one when Elizabeth was 2 and Laura was 5. Logan made a joke that he was 2 for 2 with girls, and no boys. You told him that if the third baby was girl, you’d get a dog.

Low and behold, Pesto (Elizabeth chose the name, which Logan hated at first). A stocky, big-pawed German Shepherd pup with ears too big for his head and eyes that immediately adored your girls.

Elizabeth named him because “he’s the color of pesto” (he wasn’t), and Logan muttered “damn dog’s gonna be stuck with a salad name” for a week. But he’s the one who lets Pesto curl up on the porch swing with him every evening now.

Laura (now 17) is the calmest. Sharp as hell, emotionally steady, gets that from Logan.

She’s fiercely protective of her sisters, and never says much—but if someone even breathes wrong in Kate’s direction, she’s at their side in seconds.

Logan’s the only one who can get her to smile just by raising a brow and grunting “You’re taller’n me now, kid.”

She calls him “Dad” in public, “Old man” in private.

They train together in the mornings, still. Sometimes in silence, sometimes with quiet talks that never reach the house.

Elizabeth (14) is sunshine and absolute chaos. She talks with her hands and wears mismatched socks on purpose.

She's Logan's weakness. Absolutely the one who can convince him to do just about anything with a bat of her eyes.

She's the reason there's a glitter glue ban in the house.

She’s also the reason Logan has a pink beaded bracelet he still wears on his left wrist—it says “DAD (hearts) E,” and no, he’s never taking it off.

Kate (11) is all heart. Soft-voiced, bookish, with a deep curiosity about everything.

She loves animals and has somehow convinced Logan to build a tiny wooden shelter out back for “forest friends.”

She sometimes wakes up from nightmares, and Logan’s the first one there—scooping her up and carrying her back to bed without a word.

“You don’t have to be brave all the time, y’know,” he tells her, thumb stroking her hair. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Kate got Logan to buy an annual pass to the nearby Nature and Science Museum for the family. Every month all 5 of you go.

Logan grumbles about the long drives and overpriced snacks every single time—but you always catch him quietly staring at the girls with that full, soft look he tries to hide.

Laura always wanders off to the interactive exhibits on genetics. Elizabeth sneaks photos of skeletons making peace signs with their phalanges. Kate holds your hand the entire time, asking ten questions per minute.

Logan calls it “nerd day” but always makes sure the truck has gas and snacks packed the night before. He also never lets go of your hand in the planetarium. Not once.

He chops wood in the mornings, drinks black coffee out on the porch with Pesto at his feet, and swears he's "finally got the quiet he earned.”

You’ve caught him more than once watching you through the kitchen window with this soft, stunned kind of awe—like after 20+ years, he still can’t quite believe you’re his.

You and Logan still slow dance sometimes in the kitchen. Music playing from that old radio that cuts out every few minutes. You in a sweatshirt. Him in flannel and socked feet.

He always mutters, “Y’still got it, darlin’,” and nuzzles his face into your neck.

Logan is fully, shamelessly obsessed with you. He still calls you “sweetheart,” “darlin’,” “my girl”—and will growl if anyone talks over you or makes you feel small.

Any mention of you being “just a mom” or “past your prime,” and Logan is suddenly not retired for about 20 seconds.

He swears a little louder around you now, just to make you roll your eyes. He lives for your exasperated affection.

He kisses you like it’s still the first time. Hand at the back of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw. Always slow, always sure. If the kids yell “eww,” he’ll smirk and pull you in even closer. “Let ‘em learn what love looks like.”

The bedroom walls are lined with framed photos, paintings, and kid drawings. Laura drew the family in crayon when she was six—Logan still calls it “her masterpiece.” Elizabeth once made a clay version of the cabin. It’s lumpy and crooked and lives on the mantle like it’s sacred. Kate writes you little notes and folds them into hearts. Logan keeps his in his sock drawer. Doesn’t say a word about them—but he’s read every single one.

He still gets nightmares. You still wake up for every single one. Some nights he sits out on the porch with a blanket over his shoulders. You come out, sit beside him, wrap your arm around his back, and say nothing.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs into your hair. You kiss his jaw and whisper, “You’ll never have to find out.”

You’ll tease him about his gray hairs or how he needs glasses now for small print. He’ll grumble, but that dimple still shows.

“Ain’t old,” he insists, squinting at the back of the cereal box. You just hum and pass him the glasses he insists he doesn’t need. He only wears them around the house, never in public. “They’re reading glasses, not a damn fashion statement,” he mutters, even though you told him he looks handsome in them (because he does).

The girls all tease him, too—Elizabeth once bought him a “#1 Grumpy Grandpa” mug. He drinks from it every morning now.

On weekends, the five of you make pancakes. Logan pretends he hates the chaos—flour on the floor, Kate dancing to the radio, Pesto begging under the table—but he always flips the pancakes just the way each kid likes them.

“No chocolate chips for Laura,” he says, handing her the first plate. “Extra for Lizzie. Kate—you still like ‘em with peanut butter?” You don’t know how he remembers all their preferences, but he does.

Every once in a while, he gets restless. Not bored—just twitchy. You’ll catch him staring at the treeline, like muscle memory’s itching. You rest your head on his shoulder and say, “We’re safe. You’re safe.” And he exhales like he believes it a little more each time.

He takes the girls fishing every spring. Refuses to call it “a tradition,” but still cleans the poles weeks ahead and checks the tackle box twice. He lets them bring books and snacks and nonsense. Elizabeth usually ends up half in the water. Logan never even gets mad.

“Better a wet kid than a bored one,” he shrugs, handing her a towel.

You still kiss him every time he comes back in from chopping wood. Even if he’s sweaty. Especially if he’s sweaty. He’ll pretend to wipe his forehead on your shirt just to hear you squeal.

He never forgets your anniversary. Won’t let you forget either. “Twenty-three years this year, sweetheart,” he says one morning. “Still the best damn thing I ever did.”

The kids planned a surprise dinner once—Laura handled the schedule, Elizabeth did decorations, Kate made cards. Logan teared up. Logan. He swiped at his eyes, muttering, “Allergies. Damn pine trees.” (You hadn’t even gone outside yet.)

You still slow dance on the porch sometimes. Pesto at your feet. Stars overhead. The hum of crickets and Logan’s breath steady against your temple.

[inkskinned]

the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

[hoe-days]

You know what, we got Senku reaction what about the rest of the main cast. Ukyo, Gen, Chrome, Tsukasa, Ryusui, and Hyoga react to someone flirting with their s/o thinking "oh hell no" to "oh wait they are too dense to realize they are being flirted with" then it's just reliving vietnam flashback on how long it took them to finessed their way into a relationship with their s/o

This is so funny

————

Ukyo hears everything, especially when it comes to his S/O. So imagine his shock when he’s patrolling around their current settlement and hears someone speaking to his S/O. That in itself is nothing out of the ordinary, but what the person says is what catches his attention.

“That Ukyo is pretty shrimpy, huh? How could a guy like that handle someone like you. A strong guy like me would be a better fit for someone like you.”

Ukyo cannot believe his ears. The slander upon his name. He’s not one for confrontation, so he plays it cool, getting closer to where they are and listening.

“Oh wow I guess you are pretty strong huh.”

S/O don’t do this, Ukyo’s heart can’t take it. His S/O smiles brightly.

“But I don’t really care about stuff like that! Having strong friends is nice but Ukyo is my boyfriend, and that isn’t a requirement for me. And it’s not nice to talk about people like that too.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Friend?”

Ukyo can’t help but chuckle from where he is. S/O completely misunderstood the situation. He lets out a sigh of relief. Funny thing is that it kinda reminds him of how he and S/O were before. They were pretty much dating before he even asked them out. Back before the petrification, when he wasn’t out at sea he would visit them and hang out. He courted them with fun dates and gifts. He still remembers the way his heart shattered when they told him, “I’ve never had a friend do so much for me as you do, Ukyo.” He shudders just remembering it. Though he was glad they understood he was courting them after he explained so, as awkward as the conversation was at first.

He shakes his head before coming out of his hiding spot and joining S/O.

——

Now Gen catches on immediately. He’d be with Senku and Ryusui discussing the Kingdom of Science’s next move and he’d happen to glance over at his S/O across the deck of the Perseus. That’s when he sees one of the brutes from the battle team talking to his S/O. He can judge based on the guy’s body language alone that he’s flirting. Senku and Ryusui notice Gen is distracted and follow his gaze.

“That guy is flirting with S/O right in front of you, Gen. He must think that because he’s strong he can do whatever. Am I wrong?”

“Is it me or does S/O seem completely unaware.”

“My dear Senku you are correct. As intelligent as my sweet S/O is, they’re a bit lacking in the ‘romantic intention’ department.”

Gen sighs as he watches the guy give S/O something. They smile brightly as they thank him.

“Ah yes. The gifts. I remember constantly giving them flowers trying to express my love and I thought it was me doing magic tricks for them.”

“Yikes.”

Gen watches on as his S/O jogs over, showing him what the man gave them.

“Hey Gen! Look at this cool trinket that guy made.”

Gen gets a devilish smile on his face. Time for the dramatics.

“Oh my sweet S/O! What guy?”

“Oh I don’t remember his name, I’ll have to ask later. Oh we should put this as a decoration in our house when the world is restored.”

Gen snickers as he watches the guy stand there in shock and awe. Senku deadpans and looks looks at Gen.

“I thought you were supposed to be the morale booster.”

———

Chrome is very protective of S/O. The relationship is fairly new after all. It took ages of him giving them cool things as gifts to try and profess his love before FINALLY getting over himself and asking them out directly. Nothing really changes between them once they’re dating though, neither of them are ready to amp up the PDA just yet. The only people that really know about the relationship are Senku and Kohaku, they were the ones that helped him think of a way to tell S/O in the first place. So giving the limited amount of people who know about them, obviously someone will try to get with S/O at some point. In comes Magma. S/O needed help with some heavy lifting and Kohaku was off with Chrome busy with something else. Imagine their surprise to find that when they come back, Magma is flexing and boosting himself in front of S/O as they work.

“YEAH. BET YOU’RE NOT USED TO SEEING STRONG GUYS LIKE ME AT WORK. GET A GOOD LOOK.”

Kohaku is ready to jump into action and scold Magma, but stops when she realizes Chrome isn’t reacting.

“We need to stop him before he makes S/O too uncomfortable- huh?”

“I don’t even think S/O knows he’s there.”

“Oh.”

Chrome chuckles sheepishly and rubs the back of his head when S/O turns and notices them standing there. The jump up, running over to greet them excitedly, leaving Magma staring in confusion.

“You guys are back! Did you bring me anything cool back, Chrome?”

Chrome shoots a smug smirk at Magma before looking back to his S/O.

“Yeah! Check out this bad mineral I found.”

——

Tsukasa’s S/O is never too far away from him. They were the first person he revived when he gained control of the cave and have been at his side since. Most would see this and immediately understand that they have a deep bond with Tsukasa, but it seems sense is lost on some people. Some people being Yo. He decides that to get to the top, maybe be could suck up to Tsukasa’s right hand. No biggie! He walks up while S/O is taking a break from their sparring match with Nikki, and strikes up a conversation. He lays on the flirting pretty thick. Nikki is about to confront Yo but pauses when she notices Tsukasa and Hyoga walking up, most likely to join in training.

Hyoga raises an eyebrow at the scene before them before looking over at Tsukasa, who has the same stoic expression as he usually does.

“Well. Are you going to do something? Or would you like me to handle it.”

Tsukasa just chuckles.

“No, it’s fine.”

S/O who was staring at Yo a bit confused at what he was rambling about, turns their attention to Tsukasa behind him. Their expression immediately turns joyful.

Yo smirks, thinking S/O is on the same page as him, but is left dumbfounded when S/O jogs past him to talk to Tsukasa, smiling brightly as they look up at him.

“Tsu, you have to see the new move I came up with. I was teaching it to Nikki.”

Tsukasa smiles down at them warmly, placing a hand on their head.

“Yes, you’ll certainly have to show me.”

Nikki shakes her head before bopping Yo on the head.

“Are you really that stupid? Flirting with Tsukasa’s lover like that??”

“I DID WHAT?”

——

Ryusui is incredibly open with his affections for his S/O, so it’s damn near impossible to NOT know they’re together. So naturally it’s someone they don’t know! After the events on Treasure Island everyone is trying to calm down and work on repairing the Perseus, so Ryusui and his S/O don’t see each other much outside of sleeping in bed together. So imagine his surprise when he hears from Minami that one of the locals is looking to court his S/O. Initially he’s a bit serious, but then he laughs as Minami stands there shocked.

“HAHAHA. Clearly you don’t know anything about my partner.”

Minami blinks before following him to look over the railing over the Perseus, looking down at the beach where S/O was. A couple suitors stood by, looking to help with their task.

“Naturally people would be drawn to someone as great as my partner. WHO WOULDN’T? But S/O won’t budge.”

Minami looks on as S/O smiles and thanks the men for their help.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah they’re just being friendly.”

He looks down at S/O a bit exasperated.

“I asked them out multiple times and they thought I was joking. I bought them three luxury cars and they said I was too generous of a FRIEND. It took two romantic boat rides for them to realize I wanted to date them.”

Minami looks at him dumbfounded.

“THERE’S NO WAY.”

——

Now you’d have to be pretty stupid to even think of flirting with Hyoga’s S/O. That, or it’s someone who simply doesn’t care. Like Moz. He doesn’t care if they’re with Hyoga. If Hyoga likes them then that must mean he thinks they’re “proper”, which means they must be strong. That’s exactly Moz’s type. He has no shame in flirting with them once he’s a part of the Kingdom of Science. Though he knows better than to do it in front of Hyoga, not yet at least. However, Hyoga is well aware of Moz’s interest in his S/O and honestly, had his S/O expressed any discomfort, he’d have immediately put an end to it. But he knows them. He knows that they don’t care a bit about Moz’s flirting because they don’t even realize he’s flirting. Which is why he looks on as Moz once again preys after his S/O.

“You know S/O, I like the feisty ones. The strong ones like you. You’re just my type.”

“Really? Oh then maybe we can find someone like me for you.”

Moz smirks, thinking S/O is being coy, but then his smirk drops when he realizes they’re being dead serious.

Hyoga puts a hand on Moz’s shoulder, his grip tight.

“As you can see Moz, S/O is a bit dense. I can guarantee you that they have no clue of your intentions.”

Moz blinks, then looks at Hyoga with a small smirk.

“Then how did a stiff like you manage to do it.”

“A secret only S/O and I will know.”

[honeytonedhottie]

maintaining/creating a social life⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

ok so i used to have HORRIBLE social anxiety and i think that the contrast between me with social anxiety and me now is INSANE. in a good way ofc. so im not going to talk about how i overcame social anxiety, instead im going to talk about how i created a social life ✨

MAKING FRIENDS ;

the science of making friends is simple and im about to explain it. so go to where there are ppl that u can relate to/want to relate to. example being school, clubs, etc.

next, observe who u want to befriend and make sure to start with a compliment. starting off by introducing urself just makes for an awkward conversation but starting with a compliment puts u and the other party at ease.

something thats rly important is ur CHARISMA and ur magnetic energy so be CHARMING ✨ if u find that the other party is not reciprocating its either they're uncomfy, uninterested, or just a weirdo. and in all cases, you should stop.

MAKING FRIENDS THRU FRIENDS ;

make friends with your friends friends -> make friends with their friends -> and so on and so forth. this is how you network and create a friendly status with lots of people.

if ur in a school setting like i am, make friends with people in ur own grade or in a higher up grade, i dont usually make friends with ppl in lower grades but ofc there are always exceptions.

making friends through friends is how u get invited to parties, have more opportunities be available to you, and ofc network for more connections. guys connections are literally EVERYTHING.

MAKE TIME FOR UR FRIENDS ;

make sure to learn who u call friends. when is their birthday? do they have specific preferences? what kind of music do they listen to? knowing ur friends makes them feel special and thats how u learn to be a good friend. i can make a whole POST about being a good friend cuz i've learned and grown so much with that.

THE POWER OF A COMPLIMENT ;

make it ur mission to give a compliment everyday cuz first off, being nice is HOT so pls be nice and second of all, if ur trying to talk to someone and u start with a compliment i promise that it'll go so much better.

if ur thinking "thats so awkward how will i do that" then the category dont be shy is one that u gotta read cuz girl 💀. if u need an example i'll provide one from my own experience so u can see the power of a compliment.

there was this girl in my spanish class and i always thought that she was so pretty and she seemed so nice. one day we bump into each other in the bathroom and i compliment her hair and makeup, she responds well. we continue to have friendly interactions throughout the rest of the school year and now we are good friends on and off campus.

DONT BE SHY ;

when u make friends please please PLEASE work on ur confidence first. you need to be SURE of yourself. if not, when ur being friendly it could come off as desperation and ppl will humiliate, make fun of and take advantage of u. and thats NOT hot.

be CONFIDENT, you literally have nothing to lose. when u shed ur shyness (thru things like exposure therapy etc) a whole new world is opened up for u bcuz sometimes the only thing holding u back is urself and ur limiting beliefs about urself.

MAKE UR PERSONALITY SHINE ;

make sure that know ur own personality and from knowing that u can find ways in which u can make it shine. no matter what ur personality is though, something that i cannot stress enough is BE NICE.

be friendly and amicable with everyone and stay out of drama and if drama comes to you then stay unbothered 😭. dont try and uproot ur own personality to copy someone else's.

[whereserpentswalk]

You're working on an interstellar ship. You're currently monitoring a planet from orbit. As one of the six species with the ability to create faster then light ships, every nation of your species has agreed not to interfere with less advanced civilizations. It's for the best they say.

The planet you’re monitoring is dying of a plague. They don't understand germ theory down there, they've barely invented things like the printing press or gunpowder. It's not like they're less intelligent then you, they just didn't have as much time. The researchers on the ship think the plague is going to end their species. It's not certain it'll happen but it's looking like it.

The researchers on the ship talk about the people there like they're animals, they sneak into villages the plague entirely destroyed and steal corpses to experiment on. They treat the bodies as if they were never people. They talk about the actions of the people planetside like the natrual instincts of beasts and not the choices of rational creatures. "According to their primitive ideas about reality they burn bodies killed by plague." "A female is given the right to mate with her male as she pleases after their marriage ritual." "They lack the capability of understanding the proximity of our ship."

You eventually decide that you've seen enough corpses, and that you've seen too many people act as if there weren't people down there. You steal an escape pod one night and go down to the planet to tell them what's happening. You don't have a cure for their illness but mabye you can get them on the right track.

You see them alive for the first time, not just bodies in a lab but people going about their lives, talking to eachother, buying and selling goods at their markets, mourning their dead. They look different from you of course, your body is serpentine with your only limbs being the four long tentacles near your mouth, their bodies are insectoid with four wraithlike arms and four long skinny legs, their dark metal exoskeletons contrasting the white of your scales. You remind yourself that they're no lesser then you, that you have no right that they do not.

You don't pretend to be a god or anything like that, you want to be as honest with them as you can. You go to someone practicing medicine in one of their temples. She's a student, her species doesn't have a lot of knowledge of medical science but it's not just superstition, she's learning how to do surgery and make medicine out of plants as best as her culture understands. You think to yourself that she'd probably be a premed student had she been born into your species, mabye the type to go to a fancy school off planet, mabye the type to voluntarily turn herself into a cyborg. She's scared at first but she eventually calms down, you explain to her everything you know about the virus and how her species could prevent it from spreading, you treat her as an equal, and explain things in terms she understands but in as much detail as possible, without making anything up to make it easier. It's the best that you can do.

You eventually have to leave. You're found out pretty quickly, you needed your ID to unlock the escape pod. You very quickly are fired, and become internationally infamous. It's agreed that to not violate any treaties you're never allowed to leave your homeworld again, you can never so much as set foot on a starship. Years go by. You don't have a medical license anymore so you find work teaching medicine at a local college. You sometimes wonder what it would be like to have the girl you talked to on that planet so many years ago as a student. In a way she was your first student.

People sometimes want to interview you about what you did. You refuse most of them. There's a small but unpopular movement to make contact with less advanced planets who hold you up as an important figure. Saber toothed emothians, and soft fleshed earthlings, and many eyed galdians all come to you. They want you to endorse them, but it never feels right. The official narrative is that the planet you tried to saved as killed off by that virus, everyone says that the species you tried to help wouldn't have understood what you told them, and that the virus would have been their end a few years after you made contact.

Years go on. No spaceship ever had a reason to come to the planet you tried to save, so you never get any confirmation. You always look for that hope but eventually you give up, there's no reason to believe anything else. As your story gets further and further in the past you have no legacy, there are governments and corporations who make sure you're not remembered in public consciousness, and only a few online forms and academic historians really talk about your life anymore. Occasionally activists will scream your name, but the news never reports on it.

It is hundreds of years after your death. The species you saved all those years ago has finally created faster then light travel. All across their world statues of you exist, every child on their planet knows your name. The first planet they visit once they make first contact is your honeworld, and the descendents of the woman you explained germ theory to visit your descendents. They posthumously give you their highest awards, and thousands of them come to see your grave. Nobody there forgot what you did, you're credited with saving their species from existence. They wish they could tell you, everything was ok in the end, your compassion was not meaningless.

[demonic0angel]

Your Damian Fenton post gave me severe Uncles+Aunt Everlasting Trio vibes.

After the Moment TM of Danny being jealous about Jazz fixating so much on Damian, and everything had been said and resolved, I can imagine Damian being a little insecure, because his own Uncle looked like he didn't like him.

The goggles being a gift from Danny would be the turning point for the two of them.

Imagine, Danny in the lab, looking over notes from Frostbite about some experiment that he wanted to try out, maybe to take neutral ectoplasm and make it into healing ectoplasm, and he's pulling out his hair a little bit, because it's a lot all at once, and Damian wanders into the room, a little nervous, because while Uncle Danny already said it wasn't his fault, Damian still desperately wants his family to like him.

It's the "lightbulb moment" of a successful experiment that turns it around into Danny and Dakian being thick as thieves.

Danny bouncing on the spot, watching the mixture settle and change colors, and as he feels Damian approach curiously, in true Jack Fenton fashion, Damian gets to be squished against Danny's chest like a teddy bear while listening to his Uncle rapid-fire explain what just happened. It's actually pretty nice, getting to go limp and be swung around while cradled against Danny's chest, while Danny purrs with joy.

By the time he's set down again, Damian has a cursory understanding of what the experiment was, and also undeniable proof of love from his Uncle.

From there, Danny breaks out his old lab coat, from when he was Damian's size with the matching safety goggles, and has Damian put them on so they can take a photo together and send it to Jazz.

I can imagine Danny ruffling Damian's hair, giving him the Gremlin Smile and telling him "your mother's gonna flip if she catches you here without safety gear. But don't worry, your uncle's gonna make sure you know how to stay safe."

Danny gets whapped with the newspaper for using Lab Time as a bonding moment, but Damian is still clinging to him and constantly swishing the ends of his lab coat like he can't believe he's wearing it.

From there, by the time Danny, Sam and Tucker finally start dating, Damian has at least one patch in all his jeans, courtesy of Tucker, and he keeps stealing one specific t-shirt from Sam, because she left it in Danny's room and Damian thought it was the coolest thing ever, so he's going to steal it, like the gremlin Fenton child that he's learning to be.

Sam shows up the next day with a whole suitcase of graphic t-shirts for Damian to try.

Do you think the reason why Damian meets the Bats is because the Trio have eventually moved to Gotham, and Jazz+Damian are taking a vacation to go see his Aunt and Uncles?

The Trio take their nephew to a dog park so he can pet the dogs? Maybe also because they adopted a puppy from a shelter and whenever Damian is with them he HAS to be involved in walking the dog every day?

Regardless, one of the Bats see this mini-Bruce racing a dog through the park, and immediately have to go stick their nose into it, to great distress to Damian, and some seriously ruffled feathers from his Uncles, Aunt and Mother. Luckily, not Grandma and Grandpa, this time, because they're busy attending a seminar with Frostbite and his students, or there would be even more threats of bodily harm than there already were.

Danny, Tucker, and Sam were definitely a large part of his life since they babysat him when Jazz was busy. He bonded with them a lot over shared hobbies and interests (Sam with gardening and plants, Tucker with cars and machinery, Danny with ghosts and science and stars).

Honestly, when I thought of Danny being jealous of Damian, it was meant to be a moment between Jazz and Danny since Damian would've been like,,, seven when it happened. However, your idea is super cute! Danny and Damian do often do experiments and hang out with each other, but that's a post for another day 😌 the coat is specifically from Jazz since she gave it to him for his first birthday with them.

The reason why Damian meets the Bats is that the entire Fenton family went there to visit for vacation, but the real reason was that Jazz was planning to move there for work and wanted to take Damian with her, so she wanted to check it out first. Of course, shenanigans ensue as Damian makes friends with the Batkids (who are endeared by the tiny, mad scientist) and then eventually meets Bruce.

[roseandxanderfics]

"Always Been You" - Isaac Lahey x stoic!quiet!fem!reader

Summary: You’ve been Isaac’s one constant—his quiet best friend, his safe place. When he joins Scott’s pack and suddenly has people around who care, it should be a good thing. But he doesn’t like seeing them pull you in too. You’re his person. Right?

A/N: Based on this request 'Hey I love you "quiet ones" Liam fic so much. I don't know if you write for him, but could you maybe do one of a fem!reader of the same personality, but with Isaac?But maybe she's like his best friend already (and crush), and the only person he's friends with prior to being bitten. So when he joins the pack, he brings her along, but pretty quickly gets jealous because he's not used to seeing her talk to anyone. Then finally she bluntly reveals that she likes him back, or something like that :)'

----------

Before everything changed, it was always the two of you.

In the silent spaces between classes, in the empty bleachers during lacrosse practice, in the bruised shadows of Isaac’s bedroom after his father’s rages, you were there. Quiet. Still. Steady in ways no one else in his life had ever managed to be.

You were his best friend before he even realized he had one.

He met you in freshman year, the same week he showed up to school with a black eye he didn’t bother explaining. You sat beside him in science, didn’t talk much, didn’t ask questions, didn’t offer any soft pitying looks like everyone else. You just passed him a pen when he forgot his, and when he gave it back, you didn’t say you can keep it—you just gave him another one the next day.

That was the beginning.

You weren’t like Stiles. Not loud, not manic, not constant motion. You weren’t like Scott either—earnest, wide-eyed, heartbreakingly kind. You were… still. Watchful. A little intimidating. You only spoke when it mattered, and when you did, it wasn’t small talk—it was real.

Isaac clung to that like a life raft.

Over the next year, you became his safest place.

He never had to explain himself with you. Never had to pretend he wasn’t angry or scared or unraveling. He could just be. You didn’t try to fix him. You just showed up—sat next to him at lunch, waited at his locker, walked him home without ever being asked.

You weren’t just his friend.

You were his person.

So of course, when Isaac got bitten, you were the first person he told.

And when the world turned upside down, when he started seeing things and smelling fear and losing control of his own body—you didn’t flinch.

You just nodded. Took the information in. And said, “Okay. What do you need?”

Scott’s pack was warm. Loud. Full of light. Isaac didn’t know what to do with it.

It was like stepping into someone else’s life. One where people cared if you got hurt. One where group texts and game nights were normal, and nobody raised a hand unless it was to offer a hug or a snack or some badly timed joke.

He hated how much it terrified him.

Hated how badly he wanted it.

And hated, most of all, how fast you became part of it too.

You weren’t pack—not technically. But you showed up at every meeting. Watched every planning session with that same quiet intensity you always had. You weren’t loud or bossy or even particularly affectionate. You just… fit. Slipped into the background and anchored him in it.

Which is why Isaac noticed when your attention started to shift.

First it was Kira, sitting beside you at the McCall kitchen table, asking about your playlist and scribbling smiley faces in your notebook.

Then Lydia—offering to drive you home, giving you books she thought you’d like. You actually smiled at her. Smiled. Not wide, not showy, but it was real.

You didn’t even smile at him like that.

And then there was Stiles.

Always hanging around. Making stupid jokes. Talking a mile a minute. And you, somehow, tolerating him. Worse—you started responding. Not often, not much. But enough. A few dry one-liners. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it chuckle when he tripped over his own feet.

Isaac hated it.

He hated it so much he could barely look at you sometimes.

Because for the first time in years, you weren’t just his anymore.

It all came to a head on a rainy Friday night at Scott’s place.

Movie night. Popcorn. Pillows everywhere. One of those normal things Isaac still wasn’t used to.

You were on the couch with Stiles. Again. Not touching, but close. Too close. You had a blanket over your legs, sleeves pulled over your hands like always, and your head tilted in that way that meant you were paying attention to the screen but listening to everything else.

Isaac stood in the doorway, watching.

Stiles leaned over and whispered something to you. You didn’t laugh, but your lips twitched.

Isaac couldn’t breathe.

He turned around and left.

You found him twenty minutes later, sitting on the porch steps in the rain.

You didn’t say anything. Just dropped beside him, pulled your knees to your chest, and waited.

Eventually, he spoke. Low. Frayed.

“Do you like him?”

You didn’t look at him. “Who?”

“Stiles.”

You blinked at the streetlight. “No.”

Isaac let out a bitter breath. “You talk to him more than me lately.”

A pause.

Then: “I didn’t think it would bother you.”

His head snapped toward you. “Of course it bothers me.”

You turned. Looked at him, finally. Eyes dark, unreadable.

“You’re jealous.”

It wasn’t a question.

He tried to scoff. Tried to play it off. But he couldn’t.

Because you saw him. Too well. Too deep.

“I just…” He trailed off. Looked away. “I liked it better when it was just us.”

You were quiet for a long time.

Then, gently: “Me too.”

His chest tightened. “Then why…?”

“Because I thought you were pulling away. After the bite. After Scott. I thought you didn’t need me like before.”

Isaac swallowed hard. “That’s not true.”

You looked down at your hands. Your voice was softer now. Almost uncertain.

“You never said anything.”

Silence stretched.

Rain dripped off the porch roof.

Then, with a breathless kind of desperation: “I didn’t know how.”

He turned to face you fully, eyes wide, raw.

“You’re my best friend. My only friend for a long time. You’re the only person who’s ever looked at me and didn’t see some broken, angry mess.”

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak.

He pushed on. “And then Scott came along and suddenly I had this whole new world, and it was terrifying, but you were still there. You’ve always been there. Even when I didn’t deserve it. And I—”

He broke off, voice cracking.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since the day you handed me a pen and didn’t say anything.”

You blinked. Once. Twice.

Then, quietly:

“I know.”

Isaac’s breath caught.

You turned to him again, closer now. Knees brushing.

“You think I’m quiet because I don’t feel anything.” A small shake of your head. “But I do. I just don’t say things unless I mean them.”

Isaac nodded, slowly. Eyes locked to yours.

“And I mean this,” you said.

Then leaned forward, voice barely a whisper:

“I love you too.”

Later, he’ll think about how soft that moment was. How gentle. Like finally exhaling after years of holding his breath.

You didn’t kiss him right away.

You just leaned your forehead against his.

And it felt more intimate than anything.

“I’m yours,” you whispered.

He clutched your hand like a lifeline.

“You’ve always been mine,” he whispered back.

And this time, you didn’t pull away.

[moon-buggg]

Here's my lovely science edutainment bot Sun! I'm not. going to be focusing on this au until after Halloween at least, but I am in love with it

you know the drill more details under the cut!

The Pizzaplex is now a Kids Science Centre! Chock full of fun, interactive, learn-through-play exhibits designed to get kids interested in science! With their main sponsor being Fazco, they have a pretty big emphasis on robotics and computers, though they have a wide range of exhibits to appeal to interests of all kinds of interests

Each main exhibit has its own animatronic mascot, with Freddy being the main mascot of the whole centre. I haven't decided on specifics for the glamrocks just yet-

As for the boys, Moon runs shows in the planetarium while Sun does science experiment demonstrations like elephant tooth paste. Since they're mostly for shows and demonstrations, the boys don't interact with guests nearly as much as the glamrocks do.

Either they both used to run the planetarium (possibly in one body? I haven't decided) until the higher ups decided to replace the humans running the experiment shows with an animatronic, OR it was always like this I'm still deciding because it WILL change how I characterize them

Anyways I have the most info about Sun because he was just going to be an oc before this au was revealed to me in a vision so-

He has a bit of a stutter problem after an ill-advised tesla coil demonstration fried his circuits just a touch. It's not bad enough to be fixed but he is self conscious about it.

He makes his demonstrations into performances! Telling little stories about how he used to work at a zoo and really DID need to make elephant toothpaste while mixing everything together to draw out the big fun expansion of foam, before going into an age appropriate explanation of the chemistry involved. If asked to explain some science thing that isn't part of his scripts, he can struggle with keeping it child-friendly, going into too far much detail. He's just full of information!

the 'glass' part of his glasses are actually screens! Allowing his eyes to move around and emote. the little dots in the corners are the cameras he sees out of.

He's mildly less distressed by mess than his canon counterpart. As long as its part of the show (and doesn't get on HIM), messes are part of the fun! Extremely sensitive to his things being moved, however. It stems from his safety protocol, some of the chemicals he works with are legitimately dangerous, like liquid nitrogen, and so it could be bad news if somethings out of its place!

[clementine-writes-things]

MacCready Headcanons (SFW)

A/N: My headcanons are always really long and detailed bc I love making them. So, sorry if this one is really long. I love MacCready.

Personality:

He is smart when it comes to survival, but not when it comes to robotics or science. In situations like that, he's the equivalent of a drooling baby.

Super sarcastic. He tends to "lighten" tense situations with humor. He'll see a group of raiders/super mutants/etc and say shit like "Oh, well here comes the welcome wagon!"

Even though he is only 22, he has been through a lot of shit. Because of this, he isn't easily trusting of others, and he is very reserved. He is always suspicious of people until they give him a reason not to be.

MacCready isn't really arrogant, but he knows he's dangerous. He knows he's a good shot. If someone pisses him off, he'll inform them of this fact by subtly revealing the pistol on his hip.

"Wanna watch your tone?"

Once you further your friendship/relationship with him, he'll become more and more comfortable with opening up, and he'll show concern/care for you more. However, if you aren't that close, he simply does not give a fuck.

He's not insanely tall (5'10), but he's still intimidating when in his presence. It's hard to explain, but his "resting face" is piercing. It's like he's staring into your soul...

He's very desensitized to death because he saw so much when he ran with the gunners, but he hates seeing people in pain.

He's horrible with small talk, tells terrible jokes, and can be an asshole (though, he doesn't mean to be)

When you get close with him, he can be pretty protective. It's sad, but ever since Lucy, he's felt like a failure for not being able to save her. So, whenever there is an opportunity to help you, he jumps at it.

Once your relationship is strong, he doesn't like it when you travel without him. It's not because he's jealous, but because he's worried something bad will happen when he's not with you. He doesn't want you to end up like Lucy...

HUGE piner. The more he travels with you, the more he grows fond of you. He'll find himself thinking of you, even if you're not with him.

He'll hear a song on the radio and think "this reminds me of them"

This man is extremely violent when he needs to be. He'll threaten people, and his threats are ALWAYS promises. He isn't afraid to kick someone's ass, especially if they are a piece of shit.

Hobbies:

Collects comics. Specifically, Grognak The Barbarian. He knows everything about them and nerds out if he finds a comic.

When he isn't traveling with you, he chills at a settlement and listens to Diamond City radio while modifying his weapons.

Because he was a farmer for a little while, he likes to tend to crops in his free time. It reminds him of Duncan and Lucy.

He taught himself how to read back in the Capital Wasteland, and he'll occasionally read old books he finds.

Random:

He literally hates Radroaches so much. They make him so uncomfortable. Gags whenever he sees one.

His favorite colors are mossy green and sunset orange.

Believe it or not, he actually takes care of himself. He bathes (when he gets an opportunity), brushes his teeth when he can find toothpaste, and brushes his hair everyday.

Misses Little Lamplight so much. Sometimes, if he's at a settlement, he'll sleep in a cave near it, or sleep with blankets covering his head to mimic the darkness.

Random Things He'd Say/Do:

(Sees a tripwire, nearly activating the trap. He clutches a hand to his chest.) "My heart just fell to my as-, uh...let's keep going..."

(Stops walking to look at a bird, eyes narrowing.) "Think it'd taste good?"

(Stubs toe and bites on his tongue. Instead of cussing, he lets out a shaky breath, putting his head against the wall.) "Ouch."

(Y/n trips, making MacCready roll his eyes.) "Jesus, stay aware of your surrou-" (Trips and faceplants.)

(Y/n and MacCready are at a trading outpost. It's clear that the trader is trying to swindle y/n. MacCready takes a drag from his cigarette, pointing it at the trader.) "You want me to snuff this out in your eye, dude? Stop dicking around with us."

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #31

Belphegor: Snail but with no shell

Beelzebub: Oh those is then uuuuuuuuuuu slurms

Satan: A what

•

Diavolo: Maybe dogs lick us so much because they know there’s bones beneath our skin

Lucifer: This is worst thing you’ve said by far, thanks

•

Beelzebub: Aye can I get Uh…..ingredients on my burger

Satan: Beetroot?

Satan: You want beetroot?

Satan: You want fucking beetroot?

Beelzebub: Ingredience

Mammon: This post feels exactly like a conversation you would witness in a dream and think was completely normal and then wake up and think “what the fuck” for a single millisecond and then immediately forget about completely

•

Diavolo: I’ve lost 20% of my couch

Diavolo: Ouch

Solomon: That’s the funniest couch joke I’ve seen sofa

•

Mammon: *begins breakdancing gently* what’s wrong son?

Asmodeus: What the fuck. What does this even mean. Who thinks of this shit, why is it so funny. I hate this site

•

Mammon: You know what really gets my goat?

Barbatos: El chupacabra

•

Leviathan: The future: holograms can physically touch you and there are 12 cases of homicide committed by Hatsune Miku

Solomon: Just 12?

Diavolo: It’ll be 13 if you don’t stop asking questions

•

Satan: Do you ever get so excited you just want to crush a human skull in your hands

Mephistopheles: You just described breathing

Satan: I am fairly certain I Did Not

•

Mammon: I love it when the city gets rainy at night, and the floor gets all reflective and pretty, and everything becomes more vibrant and gorgeous and you can put any fluid on the ground and people will think it’s water, fools

Lucifer: This post was great until the last part, what are you implying

Mammon: Fool

•

Diavolo: Science puns, go!

Belphegor: You must have a pH of 13 cause you basic as fuck

•

Satan: Shut up @ people who still say “science side of tumblr”

Belphegor: Science side of tumblr why is this man so salty

Solomon: Osmosis

•

Satan: 100 years ago everyone owned a horse and only the rich had cars. Today everyone has cars and only the rich own horses

MC: The stables have turned

Mephistopheles: I laughed too hard at this and I hate you for it

•

Leviathan: Guys, I’m sorry but I think December 31st is going to be my last day on Tumblr for this year

Leviathan: …If one more person asks me why I’m leaving

Diavolo: Kids, this is why school is important

•

Simeon: In primary writing school we had a creative writing assignment where we had to ‘write about a character in a new strange environment’ and I wrote about a squid that was somehow transported from the ocean to the forest floor and slowly choked to death for two pages and I’ll never quite forget the look on my teacher’s face because it turns out she wanted ‘this new school is scary, I hope I make friends’ and not a graphic description of a squid dying

Lucifer: Well that’s just the risk you take if you decide to teach creative writing

•

Raphael: Why do stores always say “gifts for her”??? Who is she? Why are millions of Americans being encouraged to buy gifts for this entity? Someone explain

Mammon: We must appease Her

MC: She is all that keeps the darkness at bay. Without Her the Old Ones will rise again, we must not disappoint Her

Solomon: She is watching. She knows.

Last • Next

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

The Museum - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader Rating: A Joel fic that's rated G? Incredible. This is fluffy fluff fluff. Word Count: 535 a/n: I cannot express to you how much I'm firing on all cylinders at the moment, but I found time to write this little drabble today for TLOU Sundays! The last one before our collective demise! Imma go cry about that now.

You hear him before you see him, immediately aware that there's something different about him today. Something lighter in his step and in his soul when he finds you in the kitchen, his arms quickly winding around your waist to secure you against his chest.

"Smells good, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, nose already tucked into the crook of your neck in a way that makes you wonder if he's talking about the chicken cooking in the pan or you.

"You're home early," you point out, carefully flipping the food as his hands settle against your stomach, his thumb trailing beneath the edge of your shirt to brush against your skin. "I thought you had patrol today."

He shakes his head, "conned Tommy into taking it for me so I could do something else."

You frown, brow furrowing. "Something else?"

"Something else," he confirms, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before he shifts to stand straighter, resting his chin atop your head. "Working on a surprise for Ellie."

"Joel," you scold, now well aware of exactly what he had been up to. "You shouldn't be out..."

"I found it," he cuts you off. "The museum."

Of course he had. You'd been the one to figure it out, really, that the science museum might still be standing, right where you remembered visiting it when you were Ellie's age. The idea of actually finding it, however, was entirely his.

"Took me a bit to find a route there," he explains, tightening his grip around your waist to remind you that he's here, with you, because you know he's well aware of your opinion on him roaming outside Jackson on his own. "Things are pretty grown up now and some of it is in kinda rough condition, but it's not a bad trek."

He continues to ramble on about the exhibits that are still standing - the spattering of skeletons from an age far before cordyceps changed the world again, stuffed animals somehow still in better condition than most of the human population, and the space exhibit that had been the reason you'd remembered it in the first place. "The capsule is still there and everything, just like you said," he recounts, and it hits you just how excited he sounds about the whole thing.

After carefully removing the pan from the heat, you turn in his arms until his hands have settled against the small of your back, your front pressed into his form as you look up, the same enthusiasm evident on his face. "You're sure it's safe?"

Joel nods, just once, before his lips find yours in a soft kiss, your arms naturally finding their place around his neck as he pulls back, your foreheads still touching. "As safe as it can be."

You don't like that answer, and you know he knows that, but you're also aware that he's been through far worse. You all have.

"Just be careful, okay?"

He kisses you again, the same way he always does, in an unspoken promise that he will. "Ellie's gonna love it," he whispers when your lips part.

"Yeah," you confirm, the thought of her surprised expression bringing a smile to your own face, "she absolutely will."

[demziclez]

Can I please have a Twilight x Student Fem! Reader? It can be pony or human, and it can be platonic or romantic. You're a great writer!

♡~ Twilight Sparkle x Student!Fem! Reader ~♡

Context/Summary: Twilight's your teacher/tutor? Idk, but she has a CRUSH ON YOU! Gasp!

Category: Headcanons || One-shot? || FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFF

AWAAWAWAAA THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH 😭‼️ Sorry if this isn't that good lol, I don't simp for Twi too much HOWEVER writing this DEFINITELY made me LOVE HER MORE!!! I hope I interpreted your request alright as well!

Romantic and Pony version :3

Twilight didn't mean to fall for you. I mean, you were her student! It was "unprofessional" to date you!

But the way you asked her so many questions... and got excited about magic... the way your ears perked up when she explained something... It made her heart EXPLODE.

When she fully realized she had a crush on you it was PANIC MODE. Stuttering, avoiding eye contact, blushing CONSTANTLY, you name it!

“Ahem, this spell is u-uh… relatively simple! Yes! Totally simple… wow you’re pretty- I mean! Pretty PRECISE!”

When she's grading your papers she definitely starts the accidentally doodle little hearts, and then PANICS when she realizes you're going to see it

(To be honest you already probably knew she had a crush on you 💀)

Keeps trying to rationalize her feelings like a science experiment or a math problem (SHES SO CUTE AAAAA)

I think she's such a nerd that she'll confess with a LETTER.

Before one of your study sessions, she slips it next to you and stands there while you read it, fidgeting her hooves NERVOUSLY.

“I-I couldn’t find the right words... and I know this might be inappropriate or uncomfortable... but I had to say something..."

When you confess back and kiss her on the cheek, she short-circuits. (She's so adorable I'm crying 😭)

Study sessions are just mini-dates at this point.

Her wing will sneak around your shoulder as she rambles and explains various complex magic topics

If you tell her to slow down, she ACTUALLY will! She cares SOOOO much about if you really are learning or not! (even if you are her girlfriend)

Checks up on your well-being like CRAZY.

"Alright, today we’re learning about enchantments... but more importantly! Did you eat? Are you okay? Do you want to just talk for a bit?”

When you do good on a test she gets SO HAPPY!! Be careful because she might accidentally explode something with her magic from excitement...

If you’re sad? She brings you like five books, a blanket, and her whole heart

“You’re more than a student to me... You always have been. You’re my everything... Please don't forget that? Do you need me to write it down for you or...?

She'll read to you and ramble if that calms you down

Definitely lets you snuggle up against her... her adorable pounding heart ringing in your ear...

She cares about you a lot... like A LOT A LOT. Just remember to remind her how much you love her too? Please? She needs it...

AAAAAAAA SORRY IF THIS ISN'T TOO GOOD I KINDA FORGOT HOW TO WRITE TWILIGHT BUT SHHHHH!!! I hope you liked it and sorry for the wait! 😭