#crime lab play set

[fitsofgloom]

"This case is ice cold, boys! Let's put some Pepper on it!" I love these bonkers retro rack toys and their out-of-left-field TV and movie tie-ins. "Police Woman" has some surprisingly dark and edgy plot lines, and I'd have really gotten a kick out of watching episodes back in the '70s and trying to solve the cases of The Skid Row Slasher, The Nursing Home Angels of Death, and The Bridal Veil Strangler with the aid my trusty crime lab kit and Angie Dickinson action figure.

[reasonsforhope]

"Tilia is a vest-wearing conservation dog that the 444-acre [Mequon] nature preserve relies on for vital conservation and restoration work.

The dog’s responsibilities include sniffing out invasive and endangered species in the prairies, forests, and wetlands of Mequon.

Conservation dogs have become more commonplace in wildlife organizations, tapping into their astonishing scent-detecting abilities.

“Dogs in general already have up to 200 million olfactory sensors,” Cory Gritzmacher, the director of operations at the nature preserve, told Wisconsin Life.

Humans, on the other hand, have about 5 million.

“[Dogs are] already set up and designed for scent detection,” Gritzmacher added. “It’s really just finding a dog that’s motivated, that wants to do it on a regular basis and is excited to do it.”

Tilia was the pup for the job.

One of her main roles is to detect wild parsnip, an invasive species that staff removes once it is found on the property.

Compared to humans, Tilia can find parsnip in its first year, while it’s still close to the ground and camouflaged by other plants. This is vital, since parsnip will start to spread rapidly by the time it reaches its second season in the preserve. 

Studies show that the estimated damage caused by invasive species has cost the United States around $120 billion annually, as it impacts agriculture, recreational industries, and wildlife management. 

By catching invasive species that take hold of local flora and fauna early, Tilia achieves something no humans can.

“The best trained volunteers or staff in the world won’t even be able to find what a canine can,” Gritzmacher said. “That’s the pretty impressive part of it. And who doesn’t want to go to work with a dog?” ...

Tilia began training as a puppy, and now nearly seven years old, she’s a pro at scent detection — which all started with some treats hidden in cardboard boxes...

“As she continues to hit on the correct scent, then she gets rewarded. So, she’s going to get paid again. We do our work, we get paid. She does her work, she gets paid.”

Tilia can also spot Blue-Spotted and Easter Tiger Salamanders, which are endangered in the area. Her other scents include Wood Turtle and Garlic Mustard.

Of course, her workload remains balanced with time off. Her official owner is the director of Mequon Nature Preserve, who is happy to embrace her as the family dog when she’s not out sniffing.

But Gritzmacher, who trains and works alongside Tilia, adores her, not only for her companionship, but for the miracles she is able to work as an asset to Wisconsin’s conservationists.

“Canines are going to start to play a huge role in the conservation field just because of their amazing detection skills,” Gritzmacher said, “especially when resources are limited, staff is limited and you have to search potentially thousands of acres or miles.”

In fact, Tilia was joined by a partner in crime a few years ago: Timber, another chocolate lab who is actually the offspring of Tilia’s sister.

By following in her pawprints, Timber’s “powerful nose will be a key tool” in the preserve’s “land restoration efforts,” according to its website.

“For years, scientists have tried to replicate the power and efficiency of the canine nose,” Mequon Nature Preserve adds on a webpage for Tilia and Timber.

“The results keep coming back the same: The canine nose is second to none. Coupled with an insatiable desire to work and serve, Tilia and Timber help us find things humans often can’t.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, December 2, 2024

[nayziiz]

Pillowtalk | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Warnings: some smut, fluff

Author's note: Short and sweet for Osc. Been getting a ton of CS55 requests, so expect some of that coming soon.

Masterlist

Oscar groaned as the recycled air whooshed through the MTC simulator room. Another sunset he wouldn't see thanks to another gruelling preparation session.  Sure, F1 was all about pushing boundaries and whatnot, but right now, pushing the snooze button on his internal alarm clock sounded infinitely more appealing.  He glanced at the blinking steering wheel in front of him, a million buttons mocking him. 

"Essential," his brain chanted sarcastically.  Yeah, essential torture.  At least the stale protein bar he choked down earlier wouldn't fight back when he pretended it was a juicy steak. 

The prospect of her back in their apartment, her absence, a constant ache in his chest, made the cramped simulator room feel even smaller.  He knew she'd be prepping her "welcome home" ritual by now.  First, it would be the low lights, the ones that mimicked a real sunset. Then, the soft jazz that always seemed to melt the tension out of his shoulders, a stark contrast to the incessant hum of the simulator.  Next came her magic touch.  Oscar could practically feel her fingertips already, working their way across his scalp, a symphony of relaxation that could turn his frown upside down faster than any race car in the world.

He pictured her fingers moving down his back, her gentle pressure a welcome contrast to the stiff chair he'd been glued to for the past eight hours. Oscar knew the routine well enough by now. Her efforts were like a well-worn path leading him to sleep, each step a familiar comfort. But Oscar had one quirk in this carefully constructed relaxation ritual: his chattiness. The more exhausted he was, the more his voice box seemed to loosen, overflowing with nonsensical observations and half-baked conspiracies.

Sometimes, she found it endearing. She would play along, asking leading questions, feigning interest in his theories.  Other nights, his ramblings stretched on like an endless loop.  She would listen patiently for a while, her eyelids growing heavy with the drone of his voice.  But inevitably, fatigue would claim her, and she would drift off, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips, only to be woken up later by a trailing sentence or a nonsensical question that hung in the stale air.  Oscar, blissfully unaware, would keep talking, his voice a lullaby of exhaustion until it finally sputtered out, surrendering to the weight of his eyelids.  The silence that followed was a welcome sound, a sign that the bedroom was finally bathed in the quiet hum of sleep.

Other nights, she was too tired to entertain his delirium. He blinked at her, a goofy grin spreading across his face. 

“You know,” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “I was in jail once. It wasn't very fun, let me tell you.”

He hiccuped, a sound suspiciously close to a giggle. Struggling to keep her own eyes open, she jolted awake at his statement.

“Jail? Oscar, what are you talking about?” she retorted.

They had been together since high school, partners in crime when it came to studying. Jail? The closest he ever came to incarceration was detention for accidentally setting off a stink bomb in their high school’s chemistry lab.

“Monopoly,” he mumbled, the word slurring slightly. “Went to jail for, like, three turns. Worst experience ever.”

He punctuated his declaration with a dramatic sigh, then rolled over, burrowing deeper into the  bedsheets with the air of someone who had just solved a major existential crisis. She couldn't help but snort with laughter.  This was classic Oscar behaviour. 

“Honey, if you don't quiet down and get some sleep, you might end up in an early grave, not jail,” she teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

She reached out and gently swatted at his shoulder, the familiar warmth of him a comforting presence.  Oscar's pout, even obscured by sleep, was enough to disarm her.

“You’re so mean,” he mumbled, the accusation laced with a sleep-induced vulnerability.

“Look, it's three in the morning. You haven't slept a wink, and you have practice later this morning.  Think you can handle G-Force with no sleep?” She countered, her voice softened.  She knew the pout was a facade, a sign he was close to drifting off.

“Call it the 24 hours of Montreal,” he teased and nuzzled his face into her neck.

“Call it your last conscious moments before I suffocate you with a pillow,” she retorted, her fingers tracing circles absently on his arm.  She could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath, a slow, steady rhythm that was lulling her back to sleep.

“I'm in love with a bully, what has become of this world?” he sighed hopelessly, his breath hitting her neck at the right angle to make her skin tingle.

“Might need to call your Mom and tell her I'm in love with a criminal who went to Monopoly jail, bet she'd be impressed I've lasted this long with you,” she continued to tease him.

“If you continue to be mean to me, I will have to-” he began, but she interrupted him.

“What, Osc, what are you going to do?” she teased, knowing exactly what he intended.

A beat of playful silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken desire.  Then, before she could even form another witty retort, Oscar was a blur of movement.  With a whoop that startled her awake, he was on top of her, his laughter echoing in the room.  His hands, surprisingly nimble for a man who had spent the last eight hours glued to a chair, sought out her ticklish spots with an almost professional ease.  

Caught off guard, she erupted into helpless giggles that filled the room.  She squirmed and swatted at him weakly, more laughter than resistance escaping her lips.  Oscar, emboldened by her reaction, rained kisses down her neck, each one sending shivers down her spine.  Playfulness soon gave way to something more heated.  The laughter died down, replaced by a low moan that escaped her lips as Oscar's kisses migrated south, his touch turning from playful to urgent.

Their make-out session was a slow burn, fueled by exhaustion and a deep longing for each other. Each kiss was a whispered promise, a way of erasing the miles that separated them from a normal life at times. Hands explored, clothes became an impediment, and soon they were tangled together, in a universe of their own making.

The act itself was a whirlwind.  Oscar, fueled by a potent mix of sleep deprivation and pent-up desire, moved with a raw intensity that left her breathless.  He poured every ounce of remaining energy into it, their bodies moving in a perfect rhythm, a silent conversation spoken only in touches and moans.  

Afterwards, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.  Oscar collapsed beside her, a contented sigh escaping his lips.  He fumbled for a cloth, wiping away the afterglow on her skin with a tenderness that belied his previous intensity.  Flushed and breathless, she leaned into his touch, a wave of post-coital bliss washing over her.  

Within minutes, the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the air.  Exhaustion, finally winning the battle, claimed him.  He was out cold, a peaceful smile playing on his lips.  She watched him for a moment, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his face.  Oscar, with his sleep talk and his goofy Monopoly anecdotes, was her home, her safe harbour in the unpredictable world they found themselves in.  She snuggled closer to him, the gentle hum of the city in the distance a lullaby lulling them both into a shared sleep.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader

Includes stalking, public sex, vaginal fingering, two characters are 💀 by the end of the story, groping, choking

You decide to visit a haunt the week before Halloween with a group of friends, expecting an evening filled with innocent scares and a few lighthearted screams. It’s all in good fun, right? No one ever finds themselves in any real danger at one of these events, do they? So you assume it’s just your mind playing tricks when you notice the clown in the black and white costume, subtly following you and your friends around the park.

Your friends are oblivious; and you wish you were, too. Because maybe then you could enjoy yourself like they are, without the potent mix of dread and excitement competing for first place inside your gut. Everything about this clown should set alarm bells ringing in your head. He’s a walking red flag, some creep in a clown costume, with a black garbage bag slung over his shoulder (what the hell??) The costume looks eerily familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve seen it before. Maybe he’s dressed as a character from some obscure horror movie that came out decades ago, and that’s why you can’t place it. Whoever this person is, he must have nothing better to do than to stalk your friend group at haunt. And while his resemblance to something you’ve seen before is unsettling, what’s truly bizarre is that whenever you lock eyes with the clown, his eyes are always already fixed on you. As the night progresses, you begin to realize that he isn’t stalking you and your friends. He’s stalking YOU and only you…and despite your better judgement, you find yourself intrigued by his pursuit…

You’ve completed most of the attractions, with only a couple left for the night. Next up on your friend’s itinerary is the haunted asylum, a walkthrough attraction that takes place in an ‘abandoned,’ building deep inside the park. It’s filled with medical equipment and gruesome-looking props. Fake blood lines the doorway and floor of the entrance as you and your friends approach the asylum.

A ghoulishly made-up scare actor in a tattered lab coat lunges out at you from a dark corner. Your friends cry out in surprise, their squeals quickly turning to laughter. But your focus is elsewhere, specifically, on the clown whose tall, lean frame is outlined ahead. He’s already inside the asylum, leaning against the doorway of one of the ‘exam rooms,’ down the right hallway. It’s difficult to make out his features in the dim, flickering lights of the attraction; but you know he’s watching you. One of your friends tugs your arm to follow the group down a hallway to the left, but you hesitate.

Glancing back at the doorway to the right, you see that the clown is no longer standing there. You can’t understand why, but you find yourself disappointed that he’s gone. You decide to follow along with your friends, pretending to be interested when various scare actors jump out at you throughout the attraction. Immersed in a haze of artificial fog and flickering lights, you resign yourself to the fact that you’ve lost the clown in black and white for good.

After finishing the asylum, you linger just outside its exit. You make an excuse to your friends about needing a minute after the experience, telling them it was a little too much for you and you’re a little shaken. They’re understanding, and agree to give you some space to decompress while they go grab a snack just down the fairway. Grateful for a chance at some alone time, you pull out your phone and decide to do some investigating. Something about that clown struck you as so familiar, and you want to know why. You type in a description of his appearance, and immediately, an image of the exact same clown you’ve been seeing all night appears on screen. It’s a police sketch, of a man the attached article refers to as “The Miles County Clown.” Your stomach twists as you read further in the article, which describes his crimes in graphic detail. The final sentence informs you that the killer’s body went missing, and hasn’t been found in the year since the gruesome murders took place.

The sound of movement close by pulls your eyes from the screen. With a small, trembling voice, you ask “…is someone there?” Only silence answers you, till a familiar figure emerges from the shadows. It’s the clown, a wide smile stretched across his face. You notice that in addition to his usual black and white costume, he’s now wearing a lab coat over top of it. It’s just like the one the scare actor was wearing at the entrance of the asylum…in fact, it’s the exact same one. Except now, it’s spattered, along with the clown’s face and gloved-hands, in what appears to be fresh blood.

“I-don’t-please don’t-,” you stammer, instinctively taking a step back. Your hands lift in front of you, palms facing outward in a vain attempt at protecting yourself. The clown strides forward quickly, one of his hands reaching around the back of your head and clutching your hair. He whips you around so your body is pressed against his. You wince as the clown tugs your head against him, his body curved around yours from behind. Secured against his shoulder, he has you locked in place. With his free hand, the clown dips inside one of the pockets of the lab coat, retrieving a stethoscope. He fixes the ear tips in place on the sides of his head, pressing the circular metal chest piece against your skin.

You shiver, trembling in the clown’s arms as he pretends to listen to your heartbeat, like a doctor would. When he’s finished ‘examining,’ you, he glides the chest piece lower, releasing it just as his hand slips under your bra. You shudder when he roughly squeezes your tit, his hot breath dusting your cheek. The clown’s sick smile deepens; he assumes your response is one of revulsion. In reality, you find yourself uncomfortably aroused for reasons you can’t explain. The man holding you against him is evil incarnate; you should be terrified right now. He curves his hips forward, grinding against you slightly, enough for you to feel the unmistakable prod of an erect penis poking your ass.

Your heartbeat thunders as the clown gropes you, your nipple perking to meet his palm. He releases his grip on your hair, letting your head land back against his shoulder. While still kneading your tit in one hand, he shoves the other beneath the front of your pants. Your hips jerk as the pad of his index finger finds your clit and immediately applies pressure, rubbing rough circles over the swollen bud. The clown nestles his nose into the curve of your neck, his wet tongue licking up to your ear. Your thighs quiver around his wrist, your breath visible in the chilly Autumn air as you pant quietly. His fingers continue to explore you, spreading apart the soft, slick folds of your cunt, opening you up for himself. He dips his tongue inside the hollow of your ear; the moist feeling and the filthy wet sounds it creates have your clit pulsing against his fingertips. Your back arches instinctively, craving something more, something inside you. The clown indulges your need, pressing two fingers just past your entrance.

Your knees feel weak, not just from the pleasure you’re feeling, but from the sickening realization hitting you about who this man really is. You’re certain he isn’t just a random person dressed up as the killer clown from the previous Halloween. You know this is HIM. You can feel it in the confidence he projects, the ease with which all of this comes to him. And his hands, the hands that choked and stabbed and sawed the life from multiple people, are now knuckles-deep inside your cunt. His tongue languidly probes the hollow of your ear, his hand rocking back and forth between your thighs, fucking you mercilessly. Slippery cum splashes down your thighs, your eyes rolling back as the aching tension in your core begs to be relieved.

Just as you feel the first wave of your climax begin to unfurl, you feel it being ripped away. The clown yanks his fingers from inside you, making you wince at the sting left in their wake. You’re reeling momentarily in disappointment at your ruined orgasm, but the feeling quickly shifts to horror when the clown takes you by the throat, compressing your breath beneath his cum-covered fingers. The world around you fades in and out of focus, your body convulsing against his stoic frame as his hands crush your windpipe along with your last frantic hope of survival…

“We interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news from Miles County. Two bodies have been identified this morning in what authorities are calling a double homicide. The murders occurred last night at the local Halloween Haunt held in the old carnival fairgrounds. One of the victims, a male, has been identified as twenty-two year old Carl Holland. Holland was working as a scare actor in one of the event’s walkthrough attractions. Police report that the lab coat Holland was wearing when last seen was missing when his body was discovered. The other victim, identified as (Y/N), was attending the Haunt yesterday evening with a group of friends. Both victims’ bodies appear to have been ‘placed,’ inside the asylum by the perpetrator, as if they were nothing more than props. Unfortunately, due to the macabre set design of the event, the victims’ bodies blended in with the gruesome scenery so well that their deaths remained undiscovered for hours, affording the killer plenty of time to escape the fairgrounds without capture. Police advise local residents to be cautious when going about their daily activities the rest of the week and especially Halloween night, as only one year has passed since the Miles County Clown murders occurred. Authorities tell us that based on the way last night’s victims were mutilated, they believe a copycat killer may be replicating the work of last year’s killer clown. Please use caution when giving out candy this weekend, as you never know who may be waiting on the other side of your door with something more sinister than tricks and treats in mind… This concludes our special report. We now return to your previously-scheduled programming…”

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | six.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 10.1k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, sorry if i missed anything i had to quickly edit in order to get this out lol, san x oc finally talk a little more abt each other - family - friends, small affectionate gestures and kisses, yes we have finally made it my friends… the sleepover where we discuss neuroscience papers!!!! lmao jk 😭 was not lying abt the true crime aspect tho (i fear i know nothing else), san also opens up a bit more about iseul, making out, neck kisses, breast play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some clit play i guess!!, aftercare, cuddles

You decide to go to dinner with San, but the decision comes incredibly last minute. You've paced around your studio, sat on your bed for hours, going back and forth between a simple yes or no. Until, you finally realized you truly didn't wanna miss out. You felt like you'd regret it if you didn't just go to see what it'd be like.

Harmless.

Eunchae and Jurin are gone for the weekend for other family commitments, but you still find yourself having to make up some sort of scenario for the boys in case they come barging in while you're getting ready. You tell them that you're spending the afternoon with your mom and that you'll be back later tonight in case they wanna come over and hang out. Boys being boys— they don't pry much and leave it at that.

You let out a breath just after you end the call with Jiung and set your phone aside, dabbing a bit more blush onto the apples of your cheeks. 

San told you to meet him at a restaurant that's very Nobu-esque, and you damn near dropped your phone when you pulled up the directions and saw pictures of the fancy interior. Even if you protested, he wouldn't let up— promising you that he'd take care of everything and that he just wanted you to have a good time with him. He asked once more if you were sure about driving, and you insist; just for the one time, to play things safe, to relieve yourself of the pressure of having to be with San in a car in case dinner doesn't pan out well [for whatever reason].

You are equally excited, nervous and terrified. Might feel a little queasy from the combo.

You run the lip gloss across your lips before pressing them together, spreading it across the surface. You check the time and pack your things into your purse, giving yourself a little bit of wiggle room for the 30-minute drive east to meet San. You check yourself in the mirror and dust yourself off, smoothing down the simple, black cami-strap dress you have on. Good thing you checked the restaurant's dress code on their website last night, or else, you might have walked into the place in something a little more casual.

Not classy. Elegant. Black and white attire only.

You run off to your car without being spotted by anybody you know. You did run into a few classmates and other familiar faces, but ones that won't even bat an eye as to why you're running across the lot in heels and a black dress. You get into your car and warm it up before turning up the heat, pulling up one of your playlists and sending San a text to let him know you're leaving campus. The drive isn't so bad when your playlist is hyping you up, along with the clear highways. You've gotta cross a bridge and pay the toll on your way back, but you don't mind; you feel a sense of relief wash over you being that you've gotten yourself this far from campus.

You knew people from campus weren't fond of coming to the east side. It tailored way too much to the wealthy, hence, San's choice for tonight's dinner.

The side streets are a little too busy in the downtown area, but you finally catch sight of the restaurant on the corner of an intersection; nestled underneath a modern, upscale 5-star hotel. When you pull into the lot, San is chatting it up with the valet. He laughs and you catch that smile of his, his dimples. He's in a black button up, and black slacks. The first two buttons of his shirt are undone, the silver chain hanging around his neck— sitting prettily across his collarbones. He points at your car and signals your arrival to the valet, the staff member immediately meeting you at the driver's side when you park in front of the booth.

"Your lady has arrived." The valet says, taking your hand in his before passing you along to San and getting into your car to park it in the lot.

"Hey beautiful." San takes your hand in his and smiles down at you adoringly. "How was the drive?"

"Good." You're barely able to maintain contact because of how shy and nervous you've become being around him. He can tell, though. He chuckles and gives your hand a gentle squeeze before reassuring you with a:

"Promise I'll take care of you tonight, okay? Don't get shy on me."

"Who said I was?"

"You can barely look me in the eye, Y/N." You look up at him and try to hold eye contact, but you shrink; subtly biting onto your lip and hiding behind him when the host greets him like he's known him forever. He walks through the restaurant, heading towards the private back patio. This section is closed off and by reservation only— your guess is that San bought out the patio for your enjoyment, to ease your nerves. And you're proven right when the host slides the back door open, and there's only one table draped in white linen in the middle of the garden. There's a candle in the middle of the table and a singular red rose on your plate, San deciding to forego the additional decorations and rose petals because he didn't wanna do too much for a first dinner. He just didn't wanna overwhelm you knowing you might already be, but he hopes you know he'd take care of you in all ways if you'd let him— the roses and candles being a glimpse into that.

"The waiter will be with you both shortly." The host does a curt bow before leaving you and San in the patio.

"Choi San." You look at and he cocks a brow, trying to prevent himself from smirking too big.

"Mhm?" He looks at you.

"Why did you buy out the whole patio?!"

"To keep you comfortable." He smiles, eyes roaming your figure and the way your dress hugs you so, so beautifully.

"San." You frown a bit. "You didn't have to spend all that just for me."

"Um, yeah. I did, sweetheart." He laughs. "I wanted to. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry tonight." You slowly sit in the high chair in front of him, taking the singular rose to your nose before smiling shyly at him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." His hands are clasped together, elbows resting on the table— his piercing eyes bore into you. "How was your day?"

"It was good. I didn't do much besides get ready for the evening. Had to tell the boys I was running off for the evening like Eunchae and Jurin." San nods and sips his water.

"Sorry love."

"For what?"

"For having you lie to your friends."

"They don't care much." You wave it off with a giggle. "How was your day?"

"Well, I was gonna hang out at Jongho's but someone told me they wanted to go to dinner last minute."

"Wonder who that could be?" You tease and he laughs a bit.

"Yeah, right? She's lucky she's cute." He teases back and the heat rises to your cheeks.

"Didn't mean to impose on your plans with the other Professor Choi."

"Never. I see him all the time, he won't mind if I leave him behind for an evening." You laugh.

"Touché." At this point, the waiter comes and sets down some complimentary edamame before taking orders. You decline any alcohol solely because of your drive home, and San follows suit. He proceeds to order the food for tonight after remembering you didn't have any specific allergies, giving him free range to order things he enjoys, but also knows you'd love. 

Wagyu.

Chef's choice omakase.

Other choices of nigiri, like toro. 

Uni tempura.

Squid pasta with garlic sauce.

Chilean seabass with dry miso.

It all comes out of San's mouth like the price tag is nonexistent, and you're internally screaming. How could he be so damn charming and suave? Let alone, this is how he spoils you for the first dinner?

"That's all." San smiles toothlessly before handing over the menus to the waiter. He licks his lips and shifts in his position as if he didn't just order a line of the most expensive items on the menu.

"San, this is gonna be so expensive. I can't accept this. Please let me at least pay for half."

"Uh, no. What did I tell you, Y/N? I'd take care of you tonight. I meant it. Just enjoy yourself for me." You sigh and tilt your head before playfully rolling your eyes.

"I can't with you."

"Yes, you can." He chuckles. "So, tell me."

"Hm?" You hum.

"About you."

"What about me?"

"I wanna know everything and anything about you." He gives you that look. "I wanna know what Miss Y/N is about outside of her CV." You snort at the comment, the reality of you being San's rotation student almost hitting you dead in the face until you decide to brush it off completely.

"Well, I'm the only child?" You say in a questioning tone, unsure of where to start. But, the conversation eventually flows on its own. You tell San about your mom being a single mom and how it's always been you two from the very beginning. You don't know much about your dad, but you don't mind talking about it if asked. It's not necessarily a sensitive or heavy topic for you; it's just unfortunate that you don't have anything to add simply because you don't know him. You have family nearby, but your family is small. You don't have cousins you're close to, your relatives are mostly middle-aged, older.  Your grandparents were around up until you were in high school, then they both died from illnesses that got to the best of them.

Then, that was that.

You and your mom— mostly you, doing things for your own and on your own while your mom continued to work tirelessly at the hospital to keep food on the table. Rent. Necessities. You worked a few jobs throughout school to help as much as possible, but your mom always told you to put your studies first and to never force yourself if your body was too tired, too overwhelmed. It felt hard for awhile because your mom was barely around. When she was, she was tired. You felt distant, almost like you couldn't be close to your mom regardless of how hard you tried. You didn't think you'd be able to build a better relationship with her until you moved away for college. When you finally had your own space and the distance in between, your relationship blossomed and she became your bestfriend. Then, you tell San how you feel the utmost pressure to make her proud because you're the only child, the only person she can rely on in the future. The only person who can also truly disappoint her, which you don't want. 

Though, you feel like you've already started wandering down that path.

You're slightly interrupted when the waiter comes to bring in half of the order, starting with the nigiri and chef's choice, setting it down in the middle of the table. You both thank him before he says he'll be right back with the rest, San giving you the priority and freedom to choose whichever you want to eat. When you start to dig in, you continue to tell San about your friends and how Jiung's been your longest friend since high school. Otherwise, there haven't been too many people you could call your close friends. You knew people, you socialized, but you weren't one to toss the 'close/good friend' term around unless you felt a genuine, real connection with someone. You do feel like you could say that for Felix, Eunchae and Jurin even though it hasn't been long since you've known them; you've clicked with them easily and well. You're grateful for it. 

The conversation switches to San's point of view now, and he begins with his family dynamics. He relates to the pressure of making his parents happy as the only child, but he likes to think he's done well for himself so far. He talks about school and how brutal it was for him and his friends— San had a great mentor, but it was hours and hours of clocking in with no endpoint. Days and days of just hustling to finish and make sure he was producing amazing work. You reassure him by telling him you think it's all paid off, adding a little dash of seasoning with your 'or else we wouldn't be here, right?' playful teasing. He touches up on Jongho and their longtime friendship, followed by Mingi, Yeosang, Christopher, and now, Namjoon. He does talk about how him and Yunho used to be bestfriends, inseparable even, but he doesn't go into the details of what went down between him and Iseul. 

You won't press him. You'll let him come to you when he's ready to open up about it. Even though San acts like he's fine and he's moved on [he has], you can only imagine how it feels to replay the entire situation in your head, with the two people you trusted and adored more than anything.

"So, yeah. Namjoon and I got close because he was really there for me throughout a lot of the stuff that's happened. Even just down to minuscule things for the lab, my classes— anything. He's always been there for us no matter how busy he is."

"That's good. I can tell Namjoon really cares about you guys and the students."

"He's a good guy. His wife is lucky." You laugh.

"Do you see your parents often?" You watch as San puts another helping of the pasta and fish on your plate.

"From time to time, yeah, when they're around. My dad still travels a lot for business. Even though he stopped teaching, he's on a few boards as a consultant and agrees to talk for conferences or symposiums all the time. Mom's retired so she joins along. What about you?"

"I try to see her when I can. She's worked as a nurse at this hospital all her life, basically." He nods. "So, do you and the guys all live near each other?"

"Uh, sorta? Namjoon lives a bit further down south, but Mingi, Yeosang, Chris and Jongho live in close proximity."

"When you're not at work, do you just hang out with each other?" 

"For the most part. We're not always together, though. We like having our own space." He laughs. "Mingi used to pop up randomly and I had to tell him to stop doing it so often."

"Aw, he just wants your company. Don't be mean."

"I'm not mean! I just like to have my peace. Mingi is everything but peace." You laugh.

"Your home must be nice for him to be barging in like that."

"It is. I take pride in it now, not gonna lie." He sips his water, eyes gazing at you from over the rim of his glass. "You know, you're always welcome at my place." You look at him and slowly nod, trying to let the statement sink in. None of it feels weird to you; in fact, it makes you more curious to know about San's personal life. His home. What it'd be like to be in his space, alone.

"I'll keep that in mind. Might have to take you up on that one day." He smirks a bit.

"Yeah? That's kinda nice to hear. Lets me know I didn't entirely blow this." You giggle.

"Not at all." He sits back in his chair, content and satisfied from tonight's meal. He sees that you've finished everything on your plate, your attention now on the garden to your left while you sip on your water. He can't even deny how attracted he is to you, and how he has this indescribable pull to you. You're beautiful, and from your interactions, the way you speak and carry yourself, the passion behind your work, the way you care about your friends and mom— you've got a good, comforting soul that could balance his own. Almost like Yin and Yang, Tui and La. "What?" You ask him all innocently and he's struggling. He can't even help the huge smile that grows on his face when he looks at you.

"Nothing." He runs his finger across his bottom lip. "You're just.. so beautiful."

"Thank you, San." You respond softly and he feels his heart melt. The waiter comes back with the check, in which San is quick to hand over his card before you can even get your hands on it. You give him a look and he laughs, shaking his head after playfully reminding you that he'd take care of you. 

"Any plans for the rest of the weekend, or next week?"

"Not really. I'll probably hang out with the boys while the girls are gone. Next week, I've got a lot of behavior to run for Sunwoo, things to prep for the class I'm TAing for." He nods.

"Always working so hard."

"Uh, yeah. Especially for you." You poke fun at him and laugh. "What about you?"

"Mm, I have to actually start prepping for the symposium because it's coming up."

"Do you have your talk ready to go?"

"Nah." He shrugs. "But, I will."

"Do you still get nervous for talks?"

"Oh yeah, absolutely."

"You look so natural when you're doing it, though. I wouldn't have expected it."

"I do. I get pretty nervous. Not as bad as before, I'm able to shake it off better now." He lets out a breath, the both of you popping the little coffee candy that came with the check.

"How bad was it before?"

"Hm." He hums and thinks about it for a second. "Right before my first lecture for the big neuroscience association conference, I almost threw up. I was so nauseated, was dry-heaving for a good minute before I could get myself together."

"What? I would have never guessed." 

"Took a lot to get used to it. Still getting used to it." He smiles brightly. "But, I'm glad you think so. At least I'm doing something right." He looks at the date on his phone. "Speaking of the neuroscience association conference, the next one is coming up. Did you and your friends register to go?"

"Me, Jiung and a few others, yeah. Felix, Eunchae, Jurin and everyone else is just going to go on the trip cause they know that's where everyone will be at."

"Can't disagree, it'll be party central for the neuroscience community." You laugh.

"Can't wait to experience it." You look at him. "Will you be busy during the entire duration of the conference?"

"Mm, yeah. I've got a few other commitments and meetings. Lots of colleagues I haven't seen in awhile will be there, so I'll be catching up with them. There's also another smaller conference nearby that I'll be speaking at upstate before I head back down for the main one." 

"Busy you."

"Maybe. I'll always have time for you, though." He winks and you laugh it off. At this point, San stands and stretches before reaching out his hand for you to grab. "Ready to go?"

"I am." You take his hand and stand in front, letting San pull you flush against his body; hands resting on the small of your back.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the surface. Eyes examining your features closely. "Kinda wanna re-do the first kiss. Wanna do it right this time." You bite your lip and nod, eyes locked onto his lips as he leans forward. His lips meet you in a soft, tender kiss— one that isn't rushed, one that releases all your feelings into the universe, the galaxies. One that feels so natural, so meant to be.

One that gives you butterflies,

One that also unravels Pandora's box.

He holds the kiss for longer than expected, letting his lips mold into yours delicately. When he pulls away, he quickly reattaches his lips to yours; indulging in small sweet, repeated kisses before he kisses your forehead. He pulls back completely to look at you again, and he's admiring every inch of you from underneath the moon. You watch his jaw slightly tick, Adam's apple bob up and down; eyes full of desire. Need. Encompassing you, all of you.

"Hope you enjoyed dinner."

"I did, San. Thank you, again."

"No, thank you for joining me." He flashes you a cute, toothless smile before lacing his hand with yours. "Shall we? Do you want dessert or something?"

"I'm good, I'm stuffed. The food was so good." You pat your tummy as the both of you walk out of the restaurant and head towards valet, thanking the staff on your way out.

"Yeah, it was. Glad you're satisfied and happy." He presses a kiss to the surface of your hand just before greeting the valet. He runs to bring over your car first, parking it off to the side by the entrance to the lot to give you and San some time to say goodbye. San pops the driver's door open, allowing you to slide in while he hangs by the door. 

"Thank you again for tonight." You buckle your seat belt and look at him.

"Course. Drive safely, okay? Text me when you get home please."

"I will." 

"Good." He smirks before dipping down to give you another kiss on the lips. He shuts the door and gives you one last wave before walking towards his own car and letting you drive off. 

The butterflies that man gives you is insane. 

You can't even help but smile widely during the drive home, recounting each moment of the night and how you've quickly grown comfortable with San as a person. He's easy to talk to, easy to get along with.

Easy to be attracted to. Easy to be charmed by.

Easy to love.

You see it. You see why people love him and adore him, you see the bright aura he has. You see why people respect him.

You see yourself and him.

And the thought never leaves your mind once after that. You want San, just as he with you.

You head home alone that night, and the idea about being alone with San more— off campus, anywhere but there— becomes more and more enticing. It doesn't leave you for a few days, even while San is trying to give you the space to take things slowly. He's never pressured you into moving at a pace you didn't like, always gently touching you but never doing anything that would make you overwhelmed. Not only does he know you two have to be careful, but most importantly, he knows all of this is a lot. In general.

So, he sticks to the cute texts and phone calls.

Quick mini-meetings in his office in between commitments, especially during the rare moment of an empty basement. Quick hello's in said office that result in chaste kisses and you darting out before anyone can think twice about why you've been in Professor Choi's office twice [or thrice] in one day.

You do want to be alone with him more, though. You want to see what possibilities lie behind closed doors, the ways you both could show each other your feelings. You want to see where else this could take you two, how it could continue to grow. Where things could head once you two are alone in a space together, with no background noise. No outsiders.

you: are you in your office?

san: sure am!

"San?" You poke your head into his office before sliding in and locking the door. The basement was incredibly [and unusually] empty for a weekday, San's office door and the walls the only thing separating you two from each other.

"Hey." He smiles from his desk, immediately pushing his chair back so he can stand and pull you close. "Wasn't expecting a visit from you right now."

"Sorry." You pout a bit and he shakes his head before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "I should've asked if you were free first."

"Mm, well." He hums. "I've always got time for you, remember?" You giggle. "Is everything okay?"

"Kinda?"

"Kinda? What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He sits back on the edge of his desk, hand pulling you towards him and slotting you in between his legs.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Mhm?" He says in a sing-song tone, curious about what you surprisingly popped in for.

"Can I come over?" His eyes widen a bit; not because he doesn't want you to, no. But because he's been dying to have you over. He's just been waiting until you seemed more ready to take that step.

"Tonight?" You nod, playing with his hands. "Of course you can." He pulls his hands away just to rest them behind your back. "Sure you wanna?"

"I do." He chuckles.

"I'll pick you up this time? Down the street from your building."

"Okay."

"Is that all that's been bothering you?"

"I just wasn't sure how to ask without seeming too eager, or desperate, or—"

"Hey." He laughs a bit, brushing your hair away from your face. "Never that. I've been wanting you over, but I wanted to wait until you seemed more comfortable." You relax in his hold and sink into his touch more, fingers threading through the ends of his hair.

"I wanna stay." You boldly let out, causing San to smile.

"You can stay. Whatever you want. Have more than enough room for you, sweetheart." He leans forward to meet you in a sweet, simple peck. "What time do you want me to come get you?"

"I should finish a few things before leaving."

"Just text me then, hm? I'll come whenever you're ready."

"Okay." You look at him before smirking. "That's all I wanted to talk about, Professor Choi." He chuckles, giving your side a good squeeze while biting his bottom lip.

"You're gonna be the death of me."

"Likewise." You playfully tap his nose before planting a kiss on his lips. "I'll text you later."

"Leaving already?" He pouts as you slowly pry yourself off of him because you're in his office. On campus grounds. You have to, even if you don't want to.

"I gotta get back to work, just like you do." You give him a look before waving by the door. "See you later."

"Mhm." He responds in a sing-song tone, crossing his arms tightly against his chest while he watches you walk out.

The butterflies you give him are insane.

After another long ass day of work and classes, you quickly grab dinner with your friends before rushing off to finish the rest of your assignments. You hop in a long, hot steamy shower— exfoliating and moisturizing like crazy. You strut around in your towel, throwing your toiletries into a huge bag, along with some clothes just in case. 

You can never go wrong with an emergency set of clothes and toiletries, right?

You send San a text to let him know you're about to be ready and throw on a lazy fit, feeling comfortable enough to not have to dress up for him during an occasion like this. It's a set of black wide-legged sweats and a cropped half-zip sweater, slipping into your platform Uggs for extra comfort. You step through your little cloud of perfume before grabbing your bag and heading out.

Ring, ring.

"Hey." You pick up the call, your eyes quickly scanning your surroundings. There isn't anyone in close proximity, but you still feel like someone might've caught onto the phone call coming through. Like someone could be listening, could be nearby, could be onto you.

"Where are you? I'm right outside the lot, leading into the residential street."

"I'm on my way. Someone might see you!"

"Y/N, I promise. No one's out here. This part of the street is pretty dead."

"Okay, but people coming in and out of the buildings?"

"I promise you it's fine and out of view. Hurry. I miss you." You roll your eyes when you hear the slight whine in his tone.

"Choi San, I swear." You mutter his name so lowly, paranoid of someone accidentally hearing you call your professor's name on the phone in passing.

"Mm, when you say my name like that, though." He wears a shit-eating smirk underneath the black mask he's wearing. Truthfully, he does look a little suspect hanging out in his car off to the side of the lot in a hat and black mask. He uses his second car, a Porsche Taycan, that he doesn't really take to campus— usually drives it when he wants to go for a drive down the highway by himself late at night, or when it's time to kick it with the boys. He's certain none of them are lingering around campus since they're always so quick to book it after their last meetings or classes. It's the best way he could conceal himself right now, he thinks.

It's all good.

"I'm coming out the side door. I'll be there in a second." You hastily hang up and tuck your phone in, feeling some kind of relief that you're almost at the stairs that'll lead you to the side—

"Yo!" Felix calls out with Jiung next to him. "Where are you going? We were just coming to bother you." He furrows his brows, eyes shifting to the huge tote bag you're carrying.

"I.. need to go to the lab."

"The lab? Now?" Jiung tilts his head. They're a little confused, but they're also not entirely surprised— people were in and out of the labs doing work at all times of the day. Some were night owls and preferred doing work late nights to avoid fighting over equipment and space during the day. It wasn't uncommon.

What is confusing is your large ass bag, though. For what?

"Yeah, I gotta check on one of the mice. The vet said they looked sick." Jiung and Felix nod as they take the lie. Again.

"Why are you bringing a big ass bag, though? Are you hauling the mice away or something?" Felix snorts.

"No, I have some supplies in here that I'm bringing over. We're building new behavior arenas now that the foundation of the rig is done." Felix shrugs.

"Oh, okay. Do you need us to walk you?"

"No!" You respond a bit too quickly that they're back to giving you weird, confused looks. "No— Sorry." You smile. "I'll be fine. I think Sunwoo has been there anyway. Thank you, though."

"Mm, okay then." Jiung shrugs. "Just let us know if you need us to come get you?" He pops another apple slice in his mouth.

"I will." You wave as you walk through the door and head down the steps in a hurry. 

"Was Y/N being a little weird or..?" Felix asks, but Jiung shrugs.

"Eh, she's probably a little overwhelmed or something." He turns down the hall. "Let's just go see what Eunchae is doing." 

You finally dart out the side door, doing a light jog over the grassy area and taking a shortcut towards the street that leads into the residential area from your building. You see San parked behind another car near the first house on the street, and San can see you making your way over through the rearview mirror. He smiles to himself when you near the car, pulling on the door handle to slide into the passenger's seat. His car smells like a mix of his air freshener, along with a hint of his cologne that you've slowly become obsessed with.

"Hey beautiful." He leans over the middle console and pulls down his mask. He puckers up his lips and it makes you giggle just as you lean in to give him what he wants. He doesn't pull back right away, no. Instead, he deepens the kiss and slips some tongue in, a shaky exhale released in between as his hand comes up to caress your cheek.

"Maybe we should leave." 

"Mhm." San teases as he continues to kiss you, smirking into the kiss. 

"San."

"Just one more." He chuckles before dipping forward and kissing you passionately again. You bite onto your bottom lip when he finally sits back in the driver's seat and rests his head against the headrest, admiring how cute you look in your leggings and hoodie. "You're cute."

"Stop." You giggle and shake your head. "Drive before someone sees us."

"Yes ma'am." He starts up the car and begins to drive to his destination. You're not really sure what to expect since it's your first time going to his place. You knew San was well off, but you didn't know what you were walking into— did he live in a modern, expensive ass apartment? Was it a penthouse? A regular single family home? You'll finally see why Mingi likes to barge in from time to time. "How was your day?" You're pulled out of your thoughts when he chimes in with the question.

"It was okay. I ran into Jiung and Felix as I was leaving." He leans against his window with one hand on the wheel, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Oh? How was that?"

"I don't know? I think they believed me. I said I was heading into lab." San shrugs.

"That's a good reason since it isn't uncommon. I'm sure it's fine, angel." He looks at you before returning his attention to the road in front of him. "It's pretty hot seeing you work so hard in my lab."

"Shut up, Professor Choi." He bites on his bottom lip before slipping his hand on your thigh. He gives it a good squeeze as he continues to drive in silence, the music softly filling the void in the car.

"Did you eat?" You nod.

"Mhm. Just grabbed something from the dining hall."

"Good."

"Did you?" He nods.

"Mhm. Just wanted to make sure you were okay, though."

"I am. Thank you." You watch as the surroundings pass you by while San takes you down towards another neighborhood near campus. A lot of other professors live closeby since the university has housing assistance for them as well. You just hope San's home is one of the select few that's isolated and isn't heavily populated with said group of professors.

When San pulls into his garage, you're a little surprised at the house. You're in awe because you wonder how San makes use of all this space living alone. It's a beautiful single family home, and you're sure the decision to buy this had come from Professor Lee when they had been married. You wonder if he still holds onto those memories, or why he didn't end up moving to another place. Perhaps—

"Y/N?" You snap out of it and turn to San, who has already parked the car and is unbuckling his seatbelt. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was spacing out."

"You sure you're okay?" He chuckles. The both of you step out of the car and head into the hallway that leads straight into his bar and kitchen area first. "I can practically hear you thinking, sweetheart." He kicks off his shoes and you follow suit, San waiting for you before walking deeper into his house. You look up at him and he gives you a small smile, holding out his hand for you to take. "Relax. You can ask me anything." He pulls you flush against him, hands gently rubbing up and down your sides. "Okay?" He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss against your lips, which surely does put you at ease.

"I'm just curious about some stuff."

"Like?" You step into the living room and set your bag down on the couch temporarily. Your eyes roam around, scanning the sleek and simple decorations. It gives off a classy, modern look; room full of brown, white and black themes, wood hints.

"I'm not sure I know how to ask." You rub at your arms while San grabs two wine glasses from the cabinets and sets them down on the island counter.

"Ask away. I won't mind. I think I already know where you're going with it, anyway." You walk towards the island and rest your elbows against the marble countertop. "Is wine good, or do you want something else?"

"Wine is good." You pause, fully taking in what San is wearing as he continues to move around the kitchen. He's casually dressed in black Essentials sweats with a matching black tee. He sets his hat off to the side, running a hand through his soft, black hair. You think San is attractive during the day with his usual button-up top and slacks, but this— this was even more attractive to you and had you buckling at the knees the more you ogled at him. "Don't you get lonely being in this big house? I-I mean, you used to live here with her, right?" You chime in, hoping not to seem too spaced out and in your thoughts again.

"Mhm. I've gotten used to it, though." He says with a soft smile. "By the way, white or red?"

"White, if you have any please." He nods.

"I got you." He digs into his wine cooler beneath the island.

"Why didn't you wanna sell this and buy another house?" He shrugs.

"To be honest, I've thought about it. Every corner of this house used to remind me of her and I'd hate it." He pours wine into your glasses. "But, I really do love the house and the space it gives me. I just flipped it into something I'd be happy and comfortable with, and I've moved past all of that. It just feels like my space now."

"That's good. As long as you're okay. You decorated your home beautifully too, San."

"I am, yeah. Thank you, pretty girl." He smiles and comes around the corner to wrap his arms around you from behind. He kisses the back of your head as you relax in his hold, letting out a small exhale. "Is there anything else you're curious about?"

"Not right now." San chuckles a bit.

"Okay, well. I'll be ready for the next time." He kisses your temple. "Why don't you get comfy so we can relax and watch a movie? Sip on some wine, eat some cheese and crackers." You giggle and turn to face him in his hold.

"You're gonna prep some cheese and crackers, too?"

"Why not?" He chuckles. "Let me take you upstairs so you can get comfortable." You grab your things and take his hand, silently following San up to the second level of his home. There's a little loft that he's converted into a small gaming area— another smaller L-shaped sectional couch nestled against the walls with his gaming consoles on the shelf beneath the TV, board games neatly stacked away. There's a guest room to your right, his office to the left. You peek and find a large bookshelf covering the back wall behind his large desk and computer set up. "Here's my room." He takes you into his large master bedroom; sheets neatly made, large master bathroom off to the right corner of the room. "Bathroom's through there if you need anything." He looks at you. "Or, you can use the guest room if you feel more comfortable doing so."

"Thank you."

"Course. I'll be downstairs, okay?" He kisses you on the lips. You watch as he heads back downstairs to give you some privacy, returning your attention to the interior of his room. It's a little weird when you think that this used to be a space shared by Iseul— she'd be in here all the time, closet partially hers, bed shared with her. You brush off the thoughts and set your things aside before walking into his spotless bathroom to freshen up even though you just took a shower. San's got his own skincare, cologne and other hair products neatly organized off to the side. You complete your nightly routine for your skincare and slip into more appropriate pajamas in an effort to wind down and get cozy for bedtime. When you step out of the bathroom, you hear the tv echoing from downstairs, along with what sounds like San humming to a song. You head down the steps to see San setting up the last bits of his cute cheese and crackers display, wiping off the crumbs on his island counter. "Hey. You all good?"

"Mhm." You giggle, following him to the couch. You plop onto the open space just as San jogs back to bring over the wine he poured earlier. "What're we watching?"

"Good question." He says, flipping through the channels while sitting next to you and sipping on his wine. "Should we put on something cute or..?"

"Have you ever watched Worst Ex Ever?"

"Oh— ah, okay. So we're going the true crime route." You laugh and shake your head.

"I watched that, but I wanted to watch the other installment, Worst Roommate Ever." He nods and throws it on.

"Yeah, I'm all for it!" He kicks off the first episode and leans back against the couch, one arm draped over you from behind, giving you the opportunity to scoot closer to him.

As the episode continues, you find that San is actually really interested in these things— engaging in conversation about your thoughts, why certain events happened in the episode, motives, thought processes— you love how he carries the conversation with you. You enjoy watching the show a little too much with him that time seems to fly right on by despite the hour-long episodes. You'd laugh and giggle when San pouts and whines when he's guessed wrong, resulting in you two sharing cute, little intimate kisses in between. After you both finish your wine and go through most of his charcuterie board, you snuggle up closer to San. You've got your legs folded up on the couch, with San's hand grazing your thigh every time he dips forward for a kiss. You've gone through 2 and a half episodes before you're yawning and giving San tired eyes, so he pauses the show; hand gently rubbing at your thigh.

"Tired?" You nod.

"Kinda tired, yeah." He chuckles and shuts off the TV.

"Let's get upstairs then." You help him clean up the wine glasses and the board even though he insisted he had everything under control. But, as he steps back and takes a moment to watch you rinse out the dishes and load them into the dishwasher, he finds his heart skipping a few beats. He likes seeing this; he likes seeing you, in his kitchen, as if you were always meant to be in this home. With him. It just felt so.. natural and domestic. It's been so long since he's genuinely felt that way. You give him a small smile when you've finished, beginning to climb up the steps as San shuts off his lights and makes sure all the doors are locked. You head into his room and start to brush your teeth, San following suit next to you. You don't even think twice about the whole thing, even as you walk towards his bed with him. He pulls back the covers and you slide in, staring at the ceiling above while he cozies up to you.

"San."

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm ready to ask the next question. But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to." You turn towards him and lay on your stomach. He chuckles a bit and brushes your hair back, reassuring you to continue on. You said you'd wait for him to open up, but you couldn't help it— you were curious, and you felt like you were getting deeper into this thing with San. Maybe it was time.

"I'll answer, but I might not go into detail. How about that?" He already knows where this is going. And with you, he wants to be as transparent as possible without having to relive that part of his life again. Despite his feelings for you, he still needs to hold space for himself especially with that aspect. He doesn't wanna undo the work he's done on himself.

"Okay."

"Go for it, angel."

"What was your relationship like with her?" He lets out a breath as he rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the pillow. 

"Mm, well. I'd say it was good until she realized it wasn't me she wanted this entire time. We were one of those couples who moved quickly and unfortunately, it just didn't work out well for us at all. We ended just as quickly as we blossomed." You look at him.

"So, when did you meet and when did everything happen?"

"We met in grad school. We started going out maybe a year after we had met and been good friends. Me, her and Yunho were always together. Another year after that, we're married. Things were good even though things were moving fast. Parents liked each other, we bought this house. It felt like things were falling into place. We were doing a lot of 'future' talks, even thought about kids at one point." You continue to listen intently while San goes on, his hand tracing faint shapes on your clothed back. "But then, the postdoc years happened. We were both busy, but me especially. I hadn't realized it then, but I was putting work and the lab before anything and anyone else. I kinda can't even blame her for acting the way she did because I should've paid more attention to her as her husband."

"You can't blame yourself, San." 

"I don't." He smiles a bit. "Not anymore, at least. In general, I should've just paid more attention." He lets out a small sigh. "I knew her and Yunho had gotten close so I didn't think much of it when I started to see them hanging out more without me, or starting things without me. The busier I got, the more she leaned on Yunho. He was there for her when I wasn't. That's what she wanted and needed the most, and he was there to provide that for her. He was able to." 

"Did she ever talk to you about it?"

"She was the type who couldn't communicate well. She'd harbor everything until that one thing triggers her and makes her blow up." You nod. "Whenever I felt tension or whenever I felt her being off, I'd ask, and her response was always 'i'm just tired' or 'too many things going on with my project, it's overwhelming.' There were only a few occasions when she told me she felt like I wasn't there for her enough. I wanted to fix it, but she brushed it off and said it was fine, that this was just our life together." San shakes his head. "Not once did I ever wanna give up on her. I wanted to fix it. I tried everything to be better for her, but I was too late, I guess. I found out about her and Yunho seeing each other behind my back, I called the divorce. She tried running back a few times but we'd always end up worse than the last time. We'd yell, we'd argue. I'd be hurt all over again, re-opening that same wound over and over again. Had me thinking I had a chance to actually fix us, only to be shot down. Then later, her and Yunho eloped and got married."

"Fuck." You mutter. "Sorry— I just, I don't even know what to say."

"The worst part is that she blamed me and painted me to be the bad guy. It got so toxic, it really messed me up. She would tell people this false narrative that I always fought with her and that I was unfair. My priorities were everywhere. She told people she properly broke it off before seeing Yunho when that wasn't the case. I dunno why she said and did all those things. Maybe she was angry at me for not trying the way Yunho did? Maybe she just hated me?"

"You and Yunho are two very different people, and you did try to fix it. She just wanted to be a brat about it. She wanted to have her cake and eat it, too." You frown. "I'm sorry, San."

"For what, baby?" He laughs a bit. "It is what it is, it happened and I'm past it."

"Yeah, but still." You play with his hair. "What was Yunho doing in all of this?"

"Denying the affair even though I caught them. He kept trying to apologize but there was always a 'but.' I mean, what else can he do? That's his girl so he's going with it."

"Sick." You sigh. "Can't believe them. They don't deserve you anyway."

"You're right. They don't. I have my people by my side." He taps the tip of your nose. "Now, you."

"You do have me." You lay your head down on the pillow while looking at him.

"I do?" He teasingly leans forward, inches away from your lips.

"Mhm."

"Good. That's all I need." His eyes shift down to your lips briefly before shifting back up to you. "Is there anything else you wanna ask?"

"Hm. Do you really mean that?"

"What? That you're all I need?" You nod. "I don't lie. Ever." He chuckles, caressing your cheek sweetly.

"Just kinda hard to believe hearing it from you."

"That's okay. I mean—" He whispers, pressing light, feathery kisses to your cheeks, corner of your lips. "I can show you instead, if you'd let me?"

"Show me." You whisper back, tilting your head back to give San more access to your neck, to you. One second, he's kissing up on your neck with your hands tangled in the ends of his hair; the next, your tongues are fighting for dominance in a heated kiss. Everything feels so calculated, so full of genuine emotion and desire. San's hands travel up your shirt, massaging your breasts before letting his thumb play around with your nipples. You let out a breathy moan in between kisses, back arching in response to his touch. He carefully removes your shirt and tosses it aside, mouth now latching onto one hardened bud. His tongue flicks around, working in circular motions before pulling back with a pop— earning a louder moan to slip from your lips, goosebumps rising on your skin. He repeats the motions on the other, taking his time to lick and suck around your nipple before pulling back. 

San is quick to reattach his lips to yours; this kiss holding more fervor, more intensity, as his hand slides down to completely slide your bottoms off. You work to remove his shirt, the both of you bare in a matter of seconds.

Clothes littering his bedside.

He tries not to break the kiss, even as he crawls on top of you, fingers dipping into your heat and in between your folds to get a sense of how wet you already are. 

"Oh my god." You cry. San's cock is painfully hard, hitting your thigh while he continues to pepper your jaw, neck, with kisses.

"Can I have you, baby?" He whispers in your ear. 

"Y-yes." You can barely make out from the overwhelming desire, excitement. Thrill.

This was actually happening.

San hovers slightly to slide his nightstand drawer out, but you stop him before he can grab a condom. 

"I'm on the IUD." You shake your head. "Don't need it."

"You sure?" He asks once more for final confirmation, and you give it to him with a nod. He pauses, eyes skimming through your features again before pecking you on the lips, hand coming down to stroke his length. You drool at the sight, admiring how perfectly long and thick he is. He smirks, tapping his heavy cock against your pussy a few times. 

Just to be a fucking tease.

He starts slow— pressing his cock in between your folds, gliding up and down. 

"Mm— god." He huffs. "You feel perfect already." San watches the way your eyes roll back, mouth open as you let out small whines and whimpers at the feeling. He nudges your clit with his tip as he continues to slide up and down, earning a loud mewl to release from your lips. His other hand is now gripping your jaw to force you to maintain eye contact with him— it's not a harsh grip, but it's enough to keep you clenching around nothing. Enough to keep you writhing for more underneath him. He rubs the tip against your sensitive nub directly, another shaky moan releasing from your lips. 

"Fuck, San." You hiss, feeling the pleasure build right at your core with the way he's rubbing against you; legs cocked all the way open for him.

"So beautiful. Think I can make you cum like this, angel?" You take your hand and wrap it around his base, letting him thrust into your hand as he continues his movements between your folds. "Feels so fucking good. Can't even imagine how you'd feel wrapped around me. Hm?" He hums, head kicking back in pleasure while trying to maintain his composure. Because fuck, he can feel himself dangerously close to the edge, but he's hanging on so he can feel you— all of you.

"San, San— oh god, San." You cry repeatedly, feeling your clit ready to explode. His tip is hitting it at the right pace, hitting you in all the right spots at the right pace. You move your hips upward, grinding into his length as he continues; mouth slacked open from the overwhelming pleasure. "You're gonna make me cum." 

"Yeah? Use me. Wanna see how pretty you look when you cum." He stills and watches as you use his cock to reach your first orgasm of the night, pressing him down with the right pressure onto your heat as you grind at a quicker pace— finally toppling over the edge. His eyes glow when he watches your mouth slack open from the silent moan you release, hands coming down to ease your twitching body. "God, you're perfect." He presses feathery kisses across your jaw, chin.

Neck.

Coming right below to your sweet spot below the ear.

"Ready for me?" He asks near your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe and giving you chaste kisses on said sweet spot. You nod, giving him the green light to move further. He lines himself at your entrance before gently pushing himself in, loud moans escaping the more he buries himself to the hilt. "Baaaby." San's moan drags out as he eases himself into you. "Shit, you're so tight." He slowly pumps in and out, eyes glued to his cock as you coat it with your slickness. "Feeling okay?"

"Mhm. Feels so full." You almost whine. His hands are now pressed onto your inner thighs to make sure you keep yourself open for him. He rolls his hips into you as he hovers over your body and locks you into another kiss. He doesn't waste any time picking up his pace, the way you whine and beg, beg and whine— it drives him crazy. 

"Take me. You can do it, sweetheart." His thumb presses down on your bottom lip, tongue licking into your mouth just as he devours you in a sloppy, wet kiss. You let out a strangled, lewd moan when he starts pounding into you harder, deeper; sounds of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls. Pussy squelching. San's name being repeated like a song, a mantra.

The noise is nothing short of pornographic.

"Please. More. Give it to me." You plead. "Feels too good."

"Shit— Y/N, jesus fucking christ." San groans when he slowly pulls out just to the tip, creamy mess lathering the top of his dick like icing. "Gonna make me cum." He pounds back into you at an angle where he can reach all your spots. He lowers himself back down to kiss you, fucking into you while expertly rubbing away at your aching clit.

San is so, so good.

"Want you to cum in me, San."

"Yeah? You did so well for me, baby. I'll fill you up real good. Just how you want it."' After two, three more hard thrusts, you find yourself unraveling for the second time. And this time, it comes crashing down harder, your walls squeezing and constricting around him. You're digging your nails deep into San's back, moaning into his mouth as he continues to chase his high. "I'm cumming— fuck." He lets out a loud, breathy moan as he stills; milking every last bit of himself into you. He buries himself in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses to the surface before coming up to kiss you softly on the lips. "You okay, baby?" He smiles.

"Mhm." He presses a few more repeated, tender kisses to your lips before running off to the bathroom to help clean you up. You lay back on your tummy as San slips himself back under the sheets, sitting back against the headboard. He sighs, black glasses perched on his nose while the sheets are pulled up to his hips. You watch as he pulls his laptop and sits it on his lap before typing away, letting out a small giggle at the way he's working.

"Do you always work naked like that? Especially after what just happened?" You tease. San smirks before giving your head a playful but gentle rub.

"Only if you're around."

"You're sick." He laughs.

"Why, is it distracting?" You giggle and shake your head, shoving your face further down into the pillow to avoid eye contact.

"No." You mumble into the pillow. 

"Then, why can't you look at me?" You peek from the pillow, catching San looking straight down at you with a small smile on his face. "Gotta beg for a kiss, too?" You roll your eyes and shift upwards to give him a peck on the lips before sinking back down into the sheets. "Good girl."

"In all seriousness though, do you always have a ton of work to catch up on at night?"

"Mm, I just prefer to catch up on things at night. Sometimes, it's easier to get through it when I'm winding down." He lets out a small sigh as he continues to scroll through his inbox and reply to a few emails. He also needs to work on some more grant-related things that he's been kinda putting off. "No biggie, though." He looks at you. "Getting sleepy now?"

"A bit. Good thing I caught up on everything before leaving."

"How'd you know you'd be busy?" He laughs a bit.

"You're so annoying. Plus, I'd rather not do my homework around you."

"Why? I can be of help."

"No, Professor Choi. Leave me to my own work." You mutter as you turn the other way and shut your eyes for a little longer. San lets out a small laugh before typing away on his laptop. It isn't long before you've stopped moving and he hears your soft breathing against the pillow, causing him to smile to himself. He leans over to press a kiss against your head, whispering a quick 'goodnight beautiful' before resuming his work. He works for another 15 minutes before he feels exhaustion taking over his body. He shuts off his laptop and sets it aside, snuggling under the covers and pulling you close as he quickly drifts off to sleep with you in his arms.

When the next morning comes, you wake up from the best sleep you've had in awhile. The sheets are keeping you warm and cozy, the mattress feels perfect against your body— everything feels perfect, except there's no San and you're yearning for him already.

You've barely been awake and all you want is San.

Luckily for you, you hear his footsteps as he comes up the steps right at that moment. When he turns into the room, he's already dressed in today's attire: a cream-colored long-sleeve henley top and jeans.

"Hey." San sits on the edge of the bed and runs his soft hand up and down your bare back. You look at him lazily, threatening to fall back asleep with the way his fingers lightly run across the surface.

"Hi." You look at him sweetly and he feels his heart melt. He could get used to this.

"Going back to sleep?"

"Mm." You stretch a bit and sit up, grabbing the covers to shield your naked body. "I should probably get up and get ready to head back."

"Do you have to?" He whines.

"Yes." You giggle. "My friends are probably gonna try and bother me before class. And in case you've forgotten, sir, I have to help Sunwoo fix the 2P for our work in your lab."

"Sexy."

"You're too much." You tease, making San chuckle. "Do you have meetings in between class today?"

"Mm, yeah. A few. I have to meet with Chris and Jongho about this ongoing collaboration discussion and some last minute symposium things, then I have to meet with some donors."

"Goodluck."

"Thank you, baby." He caresses your chin before kissing your forehead. "Come downstairs when you're done getting ready."

"Okay." You stretch as San heads to his office really quickly before heading back down to the kitchen. You strut to bathroom to wash up and get ready for your day, throwing on the same outfit you had on when San picked you up. After gathering your things and fixing San's bed, you head downstairs and find that San's got a cup of coffee and a breakfast plate fixed for you. He's standing near the counter, sipping his coffee while scrolling through his phone.

"Breakfast?" He smiles at you before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in for kiss.

"Thank you."

Even though things feel too good to be true, you could definitely get used to this.

—read 6.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension

[howtheavengerswould]

how would the avengers react when avenger! reader is able to lift thor’s hammer?

requests open!

how the avengers would react...

𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍'𝙎 𝙃𝘼𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍? (IM TRYING TO INSERT PICTURES BUT IT WONT WORK)

Thor was most likely the most confused. What started with training ended in deafened silence as you had simply caught his hammer from midair. He would try to call the hammer back, but it simply stayed in your grip, your own shocked eyes meeting his. He would laugh, clapping his hands together and staring pointedly at your grip on the hammer, before striding up to you and plucking it from your hands. His ego was definitely bruised, not that he'd let anyone know.

Steve always knew you had the capacity to do it, you simply never tried. It was something he was curious of--who exactly would be deemed as worthy, but he had a guess, that if anyone was, it'd be you. You were definitely the nicest of the group, and he wasn't very shocked when you had lifted it from the table at one of Tony's parties. He noticed, however, how you'd stared at your hands like you'd just made a miracle, and patted you on the back, letting you know that it wasn't that surprising, and that you were indeed worthy of holding the legendary hammer.

Tony had been there when Steve had seen you lift the hammer, and his first instinct was to play a prank on the rest of the team. He'd drunkenly invite you over to his side of the couch, brazenly whispering in your ear his idea: "You should put the hammer on top of..." he'd cut himself off with laughter, but would finish his sentence, nearly doubled over, "their stuff." It would take a hot second for you to figure out quite what he meant, but when you realised, it was enough to send the two of you into a fit of giggles.

Natasha was the first victim of you and Tony's antics. The spy always woke up earlier than anyone else for training, and walking into the training room the next morning, she'd find her catsuit stuck under the hammer. Of course, no one was awake to hear the frustrated pleas of the Black Widow--other than you and Tony, of course, hiding away in his workshop, and watching from a camera. Natasha, ever the attentive woman, would spot the new camera, and march herself down into Tony's workshop... and kindly 'ask' for you to move it. She half expected Thor to be with Tony, but when she'd seen you, she managed to put two and two together. She was proud of you, of course... after the frustration and mild silent treatment ended.

Clint was next, and shortly following Natasha, he would find his bow trapped under the hilt of Mjolnir. He nearly had a fit, stomping with mild annoyance towards an innocent Thor's room, who had been so preoccupied with his findings of 'video games' that he hadn't even noticed his hammer's dissapearance. Thor, now the victim of Clint's morning annoyance, would try to eagerly rope the archer into playing with him. The pair would only be found later that night, passed out over chips and a few broken controllers. (...when Clint did find out who exactly had trapped his bow, he would laugh outwardly, and then whisper a good-natured warning in your ear, "Don't do it again, or I'm putting you in one of those holding cells until the next person finds you.")

Bruce was, of course, the unfortunate last member of Tony's incredible prank ideas. He would find the door to his lab jammed shut by Mjolnir, but of course, the culprit hadn't exactly left the scene of the crime. You'd been setting it up when he had stumbled upon you, five minutes earlier to his usual arrival time, and simply stared in shock at the sight of you holding the hammer. "So... have you been able to do that the whole time, or is that new?" You'd laugh it off together, and the hammer would definitely be used as a party trick in the future.

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

more modern au headcanons for @now-thats-an-oof

first one here

Jayce and Viktor's favorite guilty pleasure is all the crime/science shows like CSI, Bones, X-Files. Stuff that requires a healthy amount of disbelief because it's more entertaining that way, rather than the shows that pretend to know science or are obnoxious about science. They used to have a drinking game, but after one episode of CSI Vegas they were so decidedly intoxicated + the hangover was enough for them to never play it again.

Also, their TV set is a projector against their wall. They also pirate everything, use VPNs. Neither of them pay for any subscriptions, all mooch off of Caitlyn's accounts when they can't find something they want or the quality being pirated isn't good. (Mel and Elora locked them out of their account)

They live in a studio apartment on the first floor right outside their University. It's nice, low-priced and they don't spend a lot of time in it anyways with school and lab work. Jayce's favorite feature is the fireplace, Viktor's is the spacious shower.

They do not use candles: sets off Viktor’s asthma. Instead they have a modified (by them!) diffuser with scents like eucalyptus, peppermint, lavender that helps with breathing + won’t set off an attack. (He still does his treatments, though! Just wants a nice smelling home.)

Ximena lives about forty minutes away; they visit her every weekend. When Jayce and Viktor first got together, Viktor was afraid to meet her (he has no family for Jayce to meet, and never got far enough in other relationships to meet parents) but she took him in instantly.

Now, Ximena insists Viktor come home with Jayce every time. Sometimes she even calls Viktor even when Jayce isn't there. She sends meals (as all moms do!) with them to take, but with the recipe card so they can make it together.

Adding onto that, Jayce cooks, Viktor bakes. Both have used Ximena's recipe cards often, but hers are just better (Jayce thinks she's hiding a secret ingredient, Viktor thinks she's magic) (one of them is right!)

Neither of them are big readers for fun, but both enjoy scientific journals, reports, short stories, as long as they aren't science fiction. Unlike with the TV shows, the bad science just annoys them. For fiction, Jayce enjoys adventure/suspense, Viktor enjoys mystery/suspense. Neither like horror, or romance-only, but enjoy a good slow burn mixed with their preferred genres.

Their greatest achievement was the modern version of whatever the distinguished innovators competition was-they both got to ride in a plane (1st class, paid for by the school!) to present their prototype for a water & air solar powered purifier to the country's top mechanics board. Mel (political science major, business minor (in Masters programs) also helped them register the patents and trademarks for it.

Speaking of Mel, other majors/minors include: Caitlyn (Legal Studies Major, Criminal Justice minor, undergrad) Sky (Environmental Science, Masters) Vi (Exercise Science major, undergrad) Elora (Business Analytics, Masters). Ekko and Powder are taking a gap year.

Jayvik have major beef with the barista at the coffeeshop closest to their apartment. Don't ask them why. (He hit on Vik in front of Jayce while also being ableist. Both of them cursed him out in their respective first languages).

Jayce and Viktor paint and sketch to unwind. Jayce sketches (likes charcoal pencils) Viktor paints (likes watercolors). Favorite subjects? Each other. (yes, they have painted and sketched each other naked.)

Failed hobbies of theirs include: crocheting (Jayce was slightly more successful, though the scarf he made for Vik was a little too long) Photography (somehow Viktor's fingertips make it into his shots, Jayce can never get the focus right) Dance (Jayce stepped on everyone's feet, Viktor only likes to sway and stand on Jayce's feet) Plants (?) (They are only allowed plants that can survive nuclear explosions now. Sky banned anything harder than a spider plant to care for from their home.)

Favorite Bar: The Last Drop (you know I had to do it). They (as well as their small group of friends) are the only academy students yet to be kicked out. Mostly for good behavior, but also because favoritism.

Things they don't fight about: Health, safety, opinions (they share most of the same ones anyways) family, friends.

Things they "fight" about: the right amount of sugar in a coffee, if Viktor needs wool socks, if Jayce needs to replace his work boots, the best kind of cookie (the great double-chocolate chip vs m&m cookie war)

The thing they actually fought about (serious version): Viktor accepting help/Jayce learning the right way to help him that wasn't diminishing Viktor's abilities. They fought for a week-still sharing a bed and eating together, working, but all silent. Finally when they came to an agreement-Viktor would stop ignoring the need for help until it was too painful to ask, Jayce would help by knowing the real signs, or doing just what Viktor asks him to help with, rather than what he assumes Viktor needs.

[kamaluhkhan]

(more info under the cut....)

HER CANINE TEETH IN THE SIDE OF MY NECK (werewolf!vi x vampire slayer!reader)

slightly canon-divergent....basically set during pit fighter!vi arc except in this world we've got vampires!! and werewolves!!!!

so reader is also a pit fighter -- they literally meet for the first time when they're competing underground. the next morning vi wakes up with a wicked hangover in some stranger's apartment and that stranger is you! and your dog! vi doesn't realize this yet but you saved her drunk ass from a vampire anyways, you invite vi to train with you and some other girls and offer to patch her up after fights. she's reluctant but you're persistent ("why're you being nice to me. are you some kind of guardian angel?" "nah. i just have a thing for strays. now hold still unless you want to bleed to death.") so little by little, vi moves away from the whole lone wolf thing; she's still very scared to let people in after what happened with caitlyn, but you're a much needed bit of levity and light in this world of darkness and monsters ("whoever wins the most fights tonight picks up the tab for the bar." "you're on, killer." *later that night* "guess i'll be picking up the tab," you smile, your lip splitting open even more. "i'll still take care of it, angel. lemme take care of you first.") vi maybe has a crush on you that she tries very hard to keep secret bc of who she is.....while you're also head over heels for her and trying to keep the whole vampire slayer thing under wraps....perhaps unsuccessfully, but i don't want to spoil it hehe.

LIKE SOME MISPLACED JOAN OF ARC (spiderverse au)

vi is spider-gwen spider-woman! she's in college, plays drums in a band, has an internship at some lab and spends a lot of her time saving the city but there's the lingering guilt that she couldn't save you (canon event: losing their first love). one day she's fighting some villain and....a portal opens? and she's transported into what seems to be another universe?? she does to her apartment and when she knocks on the door, her heart almost stops -- because you're the one who opens it. turns out in this universe, you're spider-woman, dealing with some demons of your own (two canon events rolled into one: losing their first love and not being able to save the life of a police captain....and your vi was an enforcer). basically you have to work together to get vi back home and fix the multiverse and also keep doing spider-person stuff bc it's new york and the crime never stops (you both admit *to yourselves* that it's nice to have someone to share the responsibility....i have this idea and it's a scene that i wrote in another fic basically vi is taking a shower in your bathroom and you go in to drop off a towel or something but oh no! your roommate needs something and since vi is dead in your universe you can't have anyone see her so you have to hide in the shower with vi and it's....obvi very intimate....like vi needs your help washing her hair or something bc she's got this terrible bruise from being thrown around by doc ock and you're maybe a bit too eager help) anyways you fall for each other through all this chaos even though you both really really don't wanna go through losing the other and it seems like it's inevitable one way or another. but, fuck the universe, right?

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Ep3 - "Bliss" Breakdown

oh

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 4) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

So that's what Victor's image in the credits was meant to represent the whole time. A still of him inside the last memory he has of his home, his perspective on the window before it all went to shit.

I get that it might have been obvious the opening was a flashback given the election was still ongoing and given we get to see Vic's friend, the one who was shot by Sofia, still alive, but they also peppered enough bits that hade me fully convinced we were just watching Victor's present life when he was out of earshot from Oz. The bombs were a genuine shocker.

Credit to @davidmann95 for pointing out that the rooftop pebbles are Victor's equivalent of the Crime Alley pearls, an extremely important detail to add to the other Batman parallels Victor's gonna be shown having in this episode.

I'm loving a lot of the choices that go into Oz's outfits and specifically what kind of outfits he wears around specific characters, the whole chameleon thing he's got going personality-wise reflective in his choice of wear, and I like how this extends to the people around him and his choice of vehicle and base and everything. He may not wear fine suits everywhere and for all occasions, but this is very much a Penguin concerned about fashion particularities and branding and ways to dress up himself and the people acting in his behalf.

This scene where Oz pays Victor is funny, but it importantly sets up an element that's gonna come into play regarding their relationship by the end of the episode, that is how hard Oz projects on Victor and how much of his insecurity and need for affection comes through in his attempts to deal with the kid. Two episodes in after all the shit Victor's done for Oz and it's the first time we're seeing Oz talk about giving him a salary. It's not an unusual comedy beat, sadly not a real life one either, but the thing is, Oz is not a cheapskate, far from it. Across the last two episodes, he's been very quick to fork over cash to smooth over negotiations, and he's more than happy to pay the kid and praise him for demanding double (even if he shuts down the idea), it just genuinely never occurred to him until the moment that, right, the kid whose job is driving me around and burying bodies and putting his neck on the line for me needs a paycheck, of course, he's gonna get a nice thousand per week because I'm a good boss who does that kind of thing.

Nice little reminder of the class disparity element of the show, in how Sofia looks at Oz's set-up and dismisses as tacky garbage, while Graciela calls it bougie and thinks Victor's basically set if his boss is letting him crash in a place like that. Also illustrated in the money scene earlier, because from what I've researched, a thousand per week is an average salary for a driver in New Jersey (which is where this Gotham is located), and despite Oz calling it a start, Victor's already shocked at how much money Oz is paying per week. Just these totally different conceptions of what money and good living entail across the board for our characters. SPEAKING OF totally different standards,

So it turns out that Sofia has been planning her own meteoric ascension into ruler of Gotham for about as long as Oz, and more effectively at that, and if there's anything this episode will establish for sure about her, it's that Sofia Falcone is an actual supervillain the way Oz is still some ways from being. Alberto's shipment wasn't the ticket for the two of them, just for Oz, and Sofia just needed him to drive her around and open the door once more.

Oz the whole time basically happy with running a club and pushing dope out of a warehouse to the point of crying to her in the end that it was the best thing that ever happened to him, while Sofia here casually unveils a Gus Fring hidden meth lab with a mushroom forest full of Arkham Super Drugs and another Batman Villain working out in the backroom to produce them. Oz spent the last years ass kissing and spinning plates and seizing his own little levers of power all over Gotham, while Sofia was enduring soul-redefining torment entrenched inside the Supervillain Factory of the world where she would discover and pillage the tool that would let her conquer the city in one swoop.

A tool that she debuts before the underworld with an intimidating yet casual speech, above the city writhing before her and falling by the minute into her grasp, before casually leaving and telling her grunt to wrap up negotiations for her. The Riddler showed Gotham what a supervillain is and can do, a call to the maladjusted victims and freaks everywhere to grab their masks and bombs and get in the action because this is how the world works now that Batman exists, but Sofia here shows us not just a different way the rot spreads across the city, not just a way in which Arkham can become the other force filling in the power vacuum, but that being a supervillain is also a business model every respectable criminal in the city is gonna have to get on board with real fucking quick.

I love/hate that we get to have a few scenes of Sofia and Oz working together and how good they are, glad they could at least give us those before everything gets turbofucked forever further.

I definitely encourage you to keep up with the Penguin podcast, and particularly the latest episode where they talk with Rhenzy Feliz and fluency consultant Marc Winski, where they go over the thought and care that went into depicting Victor's stutter and incorporating it into the character and show, it's a very insightful conversation.

Oz's empathy for people with disabilities shows up in him complaining at the waiter for speaking over Victor, and later in their scene with Johnny Viti when he berates him for calling her a psycho, and is consistent with lots of other little moments where it's come up. I like that this is a consistent thing with Oz, and not just one of the things he does for show - even when he's complaining about Sofia to Victor, he never disparages her based on mental illness, he calls her uptight and elusive and a problem he wants off his back, but he never insults her the way all the other mobsters do.

Even in the bathroom scene by the end of the episode, where he does lose his patience and rushes Victor to explain himself, only happens after they've reached a boiling point. I do think it's important, for his character and role, that Oz maintains some important principles, even if they are still self-serving.

Again, love how the show knows just when to drop the Penguin name to maximize hurt on Oz.

What a fucking show Farrell and Miloti and Feliz give us in this episode.

I said back when the trailers dropped that Sofia Falcone looked like she was going to be the prestige crime drama protagonist that this show would have if it wasn't about The Penguin, and that's the vibe you get out of these two together. She is the tormented HBO leading lady and he is the charismatic side character, he is her driver with a wacky voice and face that bites it tragically to motivate her revenge / bites it after the reveal of how he backstabbed her. Which is exactly where the Falcones liked him, that funny guy in a supporting role who drives them around and runs their club and digs up their graves, and it's partially how their last scene in the episode plays out.

"Yeah I know I ruined your entire life and led to irreparable damage to your mind and sanity and reputation and all that, but I really wanted a little piece of the action as a nightclub owner, is that so bad?" is a confession that Oz only survives because he's the main character. In any other show, him bearing the depths of his embarassing pathetic soul to Sofia like that would be the last thing he does before dying, tragically or cathartically.

But to his credit, it worked. Sofia actually sheds a tear for him. It's the first time Oz has seemed genuinely honest with her, and more importantly, it's the first time anyone has been honest with Sofia ever since she got back from Arkham. She really has no one else she can possibly trust but the least trustworthy person on the planet. Who on Earth could possibly be willing to make an ass of themselves before her like that if they weren't being truthful?

Lauren LeFranc: You know, I think Oz is a bit of a walking contradiction and I think he deeply believes what he believes in that moment. I think he genuinely feels that way. Also understands the benefit of her being on his side at the same time. Right? Like, if she doesn't believe in him, their operation currently goes to hell. Not to say that he's playing that up, I think that is a moment of genuine emotion from him. But I also think for a man like him, he's not quite sure where it begins and ends. He doesn't believe that it's bullshit. That doesn't mean that it's not. Like, I don't know if he can even identify it or if, honestly, if Oz takes the time to unpack that. He's not a guy who's like, "Hmm, let me think about my actions today.", you know? - The Penguin Podcast: Episode 3

I'm extremely curious as to what the Sofia-Oz dynamic is gonna look like in the rearview. Does he have enough of a lid on his temper to fake that masterfully being offended on Sofia's behalf while playing her attack dog? Does he genuinely regret that she got sent to Arkham over whatever he did? I think this and the ending scene go a long way in pending towards either way and that's interesting to me. Even if 90% of what he says is bullshit there's some of that regret / kinship that feels genuine

I am very curious to see what becomes of Eve and what more will we learn about her. She seems to be Oz's second-in-command when it comes to businesses he does with her and the girls, and I like that the girls and Victor form a personal squad for Oz (and crucially, he's promising all of them a bigger slice of the pie when he becomes a big shot, and just as crucially, all of them have massive targets on their back right now).

It is genuinely funny how appalled and offended Oz is, at the idea that maybe the kid he roped into this with a gun to the head only stuck around out of fear, not because the kid thinks he's a great guy giving him a chance. I call him the Michael Scott of crime and I mean it. But like most funny things about the Penguin it also has something sad and lonely and pathetic and human about it, the ever present disconnect between the gentleman he wants to be and the thug he acts like.

Like with the salary thing, it just did not cross his head at any moment prior to this, not when he threatened to kill the people he cared about or openly argued with Vic whether to shoot him and stuff him in a trunk, not when threatening to gut him like a fish for messing up or spilling his secrets or telling him to lie with corpses, that Vic was sincerely scared of him and his power and did not leave because he feared this known gangster would do exactly what he said he was going to do. To Oz, doing those things to "his guy" now would be unthinkable, but the question that Vic wanted to leave never even popped in his mind.

And it makes him genuinely upset. That scene at the bar, where he is fully alone, sad and tired with his drink, tired from all the plates he's had to spin and all the indignities he's endured and still endures, tired from all the hats he's had to wear, and sad because the only person so far he's been able to let down his guard around, the one person with whom he could at least wear a hat he liked just bailed on him.

Of course he'd never kill Vic for just wanting to leave, once he realizes that this is actually a factor in how Victor views him and obviously he'd be a bad boss if he did that. Of course he gets angry at Victor for wanting to throw away an opportunity given to him that Oz would have (and probably has) killed for, he's giving Victor the kind of help he desperately wishes he got and he's gonna throw it away? Of course he gets shocked at being reminded Victor is a guy with needs, a guy that Oz holds lethal power over, and not just a kid version of Oz that he can live out his Rex Calabrese fantasy by helping out and mentoring. And of course, none of the cruel and hurtful things he says to Victor before he leaves would sting if there wasn't just enough of a bitter truth to them, or at least, enough of it to stick with Victor.

What an excellent scene Victor's panic attack was, totally get why it was the editor's favorite

I was waiting for a Victor-centric episode and was not dissappointed, this is the episode where he first comes on his own as a character and we see how crucially important he is to the show, the from-the-bottom ground floor perspective on everything that Reeves and LeFranc have repeteadly defined the project around. I love getting to see such an on-the-ground perspective of how fucking monstrous Riddler's plan was, and the kind of lives it ruined. This poor kid thrust headfirst into a Batman/Robin origin story and situation.

It's like Feliz said in the podcast, the end of the episode is the first time we've ever seen Victor, and maybe the first time Victor's ever seen himself, outside of survival mode, outside of simply living to try and get to next hour and do what his parents/Oz tell him to, which is a painfully real state to be in for anyone who's dealt with poverty growing up or is dealing with poverty right now. It's the first time he really has an opportunity to decide on his own what he's going to do on his own. As much as we may know he's making a doomed choice, that he really should just hop on the first bus out of Gotham and join his girlfriend in the sun, well, he's a Batman character, he doesn't get to do that.

Victor wants to live his life and protect himself and the people he loves and make good choices and be a good person, but on a deep fundamental level, he just wants his family back, he wants his dad back, he wants to do right by them more so than by himself, even if that means doing things they would find detestable. Like the son of a doctor, a son who now chooses to inflict violence every night if it means he can avenge their memory, here we have the son of a nurse presented with a choice: He gets to honor the intentions of his parents by dying as a well-meaning decent nobody like they did, or he gets to make up for the shame of how they died by living a good life, one which was denied to them, by surviving and thriving as a criminal. He gets to honor their ideals, or get back at the shameful cruel reality of how they died, but he cannot do both. So he makes his choice.

Oz, in this episode, burns nearly every single bridge he has: with the Falcone family, with the Maronis, and with Sofia, and he even does it with Victor. If Victor hadn't come back, Oz would have died on that parking lot, and still Oz is ecstatic that his guy's come back, because all he wants is for someone to like him enough to stick around with him. Victor is not so sure he's not in for a horrible time now, but in his own way, he also burned his bridges, and he also got what he wanted.

Okay Vic, you wanted dad to not take shit from others and shoot for a better life, you got a dad who will teach you to do just that. You wanted to pal around with small-time criminals you were friends with even if your parents insisted otherwise, well, the king of hoodlums is the only guy you have left in your life now.

You have committed yourself body and soul to a dangerous life within the city you love, spurred on by the tragic injustice that took your parents in an event that destroyed your entire world? Great, welcome to Gotham, here's even a new name you get out of it.

[whiskeyghoul]

7 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

First part, Previous part, Next part

A/N: Okay this is mostly just fluff to lead up to more things. Anyways, reader getting out of the lab dungeon! Yay! Also Spencer is definitely the type of person to get overwhelmed by feelings and get too into his head with everything. So here is a chapter of just the inner musing of the ‘oh my god I am going too fast.’ and ‘I really want to do more with them. What if I scare them off.’ type of things. Because he already realized his feelings but he is too blinded by them to see yours. Not proof read once again oops.

WC: 3 K

Tags: Fluff, just pure fluff, idiots in love, mentions of things from the past, reminiscing.

Warnings: None.

Spencer POV

Spencer had decided that he’d finish the week by staying home. So when he arrived at Quantico on Monday morning, two coffees in hand, he felt refreshed in a weird way. Where at the start of the week before he had felt terrible, tired, aching. Now he had a slight lightness in his step. The satchel hanging off of his shoulder was heavy, filled with his paperwork that he had done at home. He had spent that Friday actually working on it, feeling better than he had before that.

When you had come over that last Thursday, he had listened to your apology. Realizing how much of an impact on your life your ex had. He just hoped that it was over now. Because when he thought about you, being hurt, stalked. It made something inside him so angry. That when you had sat across from him at his dining table he just wanted you to stay close to him forever. So that he could be the one to keep an eye on you. It felt possessive. Which he hadn’t felt before. Not about a person at least.

About his favorite book, yes. Or his personal mug. About the chess set he had gotten from his mother years ago. Yet you were the first person to stir up similar feelings inside of him. He had almost even invited you to stay over that night. Which was moving way too fast considering you had just hurt his feelings immensely about a week before. Yet seeing you, in that big ragged hoodie, completely disheveled, vulnerable. He needed you close. He also wanted to kick Tommy in the teeth if he ever ran into him. For hurting you. For being a dick. He’d never felt like intentionally hurting someone like that. But you did something to him.

Spencer walked to the frosted glass door, knocking quickly before stepping in. He watched as you sat up at your desk, eyes meeting him, your concentrated frown turned to a smile. The way the crease in your brown relaxed at the sight of him made his heart still for a moment. He hadn’t thought that the sight of him was enough to make you smile. Wanting to immerse himself in that feeling. If only for a moment. “Morning Spencer.” Your voice was chipper that morning. He noted you looked put together, happy, carefree. Though that is what getting rid of a stalker usually does. He walked over, knowing he couldn’t stay long but wanting to spend as much time with you as he could.

“Good morning.” He returned with a smile, handing over the coffee that had kept his hand warm on his walk up. You gladly took it, taking an immediate sip. “You are a godsend.” You spoke with a smile after placing the cup down. “Because of the coffee or is there another reason for this compliment?” He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips as he took off the purple scarf he had worn on his way over. Draping it over the back of one of the desk chairs. “Both. I couldn’t get coffee this morning, I was in a rush since I got new evidence in.” You said, and got up from your chair, ready to show him whatever you got in. “Look, this is so interesting, they found a butt load of money on the victim. It was found at the crime scene, there was powder that could either be used for tracing or could be some drugs. Maybe it’s cocaine, maybe it is a poison absorbed through the skin.” You continued, holding up the evidence bag with a few hundred dollar notes.

“What’s the other reason?” Spencer asked. You blinked, just a little confused. “For the powder?” You questioned in return. “For the compliment.” Spencer answered and you blinked again. Doe eyed and a little embarrassed. Clearly you had changed the subject because you didn’t want to tell him the true reason. “Ehm… well, you- you look really good.” Your face had gotten tinged red as you stammered over your words. Spencer smiled. Without even thinking he leaned slightly down. Planting a tender kiss on your cheek. He couldn’t not, seeing your pinkened cheeks, the urge to kiss you was almost unbearable. But he could hold back enough to just press his lips on the apple of your cheek. Your skin was soft and warm against them. The smell of your perfume once again wafting up into his nose. It was a quick second of a move but he would keep that moment in his memories forever. 

When he pulled away you looked still as flustered as before. “What was that for?” your voice was sweet, not even a hint of apprehension in them. You feigned confusion, he could see it in the way your eyes looked at him with a slight twinkle. Only one brow quirking up and a lopsided smile that you tried to hold back. “You look really good too.” Spencer answered, his cheeks feeling just the slightest hint of warmth. He watched you, the way your bottom lip got caught between your teeth as you struggled to keep from smiling too much. He wanted to keep that look all to himself. His hands aching again to pull you closer to him, to let himself melt into that cherry scent. To never stop kissing those sweet lips. He could stay in the lab forever with you if you would let him. Or if his boss would. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket before the sound went off. The ding of a text message that was probably sent by one of his colleagues wondering why he was later than usual.

“I think you need to get to work too.” You spoke with a hint of disappointment. A sigh crossed your slightly parted lips. “I can come back for lunch.” Spencer spoke quickly, so ready to return to you even when he hasn’t left yet. “You always have lunch here, I am sure you must be sick of the lab.” You quickly protested. How could he be sick of the place where he gets to spend time with you. It was a preposterous thought. Nothing like that would have ever crossed his mind

“What if I come to you for lunch? Would that be okay?” you asked. “Are you sure? I mean… I would love that! If you want to of course. But isn’t this your space? I get it if you don’t want to go somewhere else to have lunch. Though if you do want to. I can show you my desk. Penelope would also be happy to see you, I’m sure.” Spencer rambled, until he realized he was rambling. The last word trailing off. He knew what you were doing, you were trying to make him comfortable. Even though he wasn’t uncomfortable in the lab. Yes, it was a bit of a walk, but he never complained because it meant you two would have lunch together. But he did realize he always came to you. And maybe, you had felt bad for making him come down every time. Though, you never asked him to besides the first time. After that it was all on his own accord. “I think I should broaden my horizons outside of the lab.” You joked, the giggle following your words sounding like a melody to him. “Right. Then, I would love to.” He smiled, his face feeling suddenly hot with embarrassment. His phone went off again. 

Spencer watched as you placed your hands on his shoulders. The feeling sent tingles down his spine. “I will see you at lunch then. Thank you for the coffee, pretty boy.” You quickly moved up onto your toes and placed a peck on his cheek. Mirroring what he had done to you. So casual. A peculiar kind that bordered on domestic. He locked that thought away for now. Not wanting to open that can of worms when he had just known you for a month, maybe less. It had only been 2 weeks since your first true kiss, in the museum. God he was moving quick, he might even scare himself with the rate at which these feelings grew inside of him. He realized he loved you, but saying that now would be too soon. You spun him around , his out of control thoughts quieting down, before giving a light push towards the door of the lab. Just as the notification sound went off for a third time.

When Spencer made his way to the bullpen of the BAU and took a seat at his desk he heard Derek whistle. “Got a little honey I see. And so early in the morning, how does he do it ladies and gents?” The man sidled up to his desk as Spencer bent down to put his bag on the ground. He looked back up to Derek with a little confusion, until he realized. His eyes went just a little wide. He had been so dazed by the fact you kissed him so quickly, and then shoved him to get to work, he forgot to check his face for what most likely would be a deep red mark on his left cheek. “You got a little something right there.” Derek pointed to his own cheek with a grin.

“Just because you can’t get it doesn’t mean you have to make fun of me.” Spencer sassed, grabbing a tissue and wetting it with water from his bottle, wiping at his cheek to remove your lipstick stain. Even though it hurt him slightly to remove the lasting mark you left on him. “Oh I am not making fun of anyone. I am proud. You return back after a week of absence due to a broken heart with what is clearly a sign that she’s still into you.” Derek explained, hands up in a defensive pose. Though he still had that grin. “Or you moved on to someone new really quickly.”

Spencer looked at the stain on the tissue, it was still vaguely kiss shaped. “We made up.” He said softly, a little embarrassed again. He knew Derek truly didn’t mean any harm with his words, they were teasing, like the older brother he never had but wished he did. “Good for you.” Derek said as he patted his shoulder before returning to his own desk. Spencer sat down, stuffing the tissue in his pocket before he went to work on filing the paperwork.

Spencer kept looking at the clock, hoping, praying they wouldn’t get a case until after lunch. Maybe that was a selfish thought, wanting the murders and the kidnappings to wait for his own gain. He knew that if they were needed they would fly out within 30 minutes. But lunch with you was important. So every few minutes he looked at the clock. Every time the elevator made a noise his eyes would flick over. The clock crept nearer to 12 pm, then when it hit 12:15 on the dot the elevator doors opened. And there you were, white coat foregone, two small bags in your hands that he supposed contained your lunch. You looked around the room a little nervous.

Spencer got up from his seat, waving you over with a smile. You lit up once you saw him, walking over quickly, boots thudding heavy against the linoleum of the bullpen. “Hey.” Spencer said with a smile, feeling a little too excited. “Hey.” you said in turn with a big smile. “I eh… got lunch for the both of us. If that’s not overstepping.” You said, holding out one of the paper bags. “I texted Penelope, she said you liked BLT so I truly hope you do.” you spoke quickly and Spencer grabbed the bag with a smile. The fact that you went out of your way to get him something he liked, to text Penelope, it made his heart swell. “I do. Thank you.” He said and motioned for you to take his seat.

As he did Spencer looked around the room for a second, a slightly surprised look from Emily, a confused one from JJ, and Derek just smiled before giving him a thumbs up. A sudden reminder that he never told Emily or JJ, and he was lucky David and Aaron sat in their own offices. He could not handle getting dating advice from David right now. You sat down in his seat as Spencer pulled a free chair over, sitting next to you. Closing a few books to make space to put the food down. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized but you simply smiled. “It’s okay. I like it, it’s your apartment but in desk form.” You commented, looking over the things on his desk.

He felt a little embarrassed by the few knick-knacks that were on there. The post it notes stuck to any service as reminders of things to do. He watched as you picked up the picture frame, a photo of his mom and him in there. “That’s my mom, Diana…” he said, as he watched your intent look. “She looks nice. You have similar bone structure.” You commented. Spencer let out a soft chuckle, “No one has ever commented on our bone structure before.” He said it softly. His mom was still a little sore of a subject, he knew the situation wasn’t likely to change, his mom would just get worse. But he wasn’t ready to tell you about that part just yet. Maybe soon. He did need to tell his mom about you. He’d probably have to tell her multiple times, he just hoped she would be happy for him. “But you do!” You quickly retaliated, turning the picture to him, “all these angles, the big eyes.” you tried to reason and Spencer only chuckled more. “Didn’t you come to have lunch?” He asked as he started to unwrap the sandwich that you got for him.

“And maybe to snoop a little.” You confessed as you quickly took a bite of your own sandwich. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, just a little surprised and amused. “Shouldn’t snooping happen without the other person’s knowledge?” He asked, taking his own first bite of the sandwich. Somehow, it tasted better when you were around. You shrugged dismissively, though a small smirk played along those blood red lips. He thought about it, about kissing you right there in the bullpen. Looking pretty in his chair, at his desk. Though he’d probably never hear the end of it from the entire team. He didn’t really care. There was that possessiveness again. Wanting to show you and him were a thing… though you never really said you were a thing. “It feels wrong to snoop on you.” You admitted, sheepish grin and a slight nudge of your shoulder against his. This is what happiness felt like. The sadness of the last week is quickly forgotten, just by having you pay attention to him again. He was weak for you.

“I appreciate the informed snooping.” He laughed softly. “I’ll make sure to only snoop when you know.” Your reply made him smile more. The both of you finished your lunch, eating and talking, until Aaron walked in. “Round table room, 10 minutes.” He stated it coolly, only inferring to Spencer that this could be a serious case. Spencer looked at you, a little apologetic. He didn’t want to leave. Wanted to finish lunch in all peace with you. “I’m sorry.” He apologized as he started to pack up the half eaten sandwich back into the paper it came in. At Least he’d be able to finish it later. “It’s okay. It is your job.” You answered, standing up before a look of realization came over you. It confused him for a moment as you looked at him with your lips parted. “What?” he asked, brows scrunching slightly. “You left your scarf in the lab. I wanted to bring it. I’m sorry, I can go get it.” You rambled. “That’s okay, no need. I can pick it up when we get back.” He assured. It was sweet how you thought about it. Wanting to return his scarf when he had to leave. Maybe to make sure he wouldn’t be cold.

“Alright… You’d have to come back soon, be safe.” Those words made his heart skip a beat. It was sweet. How you cared, made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “I will.” He said with a nod. He wanted to bend his head down again, to kiss you and not care about his friends in the room. Instead of giving in to the urge of wanting to kiss you, he pulled you into a hug. Wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. He felt your arms wrap around him. Warmth taking over him. He pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, taking in a deep breath. Emitting your scent to memory. The feeling of you in his arms tucked away for when he needed to remember it. He almost didn’t want to let go. You were the one to pull away first. Spencer reluctantly let his arms drop back to his sides. “I’ll see you soon.” you said it softly and with a smile. He nodded his head, “I’ll text you every day.” he answered before gathering his things and heading to the round table room. A quick glance back to see you still standing at his desk, a small wave goodbye before he left to go do his job.

He just hoped it wouldn’t be a long one.

Tag list:

@luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95 @jasf444 @queermaxwooo @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @sammy-4103 @thedevioussmirk @pleasantwitchgarden @khxna   @suckstobrlaurie @mega-kittyglitter-1 @superlegend216 @seninjakitey

[bakasara]

Trying to parse my thoughts on Izzy's death and why I had a different reaction to it than I thought I would. To summarize: I thought I wouldn't like it, but also that they wouldn't do it; the opposite happened– they did it but I'm ok with it.

I'm also feeling like talking through some mourning for an amazing character, so follow along if that's you, too 😌

(I should probably clarify the following thoughts are coming from someone who deeply enjoyed this season.)

I first wondered what would be of Izzy around the end of season 1. I expected him to have a heel-face turn – which I object to calling a redemption arc and I'll get into why, because the distinction ties into his death imo. A lot of antagonistic characters' changes of heart end directly in death, but I thought they'd subvert that trope. And they... did, actually, despite Izzy dying. Not an option I had imagined.

What the show avoided is the logic, the set of tropes attached to the deaths of this kind of character. These deaths usually come as a consequence of the character's changed ethics or "redemption". My being against that scenario came from the diverging natures of traditional redemption arcs and OFMD's rhetoric.

A traditional redemption arc functions by a kind of catholic logic, if you will: the villain can become one of the good guys by balancing out his "sins"/bad deeds with enough good deeds to tip a moral scale. This often involves a purifying suffering, which acts as an agent to expiate one's faults. To the viewer, this suffering can serve to activate our empathy and make the character more sympathetic. It can also legitimize his quest: our trust in the character's good intentions comes from seeing that the character is ready to make sacrifices to become better and he isn't deterred by the hardships of doing the right thing.

The death occurring at the end of a traditional redemption arc acts as the ultimate sacrifice and/or purification. A number of ideas might be at play behind it, depending on each story: only in death can the soul become fully pure, or a final sacrifice is "needed" to demonstrate the change once and for all, or change was only possible up to a point after which there is no viable/acceptable future – the character deserves moral points for changing, but not so many that he also deserves a full life, or past crimes make him more expendable, etc.

But these are all ideas that aren't evoked in any of the crew's journey in OFMD. For starters, the show isn't interested in "catholic" redemption; its focus is on reintegration/rehabilitation into the community. Rather than appealing to the more traditional (in Western media) and more christian principle of "purification of the soul through mortification of the body", it plays with notions of restorative justice.

We see it especially this season with Ed and Izzy. Ed's arc is a whole little lab for it. We have the community being made to decide whether he can stay or should leave; catbell!Ed is made to apologize to the people affected – which he initially does abysmally, with what fandom has dubbed his "CEO's/YouTube apology". Later, he's given the opportunity to have a more honest and genuine conversation with Fang where he learns about how he hurt him. He's made to repair some of the material damage his behavior caused. Some members feel repaid by the idea that they did to him the same he did to them (Fang) while others don't (Lucius), and the show touches on what this means for each/legitimizes both feelings. Arguably, Ed using his treasure to throw Calypso's birthday party – a much needed refrain and moment of social (re-)connection within the community – is an additional form of reparation. While Stede's belief in Ed has a clear role in helping Ed change for the better, Izzy's s2 journey focuses even more intensely on the role of social support within an individual's constructive (re-)integration into their community. The show is condensed by choice of format, but the beats are all there.

With that kind of rhetoric set up, I'd never be able to accept Izzy dying in a way that feels like a punishment for his past crimes, nor in a way that should "confirm" his positive change/"purify" him for good. And he doesn't! By the time he dies, we know full well he's deeply changed, it's already established to completion. How it happens has nothing to do with proving himself – he's randomly shot in battle. It's never questioned that the time he got to live surrounded by affection mattered. The speech he gives Ed is only possible because he's changed, accessing a completely different perspective on piracy/life than before, like we see when he talks to Ricky earlier. The reason the whole crew is paying respect and crying is because he became "the new unicorn", a treasured member with a defined role. But his death itself is the show going back to the initial symbolism of Izzy as ultimate pirate. The narrative function of his death is underscoring that the age of piracy has come to an end. It's nothing to do with his change. It's posited as the "natural conclusion" (again, by symbolic function) of a character that represented piracy through-and-through, not the "natural conclusion" of a process of becoming better.

And for me, that difference changes everything. I can see and accept the logic behind it, even as I mourn Izzy as a character. It makes the grief feel like a catharsis I experience within the context of the story I'm watching, rather than a grief I feel from a show "betraying" me.

It's also a difference that completely changes how Izzy's death relates to his queerness. Izzy's change is intertwined with being able to express queer affection openly. Becoming "a unicorn" is this extremely queer imagery already – a magical rainbow creature. His role becomes akin to a mother to the crew (the mother hen!Izzy many headcanoned last season, tapping into his potential), a position that isn't extraneous to older queens, including our honored real-life mean-old-queer men. Last season he threatened another queer man for showing too much delicacy, effeminacy, vulnerability. Now, his change is a process that culminates in him singing a tender love song among the crew in drag. He's given the privilege of playing the soundtrack to our protagonists making love for the first time, which ties him symbolically to the event in a way it does no other crew member. Suffice it to say that insinuating his process of change should end in death would have been disastrous, as far as I'm concerned. Antithetical to the show's supporting ideology.

But that's not how it went. Grief occupies a big role in the queer community, but it's so rare that we get to experience it cathartically. In real life, we often have to contend with the ways queerphobia causes us trauma or even shortens our lives, or the lives of our friends. In fictional narratives, a lot of characters that get to express queerness unabashedly still die for the transgression. They're still usually the only queer character with relevant screen time or at all, at best one of two that formed a tragic couple.

We almost never have the opportunity to just mourn some motherfucker who died because they meant something else as well that was central to their character. To mourn and know we're mourning someone who wasn't ever punished for being queer-as-in-fuck-you and going all out. To mourn and not feel like it's another message of queer doom, because for once the character is surrounded by an entire crew of other queer characters that go on to live and be happy. To know the story is saying something about life, not about being queer. To know this kind of crafting was deliberate, too, because the creator has talked about working to avoid those tropes. I struggle to remember another time I had the opportunity to grieve for a queer character like they're a human being, without the implication that it's queerness itself that's a death sentence.

And honestly? It feels good. It feels like a form of catharsis I do not dislike. That I'm maybe kinda glad for. OFMD is and stays a magical world. Beyond that, in a show full of queers, one of them dies after getting some extraordinarily meaningful happiness, and it's peaceful, and I get to just be sad for the fucker without the gutting of being reminded that if you're gay, better not shoot too high. It feels like a completely different emotion that no other show, for now, would give me, but OFMD. To me, it's yet another thing it's pulled off.

As it's been known to do.

[animestsstuff2]

Twitterpated

Part 2

Masterlist here!

Your villain alias is Angel! Sometimes referred to by Dabi as Dove due to your wings but for anonymity purposes you (the reader) will be referred to as Angel for the majority of this fic🤍

Content warning: this is set after season 4/5 and will have spoilers up until season 7 mainly in later chapters tho! Hawks flirting cuz hes lowkey smooth with da ladys

Night two, 2:00am.

Hawks was jittery, was it from the third can of coffee? Or from his jumbled thoughts? He called the doctor after his shift yesterday and didn’t get a helpful solution. He shifted from his standing position on the top of his agency, crouching low as his eyes scanned the streets below not really focused as his mind drifted to the phone call.

“Sounds like your primal needs are poking through hawks” Hawks sighed as he lay on his bed, fingers carding through damp hair.

“Primal needs? What’dya mean?” He asked uselessly, he knew exactly what the doctor meant.

“Your quirk. You didn’t just get the mutation of wings Hawks like most mutation quirks other qualities are mixed. An example would be a cat-like quirk they, not all the time now, can be prone to getting a heat. Thats dependent though on how cat-like they are, its differen-“ Hawks zoned out, his face pink as the doctor continued on about heats and mating seasons. His body warm as his mind filled with thoughts.

He knows everything about his quirk, knows the weight of each feather, the way his wings have to be folded, the way they stretch. Its like breathing, so..why didn’t he know this? If animals mate every year why didn’t the spring months bother him until now, what has changed.

“Anyways! I digress. I speculate the reasoning for your sudden awaken in your more primal instincts is due to meeting someone of interest” Hawks attention was back on the phone pressed to his ear as he sat up. A sudden thought pushing to the forefront of his mind.

“Uh, yeah thanks. Gotta go” click, the phone was tossed aside as he got up, naked as the day he was born and began pacing his bedroom.

Was this your doing? Maybe this was your quirk. You had pressed something into his back last night and he forgot to figure out what. A groan fell from his lips as he sat back on his bed, hands cupping his face. No, this wasn’t some stupid quirk other than his in play. He wasn’t one for relationships, no time for them. He never reacted this way before towards his few flings. It had to be related to you, to your quirk. If only you weren’t a villain, maybe a mutual agreement could have be-

Beep!

Hawks blinked as his visor displayed a sudden report of criminal activity. A break in at a lab thirty minutes away. Hawks was gone from the rooftop. It would only take him ten to reach the crime. His heart beat hard against his chest as he thought of you being there, was this you? Would he see you again. This intrusive thoughts filled the blondes mind, one after the other. It was like someone else was in his brain, they didn’t feel like they were coming from him

Hawks eyes scanned the lab, seeing the sirens blare and lights illuminate the surrounding area. His wings flapping and keeping him up high as he saw two other pros join the scene below. Hawks eyes narrowed watching as they entered through the main door but just as they did a flash of white flew through the window to the left. He didn’t miss a beat as he soared after you. His heart beating faster now, easily catching up with you as he stayed above seeing you with a handful of supplies. He pulled a long feather from his back but his hand faltered. You flipped over now, slowing your pace as your eyes met his. Your gloved hand trailing up to trace the edge of the fluffy feather. Hawks heart skipped at the touch, it felt too sensitive, too raw even with gloves.

“C’mon Hero, it’s for the league. You’re not gonna stop me are you?” Your voice was low and teasing as you slowed even further. Your white wings outstretched as you circled one another high in the sky, going up and away from view.

It looked almost like a dance as Hawks felt his words get caught in his throat, only able to focus on the eyes that gleamed above the mask. You had a new one, no long a plain white cloth but rather a white mask now fit on your face. Hawks put his feather back regaining his composure as he flashed a grin, ignoring the way his wings stretched too far, tensed too much and his body ran warm. The two of you now alone, above the clouds. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the white wings behind you, smaller than his both in length and size overall but big enough to carry you.

“Stop you? I’d never lay a hand on a pretty thing like you” He wasn’t intending to say that but the words slipped out before he could think of another response. Your cheeks flushed and the reaction egged him on, something pulling in his chest.

Didn’t know you liked it rough Angel. I promise i’ll not hurt you too bad” the implication behind his words made your wings falter slightly and you almost fell. Your face definitely red as you thought of a response. Your eyes breaking contact with the avians yellow ones as you felt your stomach twist. Your emotions had been wired since meeting him yesterday, unable to play it cool anymore.

“Um, right. Well..Do I have to make it look like we fought? So people don’t ask questions?” You mumbled, thankful for the night sky and your mask for hiding the pink on your cheeks. Hawks brow raised at your reply and he chuckled. You really must be new to the league. Why were you even part of it? You didn’t seem crazy like the rest of those nut-jobs, especially that blood freak. Hawks wings bristled as he recalled the time he first met her. He focused back on you. The grin never leaving his face.

Thats not what I meant! I-I have to go!” Hawks grin feel as your wings flapped and spun you round. His hand moved quicker as he grabbed your forearm and your body tensed as the feeling went straight to the tension in your stomach

. “W-Wait. I was just messing with ya Angel” He didn’t know what else to say to make you stay. He didn’t know why he was even bothering, no rational thought could make sense of why the feeling in his chest wanted you to stay near him so badly.

“Whatever. I have to go. It’s already quarter to three if i’m not back before then boss will kill me” you mumbled, turning your head over your shoulder to glance at him. Your hair moving in the slight wind which picked up had strands falling over your face. Hawks all but blinked dumbly as his grip on you faltered and you pulled away.

You were quick immediately taking off as your white wings became nothing but a blur. His own puffed out and twitching, not even realising how fast they were flapping. His mind finally zoning back in as he let himself drop, coming down from the sky just a ways away from the hospital and going over seeing police already at the scene.

“Hawks! Did ya see anything?” His eyes moved over to a police man waving his hand. He headed over shaking his head and plastering a familiar grin on his face.

“Nah. I got sight of somethin’ but they disappeared through a portal before I could get close” he lied, it was for the league, not you. Hawks left before he could be questioned further remembering Kurogiri was in police custody, not a great lie.

His wings bringing him to a large building just a bit away from the lab. He felt it again. His body warm and skin sweaty. His wings spanned out from his back as he removed his gloves and wiped his clammy hands onto his bottoms. His throat feeling dry all of a sudden as he tried to ignore the tension in his stomach. His fingers carding through his hair as he let out a sigh.

Did you feel this?…

You did in-fact feel it. Your wings bristled as the wind caught under them, stretched out. You swooped through the air as you grew closer to the ground. Your arms wrapped around the supplies you’d been asked to gather. Your cheeks warm and hands clammy. You landed softly on the rooftop your wings staying stretched out slightly behind you as you made your way over to the fire exit door.

It swung open as you stepped inside the dingy stairwell. It was lit by a single bulb with no shade. The door swung shut behind you as you made your way down and into the sort of communal area below. The warehouse served as a secondary base of operations before the planned move to Deika city to uncover some ‘present’ One For All left behind for Shigaraki.

You entered the communal area seeing Toga and Twice sat on the dusty sofa toying with some board-game the most likely stole. You spotted Spinner hunched over the stove by the Kitchenette as he fumbled with a knife.

“Where’s Shigaraki?” You asked all of them.

“Tomura? Hes out right now! - no hes in his room! Twice gave a typical double response and your eyes moved to Toga.

“He’s in the workspace with Dabi!” She giggled and you nodded. She creeped you out the most to be honest. Her insistent begging to have some of your blood so she could fly bothered you.

You headed down the hallway to the ‘office’ it was really just Shigaraki’s room that he liked to call his office. You knocked once and heard the raspy voice beckon from inside as you stepped in and placed the supply boxes on his desk. His hands folding the papers in front of him and moving them away. Dabi who was previously leaning over the table straightened himself as he looked you over.

“How’d it go? Any run ins Dove?” The tall man asked as a smirk stretched across his marred skin. Your eyes averted from his as some feathers fluffed up recalling your encounter with the blonde haired hero.

“N-, No it went fine” you mumbled out. Your skin growing warm as your cheeks flushed. A single finger curled around your mask and pulling it down as it fell under your chin.

“No? Why ya all red for then? You run into our little bird?” His voice teased you as Shigaraki straightened up. This information new to his ears.

“Whats this? What little bird Dabi?” His fingers already scratching at his forearms skin.

“Ya know, our little birdy Hawks. Angel here has some feelings for him I reckon” Dabi chuckled as your skin prickled with bumps. The villain costume you had made thankfully hiding the goosebumps which prickled your arm.

“Hmm, that’s not good..no, not good at all Angel” Shigaraki stated as his nails curled against his skin further.

“No! It’s not true. I did run into him but he let me go. My face is just warm from flying so fast to get away” You quickly shot out and Shigaraki’s eyes gave you a once over before shrugging his shoulders and waving a hand.

“Whatever, just don’t let it become bothersome. You can leave the supplies here. Dabi you can go too” He mumbled and you nodded turning as Dabi followed close behind you now both exiting the room.

“You sure nothin’ happened Angel?” Dabi’s voice from behind made you jump as fingers trailed up the spine of your wing. His slender fingers pinching a feather..pluck! You flinched and spun round on reflex seeing Dabi with a sly grin on his face.

“You know. I don’t care much for the league or everyone else’s agenda except my own. The care I have for them is solely to fuel my own agenda and consequently it’s in my benefit to ensure everyone stays in their place” You swallowed thickly as the hallway became hot. Dabi’s hooded eyes staring at yours as your feather lay flat in his palm.

“See, i don’t bother going out of my way to learn about mutation quirks, the ins and outs. But I understand some people come together due to them, ya know, hook up or breed even” he laughed at his snide comment. You felt yourself grow warmer, cheeks flushing and heart rate increasing.

“And i just wanted to make sure our little Dove isn’t all twitterpated over our little Birdy, Hawks. Cause’ ya know, that wouldn’t benefit me at all” He stated and your eyes honed in on the blue flame that swallowed your feather. All that remained was ash and your right wing twitched feeling a slight twinge of pain.

“You understand, don’t ya Dove?” His grin only grew, stables stretching as they held the charred skin together.

You just nodded unable to form any words to reply but it was enough for Dabi and he turned without another word. You watched him retreat down the hall and through the door to the communal area and only then when the door shut did your rigid muscles relax and your breath finally become short as you clutched a hand over your chest.

“Fuck” you mumbled as you forced your feet to take you to your room. Your hand gripping the handle too tightly as you shut it behind yourself and rested your forehead against the wood. Your mind buzzing with thoughts as you concluded the only thing you should do and that was to ignore Hawks, which couldn’t be that hard.

Right?..

I also don’t know whether to make the character (you) a real villain with a vendetta against hero society or make her a unfortunate but good person who has caught herself intwined and/or in debt to the L.O.V

[anhed-nia]

R.O.T.O.R. -- AGAIN!

Even ripoffs can be beautiful.

I am writing about R.O.T.O.R., neither for the first time nor the last, because something new strikes me about this startling movie every time I see it. Its amazing premise, which amply rips off THE TERMINATOR and JUDGE DREDD (but not ROBOCOP, oddly, which began shooting after R.O.T.OR., also in Dallas) provides fertile ground for all sorts of useful interpretation. This time I was most struck by the fact that R.O.T.O.R. is all about jobs and going to work.

The story concerns "police scientist" Captain Coldyron (cold-iron) who has invented the Robotic Officer Tactical Operations Research/Reserve, a T-800 type of android made out of a "self-teaching alloy" that can kick anybody's ass. Coldyron resigns in a huff when his boss conspires with local politicians to rush the lawbot to market, and the project races forward dysfunctionally until R.O.T.O.R. inevitably busts lose and starts killing people for minor mischief. Coldyron hooks up with the robot's coauthor Dr. Steel (female bodybuilder Jayne Smith who is like something out of Crying Freeman, which I mean as the highest compliment) to hunt their creation down and destroy it.

Coldyron is played by Richard Gesswein, who was also created in a lab.

That might sound pretty action-packed, but in execution R.O.T.O.R. is heavily focused on the drudgery of daily life. Enormous amounts of time are spent walking through parking lots, traversing the atria of hotels, finding parking, being seated in restaurants, and most of all, spending hours and hours at work, making countless phone calls. You have never seen so many people on the phone in a movie in your entire life. There's work phones, home phones, payphones, and even CB radios. At times it feels as if you may never see more than one person on the same set again. On the phones, people say things to each other that have already been said earlier in the movie if not earlier in the same scene, if not earlier in the same monologue. In the scene where Coldyron learns that R.O.T.O.R. has gone rogue, he delivers this incredible screed during one of THREE calls that he makes in a row:

"Its last program was prime directive... Prime directive to our ROTOR unit is judge and execute. It stops felons, judges the crime, and executes sentence. Justice served, COD. You call the Senator and you tell him ROTOR walked through a busload of nuns to get to a jaywalker, with malice towards no one. It won't stop. It wasn't ready. Its brain functions are incomplete. It can't think twice, can't reason, can't change its prime directive. It's like a chainsaw set on frappe..."

It begins to feel as if he will never stop reiterating whatever he (and others) just said, and this is not the only such example.

Most of these calls, like all of the activity in the movie, are focused on jobs. Coldyron calls his girlfriend first thing in the morning to tell her that he is getting ready for work, and to ask her if she is also getting ready to go to work at her own job. He promises that "if you're a good girl and go to work" then he will grill steaks at her house later. When he goes out to buy charcoal for the reward steaks he stumbles upon two creeps robbing the store and trying to take a hostage--a woman who stops the crime with several karate kicks, to whom he says "Hey lady, you want a job?" Meanwhile at the police robot lab, a scientist slaves away while complaining about the impossible new R.O.T.O.R. deadline as the comic relief security bot whines, sighs, and says "One of these days I'm gonna quit this job!" (Later on he actually does) Once R.O.T.O.R. has escaped we meet the Linda Hamilton of this movie (Margaret Trigg), who is having a vicious fight in the car with her fiance because she wants to get a job; the fiance wants to forgo the "barbaric ritual" of the wedding and just be automatically married to a woman who will not embarrass him by getting a job. Finally he concedes, "Elope with me tonight and I'll help you get a job after the honeymoon," but it's too late for all that because he's speeding and about to get killed by R.O.T.O.R.

For extra job-related realism there is workplace harassment in the form of a guy who tries to fuck his colleague by describing ancient execution methods and who calls her a white supremacist for turning him down (he says he's Native American, she says he's not, I don't know the right answer because this is the actor's only credit--and actually he's uncredited for the role, though he is acknowledged for composing the movie's primitive synth soundtrack which I kind of enjoy). It's also worth mentioning that the comedy droid is a real robot with a job, according to iMDB (sadly there is not a wealth of info on this movie):

"Willard the Robot is played by APD2, a robot purchased in 1986 by the police department of the Town of Addison, a northern suburb of Dallas, for $17,750 (approximately $41,000 in 2018 dollars). APD2/Willard performed public relations duties and was tapped to lead the Christmas parade in Addison that year. His contributions to actual law enforcement and his subsequent whereabouts are unknown. "As quoted from 'theoldrobots' website; 'Officer Willi from 1985 - This 21st Century Robotics robot was operated by remote control, showed videos about public safety, and was used in teaching important safety topics such as stranger awareness, traffic safety, and much more..'"

Coldyron is actually a very good prototype of the modern tech mogul who has way too much time on his hands and whose existence is mainly composed of heroic fantasies about himself, whether he is molding the future face of law enforcement, or dicking around on his enormous ranch where he lamely practices his lasso technique on tree stumps before blowing them up with dynamite. At the office he demands "hydrogenated wheat germ and dessicated liver" which boosts his handball game, and I thought, jesus christ I think I've worked for this guy. Coldyron is *I think* the hero of this movie but I'm never sure how much you're really supposed to like him; when his girlfriend sends him out for charcoal so he can cook her reward steaks, he goes to a mini mart and just starts looking for trouble, harassing minorities and flashing his gun. It's like, this is the reason there are loitering laws, but naturally they don't apply when you're a rich cop.

Someone please make these stickers!

The best way to understand R.O.T.O.R. is through the knowledge that director and co-writer Cullen Blaine worked on a variety of popular cartoon shows during what they call "the dark age of animation". First of all, there are scenes in this movie whose aesthetic, humor, and internal logic only begin to make sense if you imagine them taking place in an episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles--and actually much if not all of the dialog was dubbed by a whole other cast due to problems with getting the stars back for ADR, creating a whole other layer of literal cartoonishness. But the period in which Cullen Blaine created R.O.T.O.R. and designed many children's shows was dominated by what's called "limited animation" which I almost don't even have to describe. It's all in the name, the goal was to do things as cheaply as possible while turning out dozens of episodes per season. Part of the problem was, as with all things, Ronald Reagan, whose deregulation activities defanged measures to make sure children's programming was not just a steady stream of hard sell marketing. Under Reagan, the requirement for some portion of programs to be educational became so easy to meet and manipulate that animation studios were compelled to crank out zillions of Trojan horse toy ads with glib moral declarations tacked on. (I think I understand this correctly, I'm sure @bogleech has better material on the subject) Animators are a historically abused lot with a sad history of failed strikes, and I'm just extrapolating here, but I bet it's reasonable to guess that R.O.T.O.R. reflects the filmmaker's experiences in the grueling cartoon mines. The brutal sacrifice of quality to speed, the hostile work environments, and the endless, redundant calls and meetings, all smack of a script by someone who has had a very bad job.

"We've all got plenty of time to figure out what this means to each one of us," Coldyron sagely concludes at the end of his misadventure. Obviously I am still working on what it means to me, since this is the fourth or fifth time I've seen this movie and (at least?) the second time I'm writing about it. I will say that while the film I have just described sounds intolerably boring--I mean, a whole movie about rat race drudgery with the fewest and least convincing action sequences ever--but believe me, it is not boring. R.O.T.O.R. is constantly surprising and fascinating, with weirdly vivid imagery and pages and pages of the strangest dialog you will hear anywhere. Just watch the movie and let it shock you. You'll have plenty of time to figure out what it means to you later.

[headfullof-ideas]

Some headcanons of the Nektons family that I’ve been meaning to finish up, and finally got around to! I posted them to Ao3 as well, if anyone’s there as well. I usually post headcanons of a certain character by themself, but i couldn’t think of enough for a whole set, so there’s some of the whole family here, and some of the characters individually.

- After everything with the Monumentials is dealt with, Ant gets a tuxedo cat he affectionately names Buttons. Buttons is mostly black, with two little white ‘buttons’ and ‘gloves’, and she’s the sweetest cat ever. Ant insists that Buttons formal occupation as an ESA is entirely coincidental

- Kaiko played Dungeons and Dragons a bit as a kid and in college, but never found a group who wanted to play seriously. She still has all her old books, character sheets, and dice in a box in her and Will’s closet

- When Kaiko and Will were introducing each other to their parents, Kaiko’s parents were initially on the fence about Will. Meanwhile, Kathryn and Jacques immediately fell in love with Kaiko

- Kaiko had about a dozen different ‘pets’ growing up, some that were animals that her family were taking care of before they were released back to the wild. She was also the owner of a number of failed fosters

- Ant and Fontaine were both child leash toddlers. Fontaine grew out of needing it, but Ant would find new ways to slip out of his leash without either parent noticing

- Ant keeps forgetting that his name is actually ‘Antaeus’ because of how long he’s been going by ‘Ant’. When he does occasionally remember or get called Antaeus casually, he sits in silence for a few minutes having an existential crisis over it

- Ant and Kaiko both brush off minor illnesses like they’re nothing more than minor inconveniences. They do the same with injuries. When it becomes too much though, they both get super clingy and needy

- Will was an Egyptology kid, with the shiny gold book and all. He was also a magpie as a kid, attracted to all the shiny doo-dads and bobbles he’d find

- Ant wanted to be a Marine Biologist as a kid because of his mom and how much he loved the ocean, but as he got older he started leaning in a different direction with other animals as well. Eventually he landed on being an Animal Behaviorist

- Fontaine does NOT like snakes. At all. They gross her out so much

- Hide and seek is banned on the Aronnax, because the game takes way too long with how many hiding places there are on the submarine. Repeated incidents involving pingers as cheating, with all family members guilty of it, is another reason

- The World Oceans Authorities never stopped trying to rehire Kaiko after she left. When Ant grows up and starts looking for a job, they make it their mission to hire him. Ant makes a point to say no in the most elaborate way possible each time. Pyrosome cries herself to sleep about it sometimes

- After at least half of their late night missions, the family don’t even make it to their own bedrooms to sleep. Crashing in the Moon Pool happens often enough they store blankets and pillows in a closet

- There’s a board of ‘how many missions so and so has gone without needlessly risking their life’ in the lab. Ant has never made it to the double digits. Kaiko and Will are only slightly better. Fontaine is the only one who has made it relatively close to triple digits, and she feels ashamed every time she has to restart her clock

- Kaiko keeps a wall of shame and fame for all the animals she treats as a Marine Biologist, with their crimes listed beneath their photo. If she’s really annoyed with one of her family members, their photo makes it to the wall until they stop annoying her

- Kaiko and Will put child locks on Wills study when Ant and Fontaine were toddlers, and Kaiko has multiple videos of Will struggling to open his own safes and shelves during that time frame. Sometimes if she feels he’s spending too much time in the study, she’ll put them back on

- Ant and Fontaine had bells put on them when they first started being mobile as babies, as both would crawl off when their parents backs were turned for one second, and Kaiko and Will would have to madly dash through the Aronnax, listening for the jingling of a bell to find their baby

- Ant tried out Speech and Debate in high school, and was surprisingly really good at it. Kaiko was really proud

- Fontaine seems to make new friends almost everywhere the family goes, and she’s really good at remembering the names of all the people she meets

- Fontaine is really good at remembering specific dates, and here calendar is packed full of all sorts of important dates and events

[banamine-bananime]

my concept of donut is like, he should be on a 1960s white america boyscouts poster but like, goofy about it. do you get what i mean.

like to me donut was basically cooked up in a lab to be a parody of the Good Ol’ Boy Back When Boys Were Real Boys who played outside all day with friends smacking each other with sticks playing space cowboys and aliens, rubbing dirt in all his cuts and knowing big boys repress all their emotions except Boisterousness, always says his yes maams and yes sirs and never questions authority (but also, y’know, boys will be boys so of course they’re up to Mischief when unsupervised, a bit of chaotic and violent rule-breaking fun is all fine and good as long as they’re respectful to authority and just accept their punishment with an “awwww, man! Shucks!” in the end).

a parody because it plays up how someone genuinely like that probably must be pretty stupid/oblivious/gullible to be so pliable to authority and follow dumb norms of “what is a nice polite young man supposed to act like” without any thought into “wait, what makes this something it’s important or nice to do? are there perhaps other things i could focus on doing that would actually be more important or nice to do? do i actually get or care what being nice and doing good is, or do i just like doing whatever i want without having to think about Ethics and then having a very easy set of rules of How To Be Nice to follow”.

and also a parody because he also is like, extremely gay, and he literally just does what he wants and acts how he wants and it’s simultaneously ^that whole Good Ol’ Boy thing and the most flamboyant stereotypically gay mannerisms and hobbies you’ve seen in your life. and he just fully lacks the interest in doing any reflection that would lead him to conclude anyone might see these as rather contradictory or subverting expectations. he’s exposed both to norms of good behaviour coming from conservative places and from progressive places and doesn’t really think about these perhaps being conflicting ethos, he just grabs this random patchwork of “hey this is something someone told me yayyyy :)”. he can enthusiastically follow the letter of many laws rooted in heteronormativity and toxic masculinity and also the letter of laws coming from Progressive Ideals but he fully does not give a shit to consider whether there might be a bigger spirit to any of those laws. dumbitchitis got him immune to internalized homophobia (no he isn’t actually. but he is quite certain that just Not Thinking About It means any negative emotions don’t exist. this is a foundational truth to donut’s understanding of the universe)

what i’m saying is donut should simultaneously give the impression of walking straight off a cheery WWI Join The Troops poster or 1960s boy scouts ad, but also of being absolutely A Pansy of the same era, but also of being the kind of modern queer who says “be gay do crime” not because they’ve given two seconds of thought to prison abolition but because they find doing crime really fun

[mysticstarlightduck]

WIP Aesthetic Tag! Crash Stardom!

Rules: Make a moodboard for your WIP, a playlist (3+ songs/music will suffice but it can be as long as you want) and describe the Vibe of your WIP.

✦ Moodboard! ✦

✦ Playlist ✦

Habits (Stay High) - RainParis (cover)

Trouble - Valerie Broussaurd

Sucker - Marcus King (Arcane)

Raging On A Sunday - Bohnes

The Dismemberment Song - Blue Kid

Torture Tango - Spies Are Forever

Stuck Inside - Black Gryph0n, Baasik, The Living Tombstone

Use Me Up (VIP) - Paranoid DJ

All You Need to Know - Slander, Griffin

Summer Sunshine - The Corrs

✦ Vibe ✦

A teenager that just wanted to run away from any and all responsibilities gets the biggest Vibe Check of the century coupled with supernatural trauma and a bunch of friends that he thinks are twice as talented than him.

Warm summer nights in a big city, surrounded by the nonstop hum of traffic in the distance as the sun sets over the dark skyline that's mottled with buildings. Metropolitan life, secretly spending the night at a big shopping mall, listening to music on headphones.

Gritty underworlds swarming with crime, depravity and drugs, where the nights are stocked full with different ways to die or vanish without a trace. Neon lights on shady establishment doors, a distant sound that is probably a gunshot, loud music blaring from strip clubs near where limousines and bikes are parked, and the smell of smoke in the air.

Bioluminescent underwater reefs where merfolk thrive; vast, gigantic forests beyond the sprawling metropolis with avians flying from branch to branch; fancy penthouses and country-clubs secretly owned by the vampiric elite; teenagers playing cards in a shadowy alleyway - wearing thick hoods to hide their elven horns.

High tech laboratory facilities hidden underneath the grounds of a big tech's headquarters or deep under the bellows of the sea, sterile white hallways with thick reinforced glass enclosures where magical creatures are trapped. Metal study desks are filled with anatomical paperwork and diagrams, blood work vials stacked hauntingly in a shelf, while a strange glowing fluid seems to pulsate into a core machinery in the heart of the room. A desperate scream can be heard howling in the distance, but it is muffled by the whir of tools and the hermetic hiss of a lab disinfecting chamber.

The glitz and glam of the music industry's elite, lavish galas filled to the brim with the rich and famous - CEO, singers, actors and sponsors - in the finest buildings, yet constantly observed by secret government agents. Sparkling drinks and the scent of expensive perfume. A world of intrigue, murder, drugs and secrecy lying just beneath the surface of the dystopia's most ruthless gilded cage.

Tagging my Taglist:

@the-letterbox-archives

@kitty-is-writing

@sleepy-night-child,

@tabswrites

@kaylinalexanderbooks,

@smol-feralgremlin,

@oh-no-another-idea,

@littleladymab,

@little-peril-stories

@thelovelymachinery

@winterandwords,

@eccaiia,

@sarahlizziewrites,

@illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill,

@anoelleart,

@ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal,

@anyablackwood,

@forthesanityofstorytellers,

@finickyfelix

@i-can-even-burn-salad,

@cakeinthevoid,

@thepeculiarbird,

@clairelsonao3,

@memento-morri-writes,

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG