#is his name fucking t-rex or what???

[keeperofthoselost]

wait so if dex is short for dexter, lex is short for alexander, and bex is short for rebecca, then what the FUCK is rex short for

[batshit-auspol]

So a bit of background first for our international followers: Clive Palmer is one of Australia's many mining billionaires who like to meddle in our country's politics, and as such he is utterly despised by all of Australia.

Picture for context:

He is most commonly known online by the title "Fatty McFuckhead", (problematic as it may be) because he tried to sue a youtuber for $500,000 for calling him that - and he lost. So the name stuck.

Up until his most recent foray into parliament, the legally certified Fuckhead was best known for his batshit business ventures, such as attempting to build "The Titanic 2" (failed) and trying to build a dinosaur theme park (also failed, but at least nobody got eaten by a T-Rex in this one).

For a very long time Clive played the role of sugar daddy to Australia's largest conservative party, the ironically named Liberal Party, until they had a falling out in 2012 after Clive claimed there was too much money influencing politics (lol), at which point he started his own party, days after saying he totally quit and wasn't fired and he only left because he didn't want to be a distraction.

His initial run at parliament was actually kinda successful, with Palmer's group winning 4 seats, plus a member from the "Motoring Enthusiasts Party" joined them too after accidentally getting elected and not knowing what the fuck to do.

Despite this initial success however, Palmer's party (which ran on basically no platform other than "I'm rich") hit an iceberg (titanic 2 achieved) and seven elected state and federal politicians quit within the first year.

By the time the next federal election rolled around, only one Palmer party candidate was still running for re-election. The most successful of this group - Jaquie Lambie - quit to sit as an independant and is still in parliament today.

Here she is with a painting of herself strangling Clive (she sells signed copies of this)

And here the senator is posting about liking sausage:

Anyway, we're getting to the point: which is the yellow posters. By the 2016 election, just two years after forming, the party was in complete freefall. It won just 0.01% of the vote at their second election, and it was announced shortly after that Clive was quitting politics and the party was being shut down. Australia breathed a sigh of relief.

It was, of course, short lived.

Clive, in desperate need of attention, restarted the party for the 2019 election, fielding candidates in every seat and spending $60 million in advertising in an attempt to win votes.

Every single candidate lost.

It was in this campaign however that Australia really started to fall out of love with Palmer, because most of that $60 million went towards putting up the world's least compelling marketing billboards on almost every single free space in the country.

For a good six months this was basically the only thing you would see in Australia if you went outside:

Clearly Graphic design is his passion. And yes, the genius did just straight up try and copy Trump's homework while changing a few words, hoping nobody would notice.

Very quickly these all got vandalised and it seemed the ad companies didn't care enough to replace them.

We could go on posting examples, there are thousands, but the best is definitely the one Ikea put up shortly after Clive lost the election:

In 2022, Clive's party contested the election AGAIN, this time also opting to send millions on spam text messages to every person in Australia begging for people to vote for him, as well as buying almost every youtube ad for a year, at the cost of $100 million.

He won a whopping one seat.

During this election Clive ran on an anti-lockdown, anti-vax platform with the slogan "freedom, freedom, freedom". That message, however, was slightly undermined when his goons, dressed in 'Freedom!' shirts, made national news for trying to beat up a protester who turned up at a rally dressed as an annoying text message, shouting "pay your workers" at Clive.

As if that wasn't bad enough, at another rally Clive knocked himself unconscious while trying to jump up on stage, and then a few weeks later was rushed to hospital with covid, while his anti-vax ads were still in regular rotation on TV, at which point it was also leaked to the press that Palmer had been alledgedly trying to buy Hitler's car.

Utterly humiliated, the party deregistered again shortly after the election.

Can't wait until he runs again in 2025.

Anyway, on the other "Clive tweeting Miss Kobayashi's Dragon" thing, we have no idea what that means but here's a screencap:

[macfrog]

I miss our beloved scom family. How are they doing this fine day?

god, i miss them too. here's what they probably got up to today.

something blue 3.6k words | series masterlist warnings: y'all know the drill: being a mom.

Sarah leads Ellie, the way she always does, into the kitchen at seven a.m. sharp.

She stops by Joel first, squeezes into his size at the counter, and pushes onto her tiptoes. When he sidesteps to let her see (even though he point-blank refused to let you), she wraps two arms tight around her sister and hoists her up.

“Pancakes!” the three-year-old squeals, and loses her grip on her plastic dinosaur. He falls headfirst into the counter.

“Shh!” Sarah hisses, slinging Joel a disgruntled look. She sighs and swipes the T-Rex from his hand.

“The heck you lookin’ at me for?” he grumbles.

The girls eye you the entire walk over to the table. One as suspicious as the other. Sarah moves smooth, floats over to her spot with her chin skyward.

Ellie thumps at her heels, staring you down and almost stumbling into a chair.

“Careful, Nel,” you whisper, and her poker face cracks. You turn to Sarah. “I know it’s pancakes. It’s the only thing your dad ever figured out how not to burn.”

Joel’s shoulders jump. He swallows the laugh in his chest and says nothing.

Ellie sucks the chocolate clean from her dinosaur’s head. Last week, she decided his name was Bill. You, Joel, and Sarah are still trying to figure out where the hell she came up with it. Whoever he’s named after, she doesn’t like him much – not with the rate she lobs him around.

Kid’s an enigma. She suits it just fine.

She stares at you, still, as Sarah helps her up into her chair. Judders forward with each shove under the table. Comical, the two of them; like Pinky and the fucking Brain, you once told Joel – though you’re still not sure who’s who.

Your eyes drop to a stain on the toddler’s outfit. “You want me to wash that yet, Gagarin?”

She looks down. An arm swishes up to dab at the tangerine splotch. She grins, amused with herself, and shoves the dino back between her gums.

Sarah shakes her head. She turns back to you and flashes a trademark Joel frown. Eight years old and somehow, she manages to encapsulate the same fifty-six-year-old, unimpressed glower.

“Nel,” she turns, uttering between teeth, “You can’t wear dirty clothes today, remember?”

“I don’t think spacesuits are allowed at preschool,” you sigh as you push yourself up. “Much too sophisticated – huh, baby girl?”

Ellie giggles and flings her arms to the ceiling, sending Bill in a somersault across the table. She’s in nothing but pull-ups underneath the onesie – although it’s rare for her to ever be in much more than her pull-ups and, usually, one loose sock.

The suit means she’s feeling fancy. But what the fuck for?

All of Sarah’s leftover chaos, the magic she left in your veins after she was born, seems to have poured into her little sister. Smaller, mightier – more reckless, but not half as savvy.

Rarely seen without one of her prehistoric pals in her fist; evidence of what she had for lunch smeared around her lips. Chasing after Sarah, after Shimmer, after a butterfly that found itself trapped in her bedroom last month.

She scaled a chest of drawers trying to reach it. Joel caught her just in time. Some nights in bed, you can still feel his heart pounding from the scare she gave him.

Chalk and cheese. Sarah and Ellie. The former calm, composed. Candid and levelheaded, book smart and (alarmingly) wise beyond her years.

The latter – well.

It’s her first time on the planet, too, you try to remember.

You wander over to the washer, tossing the suit into the drum. You dig an elbow into Joel’s side and he flinches.

“Can I see yet?”

He turns, shielding whatever’s in front of him with a wide shoulder. “Not yet, baby. Not done.”

“You’re taking fuckin’ forever,” you mumble, pressing the words into his shoulder blade. From the corner of your eye, you watch the girls babbling to each other, scratching Shimmer between her floppy ears.

Joel twists, still hiding with his hands, and dots a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose. He smells like coffee and toothpaste. It still dizzies you every time he’s near enough for you to breathe it in.

“I’m almost done. Promise.”

You steal a kiss from his lips and smirk, stepping away. “Okay,” your eyes drift down to the counter, “If you say s…Alphabet sprinkles?”

His jaw slackens, moves like a bubbling fish. “Uh – they’re for – they’re for somethin’…Duck?” he clears his throat, “Tell your mom what they’re for, would ya?”

Sarah freezes. She stammers just like her dad. She does a lot just like him.

“A…a…a school project,” she says, and stares down at the dog.

“A – a – a school project?”

Your daughter nods. Still fixed on the smudges of sable around Shimmer’s eyes. “Bake sale.”

“You never told me about any bake sale,” you cross your arms, “What’d you make?”

She’s quick as lightning. “Cupcakes. But we haven’t made ‘em yet. Tonight, right, Dad?”

Joel’s voice is hoarse with panic. “Tonight,” he rasps.

You lean back against the counter, eyes shifting to the right. A different tactic. A rogue tactic, that’s for sure, but she has her moments. “…Nel?”

Your youngest looks up from her belly button.

“Not Nel,” Joel pleads, catching your eye for half a second.

“Why not Nel?”

His voice drops. “That kid would spill a state secret if you dangled a marshmallow in front of her.”

You tsk. “That’s mean. And wrong, anyways. The reason they have state secrets is ‘cause of kids like her. We should be proud, Miller.”

Ellie’s clutching the dinosaur when you look back over, chewing on his tail. She blinks back, and you wonder if there’s anything other than mastermind plans of mischief behind her eyes.

Joel says she has the same look in her eye that you do. Like you’re in on something the rest of the world has yet to catch up on. Twins, from the moment she stumbled ass over foot out of your body.

She talks just like you, and acts just like you, and – some nights, chatting sleepy gibberish under the slow turn of her rocket ship nightlight – you figure she must think just like you, too.

The perfect little riot.

Joel nudges you away, whispering, “Go on,” and you snicker, pushing off.

The sun combs through the room, glinting off cutlery and radiating from your daughters’ smiles. They chat and giggle and kick their feet; Sarah blows raspberries and Ellie sprays saliva all over the table when she tries to copy.

This is life, now.

You used to wake up to a silent house, sip your coffee and watch the oven clock count down the minutes until you had to leave for work.

You used to keep the radio on, even when you were out back – just to feel like someone was home with you. You used to sing to yourself as you flicked every light off at the end of the night.

Now, the laughter lives in the walls. It echoes even when you’re home alone. The oven clock counts down until there’s another pair of smaller hands in yours; until your man’s arms are back around your waist where they belong.

Come nightfall, you pluck odd socks and toy cars from under the couch. You tuck your children into bed, nuzzle your nose into their cheeks. You curl up beside Joel and trace shapes into his palm.

I love you, you write, some nights.

Dickhead, on others.

It takes a village, they all say. And sure, sometimes it does.

Sometimes, though, all it takes is two neighbors, a handshake deal, and a little bump named Duck.

“Woah, Nellie,” Joel chuckles, setting the first plate down. He clicks his teeth and taps a light knuckle on the girls’ hands, locked in a death grip. “Play nice. I got yours here, too, kiddo.”

Ellie straightens immediately. She watches, eyes fixed and glasslike, as her own breakfast is presented to her. And then she breaks into a wide grin, cheeks swelling. Her heels thud thud thud on the legs of her chair.

You lean over, cocking your head to see.

Two stacks of fluffy pancakes – a healthy dollop of chocolate spread on Sarah’s, and Ellie’s drizzled in golden syrup. Shards of strawberry and slices of banana scattered over the towers; blobs of whipped cream like clouds.

And on top of each, in clumsy sprinkle letters: Duckie and Nellie.

Sarah grins, two front teeth brand new and beautiful. She picks up her cutlery and raps them against the table, a nervous jitter about her.

You realize, just as her eyes flicker across yours, that she’s not beaming at her pancakes.

You realize, as he sways over to your side, that she’s beaming at him.

He’s holding two more plates. He sets his own down, a messy crater carved into the chocolate.

Your brows pull. “What happened –?”

“Bill happened,” he scoffs, shooting Ellie daggers.

She’s too busy tearing her stack apart, mixing a paste from syrup and cooked batter. There are few things the kid loves more than food and mess – and nothing she loves more than both at the same time.

She looks out of her mind happy, smothering the glossy mixture all over her cheeks, chewing in contentment.

“Like ‘em?” Joel asks, and you glance up.

“Yeah,” you laugh, eyes welling, “I love them. What’s the occasion, Miller?”

“Just…” his head wobbles as he considers it, “…we wanted to ask you somethin’.”

You turn to Sarah.

She’s still smiling, wider than you’ve ever seen. So bright that you worry she might shatter the glassware on the table.

“We?” you ask, smiling much the same.

She gives nothing away, and yet, at the same time – everything. Her knee bounces with excitement. Her breathing quickens.

“You wanna read yours?” Joel asks, tilting the plate in his hand.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you sniff, “I’m scared.”

He lowers the plate.

The letters blur in and out of focus as you blink.

Red, green, yellow, pink. The second M is an upside-down W. The Rs lean into each other, chocolate pushing from the middle of the letters. A question mark crafted from a C and half of another letter.

Your lungs jump, though you knew it was coming. Though you’ve talked about it for months, now.

Let’s just get it outta the way, make it easier for the girls when we’re older. Few forms to fill out then it’s done. We don’t gotta make a big deal of it.

Can’t afford to make a big deal of it, anyway.

Wouldn’t want to make a big deal of it.

You’ve never been one for big deals.

This is a big deal. This is a big fucking deal, Joel.

All multicolored, flecks of whipped cream on them. Silly little alphabet letters.

Marry me?

Joel kneels as you swivel around to him. He kisses your cheek, takes your hands, rubs his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Look,” he says, voice trembling, “I know we said we wouldn’t make a big deal of it. But…you gotta let me make a big deal of it, honey. You gotta let me make a big deal of you.”

You laugh, tears spilling down the front of your shirt. Your heart is pounding, body alight with nerves or excitement or both, in one lightning bolt of feeling.

It’s everything you ever wanted, and nothing you ever expected.

“Everything I have –” Joel says, “– the kids, the house, the dog – I found it all with you. Because of you. I love you so much, and I can’t – I can’t take another minute that we’re not…”

His hands squeeze yours, and you swear you feel your pulses align. Beating together, two hearts on the same bassline.

He swipes the tears from your cheek, catches them in his palm. “…It don’t have to mean anything, I know that – but you, darlin’…you mean everything. What do you say we go do it?”

It’s the easiest thing in the world. And not just because you knew it was coming, knew to expect it soon enough.

Joel could’ve asked you the minute you found out you were pregnant with Sarah, and you reckon you would’ve said yes.

It’s easy. Loving him is so easy. Being with him is so fucking easy.

Coffee at sunrise, low volume TV in the bedroom. Skin and sheets, marks on your neck and chest and thighs. Laughter for breakfast, homework for dinner. Two bodies squeezing into one tiny shower cubicle, Joel’s hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles.

“Today,” you whisper, cupping his jaw. “I want to do it today.”

“Today?” his eyes flash over your shoulder to his daughters, “We gotta take the girls to –”

“No, we don’t,” your head shakes, “Do we have a marriage license?”

“Got it last week.”

“Then they come with. We get all dressed up, all four of us, and head down to the courthouse. We’re married by the end of the day.”

He laughs, loose and disbelieving. Shakes himself back into the room. “Today,” he repeats. “As in, right now?”

“Right now, baby.”

“Okay. Yeah, alright. Today.”

“Ask me.”

Joel’s cheeks lift. Tears disappear into his beard.

You lean forward, lining your forehead against his. “Ask me, Miller,” you whisper.

It’s no big deal. It’s a regular Wednesday. Packed lunches and dinosaurs with Nutella in their teeth.

It’s no big deal, but when he asks you, time stops.

“Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yeah, I will.”

Sarah takes forty-five minutes to apply your mascara, some powder, and a pink lip. She promises she’s being neat, and you tell her you don’t care – you’ll love it either way.

She says she knows, but she promises she is anyway.

Ellie curls up in your lap and twists your necklace around her fingers. She asks four times if her spacesuit is dry yet.

“Ellie,” Sarah warns – and you know it’s serious when she uses her sister’s real name – “You can’t wear a costume to a wedding.”

“Mama is!”

“No she ain’t! Brides are s’posed to wear white. Mama’s dress ain’t white. What you got on is fine,” she decides.

Ellie knows better than to keep arguing. She catches her heel in her hands, huffing. “Wanted to be an ass-traut.”

You catch Sarah’s eye. Don’t.

She bites her giggle.

“You are an astronaut,” you squeeze your toddler, “Our astronaut. Whether you’re in your spacesuit, or you got your big bare butt out for us all to see.”

She giggles into herself, a sound sweet enough to convince the sun to rise at dawn. Her baby teeth are small and wonky. She snorts, settles in your arms again, and watches Sarah lean in with the lipstick.

You lift your chin, holding steady. “Is Dad ready?”

She pauses, letting go of her breath. “He says he’s been ready the last half hour,” she mutters, and dabs more color on.

“Is he nervous?”

Her eyes lift. Eyelashes long and thick – black mascara that you made her pinkie swear she’d wipe clean the moment she gets home.

She smirks. It’s like looking in a mirror. “Are you?”

You press your lips together, blending the pink. “Little bit. You think that’s a good sign?”

“Mhm.”

Sarah straightens, capping the lipstick. She smiles at her masterpiece. “You look beautiful, Mama.”

“Well,” your chest fills, “I’m only beautiful ‘cause you made me that way, Duck.”

Joel’s voice sails upstairs and into the little pink room.

“Courthouse is closin’, sun’s almost down, they’re diggin’ my damn grave already. Are we good to go, or what?”

Sarah grins and leaps over an upturned toybox in the middle of her room. She pirouettes out to the landing, pursing and then smacking her lips together.

You fix Ellie’s skirt and lead her out after her sister. “’s go, Nellie.”

“Mama,” she tugs at the fabric, “I gotta…Need…need…”

“Shit,” you whisper, watching the ballerina twirl downstairs to her dad. “Uh…Duckie?”

“Hi, pretty Duck,” Joel calls, catching her in his arms. He spins her around and the skirt of her dress billows.

Her little heels click when he lets her down. She keeps on spinning, watching herself in the mirror.

“Baby?” Joel calls. “Y’all ready?”

“Nel’s gotta go!” you reply.

He scoffs. “She nervous or som’?”

“Or som’,” you sigh, walking the kid into the bathroom.

Ellie takes about as long as a three-year-old should, to be fair to her. It requires an amount of determination that right now, neither of you have the focus to lend it. Potty training doesn’t wait up, even for weddings.

Eventually, she announces with a triumphant shout that she’s done, Mama! – and claps her hands as the toilet flushes.

You carry her downstairs, heels clunking on the solid wood. At the bottom you set her free – and she sprints out to join her sister on the lawn.

The pair run circles around one another. They cartwheel on the grass; they race Shimmer and use the flowerbeds as hurdles. They dirty their dresses – ivory stained with bursts of green – though they look better that way, anyway.

They take turns playing Swingball with the only remaining racket (a mysterious disappearance that neither will own up to, and both are most certainly involved in). Sarah tells Ellie that she won – and the smaller girl throws her fists in the air and roars in victory.

Joel stands on the porch, hands in his pockets, watching. Even from behind, you can see the shape of his cheeks: he’s smiling. He crosses one foot over the other and taps his heel against the wood.

You emerge from the house slowly, quietly. “We didn’t get matching corsages this time,” you say, and he turns.

He starts, as though he glitches for a second. As though his world tilts on its axis, just from looking at you. His expression softens, his lips curve into a smile.

Then he breathes a laugh – a shaky thing, like he’s seventeen again, watching his homecoming date saunter over.

“That’s alright,” he replies, and slips a hand into his suit pocket. He fishes out two white tulips. “Remembered Alice dropped these off the other day. Here.”

Delicately, lighter than the breeze, he tucks the flower behind your ear. He steps back to admire his work, just like his daughter did.

All the best parts of you, you reckon, are the parts that are loved by them.

“How do I look?” you ask.

Joel sucks in a shattered breath. “Beautiful,” he chokes, like it’s all his voice will allow. He sniffs, drags his knuckles across the bottom of his nose, and says, “You ain’t never looked more beautiful.”

“Your turn.”

You take the second tulip from his fingers and drop it into his breast pocket, turning it until it looks perfect. “There,” you pat his chest, “Now we both look beautiful.”

He steps forward, dipping his head to kiss you. Arms around your waist, hands splayed on your back. He laughs against your lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is,” he mumbles, tugging at the pale material.

“It still fits!” you say, running a palm down the smooth silk. Flashes of light, a squealing guitar, heated kisses and a thudding bassline. It spins past your eyes as he leans in again.

He tastes the same. Less alcohol, sure – but that same, sweet-as-honey, instantly intoxicating taste. Like you were a goner before you even hit the mattress.

You look back up, and Joel’s eyes are on yours.

“After two kids, it still fits,” you whisper.

“Hm,” he muses, glancing down. His hands slip around your ass. “Looks even better than it did then, Mama.”

You laugh against his lips. “It’s my something blue.”

“Oh, yeah?” He lifts an eyebrow. “What else you got?”

“Well, something borrowed –” you hold your left hand up, a plastic ring glinting in the sunlight, “– Duck gave me some of her finest jewelry. Something new –” you wiggle your earlobe, “– Mother’s Day earrings, and…something old…”

Joel tilts his head. His expression tightens, tightens, tightens – until he understands. He clicks his teeth and steps back. “Funny. You’re so funny, I ever tell you that?”

You giggle, letting him drag you across the porch. “I’m just bein’ realistic, man. What else do I got that’s as old as you?”

He ignores you. It makes you laugh even harder.

It always did.

The wind surfs through silk, lifting your skirt as you stride over the driveway. Your hands stay interlocked – and you know that, secretly, Joel’s as nervous as you.

He whistles and his daughters look up.

“Serena, Venus,” he calls, nodding to the truck. “Get in.”

They skip over. Sarah takes her dad’s hand – the picture of royalty as he aids her up into the backseat – and Ellie swings into your arms.

You strap them in, point fingers to warn them not to bicker, and climb in the front.

The doors slam closed and you exhale slowly. Two kids aren’t any more complicated than one – especially in yours and Joel’s case – but holy shit, they’re tiring.

They compare dresses in the backseat. What color is yours, Duck? Pink, Nel. Is mine’s pink, Duck? Yours is yellow, Nel.

Joel’s hand slips around your knee. He smiles. Gives your leg a little squeeze. He flicks the radio on, and an Eagles track sways through the cabin. He fixes the tulip in your hair, peppers kisses along your wrist.

His voice is as soft as Henley’s, when he asks –

“Wanna go to a wedding?”

[junopersonified]

Under Your Skin - Ian Malcolm

Includes: Ian Loves to Tease, And Patronise, Bratty!Reader, Jealous!Reader, PwP, Oral (M Receiving), Car Sex, Riding, Consensual Choking, Slight Voyeurism? Size Kink, Spit Kink (I Apologise).

The air was hot and thick with trepidation.

You’d been stuffed into the back of one of the tour cars for over an hour now, stuck directly outside the T-Rex pen, and your patience was wearing thin.

In the midst of the Southern American Summer, paired with an oncoming thunderstorm that rumbled in the distance; the car was sweltering.

Beside you, Dr. Ian Malcolm, who had no shame in stripping from his leather jacket down into his thin black button-up, with the top few buttons undone.

From out of your peripherals, aimlessly flicking through pages of Dr. Grant’s book (Tim had given it to you to read in the journey towards the park’s reception, the kids having stayed with Ellie to look after the sick Stegosaurus), Ian’s chest shone with perspiration.

You had to psychically stop yourself from crawling over the backseats and lapping the salty sweat up.

But you refrained for once, out of pure courtesy for Alan—sitting in the front seat, who did not need to witness that—and because you were in a mood with Ian.

Earlier in the ride, before meeting with the ill dinosaur, Ian couldn’t resist flirting with the paleobotanist.

As he traced over Ellie’s hand, whispering about his beloved ‘Chaos Theory’ and paying her sweet compliments, his gaze had raked over your figure in the front-seat beside Ellie.

He tugged his plush bottom lip between his teeth, dipping his index and middle finger into a near cup of water. You had to squeeze your thighs together quickly (thankfully unbeknownst to Ellie or Alan, who too had an envious glint in his eyes as he watched the interaction), which Ian definitely did not miss.

You knew Ian’s had a penchant for meaningless flirting and even thought it was harmless, anger coursed through your veins.

Truly, you had not right to be upset—you and Ian weren’t a couple, just friends with a fucked up relationship dynamic. A couple years back, you were one of Ian’s college students before earning your PhD in taphonomy.

Throughout your time having Ian as a professor, neither of you could ignore how Ian’s gaze never seemed to leave yours as he explained something, or how your slender hand traced across his thigh as you thanked him for helping you on an equation.

It was an honest coincidence that John Hammond had both invited you to Jurassic Park on the same week.

At first you’d internally squealed when you spotted Ian at the heli-pad, but now you just wanted to leave.

You didn’t want to see Ian Malcolm’s smug face ever again.

.

.

.

That was a lie.

Despite how irritated you were, you couldn’t stay angry at Ian for long. Especially not when his hips bucked upwards slightly, adjusting his black jeans that had rolled up his large thighs in a way that oozed sex.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” Ian questioned, his gum smacking as he chewed it vigorously—your knees felt like jelly.

Gritting your teeth, turning a page, you responded, “I’m fine. I just want to get back to the centre and have dinner.”

His laugh echoed in the car, that sort of growl and rugged sound tugged at the corners of your lips, but you resisted the small smile that tried to weasel its way onto your face.

“You’re pretty squished there, why don’t you shuffle over, plenty of room back here.”

You scoffed, “Perfectly un-squished, actually.”

Resting his elbow against the window, his head supported by his fist, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You scared? Don’t be scared.”

His voice came out as a light coo, it irked you that he was talking down to you so. However a coil turned in your stomach at the pet name.

“Not at all, are you scared, Dr Malcolm?” You asked sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes up at him.

“I am, petrified, hysterical even, think you might need to help calm my nerves down.” He teases calmly, signifying for you to move on closer with a wag of his fingers.

Alan stared at you through the rear-view mirror, sipping at his water bottle uncomfortably. Rolling your eyes, you slammed the book shut, not worrying about loosing the page you’d been skimming over for the past 10 minutes.

“If you insist.” You huff, as if Ian’s request was the worst thing imaginable—secretly you loved his determined tonation. Scooting into the middle seat, he tutted.

“Come on, I won’t bite, unless you beg for it.” He leant into your ear. Goosebumps pricked at the slick skin at your neck at his cool, minty breath.

You hesitated.

Before you could inch further, large warm palms wrapped around your waist, picking you up and gently placing you down.

Now, your cargo-clad legs burned as they stuck against Ian’s jeans. From here you could smell his cologne, you were desperate to press your nose into his nape and inhale his scent.

He politely tugged your thin shirt back over your stomach as it had risen up slightly.

“Much better.” Ian winked at you behind his sunglasses, patting your lower-thigh gingerly, interestingly enough forgetting to removing his palm though.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here for?” He asked Alan. The palaeontologist shrugged, checking his wrist watch, “If we’re lucky, half an hour?”

Ian nodded, his free hand scratching at the stubble around his jugular—that looked so appetising under the moonlight.

Suddenly, an idea sprung to his mind. You could tell by the way he slid further into his seat, slyly raising one of his eyebrows.

You almost jumped when the pad of his finger began to circle your smooth skin.

Swiftly, slapping at his hand, gaping into his hazel eyes with the intention of scolding him for being so shameless—his finger pressed against your lips.

Your chest heaved, as his wrist slowly moved back to your leg, only further upwards now. Exhaling deeply, your eyes squeezed shut when he pinched at the fat of your thigh, he gazed at your attentively before speaking.

“Say, don’t you want to check on Gennaro up there? Must be lonely all on his own, with only his fist to keep him company.”

Alan’s eyebrows furrowed, why did Ian suddenly give a shit about the jobsworth, lawyer.

“He can beat one out to insurance and company negligence, I’m sure he’s alright.” Alan retorted, unknowing as to what was going on behind his seat.

At that point, Ian’s fingers grazed over your throbbing heat, tucked behind the small cargo shorts.

Although you gnawed at the inside of your cheek at the thought of Alan spotting you two, a certain thrill tingled at your spine, stemming from the area Ian was touching.

It was getting trickier to stay silent, only deepened when Ian pressed a featherlight kiss to your temple, neck to your hairline that was brushed with sweat.

“You got any cigarettes tucked away in those lovely shorts there?” Ian asks loudly, already knowing the answer, patting the tops of your back pocket.

Peering into the back seat, Ian’s just quick enough to retract his touch before Alan sees.

Ian knew Alan hated smoking after nearly entering a heated debate in the helicopter about carcinogens. This would surely shoo him away.

“Seriously?” Alan groans, throwing himself back into the head-rest. Ian raised his hands defensively, snickering to you whilst he popped a stick between his lips.

Without another word, Dr. Grant kicked the door open and rushed towards the other tour car, the rain beating down on his bare arms, leaving you and Ian alone finally.

“Well, that was easier than predicted—see, the Chaos Theory strikes again.” You shake your head at the older man’s antics, reaching for the lighter in his leather jacket’s pocket.

Bringing the flame closer to the cigarette, he took a long drag as it lit, leaning backward to exhale the smoke into the car’s already stuffy air.

You couldn’t look away, the slight bob in his Adam’s apple, the way his tongue pokes at his cheeks, the silver dog tag danging around his thick neck sticking to his glistening chest.

His low whistle and the cigarette waved in front of your face brings you back to reality, you mutter a small apology before hastily inhaling the smoke.

“You started smoking, you’ve grown up fast.” He comments, and you nod steadily, brushing ash off your shorts.

“I’ve always been grown—at least since we first met.”

“‘Course, but back then you had this innocence about you. Like a little deer in the headlights during some of my lectures.” He chuckles lowly, stealing the cigarette back.

“Mmm, only because you’d prefer to tell us about your night at a bar instead of… teaching us?” Ian purses his lips.

“I think I was with ex-wife number two then.” He mumbled, rubbing at the crease between his brows, cigarette perched between those irresistibly large fingers. “How many wife’s you on now? Must be what… 5?”

Chuckling he shrugs, “Ask me after the trip, and I can give you a definitive answer.”

From squinting out the window into the T-Rex pen, you head snaps to meet Ian’s lustful gaze. A thick cloud of smoke swirls through the car now.

The lighthearted atmosphere thickens, into something hotter—more passionate.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You question, subconsciously leaning further into his body so your faces are inches away from colliding.

His whisper’s sultry and soft, you can feel a mean throbbing between your legs, “Whatever you want it to mean, sweetheart.”

Gazing down at your lips and back into your eyes, milliseconds later, his lips press against yours in a deep kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist to pull you into his lap, instantly straddling him.

He was significantly larger (in all departments) than you, and your legs ached as they clamped over each of his, lips still attached.

Pulling away for a moment, his lips followed yours until you pushed his shoulders back down, he grumbled taking another drag.

His dumb sunglasses, he insisted on wearing day and night, obstructed his gorgeous chocolate eyes—you needed them off immediately.

Pushing them further up into his head, Ian got the hint and chucked them into the passenger seat.

Wrapping his forearm around your neck, he drew you back in for another kiss. Except this time, his tongue teased at the seam of your lips, respectfully asking for entry rather than barging in.

Your tongues tangled and your teeth clashed, it was a messy kiss—but neither of you cared.

You could still taste the mint-gum residue mixed with the cigarette smoke, which would usually make your hurl, but on Ian, it only amplified your arousal.

Hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt, you rolled your hips over his bulging crotch , trying to get as close as physically possible.

Chests and hips flushed, Ian began to press wet pecks against your cheek, dancing over your flushed cheeks before kissing your jawline.

Placing your chin on his shoulder, he licked a long strip from your collarbone to your neck, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that had your stomach tensing and eyes rolling.

“Goddd, I need you to touch me, now.” You whined, your tone seemed demanding, which Ian caught on to immediately,

Pulling away from your neck; that smelled so strongly of your signature perfume that made Ian’s cock twitch; Ian tutted when your eyebrows furrowed.

“Do I have to remind you of who’s in charge here?” He raised an eyebrow in question. You narrowed your eyes and took a drag of the discarded cigarette Ian was still holding and blew the smoke into Ian’s face.

“Go on then.” You uttered, lips grazing Ian’s eyebrow as you pressed a curt kiss to his temple.

Instantly, Ian shoved you off his lap and you landed in the footwell. Your head almost smacked against the drivers seat, but Ian was quick to save you, cupping your head in his large hands.

Fumbling with his belt buckle and zipper, you instructed he relax and take a minute, despite your taunts a mere minute ago.

Passing him the smoke, your dainty hands worked their way at pulling his jeans down his hairy, tanned legs, leaving him in some navy boxers.

You almost drooled at the sight of his happy trail, dipping down into his boxers. The outline of his cock was barely visible under the fraction of light from the moon offered.

Nibbling at his thigh, you almost squealed in delight as he twitched, parted lips emitting a low groan. He was getting impatient.

“Easy there, don’t want to strain yourself too much.” You pout, kissing up his legs until your lips reached the cotton material.

His hands massaged down your back, until they reached your shorts, palming the meat of your bum as you pulled at the waistband of his boxers, to which he almost whined at.

“I might explode if you don’t touch me soon, I’m not in my prime anymore, you know.”

You snickered, kneeling up to kiss his lips sweetly, “In your old age, of course.” He laughed, lightly slapping your cheek.

Finally, you tugged his pants down until they hung loosely around his ankles.

By now, pre-cum was beading at the head of his dick. He was definitely above average in length, and the girth was proportional too.

His heavy balls visibly tightened as you flicked your tongue at them, spreading his legs slightly with your hands.

“So filthy, who would’ve thought?” He chucked lowly, heartily and breathlessly as you kissed your way up the side of his length until you reached his head.

“You obviously don’t know me well enough.” You shrugged, wrapping your mouth around him and bobbing your head slowly.

Staring up at him under your fluttery lashes, Ian could feel himself come undone almost immediately.

The warmth of your mouth and the tightness was just too much for him, you could feel him pulse around you, swivelling your tongue over his tip.

With a loud hiss, like he’d cut himself, he came. Shoving your head down until your nose nestled into the dark curls around his cock, he used your mouth like a ragdoll.

Removing his hands from your hair (that was most certainly tangled and matted by how harsh he was gripping) you didn’t come up for air.

Ian shuddered as you breathed through your nose, tickling his lower abdomen, still suckling at his soft cock that still bashed against the back of your throat.

Slapping your cheek, swallowing his cum that hadn’t already been shot down you, you released him with an audible ‘pop’, moaning at the sight of the flustered mess above you.

“I’d like to say we are more than well acquainted, especially now.” He gasped, rubbing at his cock that was quickly turning hard again. “You think?”

Taking your own shorts and panties off now, you jumped up into Ian’s lap. Your pussy rubbed against his cock, lubing him up with your saliva and wetness.

“You want to take control, baby? Want to ride me in the car, when Alan and Gennaro are just metres away?” Pouting innocently, you nodded.

“God, you are such a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ian Sir.” A guttural sound escaped him, wrapping his arm around your waist, one hand pressed against one of your cheeks, he lifted you up.

The tip of his rock hard cock smacked against your clit as you grabbed it. Smacking Ian’s tip against your heat, you sank down, taking inch by inch, going deeper and deeper…

Both of your moans filled the smoky car, hopefully the pattering of rain would muffle your noises for Alan and Gennaro’s sake.

Tucking your head into the nape of Ian’s neck, he cooed as you shivered, moving your hips in a slowwww circle.

“Sweetheart, you think you can do it on your own? I know it’s a biggg stretch, but you can take it.” He praised, you whimpered as his hands gripped under your thighs, lifting you up and down on his cock manually.

After a minute or so of Ian helping, you placed your hands on his shoulders and bounced yourself. “So fucking good, needed you so bad.”

Ian stared at your blissed out expression, your eyes creased as you whimpered out his name, baby hairs stuck to your sweaty face.

Your thighs began to burn as you picked up the pace, perspiration pooled in every crevice of your bodies.

His balls slapped against your bum and the smack! of your thighs on his was pure heaven.

What almost pushed you over the edge after a few minutes was when Ian’s large hand came to wrap around your neck.

At first he didn’t apply any pressure, just resting it there whilst his other hand toyed with your clit. “You want it? All you gotta do is ask, sweetheart.”

Nodding, you breathed out incoherent sentences, words blurring into the other as you pushed yourself deeper and ground your hips.

“Nuh uh, use your words for me now.”

“Yes! God thank you, harder, harder.” You screamed, placing both your hands over one of Ian’s squeezing your throat tighter.

“Don’t be thanking other men, I’m the only one pleasuring you, not him.” His stomach tensed as you giggled, face contorting when his head touched that spongy spot inside you.

“You’re my God the way you feel inside me…” you blurted out, fumbling for oxygen as you rapidly reached for your first orgasm.

Pleasure came tumbling down on you like a house of bricks, pressed flush against Ian, you lazily slumped forwards so your chests pressed against the other.

“That good, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows, laughing when you rolled your eyes and replied.

“Don’t get too cocky, Dr. Ian. You came almost immediately after I got my mouth around you.”

Smiling into a kiss, Ian lifted you up so his cock fell out of your slick pussy, a trail of your cum dripped down onto his sensitive balls that still needed to be milked.

“Think you can take one more for me?” Ian asked cautiously, you were totally fucked out, your brain turned to mush as you smiled deliriously at him over your shoulder.

“Use me, never know when we’ll see each other again so don’t waste your time.”

Growling like he was in heat, he slapped your bum and turned you over so your hands pressed against the window, knees bent underneath you.

He plunged into you, your only warning being his hot breath against the shell of your ear as he moaned.

“Your mine to use, huh? Could tell we’d end up like this. No Chaos Theory here, just inevitability.” He waffled, his mind hazy, forearm pushing against your stomach.

Ian could feel his cock in your insides, which only spurred his movements fasted. Pistoning his hips whilst his fingers darted into your mouth, covering them in spit.

Eyes glossing over tiredly, you looked over your shoulder and made eye contact with Ian. Your back pressed against his sticky chest, hair tickling his upper arm when you leaned back.

His lips connected with yours instantly, letting out a deep sigh when you tugged at his coco curls.

“So tight, can feel you pulsing around me. Feels like pure ecstasy.” He whimpered, biting at your neck that was turning red from his earlier grasp.

You could tell he was approaching his second orgasm by the way his hips began to falter, but so were you.

Rubbing furiously at your clit, your impending release creeped up your spine and exited with a loud cry, shuddering around Ian’s cock.

“I love you, Ian.” You moaned. Even though your brain was practically mush and Ian was drunk off the feeling of your skin and sound of your sweet moans, you truly meant it.

“I love you too, so so much.”

And so did he.

“Fuuck… I’m cumming, did so good f’me, so fucking hot.” With that, he painted your insides with thick spurts of hot cum.

If you weren’t so drained and overstimulated, you might’ve come once again when he grabbed your chin.

“Open nice and wide for me, honey.” Peeling your mouth apart, a glob of his saliva slowly dripped down onto your eagerly awaiting tongue.

Removing himself from behind you, he sat you down in his laps and cradled you.

“Swallow for me.” You did, sticking your tongue out for him to check after.

“Good girl. I’m so proud of you. A star, top quality performance.” He joked, pecking your cheek lovingly as he traced hearts over the crescent of your waist.

“Weren’t so bad yourself, Doctor.”

A few minutes later, when you’d both gotten back into your clothes, the tour cars began to move again. However all you could focus on was the man above you, wittering on about everything and nothing.

You didn’t know what was meant for the both of you; with the implied future proposal; the fact you’d both have to go back to your own lives; but one thing was for sure, you loved Ian Malcolm and he loved you.

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

This took way too fucking long- Everyone, gaze upon the Megatron/Galvatron height chart I made. If someone could get me a cold drink, I would love one, I have been working on this for the better part of a month. 26 separate designs, for one character, across 40 years of history. And I had to exclude a couple, the grand total is like 30 different ones. I left those four out because they were just pallet swaps of a design I already had; It felt redundant to include them.

This guy just can not decide if he's named Megatron or Galvatron sometimes, he just switches between the two names at random. I think in Unicron Trilogy, he switches to Galvatron multiple times, and yes, he does switch back to Megatron before every one.

My brain is kinda broken after finishing this. I worked on this one and the Optimus one at the same time (the optimus one is so much bigger holy shit-) and I've lost the ability to feel pain at this point.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Links to my Bumblebee Chart and my Optimus Chart. !!NEW!! -> Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag. Hopefully, my bumblebee post is acting up and idk if the same issue will happen here.

Master Post

Explanations below the cut, I have to justify myself for a few of these.

G1 Beast Wars V1 - ~9 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, he's so small. Dinosaur Man is so small)

G1 Beast Wars V2 - ~10 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, This fucker has roller blades. I'm not fucking with you, they gave the T-Rex Roller Blades and he uses them)

G1 Beast Machines V1 - ~12 Feet (PMEG. The Wiki doesn't have any numbers for Beast machines, sadly, but I found an old forum post comparing the heights to the Beast Wars designs, so I win)

G1 Beast Wars V3/Machines V2 - ~13 Feet (PMEG. The TFWiki says this bitch is like 11.5 meters tall, but no, I've done the math, he is not. If he was, Rattrap, a character who is consistently stated to be 1.8 meters tall across multiple sources in multiple languages is actually not that tall. So no, he's about 2 and a bit Rattraps tall, and that translates to about 13 feet. And I'm pretty sure he reverts into this at some point in Beast machines, though correct me if I'm wrong)

G1 Beast Machines V3 - ~16 Feet (PMeg. This design is identical to the Optimal Optimus design so I'm gonna be lazy and use that number. Not like I have many other options.)

Beast Wars 2 - ~16 Feet (Galv. Idk, the wiki had the number and his name is Galvatron, was I supposed to ignore this? Never gonna watch it, but here it is)

Earth Spark - ~16 Feet 2 Inches (Mega. There are no actual numbers for Earth Spark (yet), but I was able to find Bumblebee's height, which I then compared to Optimus's height, and now I can compare Optimus and Megatron.

Yay!- he's so short it's so fucking funny tiny short man universe)

One V1 - ~17 Feet (Mega. I am aware, of the supposed "Canon Heights" listed on the wiki. 32.462 feet, allegedly. But, have you considered A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon. AND ALSO Meg is taller than Optimus the entire movie but his height is listed as shorter than him on the wiki. They are the same height by the end of the movie, I call BULLSHIT Walmart; these are not actual numbers I will ignore them POST HASTE! Sadly, Megatron has yet to appear in the KCV live-action movies as I make this, but we know Meg and OP are the same height by the end of TFOne, so knock a couple of feet off this one, and we get pre-cog height)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet (PMeg. Slightly confusing, but there are two Megatrons in this universe, but they are two completely separate characters. This is Predacon Megatron, design-wise identical to his V1 Beast Wars counterpart, but he is much taller in this universe. So I did some admittedly deranged comparisons to other characters and I got this height. It's a similar ratio to Prime & Primal's height difference so I'm running with it)

Gen 1 V2 - ~ 18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. So the Wiki failed me on this one, but- and maybe this is backwards thinking, the WFCT Galvatron is this height, at least comparing him to WFCT Megatron, who I've decided is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron, who we actually have a number for- I am aware it's convoluted but it's all I got)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. Okay so, Galvatron and Megatron are entirely separate beings in this universe, which is a large departure from Gen 1 where they're effectively the same guy, which means I could compare their heights, and this is about the height Galvatron is. And I have decided that the WFCT Megatron is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron because they're nearly identical otherwise, making the assumption that the Galvatrons are the same easy. The amount of hoops I have to jump through sometimes...)

Gen 1 V1 - ~19 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Hey look, it's the guy that's the foundation of like 5 other character's calculations)

Prime Wars - ~19 Feet (Mega. As I've said before, I have decided that this design is the same height as the Gen 1 design, because they're identical, yes one is 2d, and the other is 3d but I don't care)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~19 Feet (Mega. You already know what I'm going to say; it's identical to Gen 1. Just try and stop me)

Unicron Trilogy V2&3/ENG&CYB - ~19 Feet (Mega/Galv. He flip-flops so much in this universe, I think Megatron becomes Galvatron 3 separate times. For the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. These are the designs used in Energon (S2) and Cybertron (S3). The Wiki had Cybertron's numbers but not Energon's, so for my own sanity, I decided the two were the same height. I could have done something in between Cybertron's and Armada's (S1) numbers, but there was a lot of float between the two)

One V2 - 19 Feet 10 Inches (Mega. As I have stated in the previous One entry: I don't trust Walmart, Meg and OP are the same height by the end of the movie, and the KCV LA and One are kinda one universe. Optimus is this height by the end of the movie, therefore so is Megatron. How many times do I have to explain this)

Cyberverse - 21 Feet (Oh sweet, sweet "I don't have to justify or explain my numbers, I have a source". This comes from a screen-shot of this video which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screen shot is iffy. If anyone has a better one, I would love to see it)

RID 2001 - ~22 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. Why are there so many Megatrons who become Galvtron at random and look functionally identical to each other why does this keep happening. Also this guy transforms into a hand)

Unicron Trilogy V1 - ~23 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. I am very tired, we have another functionally identical Megatron Galvatron conversion and I am in pain)

Bayverse V2 - 30 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki, Movies 4 & 5. This time, they're actually identical, and Mr. Bay has once again blessed me with numbers from all of his movies)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - ~30 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Look man, I don't know how he grows nearly five feet between the games and the shows, it's just what the video game info screen said)

Animated - ~31 Feet (Mega. Animated has no actual numbers, but the lovely @phoenix-inanis has provided a frankly astounding resource with their own calculations for the heights of all the TFA characters. Go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Aligned Cont. TFP V1 - 34 Feet 5 Inches (Mega. Yes, this is from Fandom. But, and I will continue to say this until my lungs give out, this entire universe is just fucking enormous. Look, I believe Bayverse is the most consistent tf universe when it comes to the transformers' models and designs, and if we do some comparisons between characters with similar listed heights (I did it at the end of this post), it's way too close for me not to believe it)

Bayverse V1 - 35 Feet (Mega. TFWiki, Movies 1-3. Look at this bitch, getting his secrets exposed by Mr. Bay. Look at him, he's going to shrink down in the forth movie, gonna get dumped down to 6th place on the podium. Get Shrunk, Idiot)

Aligned Cont. TFP PR V2 - 42 Feet 7 Inches (Mega. Look at this enormous bitch, look at the freak standing there, fuckin enormous n' shit. Wack ass Unicron- Did you know that this is probably the TALLEST base form transformer ever? Excluding any super modes or upgrades or a transforming Cybertronian Base/Spaceship, just default general body size, I'm pretty sure this Megatron is the tallest Regular transformer ever)

Not Pictured: RID 2001 Galvatron Pallet - ~22 Feet (the only thing that was different between the two designs was the colours, if felt redundant to include it), Unicron Trilogy Galvatron Pallet(s) - Armada: ~23 Feet, Energon/Cybertron: ~19 Feet (Again, just the colours changed, otherwise everything else was the same)

I have done it. I have conquered my Everest. I have finished the big two charts. If anyone has any suggestions for which transformer I should aggressively analyze next please tell me I don't know which ones to do next

Here are the different layers separated out into their own pictures, I know it's kinda hard to tell everyone apart when they're all on top of each other.

[ahsoka-its-all-of-us]

Random tattoo headcanons because why not

Jesse has “Property of the Republic” tattooed right above his ass.

Anakin has a very cheesy tattoo of a lightsaber crossed with the royal mark of Naboo on the inside of his wrist. Padmé forbade him from tattooing her name as it would be a dead giveaway if he would be examined for medical reasons, which happens quite often.

He also has his mother’s name tattooed, on the inside of his upper arm.

He lost both of these tattoos when he became Darth Vader because his skin was so badly burned. Though symbolic for him severing ties with his old life, a deeply buried part of him holds a grudge against Obi-Wan for this.

Ahsoka has a tattoo of Rex’s jaig eyes between her shoulder blades.

Rex has a tattoo of Ahsoka’s facial markings on his right shoulder.

Kanan has a tramp stamp saying “Fuck with Force” that he got when he was drunk off his ass. Hera teases him with it sometimes. When Zeb found out he laughed so heard he fell down the Ghost’s ladder and bruised a rib. He considers the knowledge worth the pain. Kanan’s deepest fear is the kids (and Chopper) finding out about it, and Zeb relishes is using that to shamelessly blackmail him.

Contrary to what many people expect of her, Sabine doesn’t have any tattoos; she likes temporary design better, just like she repaints her armour often. She is a wizard with henna and body paint, though.

Kallus has his designation ISB-021 tattooed on his bicep in white ink, making it look like he was branded with it. This was done voluntarily.

Eli has a single blue T tattooed right over his heart. When Ar’alani finds out she doesn’t know how to talk to him for three days straight.

Thrawn doesn’t have any tattoos, but Faro has multiple times caught him looking up Lysatran art and tattoo designs.

[libraryofgage]

Life in Miniature (One)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedediah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One (you're here!)

There will be more Jedtavius in the next parts I promise, I just thought this would be a funner introduction to the AU lmao

I just love those little guy dudes from the museum so much hfjdks and now we get two pairs of them

Also, fun fact, I took Steve's Roman name from, like, an actual king of Rome. The actual sixth king. He seemed like a chill dude.

Anyway, there's a meme at the end and as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

---------

When Robin took this job as a night guard, she didn't think the previous guard's words about history coming to life at night was, you know, real. She thought it was a joke, a predictable and corny joke, but a joke nonetheless.

But now, after being chased by a T-Rex, getting saved by Theodore Roosevelt, and almost being taken captive by fucking Attila the Hun, Robin thinks this job definitely isn't worth $16.50 an hour. Then again, this is the best paying job she's had in a while, and she was living a nocturnal life anyway.

Robin groans, leaning against a wall in the diorama exhibit, and slides down to the floor. She lets her head fall back against the wall, her eyes slipping shut as she slides. "This is crazy. This is insane. I need to find a fucking weapon or something," she mutters.

"Pardon me," comes a voice close to her head, "but might you be the goddess Diana?"

As pick-up lines go, it's not the worst one she's heard. And, based on what she knows of Greek and Roman deities, it wouldn't be too far off. Still, she does not want to be hit on by whatever weird historical thing is trying to flirt with her.

Robin takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and says, "Do I look like a goddess to you?"

She looks to her left where the voice came from, blinking when her gaze falls on a figurine that would barely reach her ankle. He's dressed in a toga with a chest plate, wrist guards, a sword on his waist, and a deep purple cape over his shoulders. His hair is, honestly, the most impressive thing Robin has ever seen, made only more impressive by the golden laurels resting perfectly against his temples.

He's looking at her with wide eyes, more awed than anything else. "Yes," he says. "I have heard the gods are larger than life."

Okay. Fair.

"Why Diana, man?" Robin asks.

He tilts his head, studying her for a moment, looking her up and down. "You give me the same feeling as statues of Noble Diana with her Huntresses," he explains, pausing for a moment before adding, "A feeling of kinship, perhaps?"

Oh. This...this is like ancient Roman gaydar, right? Robin snorts and turns, resting her elbow on her knee. "I'm definitely not Diana. My name is Robin. I'm the new night guard."

His eyes brighten some, his smile growing wider and certainly charming enough to make the hearts of a few girls and guys flutter. "I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army."

Robin nods, letting all of the those words process in her head before saying, "Mind if I call you Steve? You look like a Steve."

The Sixth King of Rome blinks, looking slightly confused before his eyes light up with understanding. "Ah! A nickname! Yes, I am familiar with this concept. You may call me Steve, Lady Robin, as a show of our newfound friendship."

"Yeah, don't call me Lady Robin. Just Robin is fine," she says, hesitating before offering her hand to Steve.

"As you wish, Just Robin," he says, stepping carefully onto her hand and remaining steady as she raises him higher.

Robin blinks, frowning slightly and about to correct him again when she sees his smile and realizes it's a joke. "Okay, very funny, dingus," she says, carefully poking his side.

"Is dingus another nickname? It sounds like an insult."

"It usually is, but it's affectionate when I say it."

"Oh! Yes, like when Ockie calls Jed a philistine."

"Uh, sure," Robin says, nodding once as she lets Steve move to stand on her shoulder. He quickly sits, holding onto the collar of her jacket as she carefully stands up. "Hey, you know what I'm supposed to do about the dinosaur bones?"

"Rexy? Yes, he enjoys a game of fetch."

"Fetch. Of course."

----------

"What's going on in that head of yours, little man?"

Steve blinks, looks over at Jedediah, and raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm taller than you," he says, gesturing to the good inch he has on Jedediah.

"As long as you're my son, you're a little man."

Doing his best to not laugh, Steve nods once and points to the new diorama set up in the middle of the room. It's a circular diorama, centered on an equally circular stage divided into sections. A cacophony of noise echoes from it, clashing as each slice of the stage fights for dominance. "I'm trying to figure out what in Jupiter's name they're doing over there," he says.

"Well, most of it sounds like music," Jedediah says, "I think."

"It's not any music I've heard before," Octavius says, coming to a stop next to Jedediah and frowning at the diorama. "I would have assumed it the unholy shrieking of the damned."

"Perhaps it would be nicer if they weren't all playing at once," Steve suggests, hands on his hips as he tilts his head.

"Oh, boy, there it is," Jedediah says, his grin audible in his tone. "He's got the King Face."

"What are your intentions, my boy?" Octavius asks.

Before Steve can answer, Robin strolls into the room, grinning when she sees the raving diorama in the middle. She walks over to Steve, Jedediah, and Octavius, crouches down, and says, "Hey, guys. I see you're checking out the History of Rock display."

"History of Rock?" Steve asks.

"What in the sweet hell do rocks have to do with that mess?" Jedediah asks, gesturing to the noisy stage.

Robin rolls her eyes. "No, like, rock music. It's a genre. Anyway, it was sponsored by some musician, so it's a permanent display now."

"And they will be...playing every night?" Octavius asks.

"Probably."

Steve frowns a little more and nods, rolling his shoulders back. "If they are a permanent fixture in our hallowed hall, they must be welcomed. As Sixth King of Rome, this duty falls upon my shoulders. Fathers, I shall return shortly."

"Woah, woah, hold your horses there, little man," Jedediah says, moving to stand in front of Steve. "You're not going anywhere near that snake pit without some back up."

"A few centurions, at least," Octavius agrees.

"I will have Robin. What better protection is there?"

Jedediah and Octavius glance at each other before looking at Robin. She grins and offers them a two finger salute. "I'll guard him with my life," she says, "It's literally my job."

With that reassurance, Jedediah and Octavius move out of the way. Steve steps onto Robin's hand and settles on her shoulder with practiced ease, ignoring the nervous flutter in his stomach at greeting the new museum residents. He hopes they'll get along, but he also knows the might of his Roman army and the railroad workers can crush any who stand in their way.

Robin stops next to the diorama, tilting her head as she studies it. This close, Steve can see the bands playing on each slice of stage, the instruments and fashion shifting as his gaze travels around it. "Uh, excuse me," Robin says, raising her voice.

The raucous noise from the diorama screeches to a halt, the feedback making Robin and Steve grimace slightly. "Uh, hi. We're the official welcome crew for the Hall of Miniatures here. So, I'll need someone to represent your, like, whole display," Robin says, glancing over the bands until she finds one she recognizes. "Okay, I know you guys, so I'll be designating you the spokesband. Now, could the lead singer step forward?"

Steve watches as someone on the "Corroded Coffin" (what an odd name for a band) slice of the stage steps forward. Robin offers her hand to them, carefully lifting it away once they step on. "Great, uh, carry on, I guess. But, like, maybe play some of your quieter stuff for a bit," she says, her words barely out before the music starts up and the crowds start screaming once more.

She sighs and just walks over to the bench, letting off the person on her hand before letting Steve slide down her arm in a move they spent nearly three weeks practicing if only because they knew it would look cool.

When he hops onto the bench, Steve walks up to the other miniature, a man his age with long hair and odd clothes with tears that Robin once said were fashionable. His instrument is still slung over his shoulders, resting casually against his hips much like Steve's sword. Steve suddenly finds himself thinking that the man looks a little like a warrior. An odd one, to be sure, but a handsome one nonetheless.

He flashes his most charming smile, lets his shoulders relax, and says, "My friend here is Robin, Guardian of Brooklyn. I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army. You, however, may call me Steve."

-----

As far as Eddie was concerned, nothing mattered so long as Corroded Coffin got to keep rocking in an endless concert. The energy never waned, the set list never grew boring, and the music never stopped. He was ready to inform this welcoming crew of just that and promise Hell on Earth if they tried to disrupt the music (angry concert goers are a force of nature), when the words just died in his throat.

Because the most gorgeous man he's ever seen slides down that giant lady's arm, easily and smoothly landing on the bench. Somehow, his hair is perfectly windswept, the golden laurels glinting in the lights above them. His purple cape flutters softly as he walks closer, his toned thighs on full display with the toga hem that falls to the middle of them. There's a sword on the guy's hip, a chest plate that Eddie wants to pull off, a smile he wants to taste, and a pair of freckles right next to each other on the guy's cheek he wants to drag his tongue across.

He misses most of the introduction because he's too busy staring. He gets the important bits, though: Robin, a king, son of a god, adopted son of two dads. Eddie licks his lips nervously, a grin of his own tugging at his lips as he steps forward and playfully bows. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," he says.

It's supposed to come out joking, a little poke at the guy's authority to see if he can be riled up. It actually comes out way too genuine, and Eddie has a sudden realization that he meant it. He absolutely will accept this guy as his king, actually. He'll fall to his knees before him right now if asked, and not just because it might give him a little peek under the dude's toga.

"Please, just call me Steve. There's no need to be so formal."

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, hoping Steve doesn't realize that the things Eddie is thinking about (the things he wants to do to and with Steve) are just about the least formal things on this earth. "Good to know," he says, relieved his voice sounds normal as he stands up straight and offers his hand. "Name's Eddie Munson, uh, lead singer of Corroded Coffin."

Steve blinks, and his smile becomes a bit more genuine as he steps closer and clasps Eddie's forearm. "A fellow leader," he says, squeezing Eddie's arm. "Welcome to our museum."

"Y-yeah," Eddie says, his arm still tingling when Steve lets go. He clears his throat, idly tugging on a few strands of hair. "So, uh, what's the deal around here? I mean, giant women...Roman kings...cowboys, it looks like."

"Our noble museum is home to Pharoah Ahkmenrah and his tablet, which brings the exhibits to life each night," Steve explains.

"There's a few rules, though," Robin says, sitting down on the bench behind Steve. "One, no getting into fights. Two, be back in your display by sunrise. Three, no leaving the museum at night."

"What? Why not?"

"We have lost good exhibits to Sol Invictus's morning rays," Steve says, frowning slightly. "So, be careful."

Eddie stares at Steve with wide eyes as he nods, amazed at the fact that Steve seems to talk like that so genuinely. And the fact that Eddie is...kinda into it. Holy shit, that's not helping with Eddie's whole "fall to his knees" thing. He wouldn't mind some good old-fashioned worship if Steve would just smile at him again.

Maybe his prayers are heard, because Steve smiles at him again. "Wonderful," he says. "Now, Eddie, could I interest you in a tour of the museum tonight?"

"Oh, you could interest me in a lot of things, sweetheart," Eddie blurts out, his mouth running faster than his brain.

He snaps his jaw shut, relieved and horrified at Steve's slightly confused expression and Robin's "I know what you are" thousand-yard stare from over his shoulder. Before he can try to backtrack, Steve snaps, understanding in his eyes. "Ah! Sweetheart is a nickname, yes? I accept your offer of friendship."

Eddie clenches his jaw, stopping himself from saying that it's more than friendships he's offering, and smiles. "Yeah. A nickname. That's all. I'm just...a nickname kinda guy. I'll probably think of more, too, Stevie. Like that."

Steve practically beams, and Eddie feels his knees go weak. "I look forward to it," he says, turning on his heel to look at Robin, who thankfully schools her expression. "Robin, this is where we leave you for the night. You have my word that Eddie will be back in place before sunrise."

"Well, you two kids have fun," she says, grinning in a way that immediately puts Eddie on edge. "I'd better not hear about any funny business, though. Absolutely no bases should be reached tonight, and you'd better not do any conquering or pillaging."

She definitely looks at Eddie when she says that last bit. Eddie stiffens, doing his best to hold back a blush when Steve glances over at his, the confusion clear on his face. "Conquering requires more planning than this, Robin. I've told you before."

"Don't worry about it, dingus. Just have fun. Here, I'll even call a ride for you," she says, winking at them before turning, holding her fingers to her mouth, and whistling sharply.

Steve walks over to Eddie right as the ground starts to shake, easily catching him around the waist before he can lose his balance. "The shaking does take some getting used to," he says, his tone full of sympathy and obliviousness to the crisis Eddie is experiencing.

When his brain finally catches up enough to ask what he's talking about, a dinosaur skeleton slides into the room, its body wiggling excitedly as it growls. Eddie jerks back, the arm around his waist tightening some. "What the fuck?!" he shouts.

"Worry not," Steve says, leaning closer. His voice is a little softer now, his breath fanning over Eddie's ear. "This is Rexy, our steed for the evening. He's very friendly."

"Friendly," Eddie mumbles, letting himself be dragged over to Rexy and placed on the dinosaur's head by Robin. "The dinosaur is friendly."

"Many of the exhibits are," Steve tells him, grinning brightly as Rexy begins moving after a pet on the snout from Robin.

Eddie looks at him, feeling blinded by Steve's smile once more, and completely forgets about the living dinosaur skeleton.

--------

Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

(Also I know there are like one or two upcoming parent AUs that people have asked to be tagged in and I tried to see if this was one of them but couldn't find anyone for the life of me hfjdks so I'm sorry if you asked on another post and I missed you orz)

And, finally, a meme for you

[evilfloralfoolery]

Lights, Leather, Action!- Part One

Cold-ridden, snzy stripper shit coming your way lol.

Grimm and Indigo are sent on an undercover assignment where neither knows the extent to other's role.

Imagine Indigo's surprise when he's dropped off at the local strip club and his lover is the fucking entertainment. Neither is allowed to break character. Neither can risk allowing their connection to each other to be known. But there's no rule that says they can't pretend to get to know each other as "strangers."

And Grimm loves a fucking challenge. And he's just come down with a the most horrible cold. However will he manage being a sexy AF "stripper" with something like that? -dramatic music intensifies-

Grimm's dance is done to this version of this song.

_______________________________________

“This is absurd.”  Indigo finishes buttoning his shirt and glances over his shoulder.  “Why would I not be informed of the details of this mission?”

“Because,” Grimm says. “You gotta pretend you’ve never seen me before in your whole goddamn life.”  

He gives his reflection the once over and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind one ear.  Typical black t-shirt.  Ripped jeans. Same old boots.  Yep, Indigo wouldn’t suspect shit. 

Well, except for the fact that he is currently nursing one hell of a cold.  Which Indigo is, in fact, all too well aware of.  The man had been watching him like a hawk all afternoon. 

When he wasn’t forcing Grimm to drink whatever gross-as-fuck tea he’d concocted. Not that any of it had done a damn bit of good. Grimm’s voice already had plenty of gravel, but this is a new level of rough depth.  Probably not a bad thing, considering just what he was about to do.  

The near-constant prickle in his sinuses surges to a sudden burn and he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle a shuddering “Hhkg–UHhSSCHu! –uuhHKGISCCHHshu!”

Damn. Should've grabbed a tissue for that shit.  Maybe a towel. 

“Bless you,” Indigo says, his tone a mix of exasperation, concern, and plenty of “come fuck me now.”

Which would have to wait.  

He does, however, pass Grimm a generous handful of tissues.  Because this ain’t something a handkerchief handle.  Needs a “once and done” kinda thing. 

“Thanks, Indy.” Grimm gives himself a much-needed sinus clearing and tosses it into the trash without so much as looking. “Look, I gotta go.  Rex is gonna drive you out there.”  

Indigo says nothing.  Looks cross as hell.  Grimm smothers a laugh into his palm.  Yeah, no surprise there.

“I’d say ‘don’t worry about it,’ but you’re gonna.”  He grabs his partner by the front of his belt and jerks him into a tight embrace.  “I’ve been doing this shit my whole life. It’s gonna be fine.” 

“I know that,” Indigo mutter-hisses into his shirt.  “It is your health that concerns me.” 

More chuckling. “It’s just a cold, Indy.  I ain’t dyin’.” 

“Yes, yes.”  Indigo fists a handful of the black fabric, tilts his face up to get a better look at Grimm’s expression.  “Regardless of that fact, I would much rather have you in my care.” 

“Uh huh.” Grimm smirks.  “I just bet you would.” 

Before he can so much as protest, Indigo has tugged him into a kiss that has a fuckton of heat and zero concern for catching whatever Grimm might actually have. 

“Go on, then.” Indigo brushes Grimm’s hair away from his face.  “Do as you must.” 

Oh, he would, alright. 

Grimm pulls at the fabric of Indigo’s gray trousers with a decisive snap.  “Hope you don’t like these pants.” 

______________________________

“Rex, where in the name of the gods have you taken me?”

While Indigo is more than familiar with the city and all of its grandeur, this is just beyond its limits, somewhere on the outskirts verging on questionable territory.

“You’re about to find out.”  Grimm's associate shuts the SUV off and grabs his keys from the console.  “Come on. Just pretend we’re two gay-as-fuck bros out for a good time.”

Indigo huffs. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m so totally serious.”

“Great gods.” 

While Indigo has never entered such an establishment, he is aware of its purpose the moment his foot touches the inordinately tacky carpet.

Surely not.

“Rex.” Indigo grabs his arm and presses himself against the other man’s body so as to be heard over the booming absurdity attempting to call itself “music.”  “You cannot be serious!” 

“You said that already.” Rex runs a hand through his black and blond hair and offers him a lopsided grin.  “Come on, Indigo.  I’ll buy you a drink.” He throws an arm around his shoulders and leads him through the crowd.  “A strong one.”

Well, he would need more than that to cope with the barrage of sensory nonsense currently assailing him. Strobing, multicolored lights. Headache-inducing bass thumping through his entire being. Carpet that looked as if it had been designed by an acid user.  Not to mention the hoards of screaming women.  And more than a few gentleman as well.  To use the term loosely.

And enough naked male flesh on display from both patrons and dancers alike. 

Despite being dressed in casual modern clothing, Indigo himself feels as if he is on display, given the lurid gazes of those in the crowd.

“Don’t sweat it,” Rex says. “They just think you’re pretty.” 

Indigo doesn’t inform the man of what he truly sees.  Amidst the sweltering throng of humans are Others.  At least one for every ten humans.  An inordinate number gathered here, indulging in the perversion of sexual excess and libations. 

Behind the rims of his glasses, his eyes flash brilliant blue but for a moment before he stills his instinctual overdrive. He is here merely as an observer. A “human” observer.

Is Grimm posing as some sort of bouncer?  It was not as if he hadn’t done that manner of work before. 

Rex hands him some manner of clear liquid in a shot glass which he does not bother to consume.  The level of alcohol it would take to so much as touch his consciousness would cause the demise of several grown men. 

It takes him a moment to realize that Rex has guided him to the front of one of several stages, which was absolutely not where he wishes to be under any circumstances.  

“What in the name of the gods are you doing?” He starts to stalk in the opposite direction, but Rex clasps his wrist with a firm, decisive grip.

“Nope. We’re standing right here.” 

Indigo shoots him a look that could freeze lava. “I think not.” 

The deejay’s voice booms over the sound system, announcing the end of one dancer’s routine and welcoming another to the stage.

“Alright all you ladies and gents out there, we’ve got a debut performer for you tonight and goddamn, it’s a good one. Make some noise for Remmington Wolf!” 

Indigo rolls his eyes. Honestly, where did these men find these ridiculous–

The raucous, sexual noise of guitars assaults his ears, but it is not the ungodly noise that stops him short.

No, that would be “Remmington Wolf” swaggering onto the stage, clad in leather and straps.  

Indigo’s jaw nearly drops before he catches his composure in the midst of crumbling.

Grimm. 

Grimm, strutting across the stage like he owns it.  Grimm, ripping that black tank top from beneath the straps that cross over his extremely naked and tattooed chest.  

And approximately one hundred screaming humans suddenly crowding the stage from every angle. 

Great gods.

Grimm drops to the floor, his hips grinding suggestively against a shadow of nothing, body undulating in ways that were never meant for public consumption. A shower of money and frenzied attempts at touch surround him.  The “leather” pants are suddenly gone, ripped from his body much like the shirt and discarded who knows where, leaving him standing in the shortest excuse for black spandex shorts Indigo has ever seen. 

And the boots.  Knee high and covered in straps and buckles that match the ones criss-crossing his chest.  

It is then that his gaze locks onto Indigo and he drops to his knees, crawling towards him some sort of lurid predator intent on the certain demise of his prey. 

Sweat beads Indigo’s brow at the sexual slink of Grimm’s approach and he stands frozen, unable to retreat or react. Grimm rises to his knees and reaches for him, hand tangling in his hair, the roll of his hips an obscene invitation. 

Screaming, hormonal madness in every direction. Grimm’s face so intensely close to his, mere increments from his lips, that lascivious smile curving his mouth. Energy crackles between them, unseen to those around them, but clearly visible to Indigo.  

Grimm is a fantasy of leather and sex, his body bending in ways that Indigo did not think him capable of. 

He pulls back and rises to his feet, his wandering touch focusing on one of the many women absolutely begging for his attention.  Just for a moment. 

Indigo doesn’t miss the hesitation in his stride, the way he suddenly ducks into the crook of his elbow, the unmistakable shudder of those broad shoulders. 

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Heat suffuses his entire being as Grimm’s wandering gaze targets him and that cocky smile curves one side of his mouth.

The bastard.  The absolute great bastard!

Everything about his partner has been reduced to strutting, undulant carnal deviance. And all Indigo can do is stare at him like one of the slavering buffoons stuffing handfuls of money down those indecorous shorts.

The music tapers to silence and the audience emits a collective shriek of inane delight worthy of several pairs of earplugs. 

Somewhere above it all, the deejay is rambling whatever drivel comes after a performance, but Indigo’s attention is locked onto his partner who is currently at the opposite end of the runway-like stage, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, laughing with raucous enjoyment over something a bouncer has said. 

It takes every ounce of control Indigo can muster not to part the crowd with his raging appetency and drag Grimm into the nearest corner and—

“You good?”  Rex nudges his shoulder and Indigo blinks, snapping back to reality.

“Yes,” he lies stiffly. 

Rex laughs. “No?”

Indeed not. Rex truly has no idea.

_____

Grimm pops the cap off of his third bottle of water and takes a deep swig. That had been a lot of damn energy.  Funny, because he doesn’t feel even a little bit tired.  

He should, though. Even if his cold was just some garden variety bullshit, that didn’t excuse him from the relentless symptoms.  

One in particular. 

He snatches a handful of napkins from the bar and barely manages to clamp them over his mouth and nose.

“---UHSCCHHHu! Hhh’uh-KGSSSCCHHuh!” 

Damn. Barely any warning. Maybe if it wasn’t so fucking cold in this place. A double whammy for sure.

He takes a moment to struggle into some actual leather pants, which doesn’t do a goddamn thing, but it doesn’t matter.  He’s got better shit to do.  

Making his way through an ocean of admiration is only moderately weird, but he’s interested in one particular target and that’s the one currently giving Rex an earful.  Fuck, he can only imagine. The kid is laughing, which probably isn’t the smartest thing, but at least Indigo doesn’t look too pissed.  “Frustrated” is definitely the best word for that look.  He’s seen it pointed at him more times than a firing squad.

As if sensing his approach, Indigo ceases whatever he’s dishing out to Rex and turns to face him, expression neutral, posture proper but deceptively normal.

Grimm isn’t buying it. Not for a second. 

He adopts all of the cocky bullshit he can muster and puts a deliberate swagger in his stride. 

Rex excuses the hell out of himself before Grimm reaches the edge of the table where neither Indigo nor Rex had actually sat, leaving Indigo to fend for himself against whatever advances he might make.  That is, if he tried to do that shit. 

“Hey.” He tosses his dark hair over his shoulders with all kinds of ridiculous finesse.  “Saw you watching.  You like what you see?”

Indigo arches one perfect eyebrow with such an air of boredom, Grimm almost buys it.  

Almost. 

“Perhaps,” he says. 

Hmm, he’s good. 

Grimm steps closer, the fingers of one hand grazing the sleeve of Indigo’s shirt with a feather-light touch. “You got a name?” 

His partner does not so much as flinch. “I do, but you may call me ‘Ice’.” 

Grimm almost chokes on the laugh that bursts out of him before he can even do a damn thing to stop it. “Hmmn, okay, Ice.” He lowers his head just a touch, a gleam in his eye. “Guess you heard who I was since you couldn’t take your eyes off of me.”

“I believe I missed it,” Indigo “Ice” says.  Like he’s so goddamn disinterested, he can’t stand himself.  

Well, now. This shit is gonna be fun. 

“Remmington,” Grimm says. “You think something that long will fit in your mouth, Ice?”

Indigo lifts his chin. “I suppose it would depend on if you prefer ‘Remming’ or not.” 

Did he just . . .

Grimm leans against the column beside the table. “You’re a real smartass, aren’t ya.” 

“You are not the first to accuse me of such a thing.”

Maybe Grimm would have said something equally smartassy back, but standing under an AC vent has won over a spicy comeback.  And this is way better.

He brushes a knuckled finger against his nose with a cringe, makes a show of standing there for a moment, fights against it with more visuals than necessary. Indigo’s gaze is cool and steady, his posture now straight, but not rigid.

Grimm’s expression begins the descent from brash to desperate, his breath hitching with an uneven, almost ragged stammer. 

“Hhh-huuh!  Hhuuh. . .! UHCHSSHu! Hkgh’UHSSCCH’u! —Uhh-KGSSSSSH!”  

To hell with covering. He leans to one side and gives Indy the full fucking show, right down to the full body shiver.  Which he can’t help anyway, but fuck it.

“Goddamn,” he says with a shake of his head. “Fucking freezing in hee-hhhuh! Hh–NXGT–shhuh!” He leans against the support pillar with a thick, congested sniffle.  “Fuck. Excuse me.” He flashes Indigo a lascivious smile. “Might have a cold or some shit.” 

“Bless you,” Indigo says with such polite indifference that Grimm laughs like a stupid asshole. “Perhaps this would be of some use to you?”

The icy bastard waggles a folded handkerchief at him, holding it between two fingers, and Grimm smirks. “You won’t want it back when I’m done with it.” 

“I had no intention of wishing for its return,” Indigo says.

Grimm takes a step towards him, his fingers sliding to clasp the thing, but caressing the edges of Indigo’s pale hand in the process, taking his time to pull it free of the proffering grip.  

Just in time, too. Grimm buries his nose in the folds with a dramatic disaster of an encore, doing nothing to stop himself from unleashing hell from whatever the fuck his sinuses are doing right now.

“UHHKGSSCH!-UHSSCHu! UHH-KGISSCHHUu! Good goddamn.” 

Indigo’s expression softens just for a split second and Grimm nudges the tip of his dress shoe with one boot. 

“Bless you,” Indigo says, the frost in his tone warmed for the briefest instant, a context clue no one but Grimm could possibly decipher. 

“Thanks,” Grimm says. He barely manages to stop himself from saying “Indy.” He recovers with another, more subdued nose blow and pockets the handkerchief.  “Wanna buy me a drink?”

Indigo “Ice” chuckles with a thread of something wild.  “I suppose I might.” 

(TBC....)

[stars-n-spice]

RAAAAHH BAD BATCH SECOND GENERATION!!

Behold! Silly Squad ten(ish) years later after the rescue on Mt. Tantiss!

Or aka my "Somehow the clones magically age normally and Tech is alive" AU in which they all get happy endings and their own families :)

And yes the cadets and Sami also get adopted by the families :D

I will probably post more in depth things about each individual family later but there's some basic information like what their lives are like on Pabu, what the kid's names mean, how they got adopted, and so on about each under the cut!

Guardians Family - The Yuns

Hunter and Jung decided to adopt Mox and Sami (who didn't want to go back to her family)

Later they find and adopt Huihana, thus completing their family!

But it doesn't account for all the other kids Jung and Hunter have adopted mentally and spiritually since they run a school on Pabu

Huihana means "lily/lotus" in Maori and 'Hana' means "one" in Korean

Huihana is half human and half Mirialan - later on when she's older she'll get tattoos similiar to Sami, Mox, and Jung's

Huihana is two years old and the youngest of the Second Gen kids

Mox gets the Pantoran facial tattoo to match with his sister :)

Sami ends up being Jung's padawan basically and ends up adding to her facial tattoo to match the ones Jung has

The family runs a school/camp! Mainly for Force sensitive kiddos, but Hunter also teaches them practical stuff as well

Hunter and Jung are the last of the couples to get "married"

I say "married" because they're already practically married (in a QPR) but they have a whole celebration for the sake of Omega

ScompScope Family - The Cossas

Echo and Viram decide to adopt Deke after he starts to join them on their missions with Rex and Chuchi

And then they have two sons of their own - Tikan and Zisanu - once they feel they've done their part and finally settle down

Put the three together and you get "Dee," "Tee," and "Zee" (that was a complete coincidence btw)

Tika[n] means 'Heavy' in Tsonga

Zisanu means 'Five' in Chichewa

Yeah, their names are meant to honor Hevy and Fives :) I thought it would be fitting

Rex is their godfather (and is totally not bitter about them not being named after him, totally not at all)

Echo and Viram continue to do rebellion work for a while before finally deciding to settle down once their part is done

Every now and then they do go and help Rex though, usually they'll take Deke with them and leave the two others with their Tíos since they're still kinda young (T and Z are not super happy about it)

When they're on Pabu, Echo helps wherever he can and Viram continues her work as a medic and helps out at the clinic

Third of the group to get married - they'd already waited long enough and they decided it was better late than never because they'd pushed off their relationship for the sake of their duties

Starburst Family - The Nultez Clan

When you have a clone and a Mandalorian as parents, you're going to have a TON of kids

Khea had already taken Itri as a Foundling before her and Wrecker got married

Wrecker and Khea adopt Stak in a heartbeat and he becomes a Foundling as well

Marama and Maia are twins (32 minutes apart) and are absolute trouble makers

Marama means "moon/bright" in Maori (fitting with the Star motif of Khea)

Maia means "brave/confident" in Maori (fitting of her personality and her parents')

Elio means sun (again fitting with the star motif of Khea, and going alongside Marama)

Dha'ika is Khea's cat and Lula is the kids' cat

But to be fair, they have a TON of other pets

They basically run a farm on Pabu - Khea still is a mechanic on the side and helps fix things up around the island

First to get married - they'd been dating the longest and it was spontaneous

Techphee Family - The Genoa Family

You do NOT want to mess with the Genoa siblings - they're a force to be reckoned with; intelligent as all hell, charming as fuck, witty, resourceful, talented pilots - they have it all

Except for good eyesight :/

Vela is farsighted

Rangi is nearsighted

Vela means "viligant/watchful" but it's also the name of a constellation taken directly from the Latin word for the sail of a ship (which is fitting considering Phee is a pirate and Tech and her are both phenomenal pilots)

Rangi means "Sky/heavens" in Maori (again, fitting that pilot thing)

Honestly, Rangi is just Mutant Mayhem Donnie if I'm being 100% honest with you (even his voice, I imagine it to sound like Micah Abbey's)

This family is all over the place - while they have somewhere to stay on Pabu, usually they're out exploring the galaxy together and doing various fun (dangerous) things

They practically live in Phee's ship - and they love it honestly

They always bring back souvenirs and stories for everyone whenever they return back to Pabu

Second of the group to get married - you can bet that after supposedly losing Tech, Phee made sure to tie him down and put a ring on him

Sharpshooters Family - The Marr Family

Last ones to adopt because Tay's not confident he's good with kids (it's the one thing he actually doesn't think he's good at)

Because of Tay's insecurities, Crosshair was fine with it just being them but deep down he really did want a kid

So when he was out on a mission helping Echo and stumbled upon an orphan, he didn't hesitate

Took a while for Tay to accept it though because he was terrified he might hurt their new daughter or something, but he soon proves to be a natural

Meet Akona Marr! She's half Nautolan and half Pantoran!

Akona means "to enthuse" in Maori (fits her personality)

She gets a crosshair tattoo to match her Pa and Tay gets something similar and he also caps off his horns so Akona doesn't hurt herself since she likes to climb him

Akona is nonverbal and has a tendency to bite people but her Dads love her anyways

She is spoiled ROTTEN though because like with Crosshair, Tay cannot say no to her

They're a family of fishermen! Tay and Akona are both amphibious races so they enjoy being in the water and Crosshair's enhanced eyesight helps spot fish in the waters despite the glare from the sun

Fourth of the group to get married - Tay took too long to ask (he was nervous) and Crosshair never really expressed wanting a wedding because of everything that went into it and all the attention that was going to be on him during it

💫 Tag List: @stardume 💫 Join the silly squad taglist here! 💫 Silly Squad Masterpost

[campbenji]

*JWCT SPOILERS* very messy first thoughts

OH BOY here we go

-ben and darius's dynamic was epic. the hug. the roadtrip scenes. "is your friend okay?" "no 😊". ben getting darius out of his isolation cabin and darius grounding him in ep2. the parallels with s3ep7. "you kiss your mother with that mouth?" i'm gonna be thinking about that scene for days. their ship is still a swim to me but please they better keep whatever the fuck they have going on in s2 because it's fucking wonderful

-i love that they took the chance to give more light to duos we didn't see much in jwcc. teamups we didn't often see like ben and sammy, THE B-DUO, and darius and sammy got very special moments here

-the amount of pictures/videos from the six years in between??? the brooklynn flashbacks??? we were so well fed

-BRAND!!!!!! i got so happy when i heard him the first episode, he's clearly been checking on his brother and i'm glad he's ok

-bowman family FEAST. brand and darius talking over the phone. the pictures on the cabin. kenji saying he calls mrs. bowman once a week and all the nice things he said about her. the whole mess between kenji and darius. "we're brothers, right?" i died dead. i love this family your honor

-sammy. she's got so much going on and we desperately need to talk about it. i'm so worried about her, she's desperately trying to avoid confronting what happened with brooklynn, with yaz and her own trauma, and then they casually dropped on us that her family isn't speaking to her and never elaborated on that?? sammy, who's love and care for her family was her biggest motivation in jwcc?? i need to know what happened because it must've been big

-mateo!! i liked him a lot, he definitely doesn't want to get into any of this mess but still dabbles around a bit to help the kids, which i respect. also i hope we get to meet his daughter hiraya, she sounds really cool

-MS MICROBANGS (or the handler, or whatever name we're calling her). what is her deal. who is she working for. she's so uncanny, literally almost robotic i need to know more about her

-brookenji over i cheered. don't take this personally i've never been a fan of this ship and a part of me knew they weren't going to last long

-the animation increased in quality so much. the scene after ben, yaz and sammy get out of the sinking van is so well done it's so pretty to look at. and the t-rex with the explosion behind her? it reminds me so much of toro in the tunnels in s1ep8, and i haven't tested this out but i feel like if you put them one next to the other the improvement would be so noticeable.

-also related to the point above: that thing when a character's eyes start filling up with tears but they don't cry just yet? 10/10. chef's fucking kiss

-sure jwct has the same tv-y7 rating as jwcc, but from minute 1 it's obvious it's not the same audience they're talking to. it's not a big change in tone, like for example adventure time/distant lands/fionna and cake, but it's there, you can tell they know it's not little kids watching anymore

-BUMPY IS HAVING A BABY BUMPY IS A MOM NOW they had me shit scared for her and then they pulled a freaking egg my heart was literally pounding. anyways i hope they get both bumpy and the egg somewhere safe and that they name the new anky "speckles" (i've gotten so attached to that name in the last 24 hours it's insane)

-YASAMMY THE QUEENS THAT YOU ARE. their relationship was stellar this season, i was scared when i saw that they were apart but their issues felt organic to their relationship and i just love how they were written in the show, they are still so in love with each other and i can't wait to see where they go next season. they're everything to me

-yeah they were apart for half the season but. benji crumbs. the egg cradle scene. kenji helping ben after he got hit with the stun gun. basically all they did was act like they knew each other but idc. we are so back.

-the brooklynn reveal was... meh?? it could've been more rewarding if they waited until s2 to reveal she's still alive, but at least i hope they take their time before reuniting her with the rest of the camp fam. also i can't believe ppl even guessed what arm she was going to lose y'all have prophetic powers or smth

-bringing daniel back to kill him the same episode was an insane move btw. i would've normally complained but it's all worth it for causing the panic attack scene in ep7. kenji's reaction felt so genuine, i'm forever in awe at how well this show writes grief and trauma

-i'm so conflicted about darius's confession. i like dinostar, but i feel like it wasn't needed for darius to be in love with brooklynn to explain the voicemails and the way he was dealing with her death. she was one of his closest friends, his grief made sense even with them being platonic. on the other hand, i love how he admitted it to kenji and the fact they didn't turn it into a huge fight between them; also, "i didn't know i could even feel that way" aroace/acespec darius truthers never lose

-maybe it's just that i need to rewatch, but i'm lost as to where they're going next season?? i know they're getting on a boat but where does that go?? what are they trying to do?? there's so much happening my head is spinning

-ben... he kind of felt like the comic relief for most of the show, the first episodes showed him as being really paranoid again and struggling with being alone, but halfway through the season they just sort of forgot about it?? idk something was off

-bring back kenji's old latin spanish va idk who this guy is but that is not kenji i can't do this. i'll survive the loss of ryan potter but i won't survive this

anyways yeah i think those are most of my uncooked thoughts, overall i really liked the season, i can't believe we got to see the kids again this is still so unreal to me

[urszn]

GOTCHA ! ⊹ · ˚ 𖥔

PAIRING. idol!yang jungwon and idol!fem reader

WORD COUNT. 0.2k words

GENRE. fluff, short drabble, yeah i don’t know

WARNINGS. cursing (please let me know if there is anything)

YOU SHOULDN’T be out here with him, especially after dispatch announced that you and your boyfriend, Jungwon, were caught on a date earlier that week

but he insisted on taking you to the amusement park that had just opened, sulking when you said it was too risky to go out.

“see nobody has even recognized us!” “yeah well, that's maybe because it's almost one am and there’s nobody out here”

he looks over at you “stop being so grumpy, you’re just mad that i won the dinosaur plushie at that one game!” he says holding up the green t-rex in your face, you scoff

he won at the basketball game after purposely shoving you whenever you tried to shoot the ball at the net “you’re such a cheater yang jungwon! I deserved to win, you kept shoving me so basically I won!”

he shrugs, “right, but I’m still better than you at parkouring on Roblox” he says shoving you lightly as you look up to him pouting “that’s different!” he hums, looking over at the shadow near the bushes

“holy shit” he whispered “holy shit” he whispered again, this time a little louder “what-“ he grabs your hand before speed walking towards the exit

“wait what happened, I swear if you say there’s a paparazzi or fan that took a picture of us-“ you get interrupted mid-sentence by your phone ringing

you look over at jungwon who just looks at you forcing a smile knowing that you guys had just fucked up, “holy shit,” you say

“Y/N COME BACK TO THE DORMS NOW!” was what you heard before your manager hung up the phone, you sighed as jungwon lets out an awkward laugh “she seems happy”

BREAKING: ENHYPEN’s Jungwon and Soloist Y/n are Dating!

holy shit indeed.

note. i’d beat jungwon up, also super sorry for any misspellings or grammar mistakes! anyways hi hope to post an smau update soon

perm taglist ★ @ddenoudepression ⋆ @zuyairus ⋆ @sunoksunny ⋆ @taejays ⋆ @hanniluvi ⋆ @haknom ⋆ @trsrina ⋆ @tyunnie-gyuu ⋆ @ririlovesrenjun ⋆ @xiaoderrrr ⋆ @r-westillfriends ⋆ @placinggum10 ⋆ @gakrufbd ⋆ @nanabbg ⋆ @son4taa ⋆ @redm4ri ⋆ @strwberrydinosaur ⋆ @dreama-little-dreamof-me ⋆ @lcv3lies ⋆ @aspaia ⋆ @schmocolateschmchip ⋆ @seungcheolswife ⋆ @ixomiyu ⋆ @dimplewonie

everyone say thank you @soov for helping with the name of the fic <333 I was struggling

[aquagirl1978]

F R O M A W H I S P E R T O A S C R E A M

william rex x reader | prompt: day 13 - dirty talk | tags: NSFW; minors - dni; dirty talk; fingering; piv; mature language; pet names

“Tell me how this feels…”

Wills drags his hand slowly down your torso, his fingertips just ghosting your skin. Body bared before him, your skin under his touch feels electric. Your back arches, seeking more when he suddenly lifts his hand eliciting an adorable whimper.

“Use your words, my darling robin.”

Your head falls back onto the pillow underneath you; tilting your face you avert your gaze as you speak softly. “I love how your hands feel on me. Don’t stop.”

Will smiles and rewards you with a kiss, his hand continuing on its path down your torso. He watches you, noticing the soft smile that spreads on your lips the closer he gots to your most sensitive spot. 

“Don’t you dare stop now,” you hiss when his hand begins to move slower.

“I have no intention of doing so.” He kisses you again. “But only as long as you keep using your words.”

“Please,” you whisper, your core flooding with heat waiting for his touch.

His fingers glide along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. While his touch feels amazing, it’s not where you want his hands. You glance at him; he’s smiling at you, waiting for your next command.

“Touch me.”

“Touch you where, my beloved?” he asks with a gentle laugh.

You moan in frustration; he’s really making you do this. Your face feels like it is on fire as you try to swallow your nerves.

Closing your eyes, as if that would make it any easier, you let out a shaky breath. “Inside…”

“That wasn’t too hard,” he whispered while rewarding you with another kiss. He slides a finger along your slit, coating it with your slick before sliding it inside. “Do you like that?”

Your head rolled back and you let out a pleasurable sigh. “That feels amazing.” Lifting your hand, you cup his cheek and gaze into his eyes. “But I’d like more.”

“With pleasure, my sweet robin.” His gaze stays fixed on yours as he eases a second finger in. His long fingers curl inside you, searching for your sweet spot, eager to feel your release.

“Yes, right there,” you whisper, guiding him, “faster, don’t stop.”

He does exactly as you ask; capturing your mouth in a deep kiss, he swallows your moans as he pumps his fingers deeper inside you. 

“Will…” you whisper between kisses, “I want more than just your fingers in me.”

“That’s what I thought,” he whispers back, withdrawing his fingers. He rolls his body on top of yours, his hard cock pressing against your core. “It’s what I want, too,” he adds, rubbing the tip of his cock along your entrance.

“Please…” you whimper, desperate for him. He stops and looks at you with a knowing smile. 

“You’re cruel.”

“But you love me,” he teases. 

Dragging your hands down his back, your nails scratch at his skin until your hands settle on his backside. Your fingers dig into his skin as you try to pull him closer to you.

Finally, you relent and give in to him. “I want your cock inside me.” You mouth the words, but he knows exactly what you want.

He pushes inside you with such force that the air is pushed from your lungs. Your eyes widen, your mind going white at the sudden feeling of fullness. Ragged breaths leave your lips as your body adjusts to his size.

Your lips part and a sweet little oh leaves your lips. Will smiles and traces your lips with his fingertip. “That’s a nice sound, but I’m going to need a little more from you.”

Your eyelids flutter, your shyness receding as your arousal increases. Your breath is shaky as you look into his blood-red eyes and find the strength to speak. 

“Fuck me.”

Tagging: @natimiles @valkyyriia @queengiuliettafirstlady @william-rex

@ike-garden2024 @lucyw260

[silver-ace-of-spades]

Silly Mario Incorrect Quotes From The Generator (Oops! All Koopalings (and Jr))

♤◇♧♤

*when a child starts crying in public*

Iggy: *tries to make the child laugh*

Lemmy: *tries to play a game with the child to make them calm down*

Morton: *gives instructions to the parents*

Junior: *cries with the child*

Wendy: *ignores the child*

Ludwig: *is the reason why the child is crying*

●●●

13-year-old Ludwig, when Junior was 4: You say “Please” and “Thank you” in front of Junior all the time, and he never repeats it.

Ludwig: But you call Roy “Ass-faced motherfucker” ONE TIME…

●●●

Larry: But what about Junior?

Ludwig: Don't worry about him.

Ludwig: I once watched him fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating his hotdog like nothing happened.

●●●

Wendy: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

●●●

Iggy: *nudges Ludwig at 3am* Pretty fucked up that we depict the moon as a girl and the sun as a boy. They're just floating rocks in space. Ludwig? Wake up, Ludwig! Listen! They're sexless!

Ludwig: The sun isn't a rock, go back to sleep.

●●●

Roy: Today, Junior said a swear word, so Ludwig said that he was going to wash Junior's mouth out with soap. Junior replied, “It’s okay, I like the taste of soap”. Turns out, he's been putting soap on his lips to blow bubbles.

●●●

Lemmy: Help! I’m drowning!

Roy: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water!

Lemmy: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

●●●

Iggy: The greatest trick the devil ever played was getting me banned from an all you can eat pizza buffet.

Ludwig: Why’d you get banned?

Iggy: Touched the rat.

Ludwig: … What rat?

Iggy: Chunky Cheese.

●●●

Junior, jumping out of Ludwig's closet: BOO!

Ludwig:

Junior:

Ludwig:

Junior: *makes a sad face*

Ludwig: Ahh! Oh my god! You scared me!

●●●

Larry: I need a long word.

Morton: T-rex but the long one.

●●●

Larry: Wendy, I’m afraid.

Wendy: Just stay close to Iggy.

Larry: That's why I’m afraid.

●●●

Iggy: Yo dumbass, get over here.

Lemmy: Okay-

Morton: *gleefully runs past* I’m coming!

Lemmy, sadly: I thought... I was dumbass...

●●●

Larry: Iggy isn’t answering my messages.

Lemmy: Allow me.

Larry: I tried 6 times, what makes you thi-

Iggy: *replying to message* Hello.

●●●

Roy: Advice of the day kids, if you ever meet someone who calls Gatorade flavors the actual name of the flavor instead of just the color then they are a certified nerd.

Ludwig: Yeah but you have to specify, frost glacier or cool blue? You can’t just say blue because there’s more than one blue.

Roy: Blue and light blue, nice try nerd.

●●●

Iggy: What are your adjectives?

Wendy: …You mean my pronouns?

Iggy: No, I know what your pronouns are! What are your adjectives?

Wendy: …I dunno. What are yours?

Iggy: Noisy and chaotic!

Wendy: I’ve never had something go from making no sense to making complete sense so quickly.

●●●

Morton: Baby vibes... hold gentle... like hamburger.

Roy: Punt like football.

●●●

Iggy: Two truths and a lie, I’ll start!

Iggy: I’ve killed a man, I will kill again, and it burns when I pee.

Ludwig, visibly nervous: I don’t- I don’t like this game.

●●●

Wendy: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

Ludwig: Fucking Lemmy and Iggy were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

●●●

Roy or Wendy: I will be using so much pink you’ll be seeing green by the end from sensory deprivation.

●●●

Wendy: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?

Larry: No.

Ludwig: No.

Wendy: Didn't think so.

●●●

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

Iggy, with Morton and Lemmy behind him: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

Iggy: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

Iggy: Junior FUCKING FELL OFF!

●●●

Junior, holding out a cookie for Ludwig: Look! This ones a heart, that’s how I feel about you!

Ludwig: *Ugly crying*

Junior, holding out another cookie for Lemmy: This ones like Michigan, that’s how I feel about you!

Lemmy, throwing his hands in the air: What does that mean?!

●●●

Ludwig: So, Lemmy is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.

Roy: Why?

Ludwig: Because I've caught him trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.

Lemmy, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.

●●●

Roy: Wait, if baby oil dissolves condoms, what does it do to babies?

Iggy: Believe it or not, babies and condoms are made of different materials.

Lemmy: It’s like rock paper scissors. Baby oil defeats condom, baby defeats baby oil, condom defeats baby.

Larry: Rock also defeats baby.

●●●

Junior: I'm very scary.

Roy: You're about as scary as a wet kitten.

Junior: Wet kittens are cute, at least I've got that going for me.

Roy: And small.

Junior:

Junior: ...Yeah, yeah. I guess.

●●●

Ludwig, to the rest of the Koopalings: None of you know what propaganda is, do you?

Roy: I think it’s when a British person takes a good look at something.

●●●

Junior: The saying “it is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission” no longer applies to Roy.

●●●

Wendy: My diamond earring came off in the ocean and it's gone!

Junior: Wendy, there's people that are dying.

●●●

Morton: When I get Doordash I order 20 Cheeseburgers at a time and heat them up throughout the week so that I don’t have to pay the delivery fee multiple times.

Wendy: I hope you understand how food poisoning works.

Morton: I hope food poisoning understands how I work. I never met a burger I couldn’t eat.

●●●

Iggy, having recently lost his glasses: KILL THE BUG!!!

Larry: ....That’s a gecko—

●●●

Ludwig: I think you're still suffering the effects of your party last night.

Roy: All I drank was Redbull!

Ludwig: How many?

Roy: Eighteen.

●●●

Lemmy: honk.

Ludwig: WHAT.

Lemmy: HONK.

Ludwig: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT?????

●●●

Morton: *coughs blood*

Iggy: Don't die, Morton!

Morton: Don't tell me what to do!

●●●

Lemmy, skipping rocks on a lake with Iggy: It’s such a beautiful evening.

Iggy: Yeah, it is.

Iggy: *whispering* Take that you fucking lake.

●●●

Ludwig: You shouldn't be using a straw.

Roy: I know, I know, it's bad for the environment and stuff.

Ludwig: Yeah, but I mean... it's a weird way to eat spaghetti.

●●●

Ludwig: Junior, please calm down.

Junior: I asked for two large fries!

Junior: *dumps fries onto table*

Junior: But all they did was give me a MILLION FREAKING LITTLE ONES!

●●●

Junior: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.

Wendy, used to Junior being dumb: Sure...

Junior: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.

Wendy: Okay?

Junior: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.

Wendy:

Junior: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-

Wendy: Jesus, that one is a little-

Morton, interested: No, no, Junior, keep going.

●●●

Roy: Coca Cola is a health potion, Pepsi is a mana potion.

Larry: What’s grape soda?

Roy: It’s fucking purple baby!!!

●●●

Ludwig: What’s your favorite color?

Roy: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature.

Ludwig: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP?

Roy: My favorite color is pink.

●●●

Morton: *makes Junior a cup of tea but accidentally puts salt in it*

Junior: *sips tea*

Morton:

Junior: *finishes tea*

Morton: Didn't it taste bad?

Junior: Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all.

Morton, tearing up: Oh, okay.

●●●

Roy: I can't believe you've done this.....

Larry: I'm sorry I didn't know-!

Roy, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HUGE ASSHOLE!

●●●

Ludwig: This is a bad idea.

Lemmy: Then why are you coming along?

Ludwig: Someone has to get your injured ass home.

●●●

Roy, in a horrible German accent: Bill Nye is on break, I'm Bill Nein.

Lemmy: Can I go to the bathroom?

Roy, in the same horrible German accent: Nein!

●●●

Wendy: *Turns on the kitchen light*

Iggy: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

Wendy: It’s four in the morning.

Iggy: Turn the light back off.

●●●

Iggy: So Junior, how did your first time cooking dinner go?

Junior: Pretty good if I do say so myself.

Iggy: Ooh! Okay, what are we having?

Junior: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.

Iggy: A whole potato?

Junior: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!

Iggy: These just look like big slabs of black.

Junior: Because that's what they are!

Junior: And then for desert, we have chocolate.

Iggy: These are just chocolate chips?

Junior: They sure are!

Junior: And then for drinks, we have toast!

Junior: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetit!

●●●

Larry: *holding a salt packet* It’s just a little sodium chloride.

Ludwig: Actually Larry, it’s salt.

Larry: That’s what I said, sodium chloride.

Ludwig: Uh Larry, that would be salt.

Ludwig: *takes salt packer from Larry* This is iodized table salt, which in addition to sodium chloride contains anti-caking agents and potassium iodate, which is added to prevent iodine deficiency. So not only are you being overly pretentious by insisting on using scientific terminology for everyday items, you are factually wrong. Your arrogance is your downfall, you annoying little shit.

●●●

Lemmy: I'm having problems with a guy...

Wendy: Like his dead body won't fit into your trunk kind of problems, or you like him kind of problems?

●●●

Ludwig: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

●●●

Junior: What the frick.

Junior: ESPN is showing 2003 national jump rope championship.

Junior: Who the heck watches jump rope competiti- ooh bouncy.

●●●

Lemmy: Iggy just insisted Morton and I remember a code word in case we’re ever confronted by his clone or a cyborg doppelgänger and we’re not sure which is the real him and which is the imposter.

Lemmy: Some families have a fire escape plan, but not us.

●●●

Wendy: I’m not like other girls. I’m way, way worse.

●●●

Iggy, watching a TV show about Luigi: I think I should be allowed on ghost hunter tv shows.

Larry: I think that would be dangerous for the ghosts.

●●●

Roy: Can I borrow five dollars?

Ludwig: If you’re only borrowing it, does that mean you’ll pay me back?

Roy: Of course.

Roy: Not directly, but with my love and affection.

Ludwig: So that’s a no.

●●●

Junior: BWWAAAAAAAAAA! Oh, you hear that? That's the wrong opinion alarm.

Ludwig: That is not something you actually have installed.

Junior: Sorry, say again? I couldn't hear you over my alarm that YOU SET OFF with your WRONG-ASS OPINION.

●●●

Wendy: What did you two do?

Iggy:

Lemmy:

Wendy: You’re not in trouble, I just need to know if I have to lie to the police again or not.

●●●

Ludwig: "Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge" - Charles Darwin

Larry: What the fuck? Begets isn't a word. Quit trying to make up words, fuckface.

●●●

Wendy: What's worse than a heartbreak?

Larry : Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging.

Morton: Waking up in the morning.

Roy: Waking up.

Ludwig: Waking up in the morning...

Ludwig: And seeing Iggy.

Iggy: Hey! Rude!!

●●●

Ludwig: What do you all intend on majoring in?

Morton: Respecting women.

Larry: Minecraft.

Wendy: Criminal justice and psychology.

Iggy: I'm terrified that I’ll lock myself into an interest that I’ll no longer be passionate about in a few years like all the other areas of study I’ve pursued over my life!

Lemmy: Minecraft as well.

●●●

Lemmy: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve!

●●●

Junior, to Bowser: Ludwig called me the b-word!

Ludwig: "Motherfucker" doesn't begin with b.

●●●

Junior: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

Roy: Those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before.

Junior:

Junior: *sobs*

Morton: You fucking scared him, you idiot.

●●●

Ludwig: Have I ever told you that you cook well?

Junior: Awww, no, you haven't!

Ludwig: So why do you keep cooking?

●●●

Roy: We all have our demons.

Iggy, grabbing Lemmy: This one’s mine!

●●●

Wendy: *sighs*

Morton: You bored?

Wendy: Yeah.

Morton: Wanna start drama for no reason?

Wendy: I thought you’d never ask.

●●●

Ludwig: If you ever feel stupid or weak or powerless, just remember that I am not. I am out there, very dangerous, and I am looking for you. Good luck.

●●●

Junior: When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was “woah… it’s canon” and I think that maybe thoughts like that is why Dad made me get tested.

●●●

Ludwig: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

●●●

Ludwig: “Ladies and gentlemen” is unnecessarily gendered, overly formal, lengthy, and honestly, I’m falling asleep already. “Cowards” on the other hand, is inclusive to all genders, to the point, and dramatic.

●●●

Iggy: It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating.

●●●

Iggy: I’d kill someone if you asked me to.

Lemmy: I’m pretty sure you’d kill someone even if I didn’t ask you to.

●●●

Iggy: "Go hang a salami" backwards is "I'm a lasagna hog".

Ludwig: How did either of those sentences occur naturally for you to discover this?

●●●

Ludwig: Lemmy, if you don't shut up I'm going to throw myself out of the car.

*click*

Ludwig: DID YOU JUST TURN THE FUCKING CHILDRENS' LOCK ON?!

●●●

Roy: *Takes a sip of milk and gags*

Roy: Oh my god, is this expired?

Roy: *Takes another sip of milk*

●●●

Iggy: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.

●●●

Ludwig: Stop thinking whatever you're thinking.

Lemmy: Huh?

Ludwig: You always make that face when you're about to say something stupid just to piss me off. So cut it out-

Lemmy: I love you.

Ludwig:

Lemmy:

Lemmy: Also, cereal qualifies as a soup.

Ludwig: I KNEW IT!!

●●●

Iggy, near tears: Please, Junior, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!

●●●

*Lemmy shoots a gun in the lounge room while Ludwig is chilling*

Ludwig: This is why Dad doesn’t FUCKING love you!

*Lemmy runs off while snickering*

●●●

Roy: Uh, I think I got your lunch. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘I am very proud of you. Love, Dad’*

Ludwig: Oh yeah. I didn’t think this was for me. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘Be good. For the love of God, Please be good.’*

●●●

Roy: Ludwig? I mixed redbull with coffee and now I can see sounds, should I worry?

Ludwig: Roy, I swear to god—

●●●

Wendy: I'm gonna nickname my child "Lil Bitch".

Junior: I see you're passing on your name.

●●●

Ludwig: You’re giving me a sticker?

Iggy: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Ludwig: I’m not a preschooler.

Iggy: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Ludwig: I earned this, back off!

●●●

Ludwig, texting: Answer your phone

Larry, texting back: Wait a minute, I can’t find my phone

Ludwig: Understood

Ludwig, 5 minutes later: You’re a terrible person. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing me, Larry.

●●●

*The Koopalings are playing Chess*

Ludwig: *easily beats everyone because he knows how to play*

Iggy: *doesn’t know the rules, but wins anyway*

Lemmy: *doesn’t know the rules, and loses*

Wendy: *knows the rules, but still loses to those who don’t*

Roy and Junior: Actually, you can’t do that, because I said so.

Larry and Morton: They named a board game after cheese?

●●●

Iggy: Inside you, there are two kidneys.

Iggy: I’m gonna steal them.

●●●

Ludwig: When I was your age-

Iggy, mocking Ludwig: When I was your height.

Ludwig:

Ludwig: Listen here you little shit-

●●●

Iggy: Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot.

●●●

Lemmy: Everyone thinks I'm this soft cute person but I'm not!

Ludwig: Lemmy, you cried for an hour after stepping on a bug yesterday.

Lemmy: It had feelings! It was probably going home to dinner and I killed it!

Wendy: ...It was a bug.

Lemmy: It was a BEETLE, and its wife is definitely worried sick, wondering where it is, and I really don't get why you all think I'm so sentimental because I'm not!

Ludwig: ...

Wendy: ...

Lemmy: Stop looking at me like that!

●●●

Ludwig: I hate to disagree with you, but-

Larry: Please, you love to disagree with me. Its your favorite thing to do.

●●●

Roy: Are you okay?

Junior, crying: Yeah, it was just the onions.

Roy: *Picks up an onion* What the fuck did you say to Junior?

●●●

Morton (5 years in the future): What are you drinking?

Iggy (now 19): Vodka.

Morton: Straight?

Iggy: No, gay. Why?

●●●

Roy: Valentines Day? I'm ready. *Sprays an entire can of AXE body spray on himself*

●●●

Wendy: You read my diary?

Iggy: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

●●●

Lemmy: I told Junior to grab snacks for everyone.

Ludwig, looking through the options: Why did you grab fruit snacks? Are you five? Who even likes Fruit Snacks?

*Lemmy, Junior, and Larry raise their hands*

●●●

Iggy: Today at 7 am, Roy poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Larry: I watched Roy brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm.

Ludwig: The survivability of Koopas never fails to amaze me.

●●●

Wendy: Hi, could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire??

Iggy: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

Junior: Why were you microwaving a lemon???

Iggy: I read boiling lemons helps cover up up bad smells (I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges) but I didn't own any pots.

Larry: Did you burn an orange too? How???

●●●

Iggy: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

●●●

Roy, some time after turning 18: I am a responsible adult!

Larry, now a teenager: *raises brow*

Roy: I am an adult.

Junior: Hey, you wanna know a secret?

Wendy: No.

Junior: Okay.

Wendy:

Wendy: Do you smell smoke?

Junior: The secret is that the house is on fire.

●●●

Roy: Damn, the power went out.

Junior: Don’t worry, I got this.

Junior: *stomps foot*

Roy: What-?

Junior: *Sketchers light up*

●●●

Ludwig: *bites lip* Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?

Cop: That isn’t gonna work, hands behind your back.

●●●

Iggy: *chokes on something*

Morton: Jeez, Iggy, don't die on us.

Iggy: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want!

●●●

Larry: Good. Thanks, dad.

Junior: You just called Ludwig “dad”. You just said “thanks, dad.”

Larry: What? No, I didn’t. I said “thanks, man”.

Ludwig: Do you see me as a father figure, Larry?

Larry: No. If anything I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me.

Wendy: Hey! Show your father some respect!

●●●

Larry: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths.

Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

●●●

Roy: Guess what number I’m thinking of.

Ludwig: 420?

Roy: No, that’s really immature of you. Someone else guess, and please take this seriously.

Lemmy: 69.

Roy: Yeah it was 69.

●●●

Wendy: What kinds of sounds annoy you?

Iggy: Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones?

Wendy, now interested: Lets say imaginary.

Iggy: Spiders wearing flip flops.

●●●

*The Koopalings are at Home Depot*

Junior: *Fell in the cacti display while wandering around the garden section*

Iggy: *Shitting in the display toilets*

Morton and Larry: *Tokyo Drifting one of those flatbed carts down the aisles*

Wendy: *Stealing paint chips for aesthetic purposes*

Ludwig: *Just wanted some goddamn lightbulbs and everyone ruined it*

Roy and Lemmy: *In the car sleeping*

●●●

Ludwig, at Bowser's wedding: What the hell were you thinking?

Lemmy: I heard releasing birds at a wedding is romantic!

Ludwig: You released OSTRICHES!

●●●

*at a zoo*

Junior: What are they in for?

Wendy: Junior, this isn't prison.

Junior: So they can leave?

Wendy: No, but-

Junior, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

●●●

Lemmy: iuegrukfhoeuhfeoruhf

Ludwig: What is that?

Lemmy: it’s a keyboard smash

Ludwig: How do I do it?

Lemmy: just press anything

Ludwig: 7

●●●

Junior: Get your hand off my shield!

Wendy: There's like a million other shields.

Junior: Take that one, it has a flower on it. Girls like flowers.

Wendy: *hits Junior with the shield* Oops! Now this one has blood on it.

●●●

Roy: How would you like your coffee?

Junior: As dark as my soul.

Roy: Got it, one cup of milk coming right up!

●●●

Roy: *casually taking four stairs at a time*

Junior, falling behind, taking two stairs at a time: Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fu-

●●●

Wendy: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Junior: Put spaghetti in it.

Wendy: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Larry: Put spaghetti in it.

Wendy: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Roy: Put spaghetti in it.

Wendy: I am no longer taking suggestions.

[ismellpestilence]

My Puppet History 6 speculations are:

The Substitute is still alive (never saw the body + whatever the fuck happened in the Max Headroom episode)

I literally just remembered the Professor's parents are there now. And the T-Rex might be trying to fuck Ryan. So there's that.

What's the deal with the Genie? Is he cool now? He remind me of Beetlejuice, so maybe he'll be like that. Is that his deal???

What about the puppets in the Wondrium Arena?

Is God still asleep? And what about the Devil?

There's no way they can go back the way it was in season 1. There's too much lore and canon now.

Is the Professor's name actually Concupiscence? They can't just say that and then not elaborate.

Actually they could, but I need answers.

I cannot fathom the idea that this show will end so either they need to come up with a new arc or somehow keep this going.

[tobiasdrake]

It's still amazing to me that Dominion finally noticed that they forgot about Dodgson twenty years ago.

Nedry: DODGSON!!! WE GOT DODGSON HERE!!! See? Nobody cares.

And for twenty years, nobody did. He fucked right off out of the franchise after the first movie.

Dodgson was the guy paying off Nedry to steal dinosaur embryos. That was their whole scheme. Nedry was just supposed to grab up some embryos in the Barbasol can, get them to Dodgson's guy at the dock, and then get back and keep going like nothing happened.

Just a little bit of corporate espionage between rivals so that Biosyn could get in on the dino-engineering game.

Crichton then brought him back as an antagonist for The Lost World. Still trying to get his hands on something he can reverse-engineer, Dodgson makes an expedition to Isla Sorna in person so he can steal T-Rex eggs.

This is how the baby T-Rex and parent Rexes were originally involved in the story. The film of The Lost World takes even more tremendous departures from the novel than Jurassic Park did.

Dodgson is a shameless patent thief. That's his entire deal. He has a philosophy for how he conducts his business that he explains as:

"I have my I own version of the scientific method. I call it focused research development. If only a few ideas are going to be good, why try to find them yourself? It's too hard. Let other people find them - let them take the risk - let them go for the so-called glory. I'd rather wait, and develop ideas that already show promise. Take what's good, and make it better. Or at least, make it different enough so that I can patent it. And then I own it. Then, it's mine."

He just finds things that work and takes them for his own, so he can put his name on them and sell them. A capitalist in the truest sense. Elon Musk would be proud.

In Dominion he's, hahahahahaha, he's trying to destroy the world economy with an army of super-locusts so he can monopolize grain production. Hahahahahahahaha. They made him Jurassic Lex Luthor to justify the Paleo-Avengers coming together to save the world. Completely out of ideas.

Whereas in Lost World, he's just. He's trying again. He goes to Isla Sorna to steal dinosaur eggs, filling the role that the movie uses Hammond's nephew and the InGen site in California for. Dodgson and his men are the ones causing problems on Isla Sorna, up until Sarah Harding fucking murders him by feeding him to a motherfucking T-Rex on purpose. Because she is a badass. Do not fuck with Sarah Harding.

[octopiys]

Omg imagine:

Price: Soap, tie your shoes please you'll fall

Soap: No! I'm a big boy I can do what I want. *proceeds to fall stright on his face on his first step*

It's not as funny as it was in my head but still🤭

~🐸

RAHHHH NEW ANON🐸‼️‼️‼️

Some more incorrect quotes (I'm bored at work)

-

Ghost: I feel like I can be myself around you.

Soap: You’re weird and quiet around me.

Ghost: Yes.

-

Gaz: Isn’t it a bit dangerous?

Soap: Gaz, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.

Gaz: ...

Soap: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.

Gaz: ...

Soap: Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves on the way home.

Alejandro: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.

Graves, coming into a meeting looking disheveled and 10 minutes late: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!

-

Price: If I run and leap at Nikolai, he will most certainly catch me in his arms.

Price, running towards Nikolai: Coming in!

Nikolai: No! I’m holding coffee!

Nikolai: *Drops coffee and catches Price*

-

Price: Soap, please tie your shoes, you're gonna fall.

Soap: Price, I'm a big boy.

Soap: I can do whatever I want.

Soap: you're not my dad.

Price, unfazed: you done?

Soap: yeah.

Soap, turning away: *trips and falls*

-

Horangi, doing crossword: I need a long word for-

König: t-rex.

Horangi: ....what-

König: t-rex

König: but the long one.

-

Rodolfo: I ran into Alejandro in the kitchen at 1 AM last night and when I asked him what he was doing, he just shrugged, said “these are my roaming hours,” and wandered off

-

Roach: Last week, König tried to flush a live lobster down the toilet "because it worked for Nemo".

Gaz:

Gaz: oh my god.

-

Gaz: Would it be discrimination to only hire employees at my doughnut shop who have the same name?

Ghost: Legally, I don't believe that breaches any discrimination laws. Morally though... I don't know.

Gaz: I believe god is on my side when it comes to Duncans' Doughnuts.

Gaz: or Jimmy/John's.

Soap: hey

Price: hey

-

Ghost: If you kill me, my teeth only have a 2% drop rate.

Graves:

Graves: What?

Ghost: Good luck.

-

Ghost: You’re an idiot.

Soap, grinning: That’s the charm.

-

Soap: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out?

Ghost: ...Have you never taken a shower before?

(Later)

Ghost: fuckin' hell, wait a minute-

-

Uh because I've seen it a lot recently here is your reminder that Gaz erasure is NOT welcome on this blog. I love him sm. Gaz appreciation :D