#jeff goldblum fanfic
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Let Me Make You Juno (Ian Malcolm Smut)
Summary: When Ian returns from Jurassic Park, he has a new perspective on some decisions he’s been contemplating. Like the need to lock down the love of his life. (Inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s song Juno)
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY!!! Breeding kink, Ian being the silver tongued devil he is😏, cursing
Notes: Yes, I’m aware that the movie Juno came out several years after the original Jurassic Park BUT this is inspired by a song that was inspired by a movie (most likely I’m just assuming).
//
She was there the moment the helicopter touched down.
She was there as they gurnied him into the hospital to be treated.
She was there to take care of him every step of the way.
From his Costa Rican hospital bed, Ian would watch her sleeping form slumped in a chair in the corner. He observed her as he was lost in his thoughts. Almost dying had a way of making you reassess your life and decisions you’ve been dancing around. Like the one sitting in a velvet box back at his apartment.
Ian bought the ring before he’d made up his mind. There was a lot he was considering before asking her to marry him. He often joked he was always on the look out for the “future ex-Mrs. Malcolm”, but he was hesitant to add her to that list. She had changed his life. She had encouraged him to start carving out more time for his children, albeit a slow process since he had to become civil with their mothers. No one had pushed him to better himself quite like her.
Staring death in the face with all its sharp and bloody teeth was when he made his decision. Ian prayed (for the first time in who knows how long) he’d make it off that island so he could finally ask her that all important question. She WAS the future and last Mrs. Malcolm. No matter what, he’d be with her until his heart stopped beating.
//
“What?”
Ian smiled at her shocked expression, “Will you marry me, my wonderful and beautiful goddess?”
Her eyes stared at the ring in the box he held out to her. The diamond shined in the candlelight of their romantic dinner. “You’re…are you serious?” her heartbeat a million miles a minute.
“Of course I am, my darling. You’ve changed my life in such an…exponential way. You’ve made me uh…a better man, a better father to not just my current kids but for our future kids,” Ian pulled the ring from the box and held it between his fingers, “So…what do ya say?”
“You want…with me? Yes, Ian! Yes!” happy tears fogged her eyes as she grasped his face between her hands and kissed him.
Ian almost dropped the ring as he wrapped his arms around her, her tears wetting his cheeks. The restaurant goers that had been watching erupted in joyous clapping. She pulled away from their kiss and held out her left hand. Ian gently took her hand in his, carefully slipping the ring onto her finger. Their joy was infectious. He knew in his heart this was meant to be, he’d made the right decision.
//
Light flooded their apartment as the door swung open. Ian’s large hands held her close to his body tightly, clutching her silk dress and walking her backwards. Her fingers were woven into his curls as their tongues fought with one another. A swift kick shut the apartment door before he released her body to shrug off his leather jacket. Gently clutching her wrists, he pulled them from his hair as he delicately pushed the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders. Her hands worked on unbuttoning his already halfway unbuttoned black shirt.
The silk pooled at her feet as it finally cascaded down her body leaving her in her panties and heels. Ian was in awe of her, a lustful look in his eyes as he threw off his shirt to swagger towards his prey. The moonlight shining in from the windows made her look ethereal.
“You are a goddess,” his eyes slowly took her in, “And I must…no, need to worship at your alter.”
“Ian,” she whispered, her face flushed.
The man stopped before her and fell to his knees, large hands running up her legs as he kissed the top of her panty line. Her body shivered as his lips ran across the sensitive skin. Her fingers threaded into his hair once more as he squeezed her thighs, dark eyes staring up into hers.
“I want your touch for life, darling. Love you right until you bless me even more with something beautiful. I want to put my child right…here,” he kissed her stomach gently.
Ian’s eyes watched her breasts heave as she began to pant, “I’m so fucking horny, Ian.”
“I know,” dexterous fingers wrapped around her waist band, pulling her panties down her legs.
He aided her in stepping out of the garment before he stood up, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. They smashed their lips together as he carried her to the bedroom in long strides. He moaned into her mouth as she ran her nails across his shoulder blades. They fell on to the bed, Ian being careful not to land on her too hard. An animalistic groan vibrated in his chest as he felt her hips roll against his.
Her needy whimper made him feral. His lips trailed down to her jaw line and neck, exploring her body with the drag of his lips and scrape of his teeth. He sucked on the swell of each of her breasts before running his tongue down her stomach. Ian could only imagine what she’d look like once their child grew inside her. Growling at the thought of her round belly and swollen breasts made his stomach twist in anticipation to make her his in every way possible. Ian suddenly sat up to gently remove her heels.
“I adore you, Mrs. Malcolm,” he kissed her left calf before reaching down to strum his thumb over her clit, “I adore every part of you…, Mrs. Malcolm.”
The way the title rolled off his tongue and his fingers slipped inside to begin massaging her sweet spot caused her to arch her back. When she reached out to him with a desperate whine, Ian leaned over her to look deep into her eyes. His hand moved faster when she reached up and bit his lip, eliciting a growl from deep within his chest. Her body writhed desperately, toes curling as she felt electricity began to burn from the bottoms of her feet to behind her eyes. “Please, Ian!” the way she begged may have been pathetic, but she didn’t care, “I want you inside me! Put a baby in me!”
Ian’s chuckle was dark, “I will, darling, but uh…you have to cum first.”
The fire in her belly burned even hotter when she heard his words. He had such a way of speaking, it flowed from his lips like honey and heightened the pleasure. The hot coil snapped and she came on his frantically moving hand. Ian showered the side of her face and neck with loving kisses as he helped her ride out her orgasm. Her arms lazily wrapped around his neck to press their lips together in a sloppy kiss. Removing his fingers, Ian pulled away from the kiss to suck his fingers, “Mm. Your taste is divine. I could explore you all night.”
“That won’t make a baby, my love” she smirked as he began to pull at his belt.
He chuckled and stuttered over his words at how quick she with his belt and pants, “You…uh…Darling, you’re…uh, uh…insatiable.”
“You bring it out in me, Dr. Malcolm,” small hands pushed down his slacks.
The curly haired man stood up off the bed and chucked off his slacks and boxers. Crawling on to the bed, he watched with predatory eyes as she moved up to lay at the head of the bed. They wrapped up into each other’s arms and legs. His large hands roamed her body as he thrust his hips against hers, teasing them both. A hand slipped behind her onto her lower back. He made her arch her back and angle her hips up. There was no warning when he slipped his long dick inside her. Her moans were music to his ears as she dug her nails into his back. “Oh my god,” Ian groaned as he picked up his pace, “Fuck this feels so right!”
Up until that point, they had always used condoms. The feeling of him being inside of her with no barrier, just raw, brought out something feral in her. There’s no way she could go back to rubbers after this. Her legs tightly wrapped around his waist, urging him to keep going with her heels against his ass. His arm wrapped around her hips helped him continuously spear her over and over again, free hand gripping the sheets next to her head. He suddenly switched their position, pulling out to flip her onto her stomach with her hips angled up.
Ian was back inside her once again as he pressed his chest to her back; his hands traveling up her sides before one tangled into her hair and the other slipped under her hips to her clit. His thrusts were deep and deliberate. Holding her head back enough for him to leave open mouth kisses along the side of her face and neck, whispering in her ear. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she desperately tried to move her hips to meet his thrusts.
“I feel you clenching around me, my love. I can hardly pull out. Not that I’m going to,” his smirk was pressed to her ear.
A desperate sound slipped from her throat as she felt pleasure building from the bottoms of her feet to behind her eyes.
“One of you is cute…it’s wonderful, infact, but two?” Ian growled and thrust roughly and bit her earlobe.
“Fuck, baby! Mark your territory!” she pushed her hips toward him more, if it was possible.
His fingers circling her clit and his animalistic pounding was enough for the coil to snap. She screamed as she clenched down on his thrusting cock and came. Her orgasm washed over her like a brutal wave and only lasted longer as her fiancé continued to fuck her into their mattress. Just as the high from her first orgasm subsided another quickly built and crashed over her. Ian admired the way her body writhed underneath him, unable to decide if she wanted more or less of his ministrations.
“D-don’t stop! Don’t stop! Cum inside me, baby!” she begged in her delirious state.
Ian’s brow creased in concentration and he bit down on his lip as his hips began to falter. The most wonderful cry left her lips as he thrust himself as deep as he could inside her to spill his seed. The feeling of him filling her to the brim would be burned into her body’s memory forever. A hand reached behind her and tangled into his hair, whimpering as she felt him rutting his hips into hers until he was fully spent. The only thing heard in the room was their ragged breaths.
He kissed along the side of her face and neck down to her shoulders, all the while whispering to her how good and beautiful she is. She whimpered as he slowly pulled out, feeling both their orgasms leak out of her. Ian laid on his side beside her before pulling her towards him. She gently turned over to face him and snuggled into his embrace. “You ok?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.
“I’m perfect,” she lovingly kissed his neck, “Planning a wedding and a baby? You’re truly a chaos magnet, Dr. Malcolm.”
“Chaos is unpredictable, my love. It might take one, two, or multiple tries to get you pregnant. Either way, I’m-uh more than happy to keep trying,” he smirked down at her.
Her felt her stomach jump in anticipation, and she gave a playful nip to his jaw line, “Then I guess we have a lot of work to do.”
#jeff goldblum#jeff goldblum smut#smut#fanfiction#jurassic park#jurassic park fanfic#jeff goldblum fanfic#explict#jurassic world#jeff goldblum imagine#ian malcolm#ian malcolm smut#ian malcolm fanfic#ian malcolm imagine#imagine#Spotify
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @illiana-mystery (thank u for the idea!), @eclecticwildflowers
warnings: mention of menstruation, swearing
Ian and I walked into the convention center arm in arm. I was looking at the itinerary for the lectures while Ian looked over where everything was.
“thank god it’s only one day we have to be here.” Ian pointed out when I showed him that he would have to attend at least four lectures before his lecture even took place. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand before taking off his sunglasses. “Next time I’m just going to agree to my own lecture and we can sneak away before we get roped into anything else.” Ian pulled me close and playfully bit my ear.
”Ian.” I laughed. “For fucks sake! We’re in public.” Ian pulled away and pulled me into a searing kiss.
“screw public.�� He teased. “Anyway what are these lectures on anyway?” His head fell against mine as he looked over the paper in my hands.
“Well there is one lecture you won’t get out of.” I pointed out. Ian frowned as I pointed it out. “Led by one Dr. Ellie satler?” Ian sighed and nodded.
“right. The one I agreed to come to months ago and have always found an excuse to miss.” He pouted. “She finally managed to tie me down.” I playfully shoved him.
“shut up Ian. It won’t have anything to do with jurassic park as far as I know. Just something to do with her research on…something.” I laughed. I felt Ian lean some of his weight against me as he sagged in relief. “Now come on. Someone is giving a lecture on chaos theory and you need to be there for that.” I pulled him in the direction of the auditorium and grabbed some seats as far back as we dared.
Ian sat with his hand on my thigh, fingers playing with the hem of my pants. I had to grab his hand a few times to stop him from inching closer to my crotch. I shifted uncomfortably a few times and Ian looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I waved him off each time and breathed a sigh of relief as I stood up at the end of the lecture.
“god that was long.” I said as I stretched.
“uh (Y/N)?” Ian said softly. I looked over my shoulder at him. Ian’s gaze was fixed on my ass and I almost smacked him until I turned fully to look. “Do you have a change of clothes?” His eyes jumped up to mine and I shook my head.
“I mean technically. But all I packed this weekend was light clothes.” I said, surprised by how calm I was with this. “Figured with the amount of people, and the natural light in this place, it’d be cooler.” Ian nodded.
“I have a change of clothes in the car. It’ll be big on you but it’s black and no matter what happens at least it will cover it up.” Ian stood up and wrapped his jacket around my waist, making it look like he was hugging me from behind so no one else noticed I had bled through the back of my pants. “I’ve got some pads packed too.” I nodded as I leaned back against him.
“you always think ahead.” I murmured as we followed the crowd that was exiting the auditorium. “Why do you have pads in your car?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at him again.
“in case of times like this.” He whispered before kissing my cheek. “Wait here. I’ll run out and grab it.” Ian left me by the bathroom and ran out to the car. He came back with a bag and ushered me into the bathroom. When I came back, I handed him the bag back. “Better?” I nodded. “Ok. Go to the next lecture and I’ll run these to the hotel to soak so they don’t stain.” I nodded and pulled Ian into a kiss. “What was that for?” He asked, eyeing me slightly as I pushed him away.
“for being the best partner ever.” I said with a smile. Ian smiled back and walked backwards out of the convention hall while I watched. Once he was gone, I headed to the next lecture to wait for him to come back.
#Ian malcolm#ian Malcolm x reader#ian malcolm fanfic#Ian Malcolm fanfiction#Ian Malcolm imagine#jeff goldblum#jeff goldblum x reader#Jeff goldblum imagine#Jeff goldblum fanfic#Jeff goldblum fanfiction#Monthly series
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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl)
Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader
Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)
Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship
Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.
Word Count: 2,185
Chapter 2
AO3 Link
The chill fights to work its way through me as I dress quickly. Mint blouse, forest green skirt, and olive apron are donned and tightened before the chill can catch me. I curse Esmet, the head butler for not having gotten the heating fixed by now, the cold of the winter month creeping in and savaging the servants' quarters of the Royal Palace like a fatal disease. I'd be happy as soon as I got into the Wizard's quarters, busying about with the other green bees in keeping the apartments in tip shape. There were several old hearths that had remained there through renovations that could have roaring and crackling fires set to them if needed. Until recently, they had been used solely for decorations.
I strip off the socks that I wore to bed and replace them with a new clean pair that was thick and wooly, and of course dyed green. Emily is still sleeping under the thick duvet when I shake her awake.
"Up, up, sleepy head," I say.
Emily grumbles and pulls the duvet around her tighter now that I'm not under it. She had her own bed, but the staff had taken to sharing beds to provide enough comfort to fall asleep as the sun sank the temperature in the palace with it. I can't blame her for wanting to keep warm, but it was better to rip the bandage off and go start the fire than to wallow in the misery. I cross the shared bedroom to her small little cube of a nightstand and pull her uniform out, throwing it on her sleep-wrinkled face. She flinches, but I'm already lacing up my boots.
"You're going to miss breakfast like yesterday if you don't get up and do your chores," I say. That causes her to wake up. All staff were required to complete their basic morning chores if they wanted to be fed. Emily had overslept yesterday and hadn't seen food until lunch.
I leave Emily to it, not wanting to miss out on my own breakfast. Quickly, I take the old wooden stairs up the servants' way to the Wizard's apartments. They hadn't seen fit to replace those with green marble yet, so they remained creaking from their decades of use. Esmet had already set the first fire in the hearth nearby the door, and for that I hate him a little less. I grab mint sheets from a linen closet and head to the main bedroom.
The Wizard had already risen. This was a little-known fact, one that we in his service had been sworn to secrecy. Nobody was supposed to know that the Great Oracle has needs like any other ordinary man, but looking past the need for sheets and warm baths drawn, he is still as wonderful as the day he came to Oz. Esmet had explained it to me when I was finally trusted to be put into his personal service. It was a privilege to serve him in such close proximity, that those who were unworthy became sick from the good that seeped from him and infected everything that he touched. It was also for his protection that most did not know who he truly was.
I lower my eyes when I knock before entering his room. In the first few weeks in his service, I had been terrified that I would catch some hideous illness that would make me break out in a pox exposing my badness to the world, but it never came. Still, I did not chance it, trying to make sure that I never caught sight of him in case the effects took direct contact to show up.
His room smells sweet with incense and a hint of tobacco. I look up briefly before raising my eyes, making sure the coast is clear. Satisfied that he is not present, I set the clean sheets on the emerald velvet bench at the end of the bed and work at stripping yesterday's sheets off of it. They're much softer than ours, the cotton only the highest quality that can be imported from Munchkinland. I think about the rough sheets that I had left Emily sleeping in back in our cold room.
The door creaks open and I hear her voice. "I'm going downstairs for wood," she says. "We're all out up here. Esmet must have used it all."
I go back to stripping the pillowcases, throwing the old linens into a nearby hamper. At least she's up, I think. Once I have the entire bed bare, I turn back to grab the new sheets, only to be met with the sight of him.
Given my fear, I had never actually seen him in person, but I knew what he looked like. His portrait was hung up in various places around the apartment. One painting that I had quite fancied hung in the dining room. In it, he was sat rather crooked in a chair of gold with green upholstery, a man with gray hair coifed in sweeps and a mustache and goatee to match, his hand lazily resting on the head of a tiger that had been posed next to him. I had always admired his bravery, wondering if he was ever for a second scared when posing for the painting. Seeing him now, any bravery that I had immediately fled from me as I cast my eyes back to the floor, giving an apologetic curtsy.
"Your Wonderfulness," I say, moving off towards the laundry basket, out of his way.
"You haven't happened to see my cufflinks?" he asks. I watch as his green wingtips walk into the room right up to the nightstand next to me.
"No, Your Wonderfulness," I say, trying to still the frog that is hopping in my throat. Why is he talking to me!?
"Could you help me look then?" he says. "They're... well they're green with a little..." he searches for the word. "A little gold flower on them."
I immediately go to searching, looking on the dresser. If I were a pair of cufflinks, where would I be? There are so many fine things laid out on his dresser: a golden hairbrush and mirror set, a snuffbox decorated with emerald and gold beetles, a green satin ribbon. No cufflinks.
"I swear I had them this morning," he says. "Should've had him put them on... Any luck over there?"
I turn to face him, eyes still on the floor. "No, Your Wonderfulness," I say.
"Is there something wrong with my face?" he says. It felt like I had swallowed a peach pit of embarrassment, my cheeks pinkening even more than the cold had roughed them up. I can’t find the words to respond to him, biting my tongue in fear that it may also offend him
"Do me a favor and look me in the eye," he says. "It's weird talking to the top of someone's head, no matter how pretty her braids are."
The compliment makes me want to dive into the basket of dirty laundry, never to be seen again, but I raise my eyes to look at him. This is the first day I have ever spoken with him, and somehow in all of his wonderfulness, he finds it fitting to compliment me. He is just like his portraits, but maybe with a few extra wrinkles around the eyes, the pepper that had generously seasoned his hair reduced to a dash. It can't be helped as those paintings must have been several years old. He smiles and again I fight the urge to bury myself in the hamper.
"Such pretty eyes," he says, crossing the room towards me. My heart beats quickly against my breastbone. Somehow this feels wrong, like I'll get in trouble with Esmet if he walks into the room. I remember Emily, who had gone down to get firewood for the hearth in the bedroom and my lips quiver to form words.
"Do you think they might be in the dresser?" I ask. It's sinful, but I don't want her seeing me with the Wizard. She could be a cruel tease when she wanted to be. I had avoided it for the most part, but the poor Munchkin boy that she had bullied when we'd first come to the palace eventually had to be relocated to the kitchen staff with the way he wept at night in the shared bedroom. Who knows what kind of rumors she might spread if she thought I had looked too swooned by him.
"I suppose," he drawls, making a survey of the top of his gilded dresser, humming in thought. His fingers snatch the ribbon between the middle and index and snap it sharply before holding it up to the sunlight. Satisfied with the assessment, he takes it and wraps it around and ties it into a bow amongst the two braids that wrap the crown of my head. "It looks better on you. Got it as a gift from an ambassador and I hadn't a clue what to do with it."
I go to thank him, but he holds a finger up in the air as if remembering something. Pushing his hand into his pocket, he produces two cufflinks: green, just like he said, with little golden flowers on them.
"Would you mind helping me with them?" he asks. I hadn't put on someone's cufflinks since I was 10 – my father's before he had passed away – but I figure that it can't be much different. I remember Emily once more and quickly guide the metal through the starched cotton, trying not to think too much about how I had gone from never seeing the most powerful man in Oz to dressing him in a matter of minutes.
He gives the sleeves a shake, and satisfied with their solidity, squeezes my cheeks with a tsk of the tongue. "There's a good girl," he says.
As quick as he'd entered the room, he left, leaving me with more than a hundred butterflies in my stomach and sweating palms. I head back to the dirty laundry and wipe off my palms on the sheets. There is a rattling of wood on metal and I know that Emily is back with a bucket full of wood. I hurry to the sheets, realizing that they are still not on the bed, just as they had been when Emily had left.
She enters the room as I'm stretching the second corner of the fitted sheet."What a nightmare that was," she says. "Those idiots in receiving hadn't opened up the wood shipment from last night so I had to wait there for them to cut it open. Here's hoping I still get breakfast." She sets the pail down with a clank, quickly chucking rough-hewn blocks of wood and logs onto the metal grate. "What's taking you so long with that bed?"
I sweep over to the other side, my crinoline rustling under my skirt. "There was a hole in the sheet," I lie. She didn't need to know all about how the Wizard had asked me to help him look for his cufflinks and about me helping him to get dressed afterward. I close my eyes as I pull the last corner of the sheet over the mattress and I can still smell the warmth of his cologne from that moment. It reminds me of the rolls that we get for Lurlinemas, with their cloves poking out of the shiny egg-washed crusts.
"I didn't see you with that ribbon earlier this morning," Emily says, pulling a box of matches from the mantle. "It's pretty. Did you get it in town?"
My eyes go wide as I realize that I still have the ribbon fastened around my head. "Oh," I stutter. I wasn't used to making up so many lies this early in the morning. "It's just some old thing I picked up this summer at the markets."
Emily gets a good strike and soon the fire is crackling quickly into a roar. "Well it looks good," she says. "Maybe we could go into town later this week. I need to get some gifts for Lurlinemas."
I was a little surprised that she was considering gifts, considering the price of everything had been crazy lately. Our meals and housing were complimentary with working in the palace, but any kind of extra clothing or goods besides the uniform that was provided at the start of each year was strictly up to each servant. The last time I had been in the markets I'd gawked at the price of 79 pennies for new laces for my boots. I consider objecting to the potential spending spree but hold my tongue. She's been asking too many questions. "Maybe we could go on Saturday?" I say.
Emily agrees to that, and we pass the rest of our day finishing our chores at a leisurely pace to soak up as much warmth as possible, talking of things we want to go do and see in the markets, away from the cold of the palace.
#wicked fanfiction#wicked 2024#The wizard x reader#the wizard fanfiction#wicked 2024 fanfic#jeff goldblum
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Stolen Glances Pt. 1 - Ian Malcolm
@toomanybandstocare - thank you for the wonderful prompt!! Totally taking you up on it [Prompt Here]
Professor!Ian Malcolm x Student of Professor!Fem!Reader
Warnings: None! (Wine?)
Summary: Your father invites his colleague over for dinner and he turns out very different than you expected.
“Dr. Y/L/N!” The man said, walking into the room confidently with a bottle of wine in his hand.
“Professor Malcolm! A grand entrance as always!” You hear your father say from across the hall. You put down your book and walk into the kitchen of your home where your father and- who you were assuming was- Dr. Malcolm pouring wine.
Dr. Malcolm was an interesting man for sure, however his appearance was not what you first noticed. He had a commanding presence, but not threatening. His confidence and charisma radiated off of him. He seemed to know your father well enough to throw out some simple work anecdotes, but nothing of any more substance.
Your father finally noticed your presence in the kitchen and gestured you into the room further.
“My goodness, excuse my manners Ian! This is my daughter, Y/n” Your father says cheerfully. “Y/n, this is Dr. Ian Malcolm, a colleague of mine!”
You reach out and shake his hand firmly and he gives you a small nod. “She happens to be in your particular field of study I believe, Ian!” Your father chimes in.
You turn toward him. “What field of study do you teach, Doctor?”
“I am a man of theoretical mathematics, more specifically… uh.. the amazing possibility of.. um.. chaos theory!” He smiles brightly “Do you happen to be a student of.. uh.. theoretical math Y/n?”
“I’m actually not very familiar with theoretical math, however I am interested in the theories surrounding it. Currently, I’m pursuing the study of general, or to you more practical, mathematics at the university” You reply. “So you study the work of Edward Lorenz?”
He looked stunned for a moment. He had barely known anyone interested in chaos theory in his lifetime, and an undergraduate student was talking about Edward Lorenz, the inventor of the theory he bases his life’s work on. He practically grinned from ear to ear as he looked you up and down to evaluate you.
“See Ian, I told you she was something special” Your father said, beaming with pride. You put on a faux innocent expression and simply said “What?”. Then you made eye contact with the professor.
Just then is when the weight of his appearance hit you. His eyes bored holes in yours, sparkling with curiosity. He was dressed all in black attire, a button down and slacks from work you were assuming, except the top few buttons on his shirt were undone and his sleeves were rolled up. You could see the chain he was wearing around his neck under his shirt and the many rings he had. His dark framed glasses slid down on his nose so you were looking right at him, his dark curly hair hiding none of his face.
Your faux innocence faltered severely, causing a shy smile and a large blush to creep up on your cheeks as you broke eye contact and looked down at your shoes. You heard him chuckle slightly from in front of you and then finally raised your head back up to look at your father.
“So,” you said “what’s for dinner?”
“Steak dinner tonight Y/n, only the best when we have guests over!” He laughed heartily.
“Please, don’t go through trouble for me-“ Malcolm started
“Nonsense!” Your father interrupted. “We have to celebrate anyway, dear Y/n is starting her last year of classes before she is off to graduate school this week as well, it’s no trouble at all!”
“Congratulations!” Professor Malcolm said looking over at you again. “That’s a big achievement to make it this far.”
“Well thank you, Dr. Malcolm. I got my schedule today and I think you will be pleased to hear there may be a theoretical mathematics course on my roster. My father said he wanted to go over it with me anyways tonight.”
He looked you straight in the eyes again and your heart sped up. It was difficult to keep eye contact with him for a long time. He was a man that practically screamed intelligence and power, and for the first time in your life you couldn’t get enough of it. The magnetism alone took you completely by surprise.
“Well don’t just stand there! Dinner’s about ready, why don’t you go get your roster from your room and bring it down here for afterwards.” Your father suggested.
“Happy to, be right back.” You said and you swiftly exited the room.
You went to your room and grabbed the Manila envelope off of your bed. Y/N Y/L/N was printed in big bold letters on the front. You turned and exited your room to walk swiftly through the hallways back to the kitchen. You suddenly saw a shadow round the corner just before you bumped into it and jumped back, startled.
“I’m so sorry, truly, I.. uh.. apologize” You hear, realizing it’s only the professor you nearly walked into.
“No worries at all sir, I just got startled” You say with a breath of relief.
“No need to call me sir, Y/n. Dr. Malcolm is fine, but please just call me Ian, if you’re more uh comfortable with that.” He said with a smirk playing on his lips as he pushed his glasses up.
“Well Dr. Mal- sorry, Ian, thank you for coming.”
“Please is mine. Your father sent me to get wine glasses, do you uh know where those might be?” He asked, leaning against the wall he was next to.
“First cabinet down this hallway, there should be 3 perfectly clean glasses on the left.” You replied.
“Thank you, uh, very much”
You make your way to the kitchen and meet your father’s giddy smile.
“What do you think of him?” Your father says.
“He seems intelligent, good humor I suppose.” You put forward attempt a nonchalant tone. “He’s quite the personality”
“He may be your professor someday Y/n! Wouldn’t that be lovely!” You hear him giggle. Your father was always happy-go-lucky, but he always seemed especially happy when company came over.
“All good things I hope?” You hear from behind you.
You turn to face the voice that rattled you. You discover Ian leaning against the door frame with three glasses in his hands. His glasses slide down his nose and you look into his eyes through them, having to look up to be able to see his tall frame. He flashes you a wink when you linger on him a little too long and your face heats up wildly.
“Always” You hear your father say.
You take the glasses from him and set them on the counter next to the bottle of wine he brought over. You feel heat rise up from behind you as Ian reaches over you to grab the bottle of wine and uncork it. You have seriously never not been able to control your impulses and thoughts, but something about him breaks down every barrier.
~~~▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄~~~
You get through the delicious dinner with nothing more than slight glances over the table and his occasional smirk. You got to discuss some theory with him, which was a great experience. Discussions of the major influences of current mathematics, difference in theoretical vs. practical statistics, other things you had been learning and studying for your many years of university.
You finally got to discuss the schedule for your next year of classes with your father, but he insisted that Dr. Malcolm stay to give you advice for your last semester. It wasn’t a horrible idea in concept, actually you would’ve normally appreciated the opportunity, but the man in question was driving you crazy and you couldn’t understand why. While him leaving meant you would probably never see him again so you could focus, you really wanted him to stay. No one had ever made you blush like he did and you wanted to get to the bottom of why, Even if it involved getting a drink or two with him.
“Euclidean Geometry with a Dr. Hack, Probability in Statistics III with a Dr. Brown, and-“ Your father paused “Application of Chaos Theory with our very own Dr. Ian Malcolm! What a coincidence!” You father beamed out with joy, lightly tapping you on the arm.
“Well you will be one of my most interesting, uh, students, Y/n.” He said, looking you in the eye. “I’ll be seeing more of you then?” He added, leaning in.
“Let’s see where it goes, Dr. Malcolm” You say, bolder than you meant which immediately causes you to shrink back. He gives you an all knowing smile, looking right through you.
For once, you were excited for school to start again.
Tags from the comments of the prompt post: @melonpire @datrie @druigswh0ree
#ian malcolm x reader#ian malcolm#jeff goldblum#jurassic park#ian malcolm imagines#jurassic park fanfiction#love this movie#fanfic#fanfiction
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Can somebody please write more fics with Jeff Golblum as The Wizard from the wicked movie please😅. There is nothing on Ao3
There is no way I gotta wait a year for Wonderful 😭
#Wicked#Wicked Movie#jeff goldblum#The Wizard#Wonderful#the wizard of oz#FanFic#i have issues#this man is so fine
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f i c m a s t e r l i s t
p o l i c i e s (please read before making requests!)
b a d s a m a r i t a n The Best of You, Honey, Belongs to Me Blackthorn Cover Myself in the Ashes of You Dumb Ways To Die Enough of You to Dull the Pain (18+) Hellbent Looking For A Godsend Hit Me With Your Best Shot I Got This Feeling On A Summer Day (18+) I'm Gooey in the Middle Baby Let Me Bake In His Eyes A Flaming Glow Intrigued and Afraid Keep You Like An Oath (18+) Killing Me Softly My Baby Shot Me Down (18+) Not Much Between Despair and Ecstasy (18+) Only Touch That Gets Me Melting (18+) Run Rabbit Run (18+) Say My Name Send a Thousand Kings Away Shia Surprise Something Good to Celebrate Stop, Look and Listen, It's Halloween! Taste of a Poison Paradise Trust in Me, Just in Me With Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart Your Body's a Secret Girl and You're About to Spill It (18+)
t h e b o y s Watch That Butcher Burn
b r o a d c h u r c h Always Leave Me With a Hungry Heart Am I Doing This Right? An Art to Life's Distractions Beating Like A Kick Drum Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do It's Been a Long, Long Time Love's Perfect Ache Now and Again We Try to Just Stay Alive Regale You With A Gourd-geous Tale Say You'll Remember Me Say You'll Remember Me (Denali's Version) Tell Me It's A Nightmare What My Heart Was Worth
d o c t o r w h o Cuddle, Meet Puddle Cute Things Don't Blink (Part 1) Don't Turn Your Back (Part 2) Don't Look Away (Part 3) Dreams See Us Through (Part 4) Hate the Feeling of Falling Have a Holly Jolly Christmas Horrible Things Isn't That Wizard It's How I'm Made Let Me Come Home Little Creepy House Love Letters On the Brave Shit The Origin of (Love Bug) Species What Beautiful Things I'll Wear When the Crypt Doors Creak You Know That I Would Jump Too
d u c k t a l e s Tales of Daring
g o o d o m e n s All I Want For Christmas Aziraphale's Favorite Author Dance on a Tightrope of Weird Free as My Hair His Love is All in Me How the Wine Plays Tricks on My Tongue Lockdown Blues Making Biscuits My Heart's a Stereo Naked in That Garden (18+) Out There Making DuckTales Pickin' Up the Pieces of the Mess You Made Road to Hell Something Meaty For The Main Course Step Too Far Tongue Tied Your Love is Holy (18+)
f a l l o f t h e h o u s e o f u s h e r Tomorrow I Shall Be Fetterless (18+)
f r i g h t n i g h t Emptiness to Melody Everybody Scream in Our Town of Halloween Fixed Up to the Nines Howl Like an Animal in the Darkness I'm So Hot I'd Fuck Myself (18+) I'm Starvin', Darlin', Let Me Put My Lips to Somethin' Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (18+) Make Me Glow Night of Long Fangs (18+) Parade of Dancing Skeletons Talk So Pretty (18+) Who Are You Supposed To Be, Criss Angel? (18+)
h a u n t i n g o f b l y m a n o r ???
j u r a s s i c p a r k / w o r l d Best Behavior The Future Ex Mrs. Malcolm
p r o d i g a l s o n But Then My Stupid Phone Beeps Never Fallen From Quite This High Office Supplies Rude Boy They are the Hunters, We are the Foxes Trigger Happy With a Sense of Poise (18+)
s l o w h o r s e s Imposing Figure Inappropriate
#denali writes#masterlist#broadchurch#doctor who#good omens#fright night#bad samaritan#prodigal son#jurassic park#slow horses#fall of the house of usher#ducktales#reader insert#fanfic#alec hardy x reader#tenth doctor x reader#thirteenth doctor x reader#aziraphale x reader#crowley x reader#peter vincent x reader#cale erendreich x reader#martin whitly x reader#ian malcolm x reader#river cartwright x reader#scrooge mcduck x reader#verna x reader#michael sheen#david tennant#jeff goldblum#jack lowden
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(x)
#archive of our own#ao3 quotes#ao3 stuff#archive of our own quotes#fanfic#fanfic quotes#funny#ao3#ao3 tags#starring Jeff Goldblum as himself#as every piece of media should
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You had me at
"Crowley In a Lab Coat"
by LaudaddySmitten
(GOAD Writer's Guild presents!)
I continue my theme of writing Good Omens fanfiction - WITH SCIENCE! 🥼 ♥️ 🔬🧪 ♥️ 🥼
I teased the artwork on this baby a bit in the past while (hint, amazing photo from the BAFTA's), see below the AO3 info for more on that!
Summary
Aziraphale's eyes were immediately drawn to the triangle of bare skin at the base of Crowley's throat, and all queries died before reaching his tongue. Crowley's deliciously deep v-neck henleys, which he always made even more enticing by undoing more buttons, fit just out of sight under the lab coat's lapels, showing off the curve of his clavicles and the deep suprasternal notch between them. With a start, Aziraphale realized he’d been blatantly staring at Crowley's throat and upper chest for heaven knows how long. Mortified, he snapped his eyes to Crowley's, which, uncovered, only further fueled his lust for the enticing botanist. Aziraphale was surprised to see that Crowley was sporting a smirk that looked…pleased. “Enjoying the view?” He arched an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh my, I er…..” Aziraphale gulped and looked down at his wringing hands. “How rude of me. I'm…ah, terribly sorry…” “Angel. Don’t apologize. I was actually…hoping you would.” Hands instantly stilled, Aziraphale looked up quickly. Had he heard that right?
CW: Rated E for Explicit sexual content. Read the tags on AO3!
Continue Reading on AO3:
This photo was the artwork tease/ clue:
Now that you've seen the artwork you probably know why. But just in case...
David Tennant (Crowley, ofc) + Jeff Goldblum's most iconic movie pose (from Jurassic Park):
Equals: Crowley In a Lab Coat by @lexarturo (She killed it!)
My original post/ tease on the matter:
Thank you betas of awesomeness, especially @ladybracknellssherry !! Also thanks to you and @riverstyx125 for the very last-minute help!
And help ages ago from other awesome people: @unapologetic-apathy @gingerhaole (for reference/inspiration art) and a couple other betas whose usernames I will find and add b/c tumblr hates me rn! lol @ezomind-the-other-one
And of course thanks to the Writer's Guild of @goodomensafterdark !
#crowley in a lab coat#science always belongs in fanfiction#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanfic#good omens fanart#good omens after dark#goad#goad writers community#writers of after dark#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#my fanfiction#my posts#david tennant#jeff goldblum#bafta 2024#I can't remember what else I should be tagging
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Unpredictable // Chapter One
Ian Malcolm x Original Female Character / masterlist
Chapter Summary: Lyanna Grant, niece to Alan Grant finds herself working on her uncle's latest dig site.
Unpredictable Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
Palaeontology. It was not an occupation that was extremely popular these days. However, it's always been what Lyanna wanted to do. Ever since she was young and visited the local museum for the first time. She must have been around eight. Her uncle had waited until she was old enough to remember the shock and awe of the things on display. Lyanna could remember gazing up at the razor-sharp teeth jutting out of the jaw of the tyrannosaurus skeleton and she knew. She just knew. This was it for her. Nothing could ever even come close.
Since that oh-so-fateful day, Lyanna became obsessed with the flora and fauna of the past. She read every book she could find, read every article, and found every fact. She collected figures and fossils and studied the subject furiously. It paid off well considering where she was at now, she supposed.
Lyanna was now one of the most well-known palaeontologists in the modern world... although she suspected that part of her reputation may have some due credit to her being the niece of Alan Grant, a professor and world-famous palaeontologist himself. They’d both written a book. His about the evolution of the dinosaurs and hers about the different types of creatures from different eras throughout the prehistoric periods and how ecological changes then impacted the way the animals evolved in turn.
Only a few years ago, Lyanna had finally gotten her Ph.D. certifications in palaeontology and had right off the bat found herself out in the field helping her uncle dig up dinosaurs. Sure, it could be considered mild nepotism but it was great working with family because she didn't feel so alone when she started working in Montana with him. It was a huge leap for her career not having to start at the very bottom of the palaeontological food chain. Alan made sure that the transition was as comfortable as possible. Lyanna really couldn't have asked for a better uncle slash boss...
"You alright there?" Dylan asked, breaking her from her thoughts and redirecting her attention to the task at hand.
"Yeah," she replied wistfully. "Sorry, I was just thinking." Dylan was another graduate from Lyanna’s class. Alan had picked him up too when she’d graduated, claiming that new blood would be good for the digs. And it had been, given that they had a pretty constant trickle and turnover of volunteers as they grew bored with the heat and the sand.
"About what?" He asked curiously, fingering the dust out of a fossilised eye socket.
"Just about how lucky I am," Lyanna replied with a small smile. She really was, and because she was self-aware about it, it made it easier to appreciate just how far she’d come in such a short time.
Dylan snorted and returned to the work at hand. They were currently excavating the skeleton of a Velociraptor. Lyanna was brushing away the few stray sands that were still on the pelvic bone of the creature.
"You know, I'd hate to meet a raptor on a dark Friday night. Look at those teeth- they’d shred through you like a mandolin,” he winced, glancing up at Lyanna quickly.
"Yeah, I completely agree. It would be terrifying. Thankfully, a giant meteor crashed into the earth and prevented that, hey?" She laughed, pleased with her joke. Dylan chuckled and shook his head in mock irritation. “Though it wouldn’t necessarily shred you. See-” Lyanna ran a finger over the teeth worn through with time.
“They’re built to grip and tear the flesh from the bones, so it would be more like…” Lyanna searched for some kind of analogy that would make more sense. “Getting stuck in a bear trap. You’re not going to be able to get out of it without ripping half of your leg off unless you unlatch the jaws.”
"Doctor Grant? We're ready to try again." Lyanna heard the voice say from across the site. She clutched at her hat as a gust of dry wind tried to blow it away.
"I'm going to go check this out, okay?" She said to Dylan while standing up and brushing herself off. He nodded distractedly and kept working. It wouldn’t be long now until they’d be able to get the bones out and shipped off for analysis and study.
Glancing one more time at the partially exhumed skeleton, Lyanna stepped out from under the cover and immediately felt the beating hot Montana sun on her back. If she wasn’t sweating before, she certainly was now.
During her short time working with her uncle, Lyanna had acquired a golden tan that covered most of her body except the parts of herself that were shielded by her clothes. It was almost like she wore tan gloves and thigh-highs. It was a good thing she didn’t get about much without a longer-sleeved shirt or shorts on. Lyanna made a mental note to try and get the rest of herself tanned up the next time she hit town.
Before she came to the desert wasteland that she now called home, Lyanna was quite pale. Many of her friends constantly joked about how she was probably a vampire because of the paleness of her skin and because of how she spent most of her nights studying deep into the early hours of the morning. That was, of course, before she made it out to Montana and was dead asleep by ten in the evening most nights from all the hot sun and hard labour during the day.
Lyanna started jogging when she felt and heard the soft lead pellet enter the ground over by the scanner tent. She wanted to see how the new technology worked, given that this was likely the future of archaeology and she’d need to know if she hoped to run her own digs someday.
She reached the area just in time for an image of a Velociraptor to pop up on the computer screen. Damn. She missed it. There was always next time, she supposed.
"This new program is incredible. A few more years of development, and we won't even have to dig anymore," Danny, working at the computer said. Lyanna did not miss the tone of barely contained glee in his voice.
"I hope not," Lyanna spoke, making her presence known to the group gathered around the computer. “I only just joined this circus.”
“Absolutely,” Alan turned around and grinned at her knowingly. “Where’s the fun in that?”
"It looks in good shape," Lyanna said, gesturing to the image on the screen and leaning in for a better look.
"Chip off the old block you are,” Alan smiled slyly, quiet pride shining through his features. “Yes, it looks about five maybe six feet high. I'm guessing about nine feet long," he reached up and accidentally touched the screen, making the image distort and flicker.
"What'd you do?" He asked Danny, pursing his lips disdainfully.
"You touched it. Dr Grant isn't machine-compatible," Ellie said with a laugh. Lyanna nudged at her shoulder and tried to contain her laughter. If there was one thing Alan hated above all else- it was technology.
While Ellie wasn’t a blood relative, Lyanna still considered Ellie her aunt. She basically was her second mother, considering how she’d been around since Lyanna was quite young. She’d taken her on and supported Lyanna when she needed it, and was a huge source of motivation for her to finish her studies when she’d struggled and hit hiccups along the way.
"Hell, they've got it in for me," Alan added in agreement, touching the top of the makeshift dust shield over the monitor screen.
The image corrected itself and Alan continued assessing the skeleton.
"Look at this," he said, turning to the group of volunteers behind him. "It's no wonder these guys learned how to fly." The group chuckled, not seeing the similarities between the two types of skeletons. It wasn’t a popular opinion shared amongst the scientific community, but knowing Alan as she did, Lyanna knew he wasn’t likely to soon give up on proving it.
"No seriously,” Lyanna piped up, “he's right. Do you see the pubic bone, turned backwards like a bird?" She asked, backing him up.
"It's true. Dinosaurs have more in common with modern-day birds than they do with reptiles," Alan bounced off her comment, turning to face the group. Ah, here is where they got the scientific benefits from their volunteering.
"Look at the vertebrae, full of air sacs and hollows, just like a bird's and even the word "raptor" means ‘bird of prey’."
Lyanna could see that Alan was going to get into one of his infamous rants, and she noticed a couple of volunteers back up a step as if to wander off and do something else.
"That doesn't look very scary. More like a six-foot turkey," they heard a kid's voice from the back of the group call out. Lyanna sighed before rubbing the sand and sweat from her forehead. This was the downside to having volunteers. She would be lying, however, if Lyanna said she didn’t laugh after seeing Alan's reaction.
"Here we go,” Ellie chuckled, knowing what was about to happen.
"Okay then, imagine yourself in the Cretaceous period," Alan began, walking forward and fishing out his raptor claw that he had acquired back on his first-ever dig right out of university. Lyanna could remember many days in his study when he was home between digs fiddling with it and imagining the beast that used to be connected to it. She considered it an heirloom and secretly hoped that Alan did, too.
"You get your first look at this ‘six-foot turkey’. He moves like a bird, lightly bobbing his head.” Alan moved slowly towards the kid, Johnny, Lyanna thought his name was. “You keep still because you think that maybe his visual acuity is based on movement like a T-Rex and he'll lose you if you don't move.” He shook his hand, imitating movement.
"But no," he paused, "not Velociraptor. You stare at him and he just stares right back." By this point, all of the volunteers and workers were captivated by Alan's words, hasty escapes forgotten. Lyanna was too, to be honest. But then again, she’d been enraptured by Alan’s words since she’d been a tot, so it wasn’t all that different to usual.
"And that's when the attack comes," he raised his hands, bringing his two pointer fingers up side by side to show that raptors didn't hunt by themselves. "Not from the front, but from the sides. From the other two raptors you didn't even know were there," he and Lyanna both smirked. Alan stood up straight.
"Because Velociraptors are pack hunters... they use coordinated attack patterns and he attacks you with this," he raised the claw to show Johnny, whose eyes widened comically.
"A six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe," Alan placed the claw between his index and middle finger, showing him where the claw would have been situated. "He doesn't bite your jugular like a lion, no. He slashes at you here or here," he said, raking the claw along different places of the kid's torso.
"Or maybe your belly. Spilling your intestines," he then smiled, crouching down again so that his eyes were level with Johnny’s. "The point is... you are alive when they start to eat you," he grins, satisfied with the reaction he had elicited.
Even Lyanna thought he might have gone a little far.
Johnny nods and hurries off. Alan turned and chuckled after seeing the look on Ellie's face. She didn’t look particularly impressed, but she also looked amused, so Alan must have known he wasn’t in too much trouble.
"Johnny is probably going to have nightmares now, Alan," Lyanna snorted, crossing her arms playfully.
"There's nothing to be afraid of. They've been dead for 65 million years," he said factually.
"It's the power of the imagination," she responded, tapping the side of his head. He smiled down at her and patted her shoulder affectionately.
The three of them started walking up the hill that separated them from the rest of the camp.
"You know, if you wanted to scare the kid you could have pulled a gun on him," Ellie laughed, pulling the brim of her bucket hat down to shield her face from the beating sun.
"Yeah, I know. I can't believe you want to have one of those," Alan replied, gesturing back towards the scanner area where the volunteers were wheeling the new equipment out of the sun.
"I don't think she wants that particular kid," Lyanna laughed, wiping another layer of sweat from her forehead.
"Exactly. I mean, a breed of child would be intriguing. What's so wrong with kids?" Ellie asked, squinting at Alan.
"Oh Ellie... they're noisy, they're messy, they're expensive," Alan listed, trekking up the sand dune.
Ellie and Lyanna both laughed but she could see where he was coming from. Life was becoming more expensive by the day. One or two probably wouldn’t break the average person’s bank, though.
"They smell," Alan added after a second of consideration.
"They do not smell!" Ellie laughed, shaking her head at the audacity.
"Babies smell," he reasoned, pointing an accusatory finger at her. He had her there, Lyanna supposed.
Before Ellie could answer, there was a loud rumbling coming from the sky.
"Is that a chopper?" Lyanna asked, shielding her eyes from the bright midday sun.
"We aren’t due for another inspection,” Alan replied just as the black machine came into view. Then he thought about it for another moment. “Are we?”
"I don't know but let's find out,” Lyanna thought out loud as the chopper started to come down towards the ground. And not on the dedicated landing strip either, she noticed.
“Oh shit,” she exclaimed suddenly, bolting into motion. “The dig!”
#unpredictable#Ian malcolm#ian malcolm fanfic#Ian Malcolm fanfiction#Ian Malcolm imagine#jeff goldblum#jurassic park#jurassic park fic#jurassic park fanfic#jurassic park fanfiction#ian malcolm x ofc#ian malcolm x original female character
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Should be working on my Wizard fic but got distracted by watching both current and old interviews of Jeffrey on YouTube instead 😭
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Intro
•°•°
Finch / logan
19 year old autistic artist
Pansexual, transgender man who's also possibly asexual?
He/they
Fixating on KAOS, wicked, X-Men, Jeff goldblum, pokemon, resident evil, and sometimes draw warrior cats aus of his favorite interests from time to time..
Blocked on site;
Minors, anyone under the age of 18, 'antis' or anyone who wastes their breath on petty fiction drama. (Tumblr glitches sometimes so I can't really keep track of who follows me so u just gotta deal with me struggling 😭)
#intro ; just blow in from stupid town?#intro post#blog intro#wicked musical#wicked the musical#wicked movie#jeff goldblum#fanfic#fanfiction#resident evil#kaos netflix#18+ mdni#mdni#proship safe#profic#proship#dont like dont interact#dont like dont read
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Jeff goldblum as the wizard in Wicked: sit down
Me: im sat.
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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 2
Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader
Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)
Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship
Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.
Word Count: 2,899 of 5,084 Prev | Next
AO3 Link
The Markets of Oz are normally packed during the daytime, ladies coming and going to get groceries and maybe a new dress or two, but they are flooded during the night markets of Lurlinemas. If you have the chance to look without getting swallowed in the waves of the crowd, you can see green lights strung from brick building to brick building (the bricks painted green for lack of renovation funds), newly built stalls in the main square that sold roasted quail for a quarter, and a great Spruce that had been brought in from Winkie Country, its top cresting just past the meager buildings that boxed in the square. Emily tugs me along as I admire the great golden star that was perched atop it, emeralds chiseled into the shape of snowflakes adorning each tip.
"If we move any slower they're going to run out of hot chocolate," she says, pulling me by my elbow.
The hot chocolate in the night market is one of a kind, spiced with warm cinnamon and sweetened to the point that it hurts your teeth. If I could have it year-round, I think I would like that very much, even if I did eventually get sick of it. I follow after her in our immediate quest, trying to shoulder oblivious men and women out of the way.
"How many presents do you need to get?" I ask as we get in line for the cocoa.
Emily pulls her green-gloved hands out of her pocket, silently ticking off her checklist on her fingers. "Six," she says.
I try not to drop my jaw at the idea of such wastefulness. I'm not sure there are six people that I could call friends, much less that I would be willing to spend my wages on for silly presents. In truth, there was one, but she would chastise me if I tried to get her anything. Still, I couldn't help but wish for something to get her.
We order our hot chocolate and sip it as we stroll through the sea, dipping and dodging any particularly rude costume choices. We had stuck to our uniforms, hiding them under the woolen pine-colored peacoats that were standard issue for when we had to lend an extra hand in shoveling off any balconies that got covered in snow during the wintertime. There was no option for us to have extra extra wide-brimmed hats or wired puffy sleeves that were the size of small dogs. Even if we had the option, I don't think that I would have done it on a regular market day, much less in the nights leading up to Lurlinemas.
Emily stops at an ornament seller and takes her time browsing the brilliant sun catchers and rhinestone-encrusted baubles. The glass and “sodering” (I’m sure it’s silver-colored glue) look far too flimsy, so I tell her I'm going to the next booth to look at ribbons and laces. The price of laces haven't gotten any better (in fact they had gone up by 6 cents) but I look at them anyway.
Most clothing could be mended, but there was only so much to be done about laces as they became more and more unraveled. If you had a friend in the mailroom, you could persuade them to let you borrow some rubber cement to stick the frays back together. If you didn't, you had to dip the tips of your laces in the wax of your candle at night. The wax didn't last nearly as long as the cement, usually cracking off within a day or two. I wasn’t friendly with anyone in the mail room, so I had slowly been shortening and dipping my laces until they just barely tied in a regular knot.
My eyes flicked over the shades of olive and forest and moss, until they had reached the box of ribbons. There is a skip in my heart as I remember how the Wizard had tied the ribbon in my hair just days ago. If I close my eyes, I can feel his hands guiding the ribbon up from the nape of my neck and the warmth that radiated from them as he tied the bow in place. If it is true or not, in my mind he has a smile when he looks at me after. I wonder if these ribbons would make him smile like the one I still have in my hair, if they would make him...
I have to look away from the ribbons for a brief moment. The thoughts I had of him since that day have not been pure and kind. They are selfish. I know that they will lead me down a path of trouble if I linger on them. I have my sister to think about and it would not do if I were to lose my job at the palace. I could not save her from the children's home, but they still let me visit her and send her things. I don't send her much, most of it disappears within a few days, but I bring her sweets if I have time to swing by the bakery after I am no longer needed for the day.
Looking back at the ribbons, I can't help but wish I could get one for her. I want her to feel as pretty as I did that day in the Wizard's bedroom. The kids would have a harder time taking the ribbon from her if I braided it into her hair, away from their jealous hands. My eyes flick up to the price card that is held in a coily golden wire stand. 200 cents! It's more than double the price of the laces.
I bite my lip, but my mind is already made up. I look at the shop lady, but she has her back turned attending to the till and adding pennies to it from a green paper sleeve. I snatch a pistachio-colored satin ribbon and shove it into the pocket of my peacoat. Quickly, I slip back out into the crowd of people, heading back to Emily in the ornament booth.
I'm jerked back, my forearm locked in an iron grip as it is hoisted high, so high above my head that I'm afraid my shoulder will dislocate.
"Hey!" I shout.
"There is zero tolerance for stealing in the Emerald City," The man says. I scrape my tiptoes against the ground to get a better look at him and realize that I've been detained by one of the Emerald City's Royal Guards. The green coat with gold trim and accents is unmistakable, accompanied by a sharp green officer's cap.
"I didn't steal," I lie.
He fishes into my coat pocket and pulls out the ribbon that I had stashed in there. "Is that so?" he says. My shoulder burns as he drags me back to the lace and ribbon booth, chucking the spooled-up ribbon back to the shop lady. "Sorry about that, Hazel. Street rat."
I can't help it as the words come flying out of my mouth, “I am not a street rat! I work at the palace!"
"Good," he says. "Then I know where to take you. Lets me get off my shift earlier at least."
He lowers my arm, only to twist it up behind my back, his other gloved hand grabbing hold of the collar of my coat. I shout at Emily, trying to fight against him as he marches us past the ornament booth, but I'm not sure she heard me. She has a confused look on her face as I'm dragged off, but she doesn't do anything to interfere. We may share a bed in this cold weather, but she's never been the type to stick her neck out for anyone, no matter how big or small the injustice. I wouldn't expect her to start with me.
By the time we get to the palace the hand behind my back is numb from the position and the cold air. The shame and fight has long since left my body, my mind trying to focus on how I will provide for my sister and me, or even if I will be allowed to see her again. Do they let criminals into the children's home? Would they even let me stay in the Emerald City? I try to remember what happened to criminals that were detained in the palace. There had been a boy in the kitchen who had been caught with a whole ham hock in his bag when the kitchen staff was closing up one night this past summer. It had been such a scandal -- it was all the staff could talk about for two whole weeks straight -- but in the end, I could not remember what had become of him, only his original crime that had been passed on by those who had been in the kitchen when the joint had been discovered.
We don't go through the main doors, neither the servant's entrance, but rather a side door that I had never seen before. It must have been for guard use only. They crawl the castle like an infestation of ants, so it only seems natural that they, like ants, would have cracks and crevices to aid their coming and going. It's dark, but soon I see that we are in the main entryway. If I can remember correctly, the guards' barracks and offices occupy the left wing from the audience room (convenience for removing unruly guests from the days of King Pastoria, I suppose). Most in the Wizard's personal service have no reason to go there.
The Wizard. There's a sort of heavy disappointment that sits like an oversized and cold jewel on my chest, deep beneath the layers of wool and scarves and uniform. It's not the disappointment that a child might feel under the disapproving eye of a parent, no. It is something entirely unfamiliar: an anger at myself that I might never see him again, that my last impression on him will be one of a thief. But wasn't that what I was? I had stolen the ribbon, no intention of paying.
The guard marches me up through the darkened emerald halls, passing the large pillars, the walls carved with their sharp geometric designs. I take in the sight of all of it knowing that it will be my last time seeing any of it. We're crossing the audience room, the heart of the entire palace, and nearly to the other side when I see him.
He's in a deep green almost black suit. The lapels of the jacket are peaked giving him the appearance of being even taller than he already is. He's talking to a stocky man, at least two heads shorter than him and twice as wide, wearing the uniform of the palace guards with a few additional golden cords strung over his chest that my jailer doesn't have.
I try walking faster, dragging the guard who had my arm pinned behind my back. I don't want him to see me like this. Better to just have all of my stuff gathered and thrown out the back door with me than to disgrace myself even further.
"Uh…Guard," a voice calls. I know it's his. I hate that I know that it's his.
My captor stops in his tracks, spinning us around to address the two men. "Captain," he says, giving a nod to the shorter man.
The Wizard has a confused if not irritated look on his face. I can tell that I've made him upset. How poorly must this reflect on the palace if members of his staff are getting arrested in the street? He says, "Are you going somewhere?"
The guard looks to the stocky man who gives him a subtle nod of the head. "Street rat," my captor says. "I caught her stealing in the market. I'm taking her to booking and calling the head of staff for the palace. She said she works here."
"Well, yeah," the Wizard says. "I can see that. Anyone can see that." He approaches me and pinches the thick wool of one of my coat lapels in between his thumb and forefinger. I try not to look too hard at the gold ring on his thumb as he drags it back and forth lazily against the material, stroking it as if to assess the warmth of the garment. "She's wearing a palace coat. Initials on it and everything."
My captor seems tongue-tied by this, I can hear his mouth open, a gasp for air as if to say something but nothing comes out. I dare to look up and see that the Wizard has his eyes locked on him. The way he's looking at him with those amber eyes reminds me of grade school, when we learned about the flora and fauna of Oz in biology. When talking of tigers, our teacher had told us that if you could see their eyes through the grass it was already too late. You had been stalked for hours before even noticing and they never got close enough for you to notice until you couldn't get away even if you tried. Foolishly, he tries, saying, "I need to take her to booking. She is a stain on the image of the palace."
The wizard drops my lapel and walks back to the officer that is now resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. It makes me nervous, but I'm not sure for who. Would they execute me right here in the audience chamber? I wouldn't be the first. The Wizard bends down and whispers something to the officer. I watch his eyes tick back and forth as he processes the secret.
"Guard," the officer says, "Leave her to me. I am sure you are wanted back in the square. Where there is one thief there is sure to be more."
I can't see his face, but I know that my captor is annoyed. He'd been hoping to clock out early and now he had to walk all the way back down to the market square. That brings a smile to my face as I hear the hesitant click of his boots and feel all the blood start rushing back into my arm as he lets me go.
We stand there, the three of us, until we hear the loud echo of the door shutting. The short man salutes the Wizard and makes his exit. The smile drops from my face as I realize what little law and witnesses there were had just walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the tiger.
"Stealing?" he says, cocking his head to the side. Immediately, he sets to pacing around me.
"It was just a ribbon, Your Wonderfulness," I say. My shoes have become infinitely more interesting to me, noticing the way even the stitching of the leather to the soles was starting to fray near the toes.
He laughs and it is quiet and deep, sending a prickling from my shoulders down my spine. "Did you like the first one that much? You could have asked for another."
"It wasn't for me," I say.
I can feel him tug on the braids that wrap my head. I had woven the ribbon into them earlier today. There hadn't been a day where I hadn't worn his ribbon since I got it. It was risky, and eventually Emily or someone else would catch on, but I didn't want to leave it in my nightstand and come back to find it missing, pilfered by someone's sticky fingers. So I had woven it into my hair where no one could take it, where the Wizard was now tracing its crooked and dashed path against my scalp.
"You are a terrible liar, missy" he says. "What are we going to do with you?"
Let me go? Kick me out of the palace? In truth, I wanted things to just go back to the way they were, no ribbon, no staff suspicions, just me and my chores and the shared bed with Emily. My voice quavers as I feel his finger stray from the twisted path of the ribbon, wandering onto the pulse of my bare neck, stopping underneath the corner of my jaw. "I won't do it again," I choke out.
"Oh, I have no doubt of that," he says. "But you can't be trusted. To have a thief in my staff... well, it would just cause too many problems. First ribbons, next other things..." He completes his circle around me and I find myself facing him again.
"Are you going to kill me?" I ask.
He smiles, revealing to me a flash of hungry white teeth. Too late. He says, "Do you want me to?"
I shake my head, my lips stitched together in case any wrong words should fall from them.
"Such a fascinating creature," he says, perhaps to me or perhaps to himself. "I'll deal with you tomorrow. Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest? I have... things to arrange."
He leaves me there in the audience chamber, shaking. If you see them, it is too late. I am standing there, head still on my shoulders, and yet I know that I haven't escaped. If you see them, it is too late.
#wicked fanfiction#wicked 2024#the wizard x reader#the wizard fanfiction#wicked 2024 fanfic#jeff goldblum
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prophecy | fiyero x reader
summary; just a seer, prince, secrets, love, & destiny.
author’s note; I totally knew I had to write something new after reading a whole ass fanfic about star-crossed lovers. fiyero lovers should I do a whole ass fiyero x reader fanfic? But what kind of plot? I also wanna do The Wizard x reader but would any read it? Jeff Goldblum is just ughh…iykyk…Btw everyone, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! REQUEST ALL YOU CAN PEOPLE!
Reserved yet academically brilliant—that was who Y/N L/N was, a late enrollee at Shiz University. She stepped off the small boat onto the school’s grounds, her movements cautious yet purposeful. Her gaze darted around the sprawling campus, seeking a sign of faculty or staff to guide her. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, keeping her head low, trying not to attract attention.
And yet, attention found her.
“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure where to go, Mr...?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.
“Fiyero,” he said with an easy smile. “Just call me Fiyero.”
There was something about him that struck her. Maybe it was the carefree confidence he exuded, or the way his grin seemed to challenge the very notion of seriousness. But Y/N simply nodded, her expression neutral.
“Oh, okay. Have a nice day, Fiyero.” She turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, intrigued and slightly off-balance. He wasn’t used to being dismissed so quickly—and certainly not by someone as mysterious as her.
Fiyero couldn’t shake her from his thoughts. There was something about Y/N that made him curious, something beneath the surface she seemed desperate to hide. He sought her out, always finding excuses to cross her path, but their encounters were less than pleasant.
“Why do you keep showing up?” she snapped one day after he "accidentally" ran into her outside the library.
“Maybe I just like a challenge,” he shot back, his grin turning mischievous. “You’re not exactly the warmest person, you know.”
She glared at him, her green eyes flashing. “Maybe that’s because I don’t want to be bothered.”
“Or maybe you’re just afraid to let anyone in,” he countered, his tone softening for just a moment before he turned and walked away, leaving her stunned and fuming.
The tension between them only grew. Fiyero’s playful teasing grated on her nerves, and her sharp retorts stung more than she intended. But underneath the barbs and glares, there was an unspoken connection neither could deny.
One evening, during a school event, Fiyero caught her alone in the garden.
“Why do you hide yourself away from me? From everyone?” he asked, his voice devoid of its usual teasing edge.
Her eyes, bright and sharp, flickered with something unreadable. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied softly, turning away. “And I don’t care.”
“You do care,” he said, stepping closer. “You just don’t want to admit it. But I see you, Y/N. You’re not as invisible as you think.”
Her breath caught, but she refused to let him see her falter. “Maybe you should stop looking,” she said, her voice colder than she felt.
But he didn’t stop.
The problem was, Y/N had a secret. A dangerous one. She was a seer, burdened with visions she couldn’t control and truths she often wished she didn’t know. Her gift—or curse, as she saw it—made it impossible to lead a normal life. People who got too close to her either feared her or tried to use her. She’d sworn to herself that Shiz would be different. She would keep her head down, stay invisible.
No attachments.
No risks.
And then there was Fiyero.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N’s resolve faltered. Fiyero had found her once again, his presence as insistent as ever.
“I wonder,” she whispered, almost to herself, her voice trembling as her gaze met his.
Her hand reached up, almost of its own accord, brushing against his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed at her touch, the softness of it disarming him completely.
Her heart pounded as she leaned in, her lips brushing his softly. The moment they touched, the world seemed to shift around her. But it wasn’t the warmth of the kiss that consumed her; it was the vision that followed.
Images flooded her mind. She saw them together, standing side by side through trials and triumphs. But the vision turned dark, shadowed by an ominous foretelling. One of them would fall. One of them would die.
She gasped, pulling away as if burned. Her hands trembled, and her breath came in shallow gasps. Fiyero reached for her, his concern evident.
“What’s wrong? What did I do?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and worry.
“It’s not you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me. It’s… us.”
She turned and fled, leaving him standing there, his heart aching with the weight of her words.
Y/N tried to avoid him after that, but Fiyero was persistent. His determination to understand her only grew stronger.
“Why are you running from me?” he demanded one day, cornering her in an empty hallway. “What are you so afraid of?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” he pressed, his eyes searching hers. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get it. If I let you in, if we…” She trailed off, unable to say the words. “I saw it, Fiyero. I saw what happens if we’re together. One of us dies.”
He froze, the weight of her confession sinking in. But instead of stepping back, he took a step closer.
“And if we’re apart? What then?” he asked. “Do we just live half-lives, pretending this doesn’t exist? Pretending we don’t exist?”
She stared at him, her resolve crumbling under the force of his words. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.
“You don’t have to know,” he said gently, his hands reaching up to cradle her face. “You just have to trust me. Trust us.”
It wasn’t until much later that she let her guard down, piece by fragile piece. The change was slow, marked by stolen moments and quiet confessions. The bickering turned to banter, the walls between them crumbling with each shared glance and unspoken understanding.
“Would you love me if you knew?” she asked him one night, her voice barely above a whisper.
“If I knew what?” he pressed gently, his eyes searching hers.
She hesitated, her heart pounding. “If you knew who I really am. What I can do.”
His answer came without hesitation. “I would love you if the sun burned out and the moon disappeared. I would love you if the stars fell from the sky and the earth itself crumbled beneath our feet. I would give up everything—my title, my name, my future—just to have you by my side.”
His voice cracked with emotion as he reached for her, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streamed down her face. “Just say the word, Y/N. Say you’ll be mine, and I’ll move heaven and earth for you.”
Tears blurred her vision, but she smiled through them, her heart finally yielding to the truth she could no longer deny.
“I love you, Fiyero,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the flood of emotions. “With bonds no one can break, I am yours.”
He pulled her close, their foreheads touching as they breathed each other in. “And I am yours,” he murmured.
Their lips met again, but this time, it was a kiss of certainty, of promises made and futures entwined. Whatever storms lay ahead, they would face them together. For the first time, Y/N let herself believe in something more than fear or duty.
She let herself believe in love.
tags; @tn22220-blog
#fiyero tigelaar x reader#fiyero x reader#the wizard x reader#the wizard#wicked the wizard#wicked fiyero#fiyero tigelaar#wicked movie#wicked#jonathan bailey#jeff goldblum
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*hits Wicked with the PMD-ification beam*
More characters (and spoilers for Act Two!) under the cut!
Elphie: Shiny Espeon fits her So well. Since it’s kind of a disliked Shiny, that works even better
Nessa: I think she’ll evolve into Umbreon in Act Two, but I couldn’t fit her in. Also have no idea if the silver shoes should stay shoes
Boq: If I had a nickel for every time I’ve had a timid Scyther character, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice (re: my old PMD fanfic, Darkest Before the Dawn). But srsly, Scyther evolving into Scizor is too good not to use. The Tin Man by the way, has Durant plating
Fiyero: Dartrix is described as a dandy in the Pokédex. Need I say more? The Scarecrow fit well as a Hisuian Decidueye due to the coloring, but he also has patches from a Substitute doll!
Dorothy: I didn’t know what to do with Toto, so I made Dorothy a dog. She’s a human from our real world, obv, and turned into a pokemon in Oz
Glinda: Mega Audino fits her perfectly. It’s flowy and frilly and pink!
The Wizard: Rotom was a suggestion from a friend on Discord. After suggesting that he’s just a PNG of Jeff Goldblum. I imagine Wizard Rotom can project a Jeff Goldblum PNG tho. Anyway, he also was once a human. And I know Shiny Rotom isn’t green. He Had to be green tho. They said they could “dye [Dorothy’s] eyes to match her gown” in the Emerald City. Surely they can change a Rotom’s electricity color
#pmd#pokemon#wicked#wicked 2024#pokemon mystery dungeon#my art#Espeon#snubbul#scizor#Scyther#Eevee#mega audino#dartrix#hisuian decidueye#rotom#the wizard of oz
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I unfortunately need someone to write Jeff Goldblum Wizard of Oz fanfic, he’s too fine
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