#love seeing some guys in a spaceship

[amarkofcain]

"guys in a spaceship" is really one of the genres of all time. like no way dude i wonder what they're gonna do in the spaceship this week

[sanguineterrain]

crushin' | jason todd

Summary: Barbara invites you to dinner with the Bats. She's done so before, and you've always declined, but this time, you agree because the Bat you've had a crush on for ages will be there. Little do you know, the only reason he's staying for dinner is because of you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings/tags: batfam shenanigans, dick is a good meddling brother and deserves a fruit basket, fluff and humor, kissing, crushes, love confessions. just wanted to write something sweet and light :)

the divider

"So you're gonna press this," Barbara says, demonstrating on her own screen.

You follow along, clicking and typing. She nods.

"Good. Then you're gonna do this."

You open the file. A video of what looks to be Bruce drunkenly hula-hooping pops up. Your eyes widen.

"And that's how you keep Bruce in check," Barbara says, patting your shoulder. "Use sparingly. Only when he's getting on your last nerve."

"Wow," you say. "Babs, I... I don't know if I should have this kind of power."

"No, it's cool. I have dirt on everyone in this family, so really, it's my power. You're the only one who gets to see the vault."

You look at her. "You scare me."

She grins. "Thanks! Anyway, you're free to go. They'll be back from the mission soon, so our job is pretty much over."

The computer beeps. She checks the notification and types back. Then she hums.

"Or, you can, y'know, join us for dinner. Alfred keeps wondering when you'll do so."

You press your lips together. "I dunno, Babs... are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. Seriously. And you know what I just found out? Jason will be here too."

Well. That does certainly stop your refusal in its tracks. You haven't seen Jason properly since he returned. You feel a pang of guilt at that; true, he's never at the Manor, at least not when you're around. But you could've reached out by now.

Still, being able to see him again properly is a wonderful opportunity. One you can't pass up.

"Okay," you say. "I'll join you all. As long as Alfred's okay with it."

She rolls her eyes, smiles. "Don't be ridiculous. C'mon."

You follow her to the elevator Bruce got installed for her. In the Manor, most of the family are sitting down to dinner. Damian and Cass are on one side of the table. Bruce is at the head. Alfred is still bustling in the kitchen.

You start to pull out the chair next to Cass, but Barbara startles you.

"That's Dick's chair!" She smiles sympathetically. "Sorry. He's particular. Isn't he, guys?"

"Yes," Cass says. "He's comfortable here."

"I've no idea what you're referring to, Gordon," says Damian. He nods at you. "Hello."

You smile. "Hey, Damian. That's fine. I'll sit next to you, Babs." You sit in the middle of three chairs, with Barbara on your right and an empty chair on your left.

"Hi, Cass. Hello, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce," he reminds you. That's not happening. It feels way too weird to call him Bruce, even though you've known him since Jason was Robin. Just, no.

Cass smiles. "Hello. Glad to have you."

"Where's Tim and Duke?" you ask.

"Thomas is at university," Damian says. "Drake is probably with that idiot clone he calls a boyfriend."

Bruce looks up. "Tim and Connor are dating?"

"Good God," Barbara mumbles.

"Well, yes, Father. They've been dating for quite some time, even shared a room together. Last month, Drake went undercover in Atlantic City and the clone—"

"Old man! Where are you?"

"Jason, just—"

"Shut it, Dickhead."

The grandfather clock swings open, revealing the Cave entrance. Up stomps Jason, followed by Dick. Jason has a smear of purple goo on his forehead, but otherwise is clean. His back is to you.

Jason points an accusing gloved finger at Bruce. "You owe me a new bike, new guns, new gear, new phone, new—"

"Jason, slow down. Why exactly do I owe you new things?" Bruce asks.

"Because Tweedle-Dum here didn't scan the fuckin' spaceship that landed in Syracuse and melted my bike with purple goo!"

"It said it was empty," Dick says tiredly. "How was I supposed to know an abandoned ship would spit goo?"

"Okay, alright, boys, don't fight. Yes, Jason, I'll compensate everything you lost in Syracuse."

"Yeah, you will. And a new fridge." Jason thinks. "And a new TV."

"Master Jason," Alfred begins, walking into the dining room with a dish of roasted potatoes. "You may continue your bargaining with Master Bruce after dinner. Wipe that alien sludge off your face and have a seat."

Jason sighs. "Alf, I appreciate the invite, but you know I don't dine with most of the folks at this table. Gets real fuckin' crowded."

"Master Jason, watch your language," Alfred says sternly. "We have a guest. Behave like the young man I raised you to be."

Jason scoffs. "Who, Barbie? She doesn't—" He turns and stops, staring at you.

You smile, suddenly self-conscious. "Hi."

He swallows, eyes wide. "Hi. Hey."

"Aren't you staying for dinner?" you ask, confused. "Barbara said you were."

"I—" He glances at Barbara, then looks at you. "Uh. Well. I don't really..."

"C'mon, Jay, you guys should catch up!" Dick says brightly, already seated.

Jason's mouth sours as he turns to Dick. You pull out the chair next to you and tap the seat.

"You can sit next to me," you say, looking up at Jason.

He immediately turns back to you, lips parted. "Oh. I—y-yeah. Sure. Thanks."

"Master Jason. The goo," Alfred reminds, raising a brow. "And hang up your jacket."

Jason quickly backs up and bumps into the table corner. He winces.

"Right. I'm gonna... yeah. Be right back."

Jason disappears down the hall. Dick grins wolfishly at Barbara.

"You're amazing," he says.

"I know," she says, shrugging.

Alfred serves the last tray of vegetables, then sits. Jason soon returns, gloves and jacket away and goo-free.

"Did you style your hair, Todd?" Damian asks.

"No. Shut it." Jason scoots in his chair, glaring at his brother. But when you pass him the tray of roast, his expression softens. He smiles at you.

"Thanks," he says, and puts three slices on his plate. "Great roast, Alf."

"You haven't tried it," Alfred says, but looks very pleased.

"Don't need to."

"We're very glad you're here, Jason," Bruce says. "All things considered—"

Jason holds up a hand. "Ah-ah. I'm not here for you, old man. Save the speech for another day."

"And who are you here for, Jason?" Dick asks, propping his chin on his hands.

"None of your beeswax, Dick."

Dick shrugs. Damian begins to talk about an art project in school. You pay the appropriate amount of attention until Jason nudges your arm.

"Hey," he says, nodding at your empty glass. "Didja get something to drink?"

"Oh." Heat creeps up your neck. "Um, no. Sorry. I didn't know where to get the drinks."

"'S okay. Alf doesn't put out drinks anymore 'cause everybody drinks something different. You just help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I'll get it for ya."

"Jason, you don't have to—"

He holds up a hand, smiling. "C'mon, none of that. You're a guest. Orange Fanta, right?"

You blink. "You remembered."

"Uh." His cheeks go pink. "I mean, yeah. No biggie. I'll be back."

Jason stands. Immediately, the others pounce.

"Are you going to the kitchen?" Dick asks.

"No," Jason says.

"Can you get me another Diet Coke?"

"Todd, if you're going to the kitchen, I would like another lemonade, please," Damian says.

"I just said I'm not going to the—"

"Master Jason, will you please bring this into the kitchen?" Alfred asks, holding up an empty tray.

Jason heaves a sigh. You wince.

"Sorry," you whisper.

He shakes his head and winks. "Nah, 's not you."

Obediently, Jason takes the tray and goes to the kitchen. He returns with a Diet Coke, which he tosses at Dick, who catches it with one hand, and a bottle of lemonade, which he throws to Damian who also catches it with one hand and a scowl. Finally, Jason opens the Orange Fanta for you and gently pours it into your glass, then sets the half-full can next to your plate. He sits down.

"Of course they get special treatment," Dick mumbles into his drink.

The table rattles, and Dick winces, squinting at Jason. The table rattles again, and Jason hisses.

"Boys," Bruce says wearily. "Enough."

"Yeah, Jason," Dick says, sticking his nose up. "Y'know it's my birthday soon. I deserve a brother who doesn't kick me."

"Oh, I'll tell ya what you deserve," Jason begins.

"Are we doing laser tag?" Cass pipes up from the end.

"'Course we are! Everybody's gonna be there." Dick looks pointedly at Jason. "Except my own brother. He refused."

You look at Jason, who's got a nasty glower aimed at Dick.

"You're not coming?" you ask.

Jason's expression melts away when he turns to you. "Uh, I mean—"

"No, he's not," Dick says, pulling the saddest pout you've ever seen. "He said he wanted nothing to do with my stupid birthday."

"Those weren't my exact words."

"They were very close," Damian says.

"Shut—"

"Jason, I can't believe you aren't going to Dick's birthday," Barbara says, shaking her head.

Jason's mouth falls open. "Et tu, Barbie?"

"You should come," you say, touching Jason's arm.

He immediately looks at your hand. You slowly remove it, smiling sheepishly.

"Then we can be a team," you say. "We're playing doubles. I'm horrendously bad at laser tag, but I bet we'd win together. I'd watch your six."

"Leaving them in the lurch, Jason?" Barbara tuts. "So unlike you."

Jason heaves a sigh. "For God—okay. Alright, brother mine. You win."

You beam. "So you'll come?"

"'Long as you and I are a team," Jason says, a little shy.

You bump his shoulder with yours. "Of course."

Dick looks at you. "You should join us for dinner every night."

You laugh bashfully. "Thanks, Dick."

Dinner goes on. Bruce excuses himself early, as do Cass and Damian. Soon, it's the four of you plus Alfred cleaning up after dinner. You and Jason are loading the dishwasher when Jason hisses. He pulls out his hand, revealing a thin red cut on his palm.

"Are you okay?" you ask, hovering worriedly.

"Yeah, 'm fine. I'll take the tray—"

"Jason, no," Dick says, herding him away from the dishwasher. "You have to get that wrapped immediately."

"What are you—dude, it's a tiny cut—"

"Yeah, but there was food on there, and you have no idea what can get into the wound and make you sick," Barbara says seriously. "You need to get it cleaned right now."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever. There's a first aid kit in the closet."

"There isn't!" Dick says, shooing Jason toward you. "Alfred hasn't restocked it. You have to go to the Cave. You should both go."

"Yes, great idea," Barbara says, looking at you. "You have medical experience, don't you?"

"I mean, a little, but—"

"More than us!" Dick says, shoving you both towards the hallway.

"I don't think so..."

"You take care of Jaybird here, he needs that hand," Dick says cheerily, opening the Cave entrance. "Go on, go."

"Christ on a bike," Jason mumbles, and heads down the stairs.

You follow, confused and concerned. The entrance slides closed. Jason goes to the medbay, muttering under his breath as he digs through one of the drawers with one hand. You join him, searching the top drawer for the antiseptic spray.

"Is the cut really bad?" you ask, trying to get a better look.

"No. My brother's just an idiot. Nothin' new."

You pull out the spray, some gauze, and a bandaid. Jason nods in thanks and goes to take it.

"I can do it," you say. "I do have medical experience, after all."

He snorts. "Fine by me."

You both sit on the edge of a cot. You turn to Jason and pull his hand into your lap. He inhales sharply. You stop.

"Is this okay?" you ask.

"Y-yeah. Fine. Sorry. I don't get touched a lot." Jason's mouth screws up. "Ugh. That sounded weird."

You laugh. "It's fine, I know what you meant."

He scratches the back of his neck while you clean his hand. He has big hands. Bigger than you remember. They're deeply scarred and calloused. You rub your thumbs over the pads of his fingers without thinking.

"You got soft hands," Jason says quietly.

"Heh. Thanks. The computer life."

He hums. "I didn't know you were working with Babs."

The guilt swims back full force.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should've reached out, Jason. I-I basically ignored you. Not on purpose! I just... I guess I wasn't sure where we stood and I thought maybe you'd be mad I was working for Batman after everything and I was afraid that we wouldn't—"

"Hey, whoa. 'M not mad." Jason finds your gaze. You frown. "I'm serious. I don't mind that you're working for Bruce. I mean, hell, I do too, on occasion. Mostly I just bitch at him."

You giggle. He smiles. You're still holding his hand. You don't really want to let go. Jason doesn't seem to want to pull away either.

"Well, even so, I'm sorry for not reaching out. I did miss you, Jason. And I'm glad you're back."

He clears his throat, ducking his head. "Huh. Well, I missed you too. And y'got nothin' to apologize for. I could've asked about you."

"Well—"

"Uh-uh, no, I'm the king of self-deprication. Y'can't take that from me," Jason says, eyes dancing with mirth.

You sigh dramatically. "Fine, fine. Can we say that we both could've reached out?"

"That's agreeable. And, uh, while we're clearing the air, I'm so terribly sorry 'bout my dumbass brother."

You tilt your head. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, huh. Hm. Well, funny thing. I kinda had a, um, crush on you, before. And Dick has it in his head that I... that I have a chance now. So... yeah."

"Before?" you ask.

You don't know why you're disappointed. It's not like you knew. Except maybe if you had, you wouldn't have missed out. Maybe you wouldn't have lost so much time.

Jason glances at you. "What... why are you sayin' it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you wish... that I..." He shakes his head. "Forget it."

"Jason," you say, barely a whisper.

He looks at you. His eyes flick to your lips, just for a millisecond. "Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

A beat. Your heart falls.

"Yeah." Jason nods. "Yeah, kiss me."

You heart soars.

You hold Jason's face, still holding his hand. He gingerly touches your neck with his uninjured hand, strokes behind your ear with his thumb. Every nerve alights. You're kissing Jason Todd. The boy you've loved since you were thirteen.

"They did it! They're kissing!"

Jason growls against your mouth. You know it's not aimed at you, but it makes lightning shoot down your spine. Wow.

"'M gonna kill 'im," Jason mumbles.

You smile and pull back, just an inch. "It's nearly his birthday. At least wait till next week."

"Hm." Jason kisses the corner of your mouth. You like him so much. "Fine. Y'know you can convince me of pretty much anything? Wield that power carefully."

You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason braces you with a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm very flattered, but I think you're confused, Jay." A kiss to his jaw. "It's you who has a hold on me."

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

[hoshifighting]

jeonghan as a sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, teasing, mommy kink, pussy eating, cock riding, jeonghan begging for some pussy, challenges. — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

jeonghan was always clear about what he wanted—expensive shit, nothing less. “i’m a high-maintenance guy, y/n,” he’d say with that devilish grin, leaning back in his chair, fingers casually drumming on the table. he expected you to play the game, shower him with designer bags, watches, whatever fit the bill of his extravagant taste. but you? you had other plans.

the day you pulled up outside his place in a brand new taycan porsche, you watched as he froze, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with disbelief. “holy shit,” he muttered under his breath, feet glued to the sidewalk as he stared at the car like it was a goddamn spaceship. you couldn’t help but smirk, loving the way you’d just turned the tables. he thought he could predict you, but you kept him on his toes, and the more he tried to one-up you, the more outrageous the gifts became.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, half to himself. “a porsche? for me?”

“you said you liked nice things,” you shrugged, trying to play it off, but inside, you were loving every second of his disbelief.

each time you saw that flicker of surprise in his eyes, it was like a victory. you loved spoiling him, watching him get lost in the luxury you provided, but it wasn’t just about the money. it was about showing him that you were serious, that you weren’t just some sugar mama playing a game.

months passed, and with each lavish gift, each luxurious spa treatment, every custom-tailored suit, he slowly realized you weren’t just playing around. you could—and would—spoil him until he was drowning in everything he ever wanted. and maybe it was that realization that shifted something in him.

“y/n,” he’d say, that velvety tone wrapping around your name like a caress. he was sweeter, more affectionate, like he was trying to show his gratitude in the only way he knew how. but you noticed something else, too—he wanted more.

all those expensive dinners, all those nights you’d spent together, and yet there was one thing he hadn’t had yet. you.

jeonghan wasn’t shy about it, either. the more time you spent together, the bolder he became. he’d touch your thigh under the table, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered things that made your pulse race. “when are you gonna let me have you, hmm?” he’d ask, voice low and teasing, but you always made him wait, loving the way it drove him crazy.

you’d just arrived at the hotel, exhausted after a long day, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. “i can’t wait anymore,” he whined, his voice low and needy as he pressed himself against you in the elevator. “please, i need to taste you, feel you.”

“not here,” you hissed, trying to keep some semblance of composure as the elevator dinged, doors opening to your floor.

but by the time you made it to the room, you could see it in his eyes—he was on the edge. he pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind him, his hands already working to strip you out of your clothes. “let me have you,” he whispered, his breath hot against your neck, his voice dripping with desperation.

when he finally got you on the bed, he didn’t waste a second, sliding into you with a teasing slowness that made you curse under your breath. “mommy,” he murmured, that devilish grin on his lips as he pulled back just enough to make you want to scream. “you’ve spoiled me rotten… let me spoil you.”

but you weren’t about to let him have all the control. you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper, making him gasp as you took back what you’d been holding out on. “you want to tease me, baby?” you whispered against his ear, your voice low and dangerous. “think you can handle it?”

he tried, he really did. but the moment you started riding him, all that bravado melted away, replaced with breathless moans and frantic gasps as he bucked beneath you, his hands gripping your hips like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“you’ve been such a good boy, han,” you purred, leaning forward to nip at his ear, loving the way his body responded to your touch. “so fucking spoiled, but you’ve been patient, haven’t you?”

“y-yeah,” he stammered, his hands moving to your waist, trying to pull you down harder, faster. but you kept it slow, teasing him, making him work for it.

when you finally start riding him with a ferocity that had the bed creaking under the strain, he was a mess of moans and curses, his hands everywhere, trying to touch you, to keep you close.

and then there were the moments when you’d switch things up, when he’d be on his knees, head buried between your thighs, his tongue working you over like he was starving, like tasting you was the only thing that mattered. you’d grab his hair, pulling him closer, making sure he couldn’t escape, not that he wanted to.

but the night wasn’t over until you had him on his back, his arms pinned above his head, your nails leaving little red trails down his chest as you rode him again, harder this time, making him lose his fucking mind.

“fuck, mommy,” he’d moan, voice wrecked, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with need. “please… i can’t… i need to…”

but you weren’t done with him, not until you were both completely spent, tangled together in a mess of sweat and sheets, the city lights of tokyo blinking softly outside the window as you finally let him collapse against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“still think i’m playing?” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath as you kissed the top of his head.

[keferon]

Love the thought of little tiny human Roddy just disappears for a bit then comes back one day and everyone is like "hey, wait where were you- What is that." upon seeing the LL follow (even to the other cybertronians that's be a shock bc teeny tiny human man having a titan with him??? What did this guy do????)

Also Lost Light is a lot bigger than I expected, that's a certified Big One

Okay okAY OKAY JUST IMAGINE

For whatever reason Roddy gets sent/taken to the Quintesson space station/base. Maybe Quintessons try to take him hostage or maybe he’s on a stealth mission idk. The point is, he’s playing Among us in real life and crawling around in their vents because he needs to break free. But to do that he needs to turn their security mechanisms off. And since he doesn’t know how to operate Quintesson computers he decides he just needs to break their power source and it will make all their systems just go bonkers right?

But instead of some kind of reactor or generator he finds out that power lines are hooked up to a spaceship. And that spaceship doesn’t look Quintesson even in the slightest ‘,:)

[gallusrostromegalus]

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

[neolxzr]

OK so heres some of my favorite things that were talked about during the enter the florpus commentary thing yesterday:

one of jhonen's favorite things in the whole movie is the writing in zim's kitchen that says "do anything is real?"

they clarified specifically that gir was not lying and he did in fact eat a baby at the crazy taco

gir smells REALLY bad. theres like rotting organic matter in his body at all times. he stinks

zim's human suit is made out of actual human skin

zim is acting drunk on nacho cheese during that scene in his house because richard horvitz recorded it while drunk

they planned to have this whole thing with tak's ship only agreeing to go to moo-ping 10 because it knows tak is there. they wouldve shown her in silhouette during that brief explosion and she wouldve stowed away on the ship without anyone knowing and then wouldve shown up towards the end of the movie, but they decided to cut it out

zim did not need to frame membrane for a crime in order to get him into space prison and likely just tossed the guards like 5 bucks for it. its a shady place. they did specify though that if he did frame him for something, it would have been jaywalking

they pointed out during that scene where zim is celebrating peace day on dib's lawn that zim's reaction to seeing dib was very much genuine and that's just how his brain works. he is genuinely surprised to see him pop out of his own house. (they also described his reaction as like "being surprised to see your best friend")

the ham joke was ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to the film and at some point jhonen remembered it and was like GUYS. WE ALMOST FORGOT THE HAM

there was supposed to be this joke where it cuts to and from gaz and dib in tak's ship and they would've had to stop at like a warp station or something and theyd be waiting in a long queue of spaceships and the radio is broken in the ship so theyre stuck listening to that one song. then itd cut to them like totally braindead drooling from listening to it for so long. and then a little later itd cut back a FINAL time and theyd know all of the words and both be singing along to it. but this was also cut out so only the last bit remained

when asked "who would win: minimoose or mrs. bitters?" the answer was along the lines of "neither, i think all of us lose in that scenario"

the tallest are just two dudes who happen to be the same height and therefore have to share the same job. they are not brothers and they are also not gay lovers ("as much as you want them to be, they are not. there is no love in this universe")

skooge is in fact alive and lives in zim's basement. they wanted to keep the number of "hey remember this thing from the tv show!" moments to a minimum so he was not mentioned in the movie. but he is there

[sweetiesicheng]

dokyeom - tattoo

word count : 848

-

"dad!"

dokyeom looks up and sees you and your son walking into the room. all of the guys are getting photos done for the company, so there is equipment everywhere in the practice room that has turned into a photo shoot set.

"you guys got here quick," dokyeom says to you as your son runs up to him and gives him a hug. "have a good day with mom?"

"yea! we went to to the science museum and then to the art store," your son says as you walk over to him and dokyeom.

"art store?" dokyeom questions.

"he saw my tattoos," you mention and ruffle your son's hair, "and somebody wants to create a tattoo for me."

"ah, so we have a budding artist in our household now," dokyeom says with a big smile. he looks at you, "you're seriously gonna tattoo whatever he makes?" he asks you, clearly skeptical.

"within my own discretion," you answer your husband. "hey, baby? go say hi to everyone," you instruct your son. he runs off to say hi to his uncles and the other staff members he knows in the room. "i told him about tattoos being permanent, and that some people even regret them in the future. but i also told him that i'll love whatever he creates, whether it's on paper or my skin."

"aw, that's cute," dokyeom says to you. "do you two want to stay? i'm practicing with some of the guys in another room after we're done."

"will it be long? i need to pick up groceries," you mention.

"just for an hour. i can go shopping with you two," he replies.

"dad! uncle says he'll buy me a spaceship!" your son shouts from across the room, sitting with s.coups and jeonghan.

"hey hyung..." dokyeom sighs, "i'm the one supposed to be spoiling him."

—

once you go home for the day, dokyeom helps you in the kitchen while your son draws in his new sketchbook.

"hey mom," your son calls out to you.

"yes, baby?" you reply as you cook food.

"i drew a bunch of stuff! can you look at them when you're done cooking?" he asks.

you look over your shoulder with a smile, "after dinner, alright?"

"okay!"

"bud, clear the table. we need space to eat," dokyeom says to your son.

"yes, dad." your son starts clearing the table of his new art supplies. dokyeom takes some side dishes out of the fridge and sets the table as you finish cooking dinner.

"babe, you should look at these," dokyeom says to you.

"hm?" you look over your shoulder for a second to see dokyeom looking at your son's art that was left on the table. "bring it over here," you say, not wanting to step away from the stove.

dokyeom walks over and shows you a page full of doodles that your son created. different colors next to each other, lines of various shapes.

"oh, these are so cute," you compliment your son's art.

"right?" dokyeom replies.

"hey! my book!" your son suddenly shouts. you look and see him in one of the entranceways. "you can't see it yet! i need to draw more!"

"sorry, baby. your dad just really wanted to look," you say to him, slightly blaming your husband in the process.

"dad!" your son whines with a pout.

"sorry for taking it, bud," dokyeom says and hands the sketchbook back to your son. "you're just super cool, so we wanted to look it already," he says to him as your son hugs the sketchbook in his arms.

"you think i'm cool?" your son asks, making you smile.

"the coolest," you say to him.

once you're done cooking, all of you eat together at the table. your son recounts your day together again for his dad while dokyeom mentions his upcoming schedules.

"hey, babe," dokyeom calls to you. you him in response to let him know you're listening, "what if we got matching tattoos with his doodles?" he asks you.

"you want to?" you reply.

"yea. wouldn't it be cute to have matching onces?" dokyeom replies to you.

"mom, dad, can i get a tattoo?" your son speaks after putting his water cup down.

"ask your mom," dokyeom says to him.

"seokmin!" you yell your husband's name. "you know he can't get one at this age," you say to him while dokyeom tries to make you look like a bad guy. you see your son start to get sad. "baby, you can't get one until you're a lot older," you say to your son, "and your dad is trying to make me look like a bad guy."

your son gasps, looking at his father, "mom isn't a bad person! dad, you're being mean to mom!"

"i'm joking! i swear!" dokyeom says to both of you. "i'll make it up to you and get twenty tattoos that were created by you," he says to your son.

"no! you're not allowed to get them either! you're being mean to mom!"

"ah! i swear i was joking! babe!"

"you did this to yourself."

[beelinx]

hi!! could you do leo dating an ares kid? 🫶🏻

leo valdez dating a child of ares hcs

a/n: i hope this is okay anon 😖 i actually had lots of fun with this it’s a rlly cute dynamic

First impression: Scared.

Honestly it’s not his fault, you and your siblings are usually so intimidating.

Even more so when a capture the flag game is going on.

You guys were on opposite teams, and happened to bump into each other at one point during the game.

You almost ripped his throat out and he almost burned your hair.

Love at first sight <3

Well, it might not have been the best first impression, but it somehow still wasn’t long before he fell for you.

He started seeing you around camp more and more, and after a while you even started to have casual conversations, too.

He got more comfortable with you as time went on, and started to see a side of you he really liked !

He noticed you were actually kind, you cared a lot about people around you, and you were actually really funny.

Also you’re smoking hot.

Win win!

Once you’re actually dating you would be an insane power couple.

With Leo’s smarts and fire power, and your insane battle, and multiple other, skills, you two could easily defeat *almost* anyone.

But going back to Ares kids being scary: He basically shits his pants when he first meets your siblings.

Well, he actually already knew most of them beforehand – he’d seen some of them around camp, and he has even made weapons for some of them.

Still though, they had zero mercy telling him exactly what they’d do to him if he dared to treat you badly.

Okay well now he’s scared again.

Whoever you don’t like, he doesn’t like either.

Do you hate that girl from the Demeter cabin? He hates her too.

That Hermes boy keeps bothering you? Yeah, he sucks and should drop dead immediately.

Okay, he might think you get a little bit too carried away with the death wishes, but he supports you and all your… strong feelings.

Also – if you have a rough relationship with your father, you best bet he now has beef with him, too.

Silently, though. He’s much too terrified of Ares to trash talk him publicly.

Leo easily thinks you’re just about one of the coolest people ever.

He swears up and down that whenever he sees you fight, he falls in love all over again.

You leave him awestruck tbh.

If you have a short temper, he would try his best to be patient with you, even if it’s sometimes hard for him, too.

He knows you can’t control it that well, therefore he tries to help you out a lot.

By treating you kindly, listening to you patiently, and also not pissing you off.

You obviously try your best for him, too.

In the end, you’re both really sweet and considerate to each other <3

He’d make anything you ask for !!

If you ever want any weapon of sorts then trust he has it covered, and then some.

He’d add little quirks that make them cooler, like rigging them with special effects.

Ask him for anything else, be it a random cup of coffee or a full-blown spaceship, and he’d try his best to do it for you.

Making you happy is what he loves most so he’d move whatever you want to the top of his priority list.

Seeing your happy face makes it all worth it <3

Of course, though, you smack his head when you realize he lost sleep just to complete this project for you.

Okay, well, he may not be able to work in his workshop at night without you watching over him like a hawk anymore, but you still squeezed hugged and kissed him when he first showed the final product to you, so…

He’s taking it as a win!

Also because he now has you spending even more time with him, and in his favorite place, too.

He really can’t stop winning, huh?

[marleyybluu]

Wherever

Fezco x f!reader

WC: 1.8k

Warnings: Smut, no plot just a quick fuck, semi-public sex (staircase sex but nobody actually walks in on them), unprotected p in v, issa quickie, drunk sex, bigdick!Fez lmao I feel like he at least got girth to him yk?, the word cock was used once whoops sorry

(gif not mine. but just look at how yummy he is here. mhmmm)

The two had gone out for their anniversary. Their friends threw them a little surprise dinner at the restaurant they went to on their first date. They'd knocked out four years of marriage and were happy to celebrate the rest of the years to come. It was a fun little gathering of their loved ones surrounding them and reminiscing on old times, how shy they were when they first met and how cute it was to see how quickly they fell for each other. 

It was a great night with great food and a few drinks. Maybe more than a few. They didn't drink much they mostly smoked but for tonight's occasion, they switched over. Both were pretty lightweight and found themselves stumbling and giggling with each other, though it made great entertainment for their friends and family. 

The party ran late and a few left to return to their own homes but not without congratulating the two on their four years together. By 2 AM it was just Fez, his girl and their two friends Rue and Jules and all four called it a night. Rue and Jules offered to drive the couple back to their apartment considering they were sober enough to drive back. They accepted and sat in the backseat of the car, her head resting on his shoulder as her mind swayed. She was so gone she felt like was in a spaceship zooming through the stars and the planets. 

She loved the ride home after a drunken night, it was so quiet and calming especially with the window down. Fez's head tipped back against the headrest, whispering to himself that he'd never drink again. His hand rubbed small circles on his girl's lower back, his fingers following the curve of her behind when he dropped his hand further he gently squeezed and smiled lazily. He was so lucky to have her.

After what felt like a short ride they were finally in front of the apartment building. "Sure you guys don't want us to come with you?" 

Fez scoffed. "Nah, we're good, text us when you get home." The girls wanted to protest about his slurred sentence and wobbly stance but bit their tongues, they'd at least wait until they got inside the building. They said their goodbyes and waited for them to tap their keycard to get past the second door which they successfully did. Fez and his girl stumbled over to the elevator, pressing the button to go up numerous times but none of the doors would open. Fez squinted once he noticed a piece of paper on the silver door. 

Out of Order.

Well, that was just great. "We gotta take the stairs, baby." He giggled. She groaned and trudged to the door leading to the staircase, silently thankful they lived on the fifth floor but it was still a lot of stairs and she was wearing heels. She held onto the railing for balance and walked up the first step with Fez not too far behind. 

They climbed up as fast as they could to the second floor, she stopped and rolled her eyes, this was not an ideal situation to be intoxicated. Fez, however, seemed to be entertained. Her dress was riding up with every step, no matter how many times she pulled it down it slid back up and at some point almost bunched around her hips, exposing her supple skin under the material. He wanted to bite her, he was quickly growing hard in his pants, temptation in front of him and he was ready to give in. 

He reached out, fingers gently brushing her skin. She turned around and smiled. "Can I help you?" 

"You have no idea." He replied lustfully glaring at her through low-drunken eyelids, his eyes no longer blue due to his dilated pupils. Her eyes widened at him and she turned facing forward to hide her blush. It did make her put an extra sway in her hips. 

Third floor. 

Two more flights of stairs and they'd be home, and he'd have her all to himself, naked and whimpering... moaning... crying for him. "Let's take a break."

She stopped on the platform where the entry to the third floor was. "Tired already?" She joked, she needed a bit of a break herself because these heels were killing her. She rested herself bent over the rail, the bottom of her dress rising once again, her little black panties on display for him. 

She could feel his attentive gaze on her. She pushed back for him, he walked closer to her his calloused hands reaching out for her smooth and soft skin, his fingers coming in contact with her hip squeezing them hard enough to leave little prints. She hissed looking back at him. "Come on, just a little quick one." She whimpered saying aloud what they were both thinking. He smirked dragging his finger along the line of her panty following the trail down to her wet heat. 

He looked up at her through his bushy, but well-trimmed eyebrows. Keeping contact while he moved the material to the side. She swallowed a moan feeling the cool air hitting her clit causing her to clench around nothing. "Always so fucking pretty," He muttered taking his thumb and guiding it between her folds collecting her slick. "And wet, for me." 

"Fez..." Her voice warned. "I don't care if anyone sees us." He admitted with a shrug. She pushed back against him once more feeling the tip of his thumb tease her hole, he angled his thumb and gently thrust it inside her. She softly gasped moving her hair to the side to get a good look at him, so focused on her pretty pussy leaking out for him and he'd barely done anything. 

He used his free hand to undo his belt, the thud of everything falling onto the floor echoed off the empty walls. She moaned at the sight, how hard he was, so stiff the tip of his dick had gone from pink to almost red-- sticky with his own arousal. Her mouth watered, tongue begging to be wrapped around him but they'd get to that once they got home. He removed his thumb sticking it in his mouth for a little taste of her, he hummed in satisfaction. She whined internally begging him to hurry up, he delivered a harsh slap to her ass which earned a squeal from her desperate lips. 

"You keep doing that imma put it away." 

"Sorry." She mumbled tugging on her bottom lip. He chuckled at how quickly she retreated, he positioned himself at her entrance, running his aching tip through her juicy folds, he finally found his way inside-- slowly sliding into her warm and welcoming cunt. She placed her hand over her mouth to squash the upcoming erotic sounds she wanted to make, he stretched her out completely, his faint veins coinciding with her soft walls. Fuck.

Fez pushed the dress up further so it was resting in the middle of her back, he looked down at the tattoo she had recently got done and groaned, one of his favourite things to look at was the artwork displayed on her beautiful body. He could feel her clenching around him already, she always came a lot quicker when she was out of her mind. He buried himself deep inside her earning an audible moan. 

He pulled out and pressed back in. "Ooohh, fuck!" She broke. "That's it. Let everyone hear you, ma." He held on to her hips giving her some deep strokes, she gripped the railing looking down on the first floor in hopes no one would come upstairs. Fez grunted, she was coating him in her creamy goodness, her gummy walls enveloping him in pleasure. His tip repeatedly bumped against a certain spot within her and her body responded positively. 

The sounds of skin-to-skin contact, the slapping and pornographic moans from both parties echoed through the staircase and probably made their way through the walls. But who cares, she was getting dicked down, her arousal dripping down her inner thigh. Her whimpers caress his ears as an encouragement to keep his rhythm. 

"Fuck, fuck, yes Fez! Give me that dick." She egged on feeling her climax getting closer, she moved her left leg onto one step allowing him further access, his heavy balls slapping against her clit was an additional sensation her body couldn't take. Her eyes rolled back as he continued his assault on her, penetrating her every need. 

Fez growled as his hips picked up their pace, snapping into hers in a desperate need to meet his end. "I can feel it, baby, come for me." She playfully giggled stealing his usual line. He pounded into her, reaching under her to toy with her clit. "You cum first, pretty girl." He retaliated, her body shivered, a tingling feeling creeping up in her toes and fingers. Her mouth was agape as her back arched, he leaned forward pressing his chest against her. "Yeah? Yeah, I fuckin' see you, baby. Don't worry." 

"Oh my god! Fez! Fuck... me-" Her body stilled, her eyes squeezed shut while her orgasm took over her body, constant convulsion around his dick pulled him closer to the edge. "Ah, shit." He croaked before succumbing to his own pleasure, squirting his hot cream inside her. They panted slowly letting go of each other. He chuckled pressing a kiss against her neck and another behind her ear. "You good?" 

"Fuck... yes." She sighed in satisfaction. Fez carefully pulled out and looked at the door to see if anyone was standing there watching but they were good. He quickly stuffed his half-hard cock in his pants and re-buckled his belt. He watched as she fixed herself too, pulling back down her dress and turning to him with a pout. "What?" He asked. She looked down at her feet and back up at him. He smiled shaking his head. "Fine." He took off his shoes sliding them over to her, she stepped out of her heels and into his big-ass dress shoes that she bought him. He held her heels in his hand and pressed a kiss on top of her head. "You ready to go?" 

She nodded looking up at him but her eyes widened when she saw past him, there was a camera... a little security camera in the corner above the door. "Oh.. shit." He said seeing it too. "Well, I mean it already happened." She laughed. There wasn't anything they could do about it, at least someone got a free show. 

"Hm, glad to know that after four years you're still down to do it anywhere." He chuckled heading up the stairs. 

She smirked. "We might need another break on the fourth floor." 

"Baby..." 

"Fiiiiine, we'll wait until we get home." 

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic comments and reblogs are appreciated peace and love see you in the next one🤙🏾

🏷 @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb

tagging who might be interested: @bigenergy777

[dexteri0us]

you could be the one that could mess me up; you could be the one that'll break me down

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: fluff, college!au, summer camp!au, rivalry

summary: what’s tougher: coaching science-crazed kids or competing with Dexter for the camp championship?

w/c: like 3k

a/n: a little something for my fellow Dexter fans

The sun was beating down on the field, and you were already starting to regret not grabbing your water bottle. Your team of elementary schoolers was bouncing around you like they’d been given espresso shots instead of juice boxes, their energy sky-high for the last day of camp. And who could blame them? Today was the big showdown – the ultimate battle between Team A and Team B. Your team, obviously, was Team A which, you reminded them every chance you got, was the first letter of the alphabet for a reason.

You scanned the field, making sure everyone had their places, when you saw a stray kickball, sitting just past the starting line. You sighed. As much as you loved your kids, “picking up after themselves” was an elusive skill for most of them. You told them to hold tight for a second and jogged over to retrieve it.

Just as you were about to grab the ball, you saw Dexter walking up beside you, giving you that unreadable look, as usual. You smirked before he even had a chance to speak.

“Well, if it isn’t the illustrious Team B leader himself,” you said, bending down to pick up the ball. “Here to observe greatness in action?” you asked with a proud smile on your face.

Dexter didn’t miss a beat, casually handing you a bottle of water and raising an eyebrow. “Greatness? I think you’re setting them up for disappointment.”

“Oh, really?” you grinned, turning to face him as you spun the ball between your pointer fingers before resting it on your hip and taking the water. “Coming from the guy whose team spent ten minutes building an egg drop contraption that looked like a rejected spaceship model?”

Dexter’s face didn’t change, but you could see the spark of amusement in his eyes. He took the smallest step forward, as if to intimidate you. “That ‘rejected spaceship model’ actually worked, if you remember correctly,” he replied smoothly. “Unlike some teams’ eggs, which ended up looking like scrambled breakfast.”

He was right, of course. His egg drop design looked like it had come from an old sci-fi movie, a quirky contraption with beams, paddings, and an absurd amount of plastic wrap. You had no idea where he got all that, either way, it worked.

It wasn’t even surprising; Dexter had always taken unexpected routes to solve problems. His mind just worked differently. You knew he had a wild imagination; you could tell when he’d shown you some of his high school lab projects, each one stranger and more intricate than the last, and always with that unmistakable Dexter touch that landed him at the top of the class every time. Even now in college, he was still securing the highest grades, beating out students who had twice the resources and flashy internships.

Honestly, Dexter was probably the smartest person you knew, and being able to go toe-to-toe with him here at camp wasn’t just a thrill – it was an honor.

It was part of what made this science camp so special. It wasn’t just some neighborhood summer program; it was hosted by your college’s STEM department, high-level experience for kids that were intrigued by the world of science. Or even those who were just curious about the basic laws of nature ruling our world. The camp was selective about who it chose to lead, and the program heads always made sure to match top students with the best opportunities.

You knew Dexter had signed up for the challenge partly because he’d mentioned wanting to “quit an old habit” and keep himself busy during summer. He hadn’t told you much beyond that – just something vague about needing to break a pattern, occupy his time in a way that felt constructive. This camp, with its structure, routine and purpose was a way for him to do that.

And then, there was the way he was around kids. Despite his reserved nature, he seemed at ease with them, almost unguarded. Dexter seemed different, and only a few people got to experience this side of him. He once joked to you that kids’ brains were underdeveloped enough that he didn’t have to fake emotions or second-guess his reactions around them.

But right now, there was a different Dexter in front of you – not a soft Dexter, not a reserved Dexter. There was a smirking, overly confident camp leader Dexter who thought he could take you down. You hated that he felt comfortable enough to be this cocky towards you. So no, you weren’t about to let your admiration show. You'd have enough time to let yourself sneak a few appreciative glances at him when he wasn’t looking, but right here, with the competition about to continue? You weren’t going to let him talk you down.

You stepped closer too, having to crane your neck a little to keep eye contact. “Don’t worry. My team and I have an actual strategy. Not just a bunch of science facts thrown together like a five-paragraph essay.”

He snorted, his eyebrows rising. “It’s a science camp. Facts are kind of the point. Your strategy is taking the name Team A and thinking that it will actually secure you the first place.”

You scoffed and turned around, walking towards your team and Dexter was quick to follow you.

 “First letter, first place. It’s called manifestation. It’s like destiny. We’re literally setting ourselves up for success from the start.”

He shook his head with a little laugh. “You realize it’s just a letter, right? It doesn’t have, like, mystical powers or anything.”

You couldn’t help but cackle, his words making you stop again and some of the smaller heads turn in your direction, silently watching the respected leaders of the science camp bicker. He was unbelievable.

“Please, you’re just pissed that I called it first.”

Despite Dexter being stoic and unpopular among his peers, he was good with kids, and you were aware of that. He was a lab geek to everyone, even his fellow students who majored in science too -- everyone was supposed to be a lab geek! - But most didn’t know that he was actually very creative. You knew that and this was just bitterness talking.

“It’s the first thing people see, the first letter people think of. It exudes victory. Doesn’t Team B just sound… second-rate by comparison?”

He gave you a deadpan look, which only made you want to argue for your team more.

“Team B,” he said, with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression, “actually stands for best. Maybe even better. I wouldn’t be so quick to assume we’re coming in second.”

You shook your head and bit your cheek, contemplating your next words. You brought the ball that was on your hip to his chest, slightly pushing him with it, but he didn’t budge. He just took it as he waited for your next remark.

“My Team A kids are about to wipe the floor with your Team Better.”

He chuckled and threw the ball into the air before catching it. “We’ll see about that,” he said, eyes glinting with that calm confidence that always got under your skin.

You turned to your group again, arms stretched for emphasis. “See? He’s already trying to play mind games because he knows Team A is unstoppable!”

The kids cheered, and you looked back at Dexter, who was fighting a grin.

“Careful,” he said, “I’d hate to see you go down after all that talk.”

You leaned closer, and you saw his eyelids flutter, finally a sign of weakness.

“And I’d hate to see you hand over those first-place prizes with that smug look wiped off your face.”

You found yourselves in a silent, smirking standoff. His lips curved ever so slightly, daring you to say something more. The corners of your mouth tugged upward in response. You weren't backing down, and neither was he, testing each other, seeing who would blink first. You let your eyes drop just briefly, enough to catch the flutter of his lashes, but a voice from behind cut through the haze, breaking the moment like a splash of cold water.

“You’re going down, Mr. Dexter!”

You both turned toward your team, seeing one of the more spirited girls in your group, Sarah, giving Dexter a withering stare.

You crossed your arms, looking at Dexter. “See? You’ve gotta inspire these kids, Dexter. Get them excited! Pumped!” you slapped his triceps as if to emphasize your point, and he side-eyed you. “No wonder Team B’s lagging behind,” you switched your expression to an exaggerated pity, sighing and shaking your head.

“Alright,” he murmured, your trash talking finally getting to him. “I gotta go. I have to tell my team about Team A’s lack of structural integrity and how we’re going to crush them in the obstacle course.”

You gave him a taunting smile, before he walked away.

“And thanks for the water!” you lifted the bottle in the air and he turned, nodding at you with a genuine smile. Before he headed to his kids, he made a stop where your team was hanging. Despite him being the leader of the opposing team, instead of being intimidated or intimidating, the kids smiled at him, some of them running up to him and showing him a bug they just found in the grass.

You watched him stop right in front of Sarah, crouching down to her eye level with an inquisitive look. “Did I just hear you say I’m going down?”

She shifted her feet, but held her ground, her cheeks red. Kind of like you when you first met him. “Well…yeah!” she crossed her arms, mustering her bravest face. Honestly, you couldn’t be prouder. “We’re Team A, so we’re winning this competition – duh! Plus, we have Ms. YN, and you don’t!”

“Point taken, Sarah,” he said with a chuckle. “I think you’re ready to start a motivational business someday.” The kids giggled, including Sarah who had a proud smile on her face. Dexter raised his eyebrows expectantly, offering his hand to Sarah. “May the best team win, then.”

She shook his hand and with one last look to you, he left. You made your way to your team and gave Sarah and some other kids high-five.

“Did you see his face, Ms. YN? He knows we’re gonna win!”

You laughed, nodding. “Oh, he definitely knows. Let’s make sure he remembers it.”

You sat in your chair and watched your kids, dressed in their teams’ tie-dyed orange t-shirts as some of them were clutching their juice boxes trying the slurp up the last drop, some were still playing with their DIY space shuttles from the NASA day, and some were playing tag or patty cake with each other.

It had been a great few weeks and you couldn't believe the camp was almost over. It was always hard for you to say goodbye. Some of the kids came back every year and you were happy to see their faces. Of course, there is a few bad eggs, but the overall experience was always amazing. And even though it might have not seemed that way, you enjoyed sharing that experience with Dexter, who was one of the smartest people you knew.

You turned around, looking in the direction of his team, watching him sitting on the ground, stealing Franklin’s hat, exposing the boy’s ruffled hair as Dexter put it on his own head, the hat obviously too small for him. Franklin tried to get it back, reaching for it, but Dexter quickly snatched it away and held it out of his reach, making the boy crawl over him as he laughed hysterically.

Your heart fluttered at the sight, but you shook it off, turning back to your team and making a regular head count.

The rest of the afternoon flew by as the competition heated up. Your team was cheering like maniacs after each round, pumping each other up with a team spirit that only a summer camp could create.

Next up was a chemistry challenge, where each team had to mix different chemicals to create a specific color in their beakers. Your team surged ahead, mixing the combination quickly, while Dexter’s team carefully measured out each drop.

“Come on, Team A! Don’t let Team B show us up!” you encouraged, but your team’s rush and Dexter’s team’s focus worked in his favor, adding a few point to his part of the scoreboard.

As the afternoon wore on, the two groups moved from one challenge to the next, each victory and loss met with cheers and groans. Finally, the last event arrived: the biology obstacle course. The campers were buzzing with excitement, and you could barely contain your grin as you glanced across the field at Dexter. The score was pretty much tied, and it all came down to this.

“Alright, A’s,” you said, crouching down to your group’s level. “This is it. Remember to have fun, and let’s give it everything we’ve got.”

The obstacle course was a test of agility and knowledge. Each camper had to climb through a “jungle” of hanging ropes, identify plastic animal replicas hidden among the trees, and finish by sprinting to the finish line with a “baby bird” (a rubber ball) in a spoon.

Your team went first, charging through the course with surprising speed. Dexter was impressed but kept his expression neutral. His campers were determined to outdo them, each one putting in their best effort as they charged through the course, cheered on by Dexter’s calm, steady encouragement.

When the final camper crossed the finish line, you and Dexter called your teams together to tally up the points. The competition had been so close that neither group was sure who had won.

“Alright,” Dexter said, reading off the scorecard. “And the winner is…” he paused, dramatically prolonging the suspense, while you shot him an exaggerated look of impatience.

“Team A!” he announced, unable to keep from smiling as your team erupted in cheers. He felt bad for his team, but a flicker of pride rose in his chest as he watched you celebrate with your kids, hugging a few of the campers. You shot Dexter a smug, triumphant look, mouthing “I told you so.”

The losing team received consolation prizes – a handful of science-themed chocolate bars and some novelty key chains shaped like tiny beakers and DNA strands. The kids took it all in stride, laughing and goofing off as they filed back to their cabins, waving at you and Dexter as they disappeared down the paths.

You and Dexter began gathering up the supplies left over from the relay race. Every so often, you’d bump shoulders or catch each other’s eyes and share a smile.

As the last of the campers drifted out of view, you took a long breath, letting it out slowly as the day’s exhaustion sank into your muscles. You stretched your arms overhead, feeling that familiar soreness, and smiled as you glanced over at him.

“Guess that makes me the science camp champion, huh?”

Dexter chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “For this year, maybe. Next year, though, don’t get too comfortable.”

You laughed, feeling a spark of joy as you realized, yes, you would look forward to next year – another summer with him, another chance to see this side of him. You were alone by now, perched on the steps of the main cabin where the camp leaders, cooks, and cleaners stayed during camp sessions. You leaned back, savoring the quiet, the fading light of the day casting a soft glow over the campgrounds.

Dexter sat down beside you, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed out at the now-quiet field, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. After a moment, you scooted closer, letting your chin dig into his shoulder. Gently, you threaded your arm through his, reaching for his hand and giving it a small squeeze. He looked down, his expression softening as he turned to you, and suddenly you were so close your noses were almost touching, the fading sunlight casting shadows over his features and catching on the ginger stubble along his jawline.

“Same time, same place?” you murmured, your voice low and quiet.

Dexter didn’t answer – not with words, anyway. Instead, he lifted a hand to brush away the baby hair from your forehead before closing the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

You always made his heart beat so fast, he didn’t know how it hadn't burst already. You were one of two things that made him feel this way and it was a perfect balance of light and darkness.

His stubble scratched lightly against your skin, a slight irritation that you secretly loved. It made you smile against his lips, feeling a familiar thrill rush through you.

You remember teasing him about it early on in your relationship, only for him to take it too literally and show up the next day, clean-shaven. You’d laughed, explaining that it was just a joke, and that you loved his rough edges. It made you love him more, it was just so Dexter.

Since then, he’d kept his natural look, but sometimes, you’d see that flicker of hesitation, trying to understand the meaning behind your words and actions. It reminded you how hard he tried to learn the language of affection, your love language, and you tried to learn and understand his. It put you into perfect synchrony.

He leaned into the kiss with more force before pulling away and letting his forehead rest against yours, noses brushing as he lingered there, his hand still holding yours as you drew circles on his skin with your thumb.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, his usual calm and stoic replaced by a rare warmth as he looked at you.

You smiled and kissed his shoulder before resting your head against it, letting your eyes close for just a moment.

“It’s so quiet.” you sighed, enjoying the peaceful moment. That’s something you'd missed. Even though you loved the camp, you weren't really a fan of chaos, and this? Having the moment to breathe in the warm scent of pine trees, to hear the birds singing and crickets chirping and to be in Dexter’s embrace is like a reward.

“Funny you’d say that, considering how much noise you make.” He glanced down at you, raising his eyebrows. “Half the chaos around here has been you cheering your team to victory.”

You scoffed, too tired to put up a fight this time. “I’m just an enthusiastic leader.”

“Oh, I know,” he said, a hint of smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re definitely enthusiastic. I’m pretty sure you broke the sound barrier.”

You poked him in the ribs, and he genuinely laughed. A sound that you appreciated greatly, because you were one of the few people that got to hear it. As his laughter faded, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly to the crown of your head.

You watched the sun dip lower, your heart full as you let yourself drift into the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing.

a/n2: thanks for making it this far! soo, what do we think? i'll appreciate any kind of feedback! also, i'd love to explore this relationship more, so maybe we'll see these two again!

[lachencha]

Dreaming of You: Mouthwashing Anya x Reader

erm…this is like my first time posting on Tumblr in a while…hope you guys like it >.<

no warnings, if there’s a warning i should add, please let me know >.<

i also posted this on ao3

please enjoy!

Late at night when all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you.

It's a cool autumn night, the wind outside whistling through the trees, accompanied by the leaves dancing through the air. Usually, you'd be excited about fall, it's your favorite season of the year, no more heatwaves, no more swarms of bugs, and you love watching the orange leaves drifting gracefully on the ground. But how can you enjoy the fall when your girlfriend is away? You've grown so accustomed to spending your evenings cuddled up on the couch, sipping hot chocolate while watching the reality shows Anya insists on watching. So used to snuggle up to Anya, her warmth helping you bear through the chilly nights. So used to dozing off in minutes, your eyelids growing heavier with each gentle strokes of her fingers on your hair. But now, without her, you find falling asleep a lot harder, a lot lonelier, and you find yourself trapped with your own gloom.

And I wish on a star, that somewhere you are, thinking of me too.

You gaze out your window, and look up at the sky. It's not easy to see the stars with the city lights, but some manage to shine through. You wonder which one Anya is near, wonder if she's eating well, wonder if she's studying the nursing books the same way she does here. But most importantly, you wonder if the time is weighing on her as much as it is on you. Does her heart ache the same way as yours? It's not her first trip, but you can never grow accustomed to the months without her, without hearing her voice, without her kisses, without her embraces. It never gets easier, and each trips feels harder than the last. You chuckle to yourself, realizing that Anya left you like a spoiled child, leaving you accustomed to her kisses and affection, leaving you wanting more and more, but now that she's away, you're left alone feeling bitter. All that's left for you is to throw a tantrum.

You sigh, pulling the blanket closer to your chin, drawing your knees to your chest, trying to block out the emptiness that fills the room. The wind outside continues to whistle, the trees' rustling almost soothing. Your eyes flutter shut, heavy from the weight of longing, and before you know it, the familiar warmth of Anya's embrace seems to envelop you.

You're on the couch again, just like every other night, the TV softly playing in the background as you lean against her. Her fingers are stroking gently through your hair, and you sigh, your body easing with every stroke. You feel safe, warm, at peace. You're watching the same reality show, and Anya is watching intently like she always does, her eyes glued to the screen. She's here. She's not on that damn spaceship millions of miles away. She's here with you.

But then you open your eyes... and the room is empty. The cold air rushes in, and the only sound is the rustling of the leaves outside.

You blink, the world around you slipping in and out of focus, the line between dream and reality blurring as you begin to wake up. The stars outside the window seem closer now, brighter, and you wonder if Anya is looking at the same ones. You imagine her voice, soft and familiar, calling your name. It was a dream, you know it was, but it felt so real—her presence, her warmth, her touch. The ache of missing her is sharp, but in this moment, it's comforting, like a memory you don't want to let go of.

And a small, steady hope rises in your chest.

She'll be back soon.

You whisper the words to yourself, it's a quiet promise, a soft reassurance. It's not the same as holding her in your arms, but it's something to hold onto—a reminder that the distance between you is only temporary. You know that when she does come back, things will feel right again, like they always do. And though you may have to bear the loneliness for a little while longer, it won't last forever.

You close your eyes again, letting the thought of her warmth fill you, pulling the blanket tighter around you. For now, it's enough. Just knowing she'll be back soon.

And when she does, the autumn nights will feel like home again.

Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight.

[magiccath]

A Mind Full of Blissful Terrors

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the Doctor and reader investigate a strange spaceship

CW: horror elements, body gore, and one singular f-bomb

Word count: 7.4k

A/N: many, many drafts, and too many months later, I have finally finished this one. I really hope you guys like it.

You bounced into the TARDIS control room, more than excited for your next adventure with the Doctor. He could take you to a grocery store and you would probably enjoy it. 

“Where to today?” You asked with a smile. 

“I was thinking someplace relaxing, we’ve been running for the past couple of days,” the Doctor suggested, looking at you for approval. 

“Yes please!” you groaned, tilting your head back. 

The Doctor smiled to himself, pleased at his own ability to know when you needed a break. 

“Maybe we could head to Italy for some of that pasta you love?” he suggested, leaning back against the console. 

“I would love some pasta!” you cheered, moving over to him. The Doctor smiled at you, the kind of smile that overtook his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled and his eyebrows angled slightly upwards. 

“Allons-y!” He cheered, turning back towards the console. He started messing with it, flipping switches and pressing buttons. He did it all too fast for you to make sense of it. He was about ready to lift off when it started.

The TARDIS was beeping. The kind of sound a car makes when you forget to put your seatbelt on. The only issue was, the TARDIS doesn’t have seatbelts. You didn’t know the ship as well as he did, but you did know it wasn’t a normal sound. 

You looked about in confusion before shouting his name over the incessant noise. 

He looked back at you, just as confused as you were. That didn’t bode well with you.

The ship lurched forward aggressively, sending you tumbling across the room. You crashed into the railing, the impact making you wince. The Doctor stumbled too, tripping over himself in the process and crashing to the floor. 

“What happened to Italy?” You yelled, frustrated. You had flown to Italy before, and it was never this bumpy. 

“It’s not me!” The Doctor protested, getting up from the floor where he had landed. The ship rocked again, almost sending him back down. 

“Can you stop it?” 

“I’m not quite sure,” he grumbled, rushing about pressing buttons and pulling levers, all the while trying not to fall again. Unfortunately for him, centuries of experience meant little when your ship had a mind of its own. 

You gripped the railing for dear life, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes it would just stop.

“It’s a distress signal,” he explained after a while, squinting at the screen in front of him. 

“What?” You opened your eyes. It didn’t sound like a distress signal to you.

“Someone has patched through a distress signal, there’s nothing I can do about it,” he said, clutching the computer screen in front of him. 

You let out an exasperated sigh, letting go of the railing. This wasn’t entirely unusual. The TARDIS had a habit of hijacking your trips and taking you places you didn’t really want to be. It was no surprise that your vacation was being postponed by some “distress call.”

The ship landed with its signature thump, the impact sending you stumbling again, this time into the console. You quickly regained your balance, running your hands through your hair anxiously.

You could be anywhere just about now, and the thought made you slightly uneasy. The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed more than excited for the adventure at hand. He rushed to the door, eagerly throwing them open with reckless abandon. Warily, you followed him. 

You didn’t know what to expect, but this certainly wasn’t it. 

Before you was a seemingly endless hallway. There were no windows, only large expanses of steel paneled walls. There was an incessant beeping in the distance, but you couldn’t pinpoint the sound. It was hard to see too far in front of you, the hallway was completely dark. 

The Doctor rummaged around in his coat pocket, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and a small flashlight. He handed the latter to you and started off down the hall without explanation. You had no choice but to switch the light on and run after him. 

He walked around with curiosity, his eyebrows furrowed. You walked slowly behind him taking in the ominous surroundings. He led the way with his screwdriver, scanning just about everything. He stopped every down and then to frown at the readings.

The beam of your flashlight was small, leaving you mostly in the dark. From what you could see, the hallway was a mess. Rubbish lined the floor; empty food packets, ripped fabric, and various pieces of plastic and metal. You were sure you saw a few bones, but you scuttled away anxiously before continuing.

Distracted from your own surveillance, you walked straight into the Doctor’s back. 

“Sorry,” you winced. He shook his head, unbothered by the disturbance. 

“It doesn't make sense,” he mumbled to himself, continuing down the hallway. He didn’t say it with his usual childish enthusiasm, rather, he seemed to be harboring thinly veiled anxiety.

You sulked after him, the floors creaking incessantly underneath your feet. 

You continued to scan your surroundings. The ceiling was lined with large vents, a few of which were damaged. You didn’t get a solid look, but the hissing coming from them led you to believe they were air vents. Perhaps you were on a space base? Or, a ship?

“Doctor?” you whispered, an unease spreading through you. You couldn’t explain it, but something felt off.

“This way,” he instructed, tilting his head away from the noise. He could get like this. Distracted. In the moment, whatever danger lurked around the corner was paramount to everything else. 

An uneasy feeling that you were being followed crept up on you. You picked up your pace, practically running to catch up with the Doctor. Every now and then you would cast your gaze backward, nervously searching for the presence you sensed. You could have sworn you were seeing shadows, looming forms that sulked after you. It was likely just your brain playing tricks on you, right?

You still used your light to survey the hallways behind the Doctor. For the most part, you were just encountering various forms of rubbish. That was until you stumbled across a body. You gasped, jumping back from it. Your shoes left bloody tracks from the puddles of blood surrounding the corpse.

“What is it?” The Doctor asked worriedly, by your side in an instant. You pointed at the body in front of you, your eyes unable to move away from it. 

The sight was far from pretty. The person was a member of the ship’s crew, their work suit featuring a name patch and company logo. The Doctor moved closer, examining the branding. You scanned the name tag, unsure if knowing the identity of the deceased would make it better or worse. As much as you didn’t want to look at their face, it was hard not to. It was entirely blown open, the skull in cracked fragments from the damage. The flesh on the right side of the face peeled back, blooming like a fungus. On the other side, an eyeball hung from its socket, the optic nerve stopping it from falling to the ground. 

It was the kind of grotesque death that stuck with you, that popped up in your nightmares for months after seeing it. 

“There's not anything we can do for him,” The Doctor said, his voice close to your ear. You jumped, unaware that he had moved back to your side. You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away from the dead body. 

The Doctor offered his hand to you solemnly. You took it, clutching onto it like a tether. Maybe if you squeezed his hand tight enough you could forget that there was a dead body a few meters away from you. 

You stopped looking closely at the ship after that, focusing mostly on what was directly in front of you. If you investigated, you might risk finding more horrors. The Doctor didn’t seem any more comfortable than you, but he continued his scanning and searching of the hallways. 

As you reached the end of a corridor, you stopped with a sudden gasp. The Doctor whipped his head around, terrified that you had found something gruesome again. He relaxed when he saw where your eyes were trained. 

Before you stood a beautiful expanse of space, planets, and stars floating all around. A messy watercolor of shapes and colors, all colliding to create a perfect masterpiece. You had seen some of the masters at work, even posed for a painting with Leonardo Da Vinci. The most famous paintings didn’t compare to the sight in front of you. It was stunning. No, it was more than that.

“Wow,” you breathed, marveling at the sight before you. You could see a hundred galaxies and still find them mesmerizing. You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. 

“Spaceship then?” you deduced, looking back at the Doctor. He nodded, his eyes already trained on you. A sky full of stars, and he was looking at you. 

“Suppose we should figure out where the crew is?” you suggested, trying to be of help.

“Right,” He said, his smile fading. “Where is the crew? A ship has got to have a crew, doesn't it?” 

You nodded solemnly as you followed him. Even if he didn't seem too keen on it, he was still going to investigate. 

He mumbled to himself as he walked, trying to work it all out in his head. He did this a lot, it was his way of thinking. Sometimes, he expected you to listen, but most of the time he was just lost in his own world. 

You approached an intersection and cleared your throat, pulling his attention back to you.

To the right was a hallway like all of the ones you had walked down before. Dark, ominous, and probably housing more dead bodies. You didn’t really want to investigate and find out.

To the left was a similarly eerie hallway, but you could make out a flashing red light at the end of it. The beeping alarm appeared to be coming from that direction as well. You pointed in that direction, surmising that you should go in that direction. 

“Oh, yes, we should probably go that way,” he agreed, but he didn’t move. 

“Doctor?” You asked, looking at him with concern. You offered your hand, trying to replicate the sense of comfort and unity that he had provided for you earlier. 

He smiled, still not his usual happy smile, and took your hand gently. He didn’t squeeze like you did, but you knew he still viewed the hand-holding as a tether. 

“Dark, scary, abandoned spaceship that makes weird noises,” the Doctor recapped as the two of you moved down the hallway. 

“What could go wrong?” you winced. 

The Doctor grimaced, “Don’t say that.” 

A thick, steel door loomed in front of you, bright red lights flashing from the other side. You weren’t quite sure if you were prepared for what lay beyond it. 

Without hesitation, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver to unlock the door. It looked like he was sticking to his usual MO: act first, think later. 

Hesitantly, you slipped in the door after him. You couldn’t say that you shared the same carefree demeanor as the Time Lord.

The first thing you noticed was the windows. The front of the room was covered with thick glass. The view was still beautiful, but you weren’t looking at it. At the moment you had more pressing matters, like the spider web-like fractures that sprinkled the surface of the glass. You tried not to dwell too much on the implications that might have.

Your eyes focused on the rest of the room, darting around to look at all of the damage. Taking in the technological panels around the room, you inferred that you were currently in the central control room of the ship.  

Wires poked out of their metal containers, a few of them shooting sparks into the air around them. Something had clearly made its way through the room, tearing up anything it could find in the process. The disheveled state of your surroundings did little to quell your anxieties. 

On top of it all, the alarms on the ship were more than overwhelming. The flashing lights were blinding, a deafening alarm heightening the pain in your head. 

You moved slowly into the room, your eyes still scanning everything. The Doctor wasn’t as observant as you, shuffling through the mess of wires in a desperate frenzy. He was anxious, and that didn’t help your own anxieties. 

Behind one of the main control panels lay another dead body, this one fully decapitated. You didn’t want to actively look for the head. Whatever had happened, you were too late to do anything about it, you knew that much. That kind of damage just wasn’t something that you could fix.

The Doctor mulled about the nearby screens, trying to get them to turn on. After some brute force accompanied by the sonic, he managed to get the system to boot up. He started by turning off the alarms, a service you were more than grateful for. 

“There’s security footage…” The Doctor mumbled, moving closer to the screen in front of him. He mumbled a few more things, but you didn’t listen. He was probably just talking to himself again. 

You moved about gingerly, taking in the entirety of the room. You examined the damaged control panels while the Doctor continued his fiddling with the working screens. 

Absentmindedly, you picked up an empty box. You dropped it almost immediately, terrified by what was directly behind it.  

In front of you laid a fragment of skull, gooey bits of brain seeping out of it. A singular, unfocused eye stared back at you relentlessly from its socket. 

You looked down at your hand in horror, noticing the small amount of blood from when you handled the box. The sight left you gasping for air, your hand shaking uncontrollably. 

“Doctor,” you cried. You wanted to turn away, wanted to forget the image of it. It was like a car crash, so terrible that you wanted to look away but you just couldn’t. 

You stumbled backward, tripping on another skull fragment. Your foot landed directly on it, sending a painfully loud crack through the room. You gasped in horror, lifting your foot gingerly. The damage from your shoe cracked the damaged bone further, creating a mess of small bone fragments, blood, and what you presumed was the deceased’s brain. The sight was so painfully unnatural, you felt your stomach muscles contracting in fear. You were terrified you might throw up.

“Doctor,” you cried again, feeling tears prick the back of your eyes. 

He ignored you, something he often did when he was in the zone. It wasn’t personal, he just tended to hyperfocus.

You repeated his name, urgency forcing its way into your voice. 

“There’s nothing we can do,” he said, looking over at you sadly. He really wished there was something he could do. If he had the ability, he would save everyone that ever existed. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way.

You choked back a sob, eyes still not wanting to look away from the carnage in front of you or the gore on your hands. You knew there was nothing that could be done about the gruesome scene, but that didn’t make it any less scary. In all reality, who would feel comfortable in a room of dismembered body parts? 

The Doctor whispered your name, placing a hand on your arm gently, “Look at me.” 

You shook your head, terrified. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t look away. Your vision was blurring, distorting the bloody mess of your hand.

“Look at me!” he snapped, grasping your shoulders and effectively pulling you back to reality. The volume of his voice scared you, but you could tell from the tone he was doing it out of love. 

“We need to get to the TARDIS. Now,” He urged. His face was clouded and sad, neither of which eased your fear.

He tried to hold your gaze, tried to get you to look away from the horrors in front of you. He hated that he couldn’t protect you from this. 

“There is something on this ship, something dangerous,” he explained. “It’s probably still here, and we need to leave. Now.”

You blinked, fighting back tears. You didn’t want to be scared. You wanted to be useful and brave. You wanted to be someone the Doctor could admire, someone he could love. Standing in fear, on the verge of tears, was hardly something he found attractive. 

A distinctly alien clicking came from the other side of the room, sending the Doctor rigid. You stared up at him, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. He swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing aggressively. Slowly, he tilted his head in the direction of the door. 

“Slowly. Quietly.” He mouthed. You nodded and followed his lead, sneaking as carefully as you could to the door. 

You didn’t dare take your eyes off of him. You didn’t want to risk laying eyes on whatever else was in the room. If your attention remained on his face, it was almost as if everything was fine. Almost as if you were somewhere safe and comfortable. 

You let the Doctor lead you to the door, his hands placed firmly on your waist. His touch served as an anchor, keeping you tied to reality. 

You were almost halfway to the exit when it hit him. He’d left his sonic screwdriver on the main control panel. 

You saw the panic flash across his face. As much as he tried to hide it from you, you always notice when he’s upset. 

“The sonic,” he mouthed. 

You nodded slowly, letting him know it was okay to let go. You knew how important the sonic was, you’d need it sooner rather than later. 

He was hesitant. The Doctor didn’t like leaving you when it was safe - he dreaded leaving you when it was dangerous.

You nodded again, hoping that your eyes did the talking for you. The two of you weren’t getting too far without the sonic, especially not on a strange spaceship with some monster alien on it. He had to go back, even if that meant leaving you. 

Reluctantly, he started to slowly back away from you. He kept his eyes trained on you for as long as he could before he had to turn away to look where he was going. He moved as quietly as he could, taking extra care to not draw attention to himself. 

Eventually, he made his way back to the console and grabbed the sonic. In the process, he managed to fumble it a bit. He froze, holding his breath in the hope that he hadn’t just revealed your location. The room was silent for a few seconds, long enough for him to think the course was clear. He let out his breath, relieved. 

The clicking resumed from the corner of the room, now closer to you than to him. You saw the recognition flash across the Doctor’s face. You started to turn towards the noise but the Doctor shook his head. You froze, not daring to move. 

You heard the windows crack further, the sound of glass breaking unnaturally loud in the silent room. The shattering made your stomach drop, your breathing labored and tense.  

“Run!” The Doctor shouted, already making his way out of the room. You were on opposite ends of the room, it made no sense for either of you to wait for the other. 

Even still, it took a second for the Doctor’s words to register. Once they did, you set off running. 

You had to get as far away as you could. The blood rushing in your ears was enough to dull the sounds around you. The only thing that mattered was getting out. 

You could hear the monster moving and hissing behind you, the sound growing closer and closer. You looked behind you, panic coursing through your body. You couldn’t see anything, and you didn’t dare stop to get a good look. You could hear thumping in the vents, maybe that’s how the alien was getting around. You stopped running, turning your attention to the vents above you. Sure enough, that was the origin of the noise. The hissing was getting louder, the proximity of danger sending you into a frenzy. 

You didn’t know what to do. You were on a strange spaceship in the middle of nowhere with a potentially deadly alien coming after you. Even worse, you were separated from the Doctor. 

You turned around in circles, raking your brain for a way out of this. The more you thought about it, the more panic you felt. It was times like this that you wished your body went into fight mode rather than flight. Maybe then you could be useful. 

You hardly had time to react before the alien had dropped down from the vents and onto you. You let out a shout before it grabbed you, the force of it knocking you out. 

-

You woke up in your bed, your head feeling heavy and groggy. The memories came back to you slowly, the ship, the alien, the dead bodies. You shuddered, looking around the room anxiously. Your eyes landed on the Doctor and you let out a sigh. 

“You’re awake,” he smiled brightly. 

You smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spread across your body. 

He moved over to you, gathering you in a tight hug. You buried your nose in his neck, inhaling his signature scent. The calming mix of linen, peppermint, and strong tea. The smell was familiar and comforting, a welcome sensation after the anxiety you had just endured.

“I was terrified, I thought I lost you and t-that thing,” you choked, stumbling over your words. It didn’t really matter, you were with the Doctor now. The steady thumping of his duel hearts provided a baseline that calmed your frantic breathing, effectively quenching your panic.

You finally pulled away from the Doctor enough to look at him. Oftentimes, you found you could learn more from the Time Lord’s eyes than his words. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, his eyes riddled with worry. 

“I’m ok,” you shook your head, “I’m ok now.” 

You really were. It was silly to think that the Doctor could fix everything, but he sure could fix a lot of things. You felt safe with him, especially when he had saved you from random spaceships and homicidal aliens.  

“Thank you for getting me out of there,” you smiled. He hugged you again, and you relished in the comfort. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms.

The next thing he did shocked you. The Doctor kissed you. 

He held your face like it was his entire world and placed his lips against yours gently. You melted into the kiss, tangling your hands in his shirt. 

You felt tears slide down your face - from relief, from joy, and just pure pleasure. Kissing the Doctor was everything that you had ever wanted and more. 

He kissed you like you were his everything, like he couldn’t get enough of you. When he pulled away he looked into your eyes adoringly, a smile creeping across his face. 

He kissed the top of your head, the feeling comforting and familiar. 

“Stay with me?” you asked, holding onto him.

“Always,” he whispered into your hair.

-

The Doctor couldn’t find you, and he was starting to worry. 

You both had seen what the alien did to people firsthand. He didn’t want you to become its next victim. It could take your mind, and even worse, it could kill you.

A race he had previously believed to be extinct that possessed the power to show you your deepest desires. Lost in self-indulgence, the creature could feed off of your energy until you were drained. The sheer force of it usually caused your head to explode. The corpse with the blown-up face in the hallway should have clued him in. He ridiculed himself for not figuring it out sooner. 

Not knowing where you were or if you were still alive was sending the Doctor into a spiral. 

He ran through the endless halls, desperately searching for you. He couldn’t hear the alien moving around, and the silence was deafening. He didn’t know if it was on the other side of the ship, well away from you, or if it was busy feasting off of your brain. 

As he turned the corner, his fears became a reality. 

You were sprawled out on the floor, your shallow breathing the only sign of life coming from you. The alien clung to you, the contact enough to establish a psychic link. 

He had to be smart about this if he wanted to keep you alive. He needed to get the alien off of you as quickly as possible and pull you out of the dream-induced state before your mind turned into mush, or worse.

He flattened his back against the wall, his breath coming out in short pants. His mind raced, scenarios playing out one after another like a series of movies. He couldn’t mess up, not if he wanted to make it out of this in one piece. Not if he wanted to save you.

He peered around the corner, looking warily in your direction. The alien only had the capacity for one victim at a time. Considering it was latched onto you, he was mostly safe. That was unless there were multiple on the ship. 

He decided it was a risk worth taking and rushed to your side. He picked up your hand, holding it gently. You were breathing, but just barely. He needed to move fast. He said your name a few times, hoping it might rouse you, even if he knew it wouldn’t. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, allowing his fingers to travel towards your head. He hated invading your mind like this, especially without your permission. It was a direct violation, but he couldn’t think of much else to do. 

He didn’t know what he had expected to see, but images of your lips on his were certainly not on the list. He dropped the connection instantly, scampering away from your limp body. 

He shook his head. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. The alien had gotten in his head. That was the only explanation. 

He held his head in his hands, trying to get rid of the residual images of the two of you. He didn’t want to think about it too much. If he did, he might find himself falling deeper into the rabbit hole. He feared it was just the alien showing his own desires. 

“It’s just a dream,” he whispered to himself, trying to get ahold. It wasn’t real. It was just what he wanted to see.

Once he had settled his mind enough, he focused on establishing a physic block. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with saving you if he was fighting the alien himself.

-

You were happy and safe in the Doctor’s arms. He was holding you against his chest, and you could hear the steady beating of his hearts. The sound was comforting and familiar. 

You couldn’t think of a single place you would rather be. The Doctor felt like home to you.

He traced circular patterns onto your back. You were sure it was circular Gallifreyan, but you were too blissful to focus on it. 

Your peace was violently ruined as you jerked up in pain. Your head was suddenly filled with screaming. The pain shot through your head, causing you to pull away from the Doctor. 

You could see the concern on his face, could see his lips moving. He was probably asking if you were okay, but you couldn’t hear it. All you could hear was the noise. 

You collapsed to the floor, squeezing your eyes shut. Panic rushed through you, pushing tears from your eyes. You felt like you were dying. Maybe you were. 

You curled into a ball, clutching your head desperately. You gripped and pulled at your hair, anything to try and end this pain. It wouldn’t go away, no matter what you did. 

You screamed, the sound gruesome and raw. You didn’t know what else to do. 

After what seemed like hours, the noise grew to a painful crescendo that drowned out even your own voice. 

As suddenly as it all started, the noise ended. The change was shocking, enough to leave you extremely light-headed. The shift from everything to nothing was more torturous than relieving. 

You sprang upright, a gasp falling from your lips. 

Your eyes darted across the room anxiously. You were back in the TARDIS, but you couldn’t remember getting there. Next to you was the shriveled corpse of some alien. You gasped and shoved yourself away from it, fear coursing through your body.

“It’s ok,” the Doctor said, holding his hand out, “you’re ok.” 

“What the fuck just happened?” You gasped, leaning away from him too. Your eyes continued darting around the room in fear. You couldn’t remember much, just running from the monstrous hissing and clicking in the vents. You figured the dead thing next to you had been chasing you, but you couldn’t remember the Doctor being there with you.

“Take a deep breath,” the Doctor urged. 

You shook your head and repeated your question, “What just happened?” with a pant. 

“That alien,” he gestured to the corpse, “had you in a trance, I helped pull you out of it,” he explained, calmly. He was looking into your eyes with worry. 

“A what?” You asked, shaking your head again. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. 

“The alien on this ship,” he explained. You cut him off with a gasp, the horrors of the control room rushing back to you. The box, the bodies, the blood. You looked down at yourself with fear, half expecting yourself to be maimed. 

“It’s ok,” he urged again, “I got rid of it, you’re safe.” 

You shook your head, hoping it would all go away. 

“It’s gone.” 

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“It’s over.” 

A tear slid down your face. You still didn’t know why you were crying. Relief? Fear? Happiness? 

The Doctor let you, he knew it was a lot. You had almost died after all. He moved over to you, offering a hand so you could stand up. You let him pull you upright until you were standing. 

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked, brushing your tears away gently. He was so gentle with you, even in your dreams. 

“A hug would be good,” you stuttered. The Doctor didn’t waste any time pulling you into his arms. He held you tightly, like he was afraid that you would slip out of his grip. 

Your face came to rest in the crook of his neck, the feeling and smell all too familiar. The tears came faster then, harder too. You couldn’t hold them back. 

The Doctor pulled away, looking at you with concern, “what’s wrong?”

“Why couldn’t it have been real?” you sobbed, fairly certain you were incoherent like this, “why can’t you love me?” 

You wanted to take it back the minute that you said it. Once you saw the words register with the Doctor you knew it was all over. 

You wiped your tears hurriedly, stepping back from him. 

“You don’t have to answer that - I don't know why I said that,” you laughed, even though you didn’t find it funny. You were embarrassed that you had shown your cards like that. Embarrassed that you had let the Doctor know how you really felt about him. But even more, you were mad at yourself for asking such a selfish question. For wanting something simply because it felt good to you. 

“But I do,” the Doctor whispered back, confused. How could you not see that?

“Yeah, as a friend,” you said, more to the floor than to his face. You were fiddling, moving farther and farther away from him. He felt like you were drifting away, and he wanted you to come back. 

“No,” he shook his head vigorously, his floppy hair flying across his forehead. 

“It’s ok,” you mumbled, the back of your legs hitting the TARDIS console. There was nowhere else for you to back up. 

“No, really. I cannot tell you how much I care for you,” he said, he desperately wanted to reach out to you. He didn’t know how to prove this to you, to show you just how much he truly loved you. He wasn’t good at being emotionally vulnerable, that much he knew. But that didn’t change the way he felt about you.

You shook your head again. “It’s not real”. You were dreaming again, you had to be. That was the only sensible explanation for all of this.

“It is,” the Doctor pleaded. He hated that this was happening, hated seeing you in pain. 

“I can show you,” he suggested, holding out his hands. He didn’t have the words to prove it to you, but he had the memories.

“I can develop a telepathic link, I can let you into my mind. I can’t lie to you in there,” he offered. You frowned at his outstretched hands, your brain still processing his words.

“You can say no,” he added, “after what happened today I wouldn’t blame you.” 

You thought about it for a moment. You really wanted to believe the Doctor, so you nodded. 

The Doctor moved towards you gently, still giving you plenty of chances to recoil from his touch. His fingers landed feather light against your temple. His eyes fluttered closed, and you followed suit. 

It was like being pulled through space. There was no warning or preparation, just a sudden feeling of vertigo crashing in on you. 

Before you knew it you were inside the Time Lord’s mind. It felt like literally walking around his brain, digging in the creases that he never let anyone see. It wasn’t the kind of experience that you could explain to someone, even if you had wanted to. 

For the first time, you saw what you looked like from his eyes. Images of your smile flashed in front of you, the speed of it making your eyes hurt. It was weird to see yourself like this - from someone else's point of view. It was like looking at someone else entirely. 

You had only ever seen yourself in a mirror, or pictures. Your face seemed backward to you, and it took a second for it to register that it was. So this is how people see me? You thought, looking at yourself with a newfound sense of scrutiny. 

You didn’t get to dwindle on it for too long before the memories started playing. It was like a mental backlog of home videos, and you wondered how the doctor could remember this much of you. Surely he had more important things in his brain than you? 

It started in the early days, back when he had first met you. You couldn’t help but notice how young you looked. 

“I have room for one more,” the Doctor had offered, leaning against his mysterious blue box casually.

“I don’t know,” you had said, tilting your head, “that ship looks a little small.”

The Doctor grinned at you and opened the door, beckoning you inside. This was always his favorite part.

“It’s… smaller on the outside,” you gasped. The Doctor looked at you shocked, no one had ever said that to him before. The typical response was somewhere along the lines of “It’s bigger on the inside!” followed by complete shock at the defiance of the laws of space. Instead, you looked at the ship with unmistakable wonder, adoration, and curiosity. Your hands danced across the cool metal of the ship, fascinated by everything around you. You had the wonder and inquisitiveness of a child, fascinated by even the simplest of things around you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled at the Doctor, the grin taking over your whole face. The Doctor couldn’t help but be amazed at you, at the wonder you had for the world around you. It was beautiful, and he couldn’t look away.

The scene faded, a new one taking its place.

In the new memory, you ran into the TARDIS control room, a giant smile plastered on your face. This memory was later, you could tell not only by your face but by the clear comfort you had with the ship. By now, you were more than comfortable calling it home.

“Doctor!” you laughed, plopping down next to him happily.

“Yes?” The Doctor asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Guess what I found?” you asked, an eyebrow quirking upwards. You remembered this day. You had spent hours trying to figure out the organizational system in the TARDIS library. You eventually figured out that there wasn’t really one and gave up. However, in the process, you stumbled across a book. 

In the Doctor’s memory, you held up a dusty book ceremoniously. 

“A book?” he asked with a laugh. 

You shook your head, your smile unfaltering. 

“It’s your favorite book,” you laughed, shoving the book into the Doctor’s chest. 

“How do you know that?” He asked, thumbing the pages fondly. 

“You told me once,” you shrugged, a scarlet flush creeping across your face. 

“I did?” He asked, setting the book off to the side. 

“When you took me to see Jane Austen,” you explained, leaning against the console comfortably. 

“I asked what your favorite book was, and you told me it was this one,” you put your hand on top of the old hardback, fingers brushing across the worn cover. In your memory, you had been looking at the book, too scared to meet the Doctor’s eye. From his perspective, the focus was on your face. The slight smile that tugged at your lips, the way that your hair fell into your face. There was no mistaking the way that the Doctor looked at you at that moment. You had seen it a hundred times on television. You felt a heat flush to your cheeks. Not in the memory, but in the current moment. 

The Doctor’s memory moved on, the moment fleeting. 

In this scene, he was hunched over the TARDIS console. He hung his head in a way that conveyed distress, his spiky hair falling over cloudy eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, placing your hand on his shoulder gently. 

He looked over at you, almost surprised to see you. 

The Time Lord’s eyes were always so expressive, and you didn’t like what you saw in them. You couldn’t recall a time you had ever seen them this sad. There was a darkness in them, the kind that worried you. 

“I’m always alright,” he said tightly, forcing a sad smile. 

“No, no you’re not,” you said, tracing your hand down his arm. You let your fingers interlace with his, and his eyes trained themselves on the connection. 

“Why do you stay with me?” He choked, clearly fighting tears.

You frowned, confused by the question. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“The things I’ve done…” he trailed off, lost in his own dark thoughts, “They’re unforgivable.” 

“You’re not your past,” you assured, rubbing calming circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. 

“I keep doing them. Horrible things,” he shook his head. “I’m a monster.” 

“Don’t say that,” you ridiculed. He laughed sadly, turning away from you. 

“Hey.” you guided his face back in your direction gently, your touch comforting. “You are a good man.” Your eyes darted between his, taking in anguish laden in them. 

“You’re the Doctor,” you stated with a laugh. Your hands traveled down to his chest, resting over his hearts. They thumped a steady rhythm, the beat comforting and familiar to you.

“You have the biggest hearts of anyone I know,” you said, still holding his eye. Your hands moved back up to his face, holding it gently. He closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his freckled cheek. Your thumb swiped it away without a second thought. 

“You are so good,” you reassured. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he cried, the tears more frequent now.

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” you chuckled, the slight humor of it bringing a small smile to his face.

“Seriously,” you added. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair.

The scene melted away again, a new one taking its place.

“It’s your name,” the Doctor explained as you thumbed a pendant. It was small, hardly bigger than a coin. Engraved on the surface was a series of intertwining circles, a pattern you easily recognized as circular Galliyfreyan. 

“How did you?” You asked, your sentence trailing off as you looked up at him in wonder. 

“I had it specially made,” he shrugged like it meant nothing. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, looking down at the necklace in adoration. There was a twinkle in your eyes that you had never picked up on before. 

“Can you put it on for me?” You asked holding the necklace out to the Doctor. He nodded meekly, taking the chain from your hands. 

His hands lingered on your skin as he fastened the chain around your neck. You could feel the electricity in his touch, the way that he didn't want to let go. 

You turned around with a smile on your face, your hand ghosting around the pendant. 

“How do I look?” You asked.

The Doctor smiled to himself, taking the moment to memorize your face. The distinct lines of your expression, the shine in your eyes, the joy on your face. All of it was captivating. You were captivating. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and he meant it. 

The scene moved on. You weren’t in the next one, the area unfamiliar to you. 

The Doctor was sitting in the console room, his head bowed. Donna stood above him, her arms crossed. The sight of the redhead made you sad, you missed her. You missed your best friend. 

“You’re acting like I don’t already know this?” She laughed, the sound painstakingly familiar. 

The Doctor looked up at her like a wounded puppy. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at them,” she continued, “like they’re the only person in the whole wide world that matters.” 

“That’s dramatic,” the Doctor groaned. 

“It’s true,” she glared at him. He didn’t argue. 

“Are you going to tell them?” She asked, her gaze softening. 

The Doctor shook his head, “I can’t.” 

“Why?” Donna glared. 

“Have you ever heard the saying ‘Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it than to have never had it?’?” He asked her, pain in his eyes. 

“That feels contradictory.” 

“I mean, I would rather have them as I do than not have them at all,” he explained. Donna sighed and sat next to him, looking at him sympathetically. 

“I don't think I could live without them,” he sighed, burying his head in his hands. 

The scene faded, and you were left with the Doctor’s face looking at you worriedly. You hadn’t realized you were crying until he wiped the tears from your face. 

“Are you ok?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern. He hadn’t wanted to upset you further. That was the opposite of his intentions.

You smiled at him. You weren't crying from sadness, or even anxiety like before. No, these were happy tears. Happy that it was real, that the Doctor really loved you. It was everything you had ever wanted.

You threw your arms around the doctor, holding tightly onto him. 

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear. You felt it was about time you said it. 

“I love you too,” the Doctor sighed like it was a breath he had been holding in. 

“So, so much,” he shook his head, wrapping his arms around your waist. He lifted you off the ground ceremoniously, swinging you back and forth gently. 

You laughed lightly, pulling back to look at his face. 

“Say it again,” you smiled, relishing in the feeling of his words.

“I love you,” he smiled back, and you knew he meant it. 

[70sscifiart]

The Last-Minute Sci-Fi Gift Guide

There's only one thing worse than procrastinating on getting gifts for your loved ones, and that's procrastinating on putting together a guide to help out everyone else with all those gifts. It's Dec 12, so you can decide for yourself which I'm doing.

Art book: Worlds Beyond Time, $32

If you follow this blog, you might have heard of this one. I published Worlds Beyond Time: Sci-Fi Art of the 1970s this year after five years of work on it, and I think it's really good! 400+ images, 100+ artists, with lots of fun art history and jokes.

Also, it's just $20 right now if you order through my publisher and use the code SKIPTHELINE! Cheapest it's ever been!

Card game: Coup, $14

In this "social deduction" card game, you play as a government official in a future dystopia who needs to backstab their way into power. Everyone starts out with just two cards in this bluffing game, so the tide can turn pretty quick when players start assassinating each other's cards. The fast pace makes it a good gift for someone who loves spies but thinks they don't like card games.

Game to play over Zoom: Bad Spaceships, $3

If a bluffing game stresses you out, try Bad Spaceships: It's a collaborative world-building game in which you roll dice to see what area of your spaceship connects to another, forcing you to spitball exactly why this is the case. As the game puts it, you might fix the hull by playing Tetris, or charge your weapons in the swimming pool. You're basically getting weird prompts to tell a story that can evolve over the course of the game.

It's such an indie game that it comes as PDFs you download from itch.io, but you can play it just as well over Zoom, if you're looking for an excuse to catch up with your old digital nomad college friend.

Movies/TV: Streaming service gift card

Gift cards are all well and good, but you can personalize them by recommending a few of your favorite shows as well. I suggest:

Hulu: Cowboy Bebop

Apple TV+: Severance

Criterion Channel: Ravenous, Paprika, Strange Days

Paramount+: Yellowjackets

Amazon Prime: The Devil's Hour

But to be honest, this entry is just an excuse to talk about the new Max show Scavenger’s Reign. Inspired by the work of French artist Moebius and with a clear debt to famed 70s animated film Fantastic Planet, this stylish sci-fi show features a bunch of humans trying to survive on a beautiful but hostile alien world. Perfect for lovers of fictional nature.

Vintage sci-fi

This Etsy shop has some good stuff, like the 1971 Frank Kelly Freas NASA poster above, a bit of history that I even mentioned on page 167 of my art book.

Penguin science fiction postcards, $28

These postcards have a ton of very cool sci-fi covers I've blogged in the past – great value if you want a lot of art for a low cost.

Meteorite pendant necklace, $34

I think we all know what kind of rock your loved ones need around their neck: A chunk of meteorite straight out of the 1576 Argentinan meteorite fall.

Book recs

For astronauts: Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, The New Guys: The Historic Class of Astronauts That Broke Barriers and Changed the Face of Space Travel by Meredith Bagby

For comedians: Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, Even Greater Mistakes: Short Stories by Charlie Jane Anders 

For sleuths: Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty, Drunk on All Your Strange New Words by Eddie Robson

For crafters: Knits of Tomorrow: Toys and Accessories for your Retro-Future Needs

For the resistance fighters: The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley, An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

For slasher movie fans: Clown in a Cornfield by Adam Cesare

Syd Mead "Biomorph Vehicle" button down shirt, $49

T-shirts aren't classy enough for the world's coolest visual futurist, Syd Mead. I haven't actually bought this incredibly odd shirt, but I really need to.

Art prints (and more) from 70s sci-fi artists

Artist shops can be surprisingly hard to track down on the internet, but here's a short list of ones I've come across. All of these artists are featured in my book (except one), so you can read up on them before you commit to a print.

Michael Whelan 

John Harris

Syd Mead

Don Maitz

David B Mattingly

Peter Andrew Jones - Jones was one of just a few artists who declined to be included in my art book, but he has a distinct, colorful style that I would have loved to have featured!

Finally, here's one extra bonus, just for everyone who made it to the end of this article: The UK-based educational charity Centre for Computing History sells three big officially licensed John Harris posters featuring these three artworks, famous for their use as covers for Sinclair programming manuals.

It's a great deal that I've never seen mentioned anywhere, and Harris' work has a timeless quality that makes it great for an unassuming wall decoration. If you're outside the UK, the shipping costs will be a pain, but there's no better deal for a classic sci-fi poster.

[galaxytoons]

THE RESULTS ARE IN!!!!!!

(Make sure to read this post completely to the end! Even if you didn’t win or even participate, there’s something at the end for you too!!!!)

It’s been a wonderful month, and I can’t believe how many of you participated! 17 of you, and all such amazing artwork! Now, sometime later today when I have time, I will DM the winners with their prize options and begin working on them. For now, let me announce them!!!!

5TH PLACE

Here in 5th place, we have @kalmiaclown ‘s awesome GIF!!!

The art style is absolutely adorable, and I loved the effects!!!! They look so silly, Congrats!

4TH PLACE

Now introducing 4th place, with @the-alien-incident ‘s 3D model!!!!

I can’t stress enough how awesome it is that you took the time and patience to make a hecking 3 DIMENSIONAL MODEL of a DTIYS of some silly nerd on Tumblr celebrating their 200 follower milestone. I love it so much, the detail is just—Chef’s kiss!!! This requires some serious skill.

3RD PLACE

In 3rd, we have… @lethal-spaceship ‘s DOPE ASS woods scene!

The colors? The lighting? The characters? The background? HNGHAHGAHGSGHSHSHSH JESUS CHRIST HOW. HOW DOES ONE ACCOMPLISH SUCH BEAUTY AND GRACE. MAD RESPECT.

2ND PLACE

Here in 2nd, we have…. @ossy-t00n ‘s—HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THIS MASTERPIECE

This one was genuinely so hard to decide between this and the other one for 1st. I love it so much, this is probably one of my favorite images on the internet now. Thank you for blessing my eyes with this.

1ST PLACE

And last, but absolutely not least, we have, drumroll please…. @bonniecupcake ‘s glorious art!!!!

What isn’t to love of this divine image? The poses are awesome. The colors are amazing. This slaps so. fucking. hard. You cooked. You served. You ate. You left no crumbs. Thank you for this absolute MEAL of an artwork. Congratulations on your win.

Below the cut, you can see the rest of the participants art (in no particular rank or order) including a cosplay someone did!

then after that, is the prize for EVERYONE!

Credits (in order of appearance)

@asexual-spongebob @neskiq @boldlyangryshark @airglowairi @ghostorbz @banishmentplanet @aperfecttimeforscreaming @butter1knife @eepysillybug @deb-neb @bbonezie @the-huxler

now, are you guys ready?

okay, now. I’m going to link a google form. One poll for a character, one for a situation. You are to pick one option from each poll. At the end of the week, I will check the polls. And whatever character wins, I will draw them in the situation that wins.

Have fun! I’ve had a great time with you all :) And of course you can still draw for the DTIYS even though it’s over for fun, I’d still love to see your versions of this! <3 thanks again for 200, I guess now almost 300 followers! I’m really glad you all enjoy what I do as much as I enjoy it.

[nightcrawvler]

"AMONG US AMONG BATS 'N BIRDS!"

BATFAM SHENANIGANS: Issue #1: "Who is the imposter?"

"Drake, one must bear the honor and inform you: your head accessory looks hideous. Where is the sense of style? The professionalism? This is a significant competition of wits and— " insisted Damian, his index-finger tapping impatiently against the side of his phone as it's tilted to the side — he had already chosen his Among Us skin and head accessory. A royal-blue skin, dressed in a formal suit and tie, full detective-mode. Very chic if you asked him. Not to forget the small, surprisingly matching, though the Wayne heir would insist it was on purpose, small little pet-dog to his side. A fabulous arrangement for a skilled and stoic player such as himself. Damian adjusted himself in his desk's chair as he pushes it up a little — he's supposed to be able to reach the desk top. It is not his fault the desk was so big. He dangles his feet, not quite reaching the floor, absentmindedly. "Then again, you never had a sense of fashion, had you, Drake?"

Tim's tongue is slightly stuck out the side of his lips in deep concentration as he tries to find a suitable outfit for his skin — he has enough time, and Damian's words don't quite reach him. Jason is taking too long to enter the party-code into the game due to him accidentally dropping his phone into the toilet seat a day prior — "Why isn't this working? I had put it in rice just like Dick said." — his phone is very laggy. This man will not be buying a new one, though ... B's money? Yeahhh, B's money. They're in for a surprise at his Among Us skills once he gets himself a new device.

Meanwhile, the oldest siblings of the birds nest has to physically restrain himself from not jumping out from the expensive cushion couch and perform joyful, acrobatic tricks in excitement. Dick finally managed to convince some of his siblings to play Among Us together. All it took was hauling Tim out of his room to prevent him from re-working a certain case file again, bribing Jason with some candy he knows his little brother loves, and ultimately, using the 'I-bet-you-can't-do-this!' charade on Damian. He knows his littlest brothers proneness to being extremely competitive. He's winning that round, Damian urged.

"How long is Jason going to take?" Duke asked into the microphone of his headset, sat comfortably in his chair. "Did you put your phone in rice yet? It's time to get a new one, don't you think, man?" he added with a reassuring smile to himself. "I did and it's not working. Dick just had to give me some cheap-tricked advice on how to repair my phone." Jason grumbled. He then finally gets on. "Hah!"

"Have you finally made it, Todd? I'm growing impatient." Damian said sternly, — an attempt, at the very most. His voice is still very high compared to his brothers. He just sounds like a whiny, kid bird chirping for a change. "Can we begin? Where's Steph? And Cass?" Dick chimed, currently chasing Damian's skin around the lobby, trying to stand next to him in a proud, brotherly gesture!

"Unhand me at once!" Damian chirped accidentally, his voice cracking audibly. He frowned. "I can stand by my own."

"Im just showing you that i'm there for you! As your, hah, best and coolest older brother, of course—" Dick gloated.

It isn't long before the game finally begins. Stephanie was quick to join last second, finally having recharged her previously dead phone. "LEETS GET THIS PART-EY STARTED!" she cheered, moving the digital joystick further into the spaceships rooms. "I'm so winning this, guys, just watch me. Number one detective, at yer service!" Dick laughed. "We'll see, we'll see."

Tim is busy checking out the rooms, although on guard: He wasn't the imposter. At least that's what he'll believe for now. Years of training and stealth is getting him this far. Jason, on the other hand is, with great struggle, in a room and shooting some meteors in space, protecting the ship. Damian, of course, is checking out the cables and putting them in right order.

Dick suddenly gasped dramatically, jumping onto his feet as he held his tablet. He watched a quick, red burst pass his screen, a big skull appearing: "KILL!" He quickly smacked his mouth shut, watching the black among us skin take his precious life. How dare they? You'd think even on different sides, they'd stick together! He must not spoil the game and yell out who it was. No, no. He'll get back at them outside the game. He's already pulling out his notes-app, clicking the 'Revenge' folder. This man is plotting, and it's gonna be colorful— and feathery.

"CALL A MEETING!" Tim hollered as if his nerdy life depended on it. This man was determined. "Who was killed???" Jason urges. "I hope it was Dickhea—" "HEY! WHATS—"

"I have a suspect!" the family's resident gremlin announced, demanding attention, his little head tilted up in a defiant manner. "Yeah, me, too. And it's you, Demon Spawn." Jason chimed. "So, according to how everyone was in their assigned rooms, and doing their respective tasks, —" Tim is quickly interrupted. "Get to the point, Timbers!"

"Alright, Alright." Tim sighed. "It's Damian."

"ACCUSATIONS!" their hear Damian shout.

"RIGHTFUL ONES!" Tim shot back. "Okay, guys, let's tal—" Dick had attempted to placate, yet it was futile. "ITS TIM!" Stephanie chimed. "NOW, EXCUSE ME—" This man is offended. "Any evidence for your claim, Steph?!"

"You just seem SUS!" She snickered loudly. "Getting all defensive, are we?" She added. "I personally think it's the Demon brat." Jason said with an almost audible, and smug shrug. "He's never up to any good." "I am n—"

"ITS DAMIAN-!" Dick blurted out impulsively, a pearly grin on his face. "THATS WHAT IM SAYI–"

"TIM, ITS TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE!" Stephanie sang, Tim shaking in refusal and denial. "It isn't me, Steph! You're probably just saying that to move the attention away from yourself! Because you're the imposter!"

"Drake is the imposter. The stupid outfit said it all." Damian muttered, but loudly enough. "That's a stupid reason, Damian—" Tim rolled his eyes. "My outfit is perfectly fine. I'm a hacker, I make my skin look the part."

"Let's gang up on Damian's claims," Jason nodded, and so did Dick. "Good idea."

"GANG UP ON ME?!" Damian said in utter befuddlement. "HOW DARE YOU— It's Tim, you imbeciles!"

Much to nobody's surprise, Damian is already leapt onto Tim's back and dragging at him, it's quickly turning into a brawl— Tim is soon to be voted out.

Damian suddenly gets killed in the game. Bam!

Everyone quickly snapped their gazes onto their screens, calling up a meeting. "Huh?? Weren't we all just discussing something?"

"So much for being master detectives, y'all." Jason smirked with a wry expression. "I was... killed." Damian muttered in surprise. "Impossible!"

"ITS STEPH!" Dick tried again, "NOW WHAT THE HELL MADE YOU THINK THAT—" Stepahine retaliated, "ITS CLEARLY YOU."

"ITS TIM!" Jason yelled. "I'm already voted out, you idiot!"

"Jason, we're voting out Steph, cmon!"

"You're on it, Big Wing."

"YOUVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" Stephanie complained. "ITS NOT ME—!" Steph's out.

"Hah, you're out, Blondie. Try again next time." Jason sniggered, slapping his knee. "I'm getting back at you for this." Stephanie huffed. "Well, it ain't me." Duke says.

"It ain't me, either!"

"KILL!"

Cassandra's black ninja Among Us skin calmly walks away from the crime scene, after having beheaded Duke. The round is over. The imposter wins.

@cannibalhellhound 's request!