#sorry you got the wrong number aliens

[sp3akfromtheart]

an alien telephone fell through the rift?! torchwood's finest are on the case...

[mariasont]

Bumper to Bumper - A.H

a/n: this is so self-indulgent i am probably the worst fucking parker you've ever seen it's wild & i also just watched a vid of mgg parking someone's car and went feral so there's that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader (i don't think there is any use of pronouns just nicknames like honey)

warnings: none? rough day, reader is beefing with parking, tooth-rotting fluff

wc: 800

"Hotchner," came his voice, rough like sandpaper across the line, as you fought back the swell of tears, your lower lip caught in the anxious trap of your teeth.

Your eyes fixed on the parking spot before you, the very sight of it forming a lump in your throat as your frustration mounted. The morning had unfolded like a series of unfortunate events--your coffee machine had sputtered its last, your favorite book left forgotten on the porch to be ruined by the rain, and now, this parking spot seemed to mock you, its yellow lines almost pulsating with contempt. 

Your hand glided across your dampened cheek, exhaling a shaky breath as you juggled the phone between your ear and shoulder. "You know, I don't think I've said this enough, but you're an exceptional boss. Honestly, you're—"

You sensed the sigh in his breath before he spoke. "What do you need?"

"I know I'm late," you managed to get out, a small hiccup halting your sentence as you did everything in your power to avoid crying, but the waver in your voice gave you away. "But I have a good reason--"

Once more, he stopped you mid-sentence, as he often did. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"  

"I'm fine, it's silly."

"If something's wrong, I want to hear it. What's happening?"

"I just... I can't seem to park my car," you choke out, cheeks aflame with mortification. "I've been trying and failing, over and over, it's embarrassing. The spot's too tight, and of course, it's the only one left because 'M late."

"Hold on, I'll be right there," he said, and the line went dead.

You were left staring at your phone, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you. You cringed, feeling smaller with each passing second, knowing he was swamped with work and here you were, unable to perform the simplest task of parking a car.

The moment you saw him step out of the building, your racing heart began to slow, his presence alone easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. He approached and opened the driver's door, and you were suddenly spilling over with apologies, the traces of tears still evident on your cheeks.

He looked at you with a gentleness that melted away the last of your defenses, reassuring you with a simple. "It's okay. I got it."

He took your place behind the wheel and parked the car with ease. As you stood there, you realized how his unwavering steadiness had become a pillar you leaned on more often than you'd like to admit. 

As he stepped out of the car, you approached, your voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, and I'm sorry. I know it's such a small thing..."

He gave a slight sigh, one that seemed to brush away your concerns, a hint of a smile in his eyes and said, "There's nothing to apologize for. Don't be so hard on yourself," he reminded you gently, his hand coming to rest on the soft of your shoulder. 

A silent nod was all you could muster as you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, and your nose, slightly pink from the number of tissues you had abused this morning. In a soft plea, you murmured, "Can I have a hug?"

Without a word, he simple open his arms, an unspoken invitation that you immediately accepted. As you nestled into his arms, your body relaxing as you inhaled his familiar scent. A soft sniffle escaped you as Hotch quietly said, "Five senses..."

You closed your eyes and focused on the sensory details--the comforting touch, his reassuring voice, the sight of his concerned gaze when you opened your eyes, the taste of the air mingled with his cologne, and the grounding scent of him. As your breathing evened out, he gently placed his hand on the pulse point at your neck, counting your heart rate in his mind. 

You stepped back, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "I suppose driving school is next on my training agenda?"

Hotch's expression softened into a subtle smile. "I'd agree, considering I just got you that car, I'd prefer it if you got the chance to enjoy it first before crashing it," he teased back lightly. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Promise."

Hotch glanced at his watch, a decision forming in his eyes. "I think I can free up some time later. How about we get you another copy of your book?"

As your smile broke through the clouds of your frustration, it was as if the sun had pierced through the overcast sky of his day, bathing him in a light he never wanted to leave. "Really?" you responded, practically glowing with delight.

Hotch's heart swelled at the sight, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Gently, he cupped your face, drawing you closer to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you, honey," he said, his voice a low rumble.

You giggled, a little surprised by the public display of affection, you blushed, responding with a shy, "Love you too."

[olderthannetfic]

Not gonna lie, sometimes being a writer in my native language feels... isolated and alienating. However not in the 'AO3 stats be low and less than English ones' that maybe one could thought of it at first, no, I know what I am doing writing and posting my non-English fanfics on AO3. I have really good friends and a minor readership that I love.

The isolation and alienation comes from people hating their own native languages and being so vocal (almost proud with others encouraging them) about it. Bet I am not the only who has see this. And I am sorry, but that just feel like hot bullshit. Why do you hate your own language that much? Why do you praise/treat like a better language English and English alone? Why do you say 'ew, a fanfic in my native language!" like that is a completely normal thing to say? I try to come with responses and their logic that aren't plain linguistic colonialism, but I can't. It feels alienating because I see it so. freaking. much. In Tumblr, in Discords, in Reddit, in Twitter, everywhere! Sometimes I have my lows and think 'man am I the wrong here? should I despise my own language, my own (literature) culture? everyone does it'. I respond with a 'no' obviously, since I keep writing in my native language and encourage everyone who approachs me to do it. That still doesn't erase the fact that seeing 'ew fics in my native language sucks!' comments in the wild are pretty demotivating and, to be quite honest, shitty, even if the people doing them aren't from my country.

This kind of feels like a consequence of how... imperialist (for a lack of a better word, sorry) the Internet has become in the past few years. Rather, the whole world, yes; and the Internet is just a part of it so of course fandom got affected by it. If it got affected by this puritanical, bigoted and radfem-y viewpoints, it was just a matter of time for this issue ('fics in English are superior/better in general/better to write/better to got numbers') to chime in. Damned 'globalization'. It was so fast.

--

I hate it. I hate it so much. It's been constant for decades (with the exception of a few languages like Mandarin). English isn't special! Whatever century's trade language can reach more people, but that's it: it isn't more beautiful, historic, nuanced, interesting, worthy, whatever.

And god is English not less cringey and terrible when it comes to words for dicks or squelchy sex noises or whatever else people find terminally embarrassing to write about. We native speakers had to get over it in order to write. Native speakers of anything can do the same!

Though, yes, Arabic-speaking anon from last time, I grant you that some languages' speakers are going to have to invent a whole new era of writing in the vernacular. Go forth. Write your Canterbury tales if that's what it takes.

[razorblade180]

Streamer AU 6

Number 5 <-

Weiss:*rolls into view*….I’ve returned.

Yang:The bitch is back.

Weiss:Wow! Okay, rude. It’s not like I really left. I was in your streams all the time. I just don’t feel like doing my own after missions.

Yang:And yet somehow you still have more subscribers than me.

Photo Bunny gifted 30 subs

Weiss:Oh my gods! Velvet, thank you so much!

Yang:And the rich get richer!!!

Weiss:She says, knowing I’m not rich anymore.

Yang:And yet the money still pours in. Chat, make her play a horror game for being gone for so long.

“Yes!”

“PLEASE!”

“Alien Isolation.”

Weiss:Absolutely not. We have plans already. I’m just waiting for my co-host.

Yang:What am I then?

Weiss:A person who saw me hit the “live” button and immediately hopped into call to call me a bitch.

Yang:It’s in all in good love.

The Reaper: “Ayo! Look who’s back!”

Yang:Ruby, call Weiss a bitch.

Weiss:I’ll un-mod you. I’ve learned to do that recently.

Ruby: *enters call* Oh gods, chat, she’s learning computers. Tech savvy Weiss is dangerous. Who taught her such power?

Weiss:Your girlfriend.

Ruby:Oh, sorry chat. My girl can do no wrong.

Protector of Friendship: “💚”

Ruby:What’s the gameplan today? ��Just chatting?” We can play Uno again.

Weiss:You hate teamwork. I swear you do.

Yang:Sends us on a life threatening mission where trust is needed, just to ruin it a day later.

Thunder Thighs: “How was mission? Everyone okay?”

Weiss:It was just bandits. Lots and lots of them. Unfortunately they ruined a village so most of the expenses went to rebuilding the town.

Yang:Chat, this woman is only on camera right now because her power bill is scaring her. This cute face has a price tag.

Weiss:Hey! I actually missed gaming. It’s oddly relaxing when I don’t listen to Ruby’s suggestions. Or Blake’s.

Ninja of Love: “League actually isn’t that bad.”

Ruby:That’s what I’m saaaaaying!

Yang:Don’t listen to them. They’re ill and can’t be cured.

Weiss:*looks at scroll*…Oh, I’ll be right back. Yang, you’re in charge. *gets up*

Ruby:Why not me?

Weiss:Because Yang doesn’t play League!

Ruby:You two lack vision. The four of us could be our own team! We could grab a few more friends and train for tournaments.

Ren: *enters call* Ruby, you are way too toxic for that. *leaves call*

Yang:Hahahahaha!

Ruby:You can’t just show up to say that!?

Weiss walks back into view rolling a second chair next to her. She’s then handed a coffee cup she gladly sips as she sits back down, all nice and cozy. Sitting next to her is Jaune, chilling in her merch hoodie as he waves.

Jaune:Hello…

“Whaaaat?”

“Oh it’s the guy.”

“Hi Jaaaaaaune!”

“Nerd alert”

“Co-host?”

Yang:I can’t believe you chose the other blonde over me. How cruel. What does he have I don’t?

Jaune:*holds up Kingdom Hearts*

Ninjas of Love: “FINALLY!”

Yang:..I would’ve bought it.

Ruby:Alright, maybe you chose better than Uno.

Weiss:Okay everyone, you can guess tonight’s game. It’s not like it hasn’t won several polls.

Ruby:Oh! Oh! Weiss, sub goal idea! 80 subs and you have to do a cover of the opening!

Weiss:I haven’t even heard it yet!

Jaune:You might like it more than the song from FFX.

Weiss:….

Yang:She’s setting you up for success.

Weiss:…We will circle back to that. Speaking of FFX, same rules apply. I don’t need back-seating from chat. My wonderful co-host here will help manage the stream and aid me with anything I ask.

Blake: *enters call* Jaune, what version is that?

Jaune:It’s from the 1.5 collection, so final mix. Post the patch.

Blake:You’re a good man.

Weiss:Do you want the camera on you or is that uncomfortable?

Jaune:I’m okay. This setup is nice.

Ruby:Questions like these wouldn’t be an issue if you got a VTube model. Penny could hook you up.

Weiss:I only recently learned how to fix normal PC problems. Don’t put that burden on me.

Yang:What does OBS stand for?

Weiss:I saved your life yesterday. What’s your damage with me?

Big Bags & Miniguns: “Is this the mystery boyfriend we’ve been searching for?”

Weiss:Cocoa, you’ve known Jaune forever. He’s always been around as a mod.

Thunder Thighs: “That wasn’t a no.”

Jaune:I literally showed my copy of the game. You all know why I’m here.

Cardinal Pride: “As if she’d date someone as lame as-

Message Deleted

Photo Bunny: “Please remember the chat guidelines before typing”

Ruby:I would’ve blocked him.

Weiss:He gets one more chance. I’m in a good mood.

Jaune:That’s the Kingdom Hearts spirit. *puts disc in*

Weiss:This won’t make me cry like Final Fantasy did, will it?

Blake:Oh….sweetie….

Weiss:*inhales* Great.

Yang:I already made a crude layout for the singing goal. I swear graphic designers should be thankful I like cars and fighting Grimm more.

Jaune:Don’t have any lower goals?

Weiss:I’m 20 away from having to cosplay a character from a game I’ve played. They also get to vote on an emote.

BB&MG: “How many subs for a boyfriend reveal?”

Weiss:…*rubs chin*

Ruby:You’re thinking about it!?

Weiss:I mean I’d have to talk it over with him to see if he’s comfortable with others knowing, but also that goal has to be high enough for Cocoa to be scared.

Jaune:….This game isn’t terribly long, and you have new followers. Personally I’d shoot for no less than 300.

The Monkey King: “Bleed her dry. 350”

BB&MG: “I thought we were friends Sun?”

Weiss:350 it is! After I discuss it of course.

“You’re on!”

“You underestimate our power!”

“I swear if it’s Neptune.”

“Just wait until payday!”

Yang:Like I said, the rich get richer.

[asvtrials]

can you please write a smut story about Bjorn? I loved the one from your master list and your fluff ones were just incredible I really want to give you freedom for this story cause you’re writing style is addictive 🫀🫀 go nuts!!

Bjorn x fem!reader, minors dni!

summary: What started as an attempt to talk yourself out of the scavenging trip, turned into proving to Bjorn that you are not as proper as he thinks. warnings/tags: smut, shotgunning, smoking weed, riding, p in v, swearing, manipulative Bjorn if you squint your eyes, reader is kind of inexperienced, not proofreader, NOT that accurate to the alien timeline a/n: Thank you for the ask! I'm glad you like my writing! <333 w/c: 2.6k words English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistakes I make.

── ୨ৎ

Tyler's words swirled in your mind as you stared at the ceiling of your trailer. Sweat coated your forehead as the endless possibilities of what could go wrong invaded your thoughts the more you tried to relax and go to sleep. 

It hasn't been an hour since you returned from Tyler and Kay's trailer, and you haven't been able to relax.

 You were never the ‘easy-going’ type but to be fair, Tyler and Navarro's plan was beyond reckless and dangerous. It was impossible.

If anything goes wrong you could easily be stuck in Jackson's Star for the rest of your miserable life to mine coal for Weyland Yutani.

That thought really woke you up, any hit of drowsiness disappearing completely. You sat up, rubbing your face. You checked the clock, “1:08”.

It's not that late.

Tyler wouldn't mind, would he? You just needed to know some details, and maybe say you can't join them.

Yes, that's the right thing to do.

You stood up, throwing on the clothes you previously wore and grabbed your keys before stepping out of your trailer.

The walk wasn't far but you felt guilt the closer you got. You hoped he wouldn't be asleep when you gently knocked on the door.

Part of you hoped he wouldn't answer, maybe then you'd finally do something reckless for once. Before you could finish your thought the door swung up and instead of Tyler you saw-

“Bjorn…Hey.” You muttered as you looked at him.

He stared at you perplexed, cigarette hanging from his plush lips.

“Forgot somethin’?” He mumbled.

“Uh, no. I wanted to talk to Tyler, is he here?” You replied, stepping up the metal steps.

“Not here, sorry to disappoint.” He said but moved to the side to let you in. “Ya wanted him…why exactly?” He asked, his voice gruff and dripping with implication.

You weren't sure if you wanted to share your fears with Bjorn. The number of times that he had made fun of Rain and even you for being reluctant made you somewhat standoffish around him. His loud and hot-headed personality didn't particularly help his reliability.

“What about Kay?” You tried to change the subject.

“With Rain, probably.” He spoke, sitting back down on the couch and blowing off a drag from his mouth.

A string of coughs escaped you when you smelled the smoke, he chuckled lightly. You should've guessed he was smoking weed by the redness in his eyes and his rough voice.

“Right” You muttered awkwardly, trying to clear your scratchy throat. “Sorry.”

“Ya didn't say wha’ you wanted him fo’.” He spoke before you could reach for the door handle.

“Nothing serious, just wanted to ask some questions.” You answered vaguely.

“Mm” He hummed, staring at his blunt before taking a long drag “Sorry to cock-block ya” He chuckled and blowed out the smoke.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “That's not what i-” you tried to defend.

“Relax. I just didn't think ya were like that, that's all.” He cut you off, finally taking his eyes away from his joint and focusing, as much as he could, on you.

His focus wasn't something you felt like you wanted, nor you ever get since you never spent any time alone with him. 

But having his eyes on you was surprisingly pleasant…

“I really just wanted to ask some questions.” You repeated, voice louder this time.

“Okay, bloody hell.” He swore under his breath.

You wanted to turn around and leave but his previous words still played in your mind “And what does “like that” mean?” You asked, accusation evident in your tone “What am I not like?” 

Bjorn sighed irritated. He groaned and some smoke escaped from his nose “Y’know, like a hooking up kinda chick.”

You could feel your anger babbling in your chest “You think I can't hook up with someone?” You retorted.

Bjorn’s glossy, reddened eyes seemed more focused as he slowly dragged them down your figure. “Nah, you can. I just don't think you do.” He murmured, a sly smile spreading across his face. 

The warmness that spread on your face made you feel almost as confused as his words. Especially since his words were true. You never did that sort of stuff. The idea of sleeping with someone you didn't know wasn't something you ever felt like doing.

But his words still pushed you to argue. “You think I'm some goody-two-shoes that has no life?” 

Bjorn didn't answer, just brought the blunt to his lips. He eyed you, shrugging mockingly..

You scoffed, muttering a small “whatever” but once again his words stopped you.

“Here.” 

When you turned you were met with Bjorn extending his hand to you, his blunt sitting lazily between his fingers.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Oh yeh, forgot ya didn’t smoke” He taunted and turned his face away.

“You’re such a fucking ass…” You muttered and walked to him. Before he could bring the cigarette to his lips you snatch it, bringing it to yours instead.

You wanted to believe it was because he was challenging you, underestimating you even but a small part of you knew that now that you got a taste of his attention, you wanted more—no, needed more.

You took a long, deep drag, keeping your eyes on Bjorn’s surprised ones. You kept your cool, the bitter taste invading your lungs but you kept your cough in. You broke when you saw Bjorn's mouth slowly twist into a smirk, a very approving one…

You coughed harder than before, the smoke coming out of your mouth wasn’t helping you at all. Bjorn cackled at your reaction and held your waist, prompting you to sit down.

“Jesus, Y/n” He laughed when your coughing fit came to an end. “I’m impressed.”

“Shut up.” You muttered but couldn’t stop the small smile that crept to your face.

Bjorn brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a slow puff, the same cigarette that sat between your lips moments ago.

You blushed.

The room fell silent but your thoughts about leaving the trailer were long gone. And not only because of the dizziness that slowly made its way to your sleepy mind.

You don't know if it's the substance that infested your mind but your eyes kept flickering back to Bjorn, or more accurately, his lips. 

Your tongue ran over your bottom lip as he opened his mouth and let the smoke escape his mouth.

You didn't miss the way your lips opened slightly to breathe in, letting the smoke explore your mouth. He didn't miss it either.

“Ya know…Ty won't be her’ for anotha hour or so…” He began, his eyes meeting your for a moment before letting them travel down your warm face, stopping at your lips. “If you wanna try doin’ otha things…i can help ya.”

You knew what he meant and for some reason you didn't back down. You didn't slap him and tell him that he's disgusting, neither did you sent him to hell and run off the trailer.

Instead you moved to him, your lips so close you could feel the smoke slowly moving past to your own lips.

You didn't wait for him to make a move. You closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his without much thought.

Bjorn didn't take long to react, kissing back with the force that you lacked. Still, you tried to keep up with his hungry movements as his hands quickly wrapped around your waist.

You gasped in surprise when he bit your bottom lip. Bjorn didn't waste any time to push his tongue past your lips.

Your tongues and lips moved hungrily against each other. His eagerness made you wonder if he had noticed you before you realized.

You shivered when his hands slid under your shirt and gripped the delicate skin of your waist. 

“Bjorn—” You broke the kiss making the boy frown.

You didn't wanna stop but your mind was starting to race, your thoughts coming back, and the fear of regret settling in.

Quickly, you grabbed his hand, attempting to take another drag from the blunt but Bjorn seized his hand back. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” He stopped with a crooked smile. “It's clear you're shit at this.”  Rather, he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, breathing in deeply.

“Stop being an assh—” You began but he silenced you when he grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and you found yourself complying without a second thought.

With a gentle breath, he let the smoke travel to your mouth like a snake, choking you for a second but giving you enough courage to move closer once again, brushing your bottom lip against his before diving in for another ravenous kiss.

Bjorn's hand moves to your hair, wrapping his fist around it and pulling you even closer. You hummed your own hand reaching to cup his face.

The scene was messy and frantic. Lips moving like you were trying to devour each other, hands clawing on clothes and skin like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Bjorn's groans of pleasure encouraged you to let your soft sounds slip past your bruised lips.

Bjorn was the first one to break apart, throwing his head against the couch. “Shit, Y/n” He chuckled lowly, hands lazily roaming your back. 

You didn't say anything, you were too busy staring at his swollen, spit-painted lips. 

He cleared his throat. “You wanna keep goin’ or you want another one” He mumbled, wiggling the blunt between his fingers.

“I don't need it anymore.” You replied and you could see his lips twitch upwards.

Without warning, he closed the gap between you once again, leaning against you while attacking your already bruised lips.

He attempted to lay you down on the couch but you stopped him by tugging at his hair.

He pulled away only to move down to your neck, chuckling between kisses “Wussed out already?”

“No.” You breathed out, pulling at his hair to make him look at you in the eyes. “Maybe I just like being on top.”

With lust-clouded eyes, he smirked. “You keep surprising me, doll.”  A small whine left his lips when you tugged at his hair harder.

You kept surprising yourself too. Bjorn didn't seem to be a careful or attentive lover. He seemed selfish and rough and although the thought made your chest rise and fall faster, you weren't sure if you wanted to leave the pace up to him. Especially with how heightened the unfamiliar drug had made your senses.

To be fair, he looked just as excited to have you on top of him.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, the split second your hands left him felt like pure misery for the both of you.

The drug really made you crazy, right?

Not wanting to let him have the upper hand, you took off his hoodie. Goosebumps covered both of your bodies but neither of you cared, grabbing and clawing at every piece of skin you could reach.

Normally, kissing as sloppily as you did now would leave you disgusted but all you wanted to do right now was consume him whole until you were spent and satisfied.

“Fuck…” he groaned and pulled at his belt, quickly undoing it.

You lifted your body a bit to let him push his pants down to his hips, taking his boxers too. His dick sprung up, settling against his stomach.

You eyed his member as he sloppily kissed your collarbone, but you were too focused on the fact that you haven't really been with many people, especially not people who were…as blessed.

“You gon’ stare for long? I don't mind but you promised me somethin’ else, doll.” He spoke against your neck. Despite his words, you could hear a small hint of pride underlining his tone.

“I didn't promise you anything.” You argued but stood up to remove your pants. You didn't even try to look sexy as you kicked your pants to the side. His hands gripped your thighs as you straddled his lap once again.

He fisted his cock and lined himself against your entrance impatiently. He threw his head back against the head of the couch, a loud moan left his lips at the feeling of his tip sliding oh so easily between your dripping folds,.

“Bjorn…” You mumbled and he looked up at you with a hum. Fuck, he already looked so fucked out… “Condom.”

He froze for a second, seemingly too out of it to comprehend your words at first. Quickly, he started to ruffle through his pockets hastily. 

“Shit.” He swore under his breath. He sighed when he found a forgotten condom in the back pocket of his jeans.

You chuckled at how eagerly he ripped the packaging and rolled the rubber down his length. He winced at the feeling but didn’t even flinch.

“Didn’t know you'd act like such a virgin” You teased breathlessly, your own panting making you unable to look as confident as you would've wished.

Bjorn didn't say anything. He grabbed your waist tightly, his short nails digging into your skin. You yelped but that pain was quickly replaced by the burning of your cunt being stretched as he slowly lowered you onto his dick.

You hissed and leaned closer, pressing his face against your neck, and Bjorn wrapped his arms around your waist tightly.

You moaned loudly against his ear. The feeling of being filled so deeply, so fully was addicting.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, pressing his lips on your skin seemingly unwittingly. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“It has been a while.” You chuckled, trying to get used to his size.

“Yeah. Bet you were waiting for the right one, huh?” He groaned, leaving open-mouthed kisses wherever he could find. 

“Fuck!” You moaned when he thrust into you.

He grabbed your hips, silently telling you to move. You complied, cycling your trembling hips on his cock. 

Bjorn dropped his joint from his hands ignoring how it fell to the ground in favor of grabbing your ass.

Tears collected on your lash line at the feeling of being this stretched. “Bjorn!” You moaned when he moved your hips faster.

“Wanted to do that for so long…” He groaned.

You squirmed and whined above him, not only by the speed at which he forced your hips to move but by his words as well.

“R-really?” You stuttered moving your head to pull at the hair on the back of his head.

“Fuckin’ hell. So fucking hot and you don't even know it” He whispered lowly “Wanted to fuck you the moment Rain brought you here.” 

You let out a moan that sounded more like a sob but that didn't stop Bjorn. He bounced you on his cock like his life depended on it.

He moved closer, seemingly wanting to kiss you but his own moans stopped him. You settled on sharing your choking breaths, wet lips brushing against each other the closer you got to the edge.

Your thighs trembled, attempting to tell him you're close but before you could even begin he quickly slid his hand on your clit, rubbing roughly.

“Go on, cum on my cock, darling.” He nearly growls.

“Please, Bjorn!” You cried his name over and over again until you came with a sob but he didn't stop. Even when you tried to push his thighs down, he kept thrusting deeper into you.

You cling to his shoulders as he came inside the condom with a strangled moan, grasping your ass tighter.

Good on you for trying to set the pace.

You weren't sure what to say but it turns out you didn't need to say anything. Bjorn's lips latched to yours once again, kissing you deeply.

This was definitely not the last time you decided to be adventurous.

[trulybetty]

choices.

pairing: joel x reader word count: 628 warnings: none, just a itty bitty ficlet that we're yeeting out with no edit estimated reading time: 3 minutes summary: I'm procrastinating and Joel is Christmas shopping. ao3: linked

Joel was defeated before he'd even stepped foot in the department store.

The piped in Christmas music was too loud, the place too damn hot and he was staring at the two options in his hands, his brow knit together so tightly you'd think he was trying to solve the mathematical complexity of undoing one of Tommy's equations resulting in an odd number of cuts on a kitchen renovation.

To him, there wasn't a damn thing different between the two dolls—same wide eyes, same ridiculously sparkly dress—but he knew better, he knew his kid. Sarah was seven years old, the kind of seven that noticed everything. She'd never say it, but he'd know it. He just wished he'd paid more attention when she'd been chatting his ear off on the way home from school the other week. His free time was limited and that meant this was his last chance to finish shopping for Sarah.

Joel exhaled through his nose, he shifted the box edges in the palm of his hands, like maybe holding them a little differently might give him the goddamn answer.

You drifted by the aisle again, Ellie's list clutched in your hand. Extensive, and punctuated with her trademark illustrations including doodles of aliens and guitars. You were still scanning for the Lego set she had not stopped talking about for weeks. The kid already had the cunning of a detective. You were starting to suspect the actual set did not exist, just a ruse to suss out whether Santa was truly real or not.

But, as you scanned the shelves, looking for what could be the impossible, you noticed Joel Miller stood still in the same spot you'd noticed him in earlier.

"You're still here?" you asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Joel didn't look up from the dolls in his hands, "What's the difference between Deluxe and Ultimate Edition?"

You stepped in next to him and looked over the options in his hands, they truly were identical dolls and you weren't entirely sure why this had kept him rooted to his spot.

"That one has a red scarf and that one has a blue scarf?" you proposed after a moment of contemplation, "sorry."

Joel huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he nodded to the crumpled note in your hand, "At least yours gave you a list. Sarah just mentioned this in passing on the way to school: 'Dad, the Snowflake Doll is the best one, and the other one is lame'." He held both boxes up for inspection, "Now we've got Snowflake Deluxe and Snowflake Ultimate."

He gave a quiet sigh and slipped the 'Deluxe Edition' under his arm and returned the other to the shelf. Maybe Deluxe was better than Ultimate, at least sounded better. He knew Sarah would say nothing if it were the wrong one, she was that kind of kid. But he had to pick something, time was not on his side.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure Ellie has made up this Lego set as a means to find out if Santa is real."

Joel snorted, he was familiar with the young girl, Sarah and Ellie becoming thick as thieves despite their polar differences since you and your niece had moved to town during the summer.

"Well," he said, checking his watch, he was running late, "good luck with your Lego search. If it doesn't show up, just tell Ellie Santa got stuck in customs."

You smirked at the idea, knowing Ellie would love this plot twist, "Might just do that, thanks Miller," you said, taking off to scour the aisle once more, missing the beat or two Joel took to watch you before he set off for the checkouts.

[imtryingbuck]

From Then To Now

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: When Steve and Y/n takes the next step in their relationship he thinks about the day they met.

Word count: 883

Warnings: fluff. smidge of angst. 

Masterlist

Steve had a habit of overthinking things ever since he was just a young scrawny boy who couldn’t run down the street without wheezing and gasping for breath, his overthinking tendencies haven’t changed unlike his body and health. Always overthinking and worrying about the smallest things.

Like right now he paces back and forth, up and down, around the bed and every now and again he would lightly tug at his hair. He knew himself that he was overthinking things once again but he just couldn’t help it. The thought of things going wrong had his mind racing, trying to think of all the ways he could fix each scenario that could happen.

He finally had something good in his long existence that he did not want to mess up, he was finally happy and he wanted that happiness forever.

“Stevie are you ready?” Oh the way his heart fluttered hearing the voice belonging to his other half. “Steve?”

“Yeah… no I’m not ready, sorry love”

“That’s okay, I can help you if you want?” He’s always loved that about her, no matter what or who you are she would help you. That’s how they actually met.

Four years ago Steve and the rest of the Avengers were downtown fighting against the aliens that were destroying their city. It was chaotic. The terrifying screams of civilians rushing and shoving each other trying desperately to escape, the loud screeching from their enemies, the surrounding buildings being destroyed and crumbling down around them.

Steve’s eyes bounced around the area trying to find a way to get the upper hand when his eyes land on a woman running towards one of the creatures who had its back to her. His first reaction was to frown, it was just him and his found family that were crazy enough to run towards the fight whilst everyone else ran away so why on earth wasn’t she? He watched as she picked up the bumper of a wrecked car, pulling it back and swinging it, striking the creature in its side getting its attention on her, she stumbled back as it came towards her just as he went to throw his shield she shocked him again by raising the bumper above her head bringing it down on the creature’s head. And again. And again. And again.

Once it was finally down and no longer moving she ran over to where the alien was going over towards, his heart clenched when he saw her picking up a little child. Steve could hear the little boy crying for his mommy and the woman telling him that she was going to take him to her.

It wasn’t the last time he saw her that day, no he found her after they defeated the enemy, she was tending to the people who had been injured in the attack.

“H-hi ma’am” he stuttered out behind her.

“Hi? Oh, Captain America, hi!”

“That little boy? From earlier, is-is he okay?”

“Thankfully he wasn’t injured, I found his mom they got separated when everyone started running. But I’m happy he’s okay”

“Is he your nephew or something?”

“No, I just saw him crying on the ground and that thing trying to get him.”

“You’re a good person.”

For the rest of the day Steve stayed by her side helping with the clear up, they laughed and joked about everything and anything Steve appreciated that she took his mind off of things that happened only a couple of hours prior. Just as she was about to leave Steve shyly asked for her number.

After weeks of texting back and forth each smiling and giggling like schoolgirls Steve gained the courage to ask her out on a date which she replied instantly and eagerly with a yes.

Asking her if she would be his girlfriend was the best day of his life especially when she said yes and then she kissed him.

“Steve?”

Her voice cuts his trip down memory lane off. “Yes love?”

“Are you okay? D-do you-are you having second thoughts about moving in together?”

A year into dating Y/n brought it up to him one night when the were cuddled up in bed about the prospect of him living with her, it made sense since when Steve wasn’t on missions or training he was there at her home. The blond agreed happily.

“What? No Y/n-“

“It-it’s okay if you are-“

“Y/n, love I’m not having seconds thoughts I’m just overthinking about things, but I swear baby I want this” wrapping his arms around her waist he pulls her into his chest, placing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure my love. You want to help me pack the rest of my things?”

“Of course but you’re carrying everything, mister.” Laughing and agreeing with her, they began packing the remaining of his things.

Looking around at the apartment that his things now occupied alongside his other half’s he was watching as she rearranged the photos of them on the shelve above the fireplace.

“I love you Y/n/n”

“I love you Stevie”

He finally found his place in this world, right here in the apartment he now shared with his love, and there wasn’t anywhere else he would rather be.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[mac-n-chees]

man i fucking hate enji todoroki

when i say that i hate endeavor i dont mean i think he’s icky and i dont like him. i mean i dont think he deserved the forgiveness he got im so sorry. for context let’s back things up. the entire todoroki family lore is SO FUCKED UP. the whole “convenience marriage” thing? WHACK. sa-ing rei until she gave him the child he wanted? WHACK. and we don’t talk about that enough! it was rape! he didn’t care about her at all, he just wanted the perfect weapon to beat all might! and then touya’s whole deal? the fact that he was literally self destructing bc he thought he wasn’t good enough? and endeavor never made him feel good enough? he had all the right to become a villain.

and then, shoto. literally alienated him from his siblings so none of them know a single thing about him and vice versa. weaponizing him since he was a TODDLER. and saying he was “tough on him” is a SEVERE understatement, that little boy was thoroughly abused.

and then the aftermath of the whole thing with rei. he traumatized her so bad it led her to BURN HER OWN SON’S FACE. and what did he do instead of reevaluate his behavior? LOCK HER UP IN A MENTAL INSTITUTION. and not because he cared for her health, but because he didn’t want her to hurt shoto again. messed. the fuck. up.

and if yall gonna come in here and say “oh but other characters have been forgiven after their redemption arcs like zuko and regina mills” DONT YOU EVER COME IN HERE WITH THAT SHIT. their entire redemption arc revolved around them making a wrong choice that further proved to them that being good was the right way. they felt severe unease, and like it wasn’t “them”, so to speak, at being inherently “evil” so they CHOSE to convert because being “evil” was not their true selves. they made MISTAKES but learned from those mistakes BY THEMSELVES without anyone else influencing their thoughts or telling them anything. they CHOSE good because the people they cared about were good, and they wanted to be with them. they made a bad choice, yes, but the whole point of the redemption arc was that they learned from it and improved their characters. endeavor did not make a bad choice, he abused actual, living people for many, many, MANY years. it wasn’t a “bad choice” it was a deliberate decision to fulfill his stupid fucking delusions of grandeur.

how are those antiheroes different from endeavor you ask? I WILL TELL YOU. sure, he got a redemption arc, and sure he got forgiven. but did yall notice he only did an effort to do better after he became the number 1 hero? after shoto was in UA and his children were grown? after rei was locked up so she couldn’t tell anyone about what happened? after all might was no longer the symbol of peace? he only made the effort to become a better person once his OWN PERSONAL GOALS were fulfilled. he always prioritized himself. he didn’t learn shit. he’s not sorry for shit. he regrets nothing. he just wants to be perceived as the perfect #1 hero like all might was.

be fucking for real, his redemption arc was NONEXISTENT, and his children should not forgive him no matter how hard he begs. he does not deserve forgiveness. he’s a fucking abuser, rapist, and all around ASSHOLE.

if he has no haters im dead. and if i see even one endeavor ass kisser in the comments, you’re getting blocked idgaf. the fact that you think he’s hot and just because of that he earned his forgiveness will not fly here hoes idc. that man deserves to rot in hell for all he’s done, if he wasn’t (and i cannot stress the “quote unquote” part enough) “attractive” yall would be on the other side. i can’t anymore, endeavor stans gtfo.

[beestriker015]

Winter Schnee x male s/o headcanons

Winter had never expected to fall in love with anyone, but somehow s/o managed to find his way into her heart.

S/o is a huntsman hailing from Vacuo, whom was asked by General Ironwood to work alongside Winter on a special assignment, to which he agreed.

“Hi, my name’s s/o! I hope we can work well together Winter.”

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you s/o. I hope we do well together also.”

At their first meeting, Winter got a very alien feeling when she met him.

“W-what is going on with me? Why do I feel so…warm inside?”

She thinks to herself before shifting her full attention to the task she and s/o were given.

On the topic of their mission, Winter and s/o worked extremely well together, despite the differences in their personalities.

After its completion, they both report back to Ironwood before bidding each other farewell.

“Seems our job is done now. It’s been fun working with you Winter!”

“The feeling is mutual s/o. I hope to work with you again in the future.”

As s/o begins to leave, Winter does something that shocked even herself.

“W-wait s/o!”

“Hmm, what’s up Winter?”

“Would you like to exchange scroll numbers so we can keep in contact?”

“Sure!”

After they exchanged numbers, Winter watches s/o leave with a small hint of sadness in her eyes before snapping out of it.

“Ok, why am I acting like this? I have never been this way with anyone I’ve worked with before, so why is s/o any different?”

She mutters to herself before starting down at her scroll, unaware of the smile that’s slowly beginning to form on her face.

As time passed, Winter and s/o talked whenever they had free time, quickly developing a friendship between them.

That friendship soon started to develop into something more though, as Winter and s/o both realized they were falling in love with the person they considered their best friend.

S/o had very little trouble accepting his feelings, Winter however…

“Oh my Oum, why did this have to happen?! S/o is my closest friend, I can’t be thinking of him this way! S-surely this is just a crush, and these feelings will fade eventually right?”

Unfortunately for her, they did not.

The more time she spent with s/o, both talking to each other on their scrolls and in person, the more her feelings for him grew.

Scared of her feelings, Winter begins pushing s/o away and began interacting with him less and less until she practically started ghosting him, much to his confusion and hurt.

“Winter doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me. Did I do something wrong? I guess she just doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore, and I never got the chance to tell her how I feel….”

He sighs sadly before going to delete Winter’s contact from his scroll, but can’t bring himself to do it.

Winter isn’t doing much better, as she realized that distancing herself from s/o is hurting her too.

“I’m such a fool! S/o probably thinks I dislike him! Out of all the ways I could’ve handled this, I chose the most childish option! I need to make things right with him!”

Not wasting any time, she calls s/o and apologizes profusely, also telling him to meet with her tomorrow to discuss something important.

“Alright, tomorrow I will confess my feelings to him! No matter what the outcome is, this is what I need to do.”

She says to herself before getting ready for bed, not sure of what tomorrow will bring.

The next day, Winter meets s/o at a popular cafe in Atlas and prepares her confession.

“Firstly, I am so sorry for ignoring you s/o, it was wrong and completely immature of me. It doesn’t justify my actions, but the reason for my behavior is that I was scared.”

“Scared? Of what Winter?”

He asks as she looks at him and takes his hands into hers.

“My feelings for you. I realized a while ago that…I love you s/o.”

The young huntsman looks at her in shock for a moment before a smile forms on his face.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I love you too Winter.”

Winter’s heart skips a beat as she smiles back at s/o with a blush on her cheeks before the two share a short but passionate kiss, thus beginning their relationship.

Due to Winter never being in a relationship before, s/o had to be patient with her (much to her appreciation), not that he minded.

Affection tends to be little more than a hug and quick kiss on the cheek while in public, but when they’re alone, s/o and Winter are much more affectionate with each other.

Winter is incredibly touch starved, so she practically melts whenever her boyfriend showers her with love, and tries her absolute best to reciprocate it.

Jealousy is pretty much nonexistent because neither one of them are the jealous type.

Thought if someone openly flirted with their partner, that’s a different story.

S/o would cut in and wrap his arm around his girlfriend, letting the other person know that she is taken.

Winter would quickly appear the person flirting with s/o and passive aggressively tell them that he is her boyfriend and no one else’s, while also shooting that person a harsh glare.

Dates are difficult because of Winter’s service to the Atlas military, but she will make sure whatever time she can have with s/o is special.

Some time into the relationship, Winter brings s/o to meet her sister Weiss.

“It’s nice to meet you Weiss, your sister’s told me a lot about you.”

“Pleased to meet you too s/o. Thank you for being so good to my sister.”

Winter smiles in relief that the two people she loves the most are getting along.

Unfortunately later on, s/o had the displeasure of meeting his girlfriend’s father Jacque.

“You cannot be serious Winter! How could you be in a relationship with someone like him?!”

“And what exactly is wrong with s/o?! He’s the best man I’ve ever known, I’m not looking for your approval!”

“You are a Schnee! Dating someone who’s not in your league is an insult to the company! I will not allow this relationship to go on any further!”

“That’s where you are wrong father. I won’t be a Schnee for very much longer.”

Jacque glares at her with a raised eyebrow.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Winter smiled and showed off the beautiful ring on her finger.

“S/o proposed to me a few days ago, to which I happily said yes. You don’t have to worry about me tarnishing the Schnee name anymore father, because soon I will be a (your last name). Come s/o, it’s time for us to leave.”

She takes her fiancée’s hand and begins walking out of the room with him as s/o looks back at his livid future father-in-law.

“It was…..nice meeting you Mr. Schnee…”

S/o says awkwardly before leaving with his wife-to-be.

“I’m so sorry about him s/o.”

Winter says as she rubs her temples in annoyance.

“It’s fine. You told me this was going to happen anyway. I don’t care if he doesn’t like me, because all that matters is that I’m with you. I love you Winter.”

She smiles warmly and kisses her future husband.

“I love you too s/o.”

The two then share a loving embrace, with Winter thinking to herself how glad she is to have fallen in love with s/o all that time ago.

[reasonsweweresinging]

Dean couldn't believe he was doing this. But it was impossible to resist his kid when his kid was crying, and Chase had been crying for twenty minutes. Chase’s favorite doll, an alien-bird-human hybrid thing drawn up by some kid in another country and created by IKEA that Chase had lost his mind over at the store, was desperately ill according to him and Dean didn't have the credentials to fix it. 

"We have to see Dr. Cas!" Chase cried, beseeching his father to help him get whatever was wrong with Wallace fixed. Dean had no idea where the name Wallace came from, but Chase was insistent that was the damn thing's name. 

It was almost 9 pm on a Sunday night and Dean doubted his pediatrician neighbor two doors down needed an unexpected visit to cure a...Wallace. "Bud, maybe Dr. Cas can't even help fix Wallace. He's not fully human."

"Dr. Cas sweared to me he could fix anything! I know he can fix Wallace, we have to go see him!" Chase’s big hazel eyes, courtesy of his mother and still somehow so similar to Dean's brother, swam with tears that rolled down his cheeks in fat drops. "Please, Dad!"

Dean couldn't resist. He couldn't deny his son. Maybe because he was a pediatrician, Dr. Cas would at least be patient enough to turn them away kindly. His neighbor hating him was a risk Dean was willing to take for his son. So Dean helped Chase bundle Wallace in a blanket, got both he and Chase into their coats, and walked them to Dr. Cas's door two houses over. The front porch light was still on, and through the rectangular frosted glass panel alongside the door, Dean could see other lights were on in the home. Maybe it wasn't too late. While Chase hugged Wallace tightly to his chest, Dean rang the doorbell and hoped once more his neighbor wouldn’t be a jerk for being disturbed so late. 

The lights blurring together behind the glass panel brightened, as if a light near the door turned on. A moment later, the locks on the door turned and Dean took a deep breath. But it was punched out of him the minute Dr. Cas appeared in the doorway. Dean had only caught glimpses of the man in the few months since he'd moved in, but never seen him fully and up close. Chase had talked to him when his mother was dropping him off one evening, as Dr. Cas was returning from a run. Seeing Dr. Cas now, Dean was certain it was because his ex-wife was trying to stop Dr. Cas to hit on him. Dean could not blame her. The dark, wild hair, the bright blue eyes, the full, soft pink lips set against warm skin and dark stubble. He was gorgeous. He was damn near perfect. And he was saying something and Dean was just staring at him.

Dean snapped out of it, just in time to hear the tail end of Dr. Cas asking his son what was wrong in a voice that was too gentle to be so deep and worn. Was Dr. Cas even real?

"Wallace is sick!" Chase cried, shoving the doll in the face of Dr. Cas. "You can fix him, right?"

Dr. Cas looked at the doll, understandably perplexed, then set those incredible blue eyes on Dean. He started to say something but stopped short, staring back at Dean for a long, unnerving moment. Dean felt himself getting lost in those eyes, but Chase crying again beside him kept him anchored to the moment. He cleared his throat, which snapped Dr. Cas back into the present as well. 

"Sorry, Doc," Dean started, "Chase insisted we come see you so you could help cure Wallace." He gave Dr. Cas a small, apologetic smile, ready for Dr. Cas to turn them away with some excuse; it was late and he had any number of things to do, he had a family to tend to, he didn't have whatever tools he needed to help Wallace and they could try again later. Something like that. 

Instead, Dr. Cas gave a small smile and looked back at Chase, taking a gentle hold of the doll. "Well, Chase, you did the right thing. I can help Wallace, but you're going to have to be my nurse, is that okay?"

Chase looked up in awe at Dr. Cas and gave an eager nod. "I can help! I'm a good helper!"

Dr. Cas smiled wide, his gums showing, nose wrinkling, and Dean felt his heart stutter. "I'll bet you are. With your help, I'm sure we'll make Wallace all better. Why don't you do me a favor and take Wallace inside. If you go straight back, you can wait with him on the couch." 

Dr. Cas gingerly handed back Wallace to Chase, and with a loud "Thank you!,” Chase ran into the house and, as Dean noted, peeking around Cas to watch him go, followed the directions and ran straight back. 

"I'm Castiel Novak," Dr. Cas said, extending hand with a little smile. 

Dean took it and gave it a firm shake. "Uh, Dean. Winchester. That's my boy Chase. Sorry to just interrupt your night like this. Please apologize to your wife for me "

Dr. Cas tilted his head to the side, that soft smile still on his face, curious. "No, no wife," he said with a shrug. "Or husband."

Enlightenment dawned on Dean's features and that last little statement had his brain running a mile a minute. "Oh. Sorry, didn't mean to assume."

"It's fine," Dr. Cas assured him. "Please, come in. I'm sure Chase is growing antsy. Has he told you any of Wallace's symptoms?"

Dean, stepping inside, paused at the question, at the genuine way Dr. Cas was regarding him, waiting for a response. He wasn't just humoring Chase, he seemed to be genuinely trying to help fix a weird, stuffed doll. Dean couldn't decide if that made the guy a weirdo or an angel masquerading as a doctor. 

Fully inside, Dean waited for Dr. Cas to close the door and began to follow him back towards Chase. "He said something about Wallace having fireskin and a knotty belly."

"I see, that does sound serious. But I'm sure with Chase's help, we'll get Wallace fixed right up." Though his tone was genuine, there was still a curl of a smile on Dr. Cas's lips. "Does Chase have an active imagination?"

"Crazy active," Dean said with a hint of mirth. Chase was always battling some evil or winning some championship or saving some planet from destruction; usually Dean was the evil, the loser, the destructor that needed defeating, but every now and again he got to be his kid's sidekick, and those were the best times. 

"That should come in very handy," Dr. Cas said as they neared the living room where Chase waited. Seated on the couch, as asked, his doll held close to his chest, Chase watched them both enter, looking earnestly at Dr. Cas as if waiting for a miracle. Dr. Cas approached the couch and knelt down in front of Chase. "Are you ready to assist me?" he asked. "It's going to be hard work, but I know you can do it."

Chase nodded, the bangs of his sandy blonde hair falling over his eyes. He brushed them haphazardly off his forehead and Dean could only shake his head. "I just wanna help Wallace." 

It was decided Dean had to wait in the waiting room (the living room) while Chase and Dr. Cas used the operating room (the kitchen), just to Dean’s left and a few feet above. Dr. Cas helped Chase prepare by cleaning the counter with him and washing their hands, while gently and easily explaining the need for cleanliness, not just in surgery, but in life. They laid Wallace out on the kitchen counter and Chase was just tall enough to help without needing something to boost him up.

Dean did his best to play up his worry, especially when Chase looked over at him. But he was mostly watching Dr. Cas, mesmerized. While he was in control of the happenings, every choice they made was made by Chase through a series of related questions from Dr. Cas. That night, Chase wasn't saving a planet or scoring the final points to win it all, but he was still a hero. 

When it was all said and done, when Wallace's fireskin had been cooled and his knotty belly untangled, both Chase and Dr. Cas came to share the results with Dean. Dean hammed it up a little in his relief, but his effusive praise of his son's ingenuity and quick-thinking was genuine. And he noticed Dr. Cas seemed to be watching him now, much the way he'd been doing with the pediatrician earlier. 

With Wallace bundled back up tightly in his blanket and feeling much better, Chase was in a hurry to leave so they could read a book and get all the rest that Dr. Cas said Wallace would need to help him recover. Dean got both he and his son back into their coats and Chase led the way to the door, Dr. Cas following them all. 

"Thank you," Dean said quietly, so that maybe only Dr. Cas could hear him. "I hope we didn't ruin your night."

Dr. Cas just gave him a smile and shook his head. "On the contrary, you livened it up quite a bit."

Reaching the door, Chase turned and threw his arms around Dr. Cas's waist. "Thank you for helping Wallace."

Though surprised at first, Dr. Cas's face melted into something softer, and he ran a hand over the back of Chase's head. "I could only help because you were such a great nurse. I hope you and Wallace have many happy days together."

"We will!"

With a chuckle, Dr. Cas reached for the door handle and opened the door, and Dean realized very suddenly that even though he had barged in on his poor unsuspecting neighbor with a crying child and a weird doll, he was disappointed they were leaving. 

Following Chase out the door and echoing the same quiet good night Dr. Cas gave them, Dean paused. He turned, looking back at Dr. Cas who had not yet started to close the door. "Is uh, there any way I could maybe take you out for a drink one night? You know, to say thanks." 

The smile that curled onto Dr. Cas's face was slow and maybe even a little shy, but his features were alight, as though maybe he was glowing. "How about you just take me out for a drink, no thanks necessary?"

Dean grinned, nodding. "It's a date."

[mightyflamethrower]

Democratic strategist and CNN contributor Julie Roginsky said Thursday on CNN’s “Newsroom” that her party cannot speak to “normal people,” stating that it was “not the party of common sense.”

Roginsky said, “You know, I’m going to speak some hard truths to my friends in the Democratic Party. This is not Joe Biden’s fault. It’s not Kamala Harris fault. It’s not Barack Obama’s fault. It is the fault of the Democratic Party in not knowing how to communicate effectively to voters. We are not the party of common sense, which is the message that voters sent to us. For a number of reasons, for a number of reasons, we don’t know how to speak to voters.

When we address Latinos — and language, and language has meaning — we address Latino voters. as Latinx, for instance, because that’s the politically correct thing to do, it makes them think that we don’t even live on the same planet as they do.

When we are too afraid to say that, ‘Hey, college kids, if you’re trashing a campus of Columbia University because you aren’t happy about some sort of policy and you’re taking over a university and you’re trashing it and preventing other students from learning that that is unacceptable.’ But we’re so worried about alienating one or another cohort in our coalition that we don’t know what to say.”

She continued, “When normal people look at that and say, ‘Wait a second, I send my kids to college so they can learn, not so that they can burn buildings and trash lawns,’ right? And so on and so forth. When we put pronouns after names and say she/her, as opposed to saying, you know what, if I call you by the wrong pronoun, call me out, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” but stop with the virtue signaling and just speak to people like they’re normal. There’s nothing I’m going to say to Shermichael, that I’m not going to say to you, that I’m not going to say to somebody else. I speak the same language to everybody. But that’s not what Democrats do. We constantly try to parse out different ways of speaking to different cohorts because our focus groups or our polling shows that so-and-so appeals to such and such. That’s not how normal people think. It’s not common sense. And we need to start being the party of common sense again.”

Sounds like a few dems got the message. If you think a man can go home at noon, switch from boxers to panties, and come back to work as a real women most people, especially men, are going to think you are nucking futz. They certainly aren't going to vote for you.

[quillsareswords]

A little blurb for me 👉👈 QFWW

What if the boys (Jon & Dami) wanted to make Valentine's day super special but the chaotic duo just make a mess of things but it ends up being even more endearing. Like wanting to bring reader flowers but something comes up and the bouquet never makes it home fully intact. Or breakfast in bed but the kitchen looks like a disaster and one of the boys ends up with Distract Reader But Don't Make It Suspicious Duty™ so that they don't see the mess. Something super cute and chaotic :))

WARNINGS: language, talk of food, mentions of bike crash, 2,000 words of poly garble just for you 😘

See Three is the Luckiest Number master list for more poly fics!

MASTER LIST in BIO

   "She knows something is up." Jon whispers, eyes cutting toward you nervously.

   "Of course she does. You're whispering and looking at her every seven seconds like you're trying to hide something."

   "I am hiding something!"

   "Shh!"

   You look up from your book through your eyelashes. They're right where they were the last time Jon got a little too loud: standing in the kitchen, pretending to make dinner. Pretending, because there's been an empty pot sitting on the stove for ten minutes.

   They've been acting strangely the last few days. Jon more so than Damian. You really hope it's something to do with the upcoming holiday and not something serious that they're trying to keep from you.

   "Everything okay in there?" you call, skimming the page in your lap for the line you left off of.

   "Fine," they respond in unison.

   It's probably fine.

   "This is the exact opposite of fine," Jon hisses. "It was supposed to be here days ago."

   "I've reported it missing and a replacement won't be here for two weeks at best. There isn't anything else we can do about it now." Damian drums his fingers against the counter. "We have to come up with something else."

   Jon bites down on the nail of his thumb. "V-Day is in three days. We have no time."

   "We've overcome worse." Damian assures. Armageddon, alien apocalypse, city-wide bomb threats. Surely they can handle a last-minute Valentine's Day gift, right? "We just need to…get creative."

   Jon's shoulders cave toward his chest anxiously. "Okay, well, I know what she got you, and a macaroni necklace is not comparable."

   Damian, out of the kindness of his own heart, resists every urge not to roll his eyes at his darling boyfriend. "Not that kind of creative," he corrects. "Perhaps instead of a gift, we do something for her."

   Jon's eyebrows raise. Damian senses his skewed thought process like waves in a pool.

   "Food, Jon. We should make her food."

•••

   Damian keeps forgetting to fix his ringtone. It always slips his mind until he’s somewhere in public, like walking to his next lecture, trying to seem imposing in front of his peers with his nice sweater and his heavy peacoat, and his phone starts screaming Lady Gaga’s poker face.

   “...and Baby, when it’s love if it’s not rough it isn’t fun~!”

   He almost rips his pocket open trying to get a hold of the fucking thing.

   “Jon, if you ever touch my phone again-”

   “You’ll torture me and all that extra fun stuff, I know, I know. You have my full consent.”

  Damian rolls his eyes with a huff and ducks away from the main walkway. “I take it this isn’t an emergency, then?” Because, in typical Wayne fashion, it’s always his gut reaction.

   “No…well, I mean, not really.”

   He jerks to a halt. “What? Are you alright?”

   “Yeah! Yeah, sorry, I’m fine, everybody’s fine. But, um…Did you order the chocolates?”

   He shoves out a breath and continues on his way. “Yes, of course. Have they arrived?”

   “Yeah…except, uh, I think you ordered the wrong ones.”

   He stops again. “...What?”

   “These aren’t right. I am, like, ninety percent sure these are not her favorites. Actually, I think she avoids these?”

   “Look at– Was there a packing slip? An order sheet of some kind?” Damian asks, eyebrows pinched.

   He hears shuffling, crinkling. “Uh, yeah, here is it.”

   As Jon rattles off the assortment, Damian’s heart starts sinking. He pinches the bridge of his nose like it might relieve the pressure building behind his eyes. “Yes. That’s…She hates those.”

   How. On this good green earth. Did he mess that one up?

   Sleep deprivation. It must have been. He ordered it the night Ivy defaced the Wayne Tower by using vines to form a heart and shape I + H through the middle. At least she’d apologized. At least Harley liked it.

   Shit. He’d better check Jon’s too. Milk chocolate, coconut, caramel, right? That’s what Jon’s was supposed to be. Maybe he should have you check it.

   “Is the name on it right?” he sighs.

   More rustling. “Oh. No. It’s addressed to a…Walt Morgan.”

   Thank. Fuck. He's not the third worst boyfriend in the building.

   “Okay. Okay. That’s easy to fix, then. I’ll call them and sort the whole thing out. With any luck, a new one will be delivered the day before.” He’s thinking out loud, already scheming out how to sneak a three foot tall heart-shaped box of chocolates into the apartment and past you. “This is fine.”

   Jon laughs into the phone. “What, like the meme? Are you sitting in a burning room right now?”

•••

   The moment Damian gets home, lecture notes fresh in his mind, Jon meets him at the door.

   "Problem," he blurts. He's holding something behind his back.

   Damian squeezes the strap of his bag. "With?" The League? The Titans? The city?  The world? His family? Jon's family? God forbid, you?

   "The flowers," he answers. His hands move, and suddenly Damian is staring down at the squished, crumpled remnants of a flower bouquet with all your favorites.

  He sighs in relief. "What happened?" He rubs his palm across his forehead and tries to resettle his nerves.

   "I rode my bike home. I hit that stupid bump in the parking garage and it was either the flowers or the groceries, so…” He squeezes a limp petal between his thumb and his pointer, eyebrows furrowed glumly.

   Damian plucks the best looking one of the whole cluster and looks it over. “It’s alright. I’ll call in the morning and order another. You should hide these, though.”

   Jon shrugs. “Yeah. I think the old lady across the hall would like some. I’ll pick out the ones that survived.”

   Damian’s lips curl up at the edges. It's just like Jon to find some act of kindness in a cluster of crushed flowers. “I think that’s a great idea.” He jams the flower back into the middle. His hand comes up to cup Jon’s cheek instead. He presses his lips to his temple. “Well done, saving the groceries. She’ll like the food better anyway.”

•••

   “Jon,” Damian hisses.

   Jon turns around very slowly, eyes wide. His clothes seem to have survived unscathed, but there are speckles of batter across his face. He’s still holding a spatula in one hand.

   He takes a deep breath. “I was gone for two minutes. What happened?”

   Jon smiles sheepishly. “See, I wanted to flip pancakes like you do. Like, without the spatula? You just, like, throw it with the pan?”

   “Right.”

   “Well, I tried it because it looks easy when you do it, but, I…I kind of miscalculated how hard I was supposed to jerk the pan. So it kind of…” he trails off, gesturing confusingly with his hands. Damian quirks an eyebrow, so he points toward the ceiling to clarify.

   Twelve feet above him, Damian finds the pale wet splatter of batter on the ceiling. And on the floor below it, the dry, cooked side of an unfinished pancake.

   “You launched a pancake so high it hit the ceiling?”

   “It stuck for a few seconds. I mean, see, if you think about it; it’s really a testament to your cooking skills. Right? The batter was just…that good.” He grins convincingly. Dirty little suck up. Those puppy dog eyes may work on you, but they rarely do on Damian.

   Rarely.

   Damian stares down at the ruined pancake still leaking uncooked batter, grossly lumpy with chocolate chips. It’ll be a pain to clean later, so he may as well get it done with. He might as well wipe down the counters, too…

   He looks to the rest of the kitchen while Jon starts unraveling some paper towels. “Jon.”

   The man in question glances at him as he crouches to start scooping up his failure. “Hmm?”

   “What have we done to the kitchen?”

   “What do you mean?” Jon mumbles, turning toward the counters, “I was kind of cleaning as I went…oh.”

   They may have had a little too much fun making breakfast. Chocolate chips spilled across the counter where Jon was measuring with his heart. Dishes nobody thought to do after the movie last night piled in the sink beneath all the bowls and measuring cups from this morning. Half of the pancake ingredients are still sitting on the counter because Jon got handsy when Damian finally made it to the stove top. Flour is dusted around the area where Jon had been mixing everything in the bowl. There’s also batter slopped over a corner of the counter from when he got handsy the second time.

   It’s fine. It’s looked worse. The time you tried to make sushi rolls. The time Jon tried to make pudding-filled cupcakes. The time Jason realized this apartment was a lot closer than the Cave and would mop up better than his safehouse once he was done bleeding all over the place. That time Titus switched foods too fast.

   "She can't see this," Jon whispers. He projects his hearing back out past the living room, listening for any sign you've woken up. "She cleaned Saturday. She will kill us."

   "Agreed. We take this to our graves."

   "Agreed."

   Damian takes a deep breath. Scans the room again. Pulls together a plan. "Can you finish the pancakes?"

   "I'll burn them. Don't look in the microwave. I'll start cleaning." As if to cement this, he ducks around Damian to get under the sink for the cleaning supplies.

   Damian glances warily toward the microwave. He decides his mental health is more important than seeing what's inside.

•••

   For the first time in a long time, you wake up to an unexpectedly cold bed.

   You stretch out, sleepily thinking you must be mistaken. Maybe you just aren't quite used to the California King upgrade. You roll onto your back and sacrifice your remaining body heat to search for a new source to leech from. You're surprised to find the end of the mattress on one side and the edge of the comforter on your other.

   Odd, considering everyone took Valentine's Day off from everything, and they'd begged you to sleep in the middle last night so they could both reach you. There weren't any agreed upon plans this morning, and none of you bother to crawl out of bed if you don't have to. Lazy mornings always find at least two of you in bed, staring at screens or book pages, waiting on the last to wake up. Some mornings, you don't even get up then.

   Which means there must be a good reason they're out of bed and not training to be professional bed warmers.

   You dart upright. You squint against any light struggling through the blinds. The room is just as it was when you went to bed last night; yours and Jon's clothes spotting the floor, Damian's laptop is closed on the nightstand by the door, Jon's phone is still charging next to yours on the other nightstand, the blinds are still half closed.

   More importantly, the locked drawer in the bottom of the dresser is still closed. Which means there wasn't any super-sneaking. 

   "Boys?" you call.

   "Stay there!" Jon's voice rings through the door from down the hall.

   "We're coming to you!" Damian adds.

   You rub a knuckle into your eye. "What're you doing?"

   "You'll see," Damian answers, closer now. Then he's whispering, "Jon, get the–"

   "I can't, I'm carrying two–"

   "Okay, fine, just put your hand here– no, there. And I'll–"

   The door creaks open, and there they stand, your heroes: both wide-eyed, Damian with a long white tray, and Jon with three mugs and a bottle of syrup balanced in two hands.

   Damian smiles widely. "Happy Valentine's Day, Beloved."

   Jon grins and practically skips into the room. "We made your favorite," he sings.

   You scoot closer to the headboard to make room. You laugh breathlessly. "What?"

   Jon sets two of the mugs alongside the phones, and pushes the other into your hands as he climbs into bed beside you. "We got you something really good, but there were some, uh…complications." He glances at your other sweetheart for confirmation.

   The man in question plants his knee on the bed before he leans over to pop the legs out to set the tray over your lap while you hold your mug out of the way. "It's delayed. You'll have it soon, but we thought we should make it up to you." Once the tray is sturdy, he climbs in on your other side.

   "Are you telling me I get breakfast in bed and a gift?" your smile turns suspicious. "Sounds an awful lot like I'm getting buttered up for something,"  You glance down at the spread that's been placed before you, "...just like these perfect fucking pancakes, good god!"

   Damian chuckles, leaning back into the pillows so he can stretch out a little. His arm reaches past you, resting against your back while his hand finds a spot on Jon's shoulder. "Perfect sounds dramatic, but thank you. I did have a lovely assistant."

  "Is that right?" you shift your attention to Jon.

   He smiles sheepishly. "I mean, I didn't much–" He stops short when he blinks and suddenly your nose is a few inches from his ear.

   "Shut up and take some credit, baby." You clip your bottom lip between your teeth as his cheeks bloom pink. You release it, only to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."

   You give him a breather so you can lean the other way and bestow the same thanks to Damian. "And you, deary."

   You melt a little at the way he smiles up at you. It's all warm and tender; a side of him only these four walls and two sets of eyes get to see. "You're very welcome, Love."

   Jon's head meets your shoulder as he reaches for an orange wedge from Damian's end of the tray. Well, the end closest to him. It's arranged more like a buffet than a set table.

   "You tired, honey?" you chuckle, setting your hand on the side of his head, smoothing your thumb over the beginning of his ear.

   "Mhmm. Worth it, though."

   "How early did you get up?" Your smile fades a little. "How long have you been unsupervised in the kitchen?"

   He stiffens against you. "Huh? I dunno what you mean. What are you talking about?" He jumps when Damian pinches his arm."

   You turn slowly toward the other one. "Damian. Is my kitchen a mess?"

   He stares up at you, suave as ever laying among these pillows, one arm tucked behind his head and the other laid out behind you. "Would I ever allow such a thing to happen? On a day of love, no less?"

   "That's not an answer and you know it."

   His eyes cut beyond you, to something Jon does, or maybe to encourage him to do something.

   Your eyes narrow on him. He's guilty, you know that much. He's bad at hiding it from you, or Jon, because he doesn't like hiding things from either of you. Which means the kitchen is probably a complete wreck…but fuck it; it's Valentine's Day, and the loves of your life have made an amazing breakfast in bed to share. You'll fix the kitchen tomorrow. Or the next day. Maybe the next.

   You pretend to think about a little longer than you really do. He watches your face all the same, even if he knows you're making a show. Finally, you take a sip of your coffee. "I suppose that you can be forgiven. For the sake of the holiday. And because you made me chocolate chip pancakes, but I'm considering that cheating, so…"

   Jon's head is back on your shoulder. "So?" You can see the puppy dog eyes in your peripheral. You can feel them heating up the side of your face—so much so that you wonder if he's utilizing a tiny fraction of his laser-heat-whatever vision. Not today, Satan.

   "So, let's eat this food while it's warm and pretend the kitchen doesn't exist."

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

This is gonna sound absolutely bonkers and freaky but bare with me. I always say like theres 3 types of Yanderes fr

1) you got the one that would rather cut their darling open and burrow inside of them (not literally but like figurative)

2) the type that would cut themselves open and would want darling to live inside of them

3) and finally the type that would sew darling to their side or whatever

I would think that Yves would be option 1 mainly because I feel like he would take great satisfaction in literally living inside of his darling, like the amount of things he could observe with hearing and feeling the bodily functions of his darling around him, would probably be the most succulent brain food to him. Like he’s living in his hyper fixation. Probably his own personal heaven when you think about it. Your post about Inside Out really solidified this for me.

Blanche would be option 2 or 3 mainly because his possessiveness. Like he doesn’t want darling to go anywhere that is outside of his home and finds the most happiness with being only being with his darling. His darling is his one and only true friend that he wants to keep forever and forever and prefers to isolate them within the house.

Leveret, we don’t know much about him but I wanna say he gives off option number 3. I feel like he likes to poke and prod at his darling physically so they would need to be whole next to him for him to properly do so 🤔

Cyprus and Monty also gives number 3.

Alien Cowboy Yan from Language Barrier gives 2. Mainly because Blanche kind of reminds me of him in terms of territorialness of it all. How he acts around those who are around his darling, always wanting his darling to be kept in the home and within arms reach as well.

I love your writings fr and sorry for my weird ramblings fr fr

ur weird ramblings highkey slaps and is a banger my dude, pls don't be shy ramble som more 🙏🙏🙏

yes you are right, Yves is having a field trip if he could just live inside you, to know how it feels and to see the world through your eyes. Like its his only wet dream and if he has a dream like that, he would wake up sobbing because he wanted it to be real so badly, a treasure trove of data all gone because it was only a dream

You're pretty accurate for Blanche too, he is protective and super possessive, although he does enjoy documenting your habits from time to time, but the most important thing to him is the bonding and relationship you and he share. and the fact that you are all his, he would rather cage you up, rob you of your free will and make you a personalityless zombie than let you be 100% free to see how you would react to certain circumstances on your own

Cyprus and Leveret does like poking fun at you, they would like to have you separate to them, they like seeing you all flustered up and shy, all cute and small. They don't want to control you entirely that you become a mere doll, but they don't want to stay in the shadows and observe either, they want a companion with their own thoughts n feelings and they like the thrill of 'taming' and owning you in a sense

Depending whether you're a dom or a sub in the relationship, Monty can be a lot of things

Like if you are a strong character that takes the lead in the bedroom like in it was only supposed to be a one-night stand, He would be territorial and tries to scare off any rivals, but ultimately he is seeking for your approval, you have a leash around him

if you are pretty weak in character like in Best and worst of Both worlds, Monty is still territorial and protective, but he assumes the role of someone who's leading the relationship, kind of trying to tie a leash around you but it isn't too tight, he would be pretty lax with rules and stuff, he is the type that thinks you could do no wrong because you are naive and shit, only thinking that the outside world is tainting you, so he needs to shield you from it while letting you enjoy your life

The cowboy yan 2718 is a mixture of type 2 and 3, yes he wants you to be in the house because that's where its the safest, but he would relent his strictness if you're acting out enough, prioritizing your happiness and safety more than anything else. He tries to keep a leash on you, but he wouldn't tug on it or shorten it IF its also hurting you, he would resort to just chasing you around,,, but given the chance, he would like you to live inside him so you would be safe and protected, but you wouldn't be happy and that's a problem for him

[fictionkinfessions]

Oh yeah the internet is safe for us now. I'm not even on the run guys what is wrong with me (it's the lack of alien superpowers. 100%)

I don't have a whole lot to say because source is a dying fandom and I feel like I just got here but, hey, I'm still around. Missing everyone because wow I got used to the company (though I also miss everyone who died for our cause. That wasn't your fight most of you were human kids. I'm sorry I couldn't help)

Anyway if by some miracle the rest of you are out there I'd like to say hi. We found each other once we can do it again.

I'd make a joke like 'Four seeking [insert number] meet me in Paradise' but if Nine was here he'd totally punch me. Not worth it.

I'm sending support your way everyone. I'll let you play with BK too he'll just take some convincing.

2

[dr-futbol-blog]

The Brotherhood, Pt. 5

We cut to the following day where we find McKay, Allina and Sheppard on an excavation with the others further away. It's not early morning so again, we are missing time from between the two scenes. Maybe Sheppard and McKay discussed it further, maybe they didn't, but here we find Valentino "more on his game". Which is to say, seemingly crashing and burning.

The previous night, McKay accidentally let it slip to her that they are not Atlanteans or descendants of the Ancestors like she had thought, but that they had come from Earth only a little while ago. Or he just straight up told her the truth, never having intended to lead them astray. Either way, it's this discovery that has changed her disposition toward McKay, not anything he did or is doing here.

As mentioned previously, her whole life has been dedicated to the service of the Ancestors and it seems like it was as the representative of Atlantis that she was crushing on McKay, not as an actual human being. Given that she got a version of Best Behaviour Rodney, she doesn't even really know what he is like. And now that it appears these newcomers have just taken on the mantle of the Ancestors undeservingly, she's not as keen on him (she, of course, does not know that Earth is the First World from which the Lanteans had originally come to this galaxy and to where they eventually returned so there is an argument to be made for their rightful inheritance of Atlantis, but that's besides the point).

The mainstream interpretation is that McKay is trying to score now that he thinks Allina wants him, the incorrigible hound dog that he is, and that Sheppard is watching him crash and burn from the background to amuse himself. Sure, Jan. Sure.

He might be failing because he is simply inept at talking to women and doesn't know what he's doing, but alternatively he's failing on purpose. And if he's failing on purpose, there might be any number of reasons for it, starting from the fact that she's an alien from an underdeveloped society, they're on a job that's pretty important and it would be morally dubious to start romancing what is actually pretty close to being an alien priestess, as he himself pointed out just a while ago. To belabour a point, McKay displayed zero interest in this woman the day before when they spent all of it on a dig together. She barely interested him enough to look at her. He had to be told that she has a crush on him. He had to be told what to do about it. It's much more likely that his attempt to engage here was designed to fail, whether on purpose or subconsciously. And looking at the dialogue, on purpose seems to be the name of the game.

McKay has obviously chosen a moment when they have some privacy to initiate this discussion. And Sheppard's presence, to him, seems to count as having privacy. It's either that he wants and prefers for Sheppard to be there, or he does not mind that Sheppard is there. Either way, Sheppard seems real interested in how this is going to go down. He's clearly willing to jump in as needed even if you interpret him as just wanting McKay to strike out because he's being a dick, or what ever the mainstream interpretation is. Fact is, what they're doing on this planet is way too important for Sheppard to be dicking around just 'cause, so it's much more likely he is doing this for an actual reason like to help the man who asked for his help last night.

McKay and Allina are looking over the stones:

Allina: It doesn't look much like a map. I guess I was wrong. McKay: Mm, possibly. Although, um, well, you know, just because you originally thought it was a map doesn't make your initial assumption bad or incorrect. Well, incorrect, yes, but it was a good guess. Allina: I'm sorry? McKay: You're… very, very smart, and, uh… and attractive and whatnot, and, um… You've got a lot of things going for you even when things don't— Allina: Is everything all right? McKay: Everything's great. Everything's really… Why wouldn't it be?

She's pretending like she hadn't been throwing herself at him previously. It's not in response to his approach, it's in response to his accidental confession last night. But the thing is, McKay isn't even hitting on her. He calls her attractive and smart, yes, but that reads a lot more like someone trying to let a person down easy. He tells her, you've got a lot going for you. He is trying to be kind. Yes, he's embarrassed to be doing this because having this kind of conversation is mortifying (and were it not for Sheppard, he wouldn't be doing this; and that's a fact regardless of how you interpret their relationship). He also doesn't actually think she's smart, not in the way that matters. For one, we can compare this with him finding out about Sheppard's Mensa test later. Sheppard being able to solve a puzzle that he couldn't means something to him.

He looks at Sheppard as he's trying to think of what to say to her. To make sure he's not watching him making an ass of himself? Maybe. But he has to look at Sheppard before he can come up with something to tell her. He glances at Sheppard, and then comes up with "You're very very smart, and attractive".

Both are things that Sheppard is, very smart and attractive. John Sheppard has a lot of things going for him. Why do you have to look at your man to be able to come up with something nice to say to a woman? Besides which, they look awfully similar.

And further, we've seen how he behaves around smart women. The smarter they are, the more condescending he is. If he thinks that you are smart, he will try to make you feel dumb because he has poor self-esteem and because intellect has been his battle field. It does not seem like he comes from a wealthy family which means that he has had to fight to earn his place in Academia. He has had to prove that he is the smartest (and hence, that other people are less smart) to get scholarships, to get his foot in the door. He thinks she's smart like a golden retriever, not smart in the sense that she should ever challenge him in any way that matters.

He just does not care about women enough to see them as distinct personalities that might require individual approaches. He's also saying that her initial assumption, that he would be interested in her, was incorrect. He's flattered, sure, but not into her like that.

Sheppard, who has been symbolically between them the whole time, comes to his rescue. He steps in because he can see by the way McKay is using his hand that he is getting agitated which just, again, is a testament to how well he knows him. And Sheppard gets him off the hook by changing the subject:

Sheppard: You're sure we're in the right place? We've almost doubled the size of the dig site, and we haven't found anything yet.

He's not making fun of McKay. He is playing it perfectly straight, like he saw nothing going on, nothing out of the ordinary. It's all business up in here. And McKay seems relieved because figuring things out, trying to solve something is so much more up his alley--and this is also the reason why Sheppard approached him with a question in the first place. He knows engaging McKay's mind is the best way to help him get over his agitation. We see Sheppard do this continuously, consistently, over the seasons. Here, he's not doing it because they're in some kind of trouble, he's doing it out of kindness.

Relevant to what happens next, we see Sheppard look McKay in the eye and wrap his lips around his canteen while holding it in a firm grip. There are so many suggestive shots in this episode.

They discover an entrance leading underground, a hole in the ground, as it were. McKay is mirroring Sheppard in case anyone had any doubt where his physical interest lies.

What they uncovered is supposed to be the "forbidden chamber" to which only brothers (of the Brotherhood) should enter. That also seems awfully suggestive but the killer is McKay's next line:

McKay: So, who wants to go first? Seems sort of like a Sheppard thing.

Going down first seems sort of like a Sheppard thing. Going down first seems like the sort of thing that Sheppard would do.

Now, the thing is, McKay intends no double entendre, he's not making innuendo. He only means to say that Sheppard is the dashing heroic type. He thinks that what ever is down there, Sheppard would be the best and most capable person there to face it first. He's saying that going down a dark hole freaks him out enough that he certainly does not want to go first, and he would feel much better if Sheppard went in first to make sure that there is nothing dangerous down there.

But Sheppard certainly hears a double entendre. You can see it on his face. We have already seen that he appreciates innuendo (cf. Hide and Seek, S01E03), cannot resist the opportunity to turn something into a sexual reference. Jesus Christ, McKay. They were supposed to be being careful, keeping a low profile. Not making jokes about him eating dick right there out in the open.

He appreciates a good dick pun especially because he clearly likes thinking about dicks (I refer you to the time he canonically cannot take his eyes off of a whale dick pic in Echoes, S03E12) but this is awfully bold of McKay. But note that while he looks up at McKay, he doesn't protest, at all. So he likes dick. So he's enthusiastic when going down on a guy. So McKay knows this about him. He'll go down to the forbidden chamber of the brotherhood first but he probably has to bite down on his tongue not to make a more obvious reference in response. There are times for escalating and this isn't it.

Sheppard is on his goddamn knees while this goes down. McKay makes a reference to Sheppard going down first while the man is on his knees in front of him, looks up at him from that position. So that's a thing that actually happened on this show.

Continued in Pt. 6

[michaelhholden]

Every Taika Waititi film ranked by how much I liked them, while I count down the days to the release of Next Goal Wins (my most anticipated movie of the year!)

DISCLAIMER: I like all Taika Waititi films, so don't get angry at me

7. Thor: Ragnarok (2017)

Fun and colourful, I love Korg, Jeff Goldblum is great, but to me this is just a Marvel movie. Sorry, Marvel fans, this movie was just OK.

6. Thor: Love and Thunder (2022)

More fun and colourful than Ragnarok, loved Christian Bale, loved the kids, loved Jane Foster's arc (I thought it was well handled!). There was a bit too much Korg, I admit. People say this movie had too many jokes and didn't take itself seriously enough. Well, of course it didn't! It's a movie about gods and aliens and stuff in space! Honestly it was a blast and I liked it better than the third one. I said what I said.

5. JoJo Rabbit (2019)

This is a great film, we all know that. It speaks really well of Taika's filmography that it's so down on the list. It was hilarious and adorable and important. I feel like the comedy-drama could have been better balanced, I couldn't fully connect emotionally. Still, it was great and hilarious, the parody aspects were really well done and I really liked it.

4. Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016)

This one is really funny, it doesn't get enough credit for how funny it is. I loved the too leads, especially Sam Neill, I wasn't sure how well he'd fit into Taika's style, but he was fantastic. A really fun film.

3. Eagle vs Shark (2007)

All Eagle vs Shark haters are wrong, this film is great. Lily is the most adorable person, Jarrod is a dick but played with so much love that you can't help but emphatize with him and hope that he gets a redemption. The story was so sweet, I was actually, like, 'awww'ing out lout at times. Also the small town vibes and the awkwardness, and the feeling of having a giant crush on someone you have never really spoken to, it's all so real, I really love it.

2. What We Do in the Shadows (2014)

That I didn't rank this as number 1 is a surprise even to myself. This is one of my favourite movies and maybe my favourite comedy film of all time. I love the show as well, but to be honest I think the film is much much better. It's just- the vibes, man. The documentary aspect is fantastic. Also, Stu.

1. Boy (2010)

This movie feels like being told a secret, it's so personal. It is small and self-contained, but at the same time it creates a world so huge and lived-in that it's hard to believe it wasn't really filmed in the eighties. The kids are adorable, the scenery is so beautiful, the story is so heartfelt and full of emotions it genuinely made me cry (not for anything in particular, just everything had been done with so much love, it made me feel so many emotions and they could only escape through tears). It is Taika Waititi's masterpiece. Where he usually leans more into the comedy, here he lets the seriousness take over when necessary, and it really works so well. I just love this film, it is amazing, go watch it right now.

...and that's it. Taika Waititi is probably my favorite director at the moment, he's got a vision and is very good at realising it. He writes heartfelt and funny stories, likeable characters, amazing dialoge and his films always look very pretty. Totally recoment any of the ones in this list!