#possible repost

[gar-wafflez]

[oldfarmhouse]

https://christiannkoepke.com/2017/12/14/winter

[lurafita]

It's possible that I posted this one already

What about a coffee shop au, where Alec is so mesmerized by the barista (Magnus), that at first he doesn't get a word out. And then Magnus smiles and is like: "What can I get you, pretty boy?" And Alec is so flustered that he just says the first thing that catches his eyes on the menu. He hates the drink. But when he gets back the next day, and Magnus is there and asks if he wants the same as yesterday, all Alec can do is nod, because Magnus remembered him and what he had to drink and called him pretty boy again. Alec ends up drinking that thing he hates a lot. It's not until their nth date/wedding/Wedding anniversary that Alec confesses he doesn't like that drink.

[neworderscans]

Record Mirror interview, 11th October 1986

[missathlete31]

Rumors

Natasha Trace is used to people making assumptions about her. She's a woman in a male-dominated industry. Beyond that she is an elite pilot in a male-dominated industry and judgment is just a part of her life. She's managed it well, all things considering, and learned to surround herself with people who respect her for her talents and intelligence rather than demean her for her sex. Of course Bagman is always good for a disparaging comment or two, but Phoenix has caught him defending her to men who dare to question her abilities when he thinks she is out of earshot, so she knows where his true feelings lie.

Ignoring all the nasty assumptions made about her: sleeping with superiors, hired for optics, among other things, there are some rumors that are just plain funny. Take for example, her personal life. Fighter pilots are notorious for Daddy issues and a lack of settling down (i.e the Roosters and Mavericks of the world). Phoenix herself has never really caught the 'marriage and babies' bug that most other women her age experience, and she's fine with that. Setting down isn't something she particularly avoids, just something that doesn't fit in her life at the moment. It isn't to say it never will though.

There are rumors she is a lesbian, which while are untrue, she doesn't necessary consider insulting. Finding love with a woman, man or any other sexual orientation or preference isn't something that someone should ever be judged for and Phoenix herself would never criticize anyone else's penchants. No, what she finds eye rolling is that a strong woman must be lesbian. That because she flies planes, and wears bulky helmets that mess up her hair, that because she can play football in the sand and not care if she is sweaty or smelly she has to "bat for a certain team." It's silly, archaic and most importantly wrong. Natasha's hobbies or abilities don't dictate her love life and when she finds love, with whomever she does find it with, she looks forward to those rumors finally settling.

But then she will always have her family gossip.

Despite what some might think, Natasha doesn't have any unresolved 'Daddy Issues'. Her father Matthew is a normal dad. Stern in his desire to raise children that worked to do good and be respectful, but also kind in his teachings and loving in his affections. When Nat had shared she wanted to be a pilot, Matthew encouraged it wholeheartedly and he and Phoenix's mother Rosa offered all the support they could to help their daughter reach her dream. Every milestone or commendation, Natasha's parents were and still are always in attendance, both smiling brightly at not just the achievements of their child, but her happiness too.

Rumors say her father is Hispanic (his family was from England actually, where as Nat's mother is Mexican). They say he works on cars or carpentry, or something with his hands. They say he's a man's man, someone who would take a daughter and push her into boy things, but it's the furthest from the truth. Matthew is a quiet man, preferring a book or listening to soft rock music while his wife chatters endlessly in the kitchen. He teaches at a high school in California; English because that was the only opening (though his passion was always history), and he even advises a few of the clubs on campus. He knows nothing about planes, certainly nothing about F-18s or any other fighter jets, and he looked just as confused about Natasha's sudden desire to fly as Nat's mother did. But, like any good parent would, he rolled with. He bought her books about flying when she asked. He parked them close to the airport one day when she talked about watching take offs and landings, and he hugged her the hardest on the day she was accepted into the Naval Academy.

As the years passed, Natasha's father has picked up a few things about his daughter's job. He's learned a few terms, makes sure to always know where she is based out of or what carrier she is on, and he's very particular about knowing the name of the WSO assigned to her. Matthew Trace might not be what the rumors say he is, he can't rebuild a car from scratch or fix a broken pipe (he usually ends up with a concussion from hitting his head against the sink counter too many times) but he is a great father. And though he didn't push her into flying, he and Natasha's mother always made sure their daughter knew that they were with her in the skies; ready to watch her triumphs and catch her just in case she falls.

Beyond the rumors of her father, there is also this belief that Natasha should have an infinite amount of older brothers. She is expected to have been a tom boy growing up, following on little legs after brothers who were taller, faster, and stronger; all of them eventually steering her into sports and planes. The first time Nat and Bob shared their family history, the WSO looked at her funny when she shared about Anna.

"Only one sister?" Bob questioned, a furrow gracing his face.

"Yup" Phoenix nodded, "one older sister, works for an insurance company in Sacramento."

The man turned back to his drink, "huh" he mused.

"What?" Nat couldn't help feeling on the wrong foot. She didn't think Bob was judging her but she couldn't help the sinking feeling that settled in her stomach from his clear perplexity, "what is it?"

"I don't know" he shrugged before meeting her gaze, "I always assumed you had a bunch of older brothers."

He wasn't the only one. The first time Rooster met her family he looked actively surprised when a gaggle of men didn't come bursting from the house. She tried to tell him many times she only had a sister but Bradley still seemed to think she had somehow misled him, expecting Nat to be the influence of someone else. She had been angry for a moment, annoyed at how many people felt she couldn't just love to fly on her own accord and not pushed by outside force.

Soon enough she learned to embrace it, along with all the other stereotypes and conjecture labeled to her.

When she arrives to a fellow pilots wedding in a tight dress and full makeup and hair, stunning the room silent and earning surprised glances from every man and woman, Natasha keeps her head high and walks over to the other Daggers, remembering the hours she spent as a teen watching make-up tutorials because even 'Tom-Boys' like to look pretty.

When she lands a particularly rough tackle in Dogfight football and Yale grumbles about how her older brothers must be so proud; Phoenix laughs as she thinks of the afternoons with Anna, the two of them playing dress up and dolls and having all the fun in the world.

When she changes Halo's tire for her one night and the other woman pouts that she wishes her father taught her this lesson, Nat smiles good-naturally and remembers how her father had waited 2 hours for AAA one time because he attempted to change a tire and lost the lug nuts in the brush on the side of the road.

When she catches Payback reading one of the books in her father's curriculum on the beach one day, she doesn't even hesitate to bring up some of Matthew Trace's discussion points. Reuben chats with her, clearly impressed, and assumes that when she explains how her house is filled with books, it must be from Nat's mother. She doesn't bother correcting him.

And when her family arrives for the Dagger BBQ hosted by Penny and Mav after they all survive the mission, Natasha smirks at the surprised faces of her teammates when they take in her glasses wearing, sweater-covered father, her loud and boisterous mother and her singular female sibling. The rumor mill clearly having never been so wrong.

But that's life isn't it, especially for someone like Natasha Trace. Assumptions are always going to be made and Phoenix is always going to love to prove them wrong.

[servals-dank-meme-machine]

[sweetiepie08]

Rebelz Chapter 5

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

(thought I posted this a month ago, but either I forgot or it got eaten by the tumblr void.)

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

Jerry had just smashed Tom’s foot with a hammer when Dib realized he was watching the robot’s cartoons more than he was watching the house. He’d been staring at these screens all day. Tak hadn't shown up at all. Zim did turn up for a few minutes, but that was hours ago and he hadn't come back since. There were no fights, no screams, no explosions, or at least not that Dib could see. The only noteworthy thing that happened was Zim choking on a soda. Was there really nothing going on?

His eyes drifted to the clock. 6:30 already? He'd just wasted most of his day watching old cartoons through a security feed. His stomach rumbled reminding him he hadn't eaten since noon.

Dib looked back at his monitors. Tom chased Jerry around the room. Jerry ducked into his mousehole and Tom rammed his face into the wall. The robot laughed. Dib’s stomach rumbled again. The idea of a break started to sound appealing.

“Hey Gaz,” he called hitting the record button, “You hungry?”

“Yeah,” she called back.

“You want to order a pizza?” He slid off his chair and started out of the room. “I was thinking we could have dinner while we watched that documentary.”

He headed downstairs and found Gaz in the kitchen. She already had the phone in one hand in the Pizza Factory menu in the other. “I'm thinking Peppers and onions,” she said, not dialing the phone.

“How about sausage?

Her face twisted in disgust. “No pork.”

“Okay, fair enough,” he conceded. That shadow hog thing still weighed on his conscience. “Cheddar cheese? Oh, and get garlic bread.”

Gaz nodded and put the phone to her ear.

Dib smiled. It actually felt good to be out of that room. This break would be good for him. He’d get some food in his stomach and watch something he’d been waiting to see. Then he could get back to surveying the base later. Besides, with the camera recording, he wouldn’t miss a thing, if anything even happened.  After all, he got nothing all day. What could he miss in a few hours?

[-]

Gir laughed every time the cat on TV let out that loud yelp. He liked the yelling. It reminded him of someone. And it was funny.

As he laughed, another robot walked into the room. Gir looked over. A new friend? Maybe. Did master build it? Nah, he would have said something. Wait, he remembered this thing. This was Tak’s robot. What was it doing here? Oh yeah, they friends now. She gave him a present. They must be over to play.

“Want some nachos?” Gir asked.

Tak’s robot lifted its head and looked curiously at the nachos. What was wrong? Maybe it didn't know what nachos were for.

“You do it like this,” he said stuffing a handful in his mouth.

Tak’s robot just stood there. It still didn't get it. “Here, let me help.” Gir got off the couch, walked over to the other robot, and smushed a handful of nachos in its face.

Tak’s robot wiped the nachos away and shook off the remaining cheese. It’s eyes narrowed and glowed red. Oh it looked mad. Maybe it would start yelling at him. But it didn’t.

Oh wait! He got it now! “Hey, you don't gots no mouth,” Gir said, leaning real close to get a good look at the robot’s face. “That's not right. You need a mouth for nachos.”

This was a problem. If it was going to be his friend, it needed a mouth for snacks. “Oh, I know!” Gir screamed. He ran for the trash can/elevator. He'd seen master go down this way earlier. Master could build a mouth. “This way! This way!” He dove head first down the elevator shaft and Tak’s robot followed him.

[-]

“No, it's not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it's not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it's not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it's not! It's not!” Tak shouted. The can in her hand spilled gignzor on the ground as she gestured wildly. “You cannot tell me! You cannot tell me Foodcourtia is worse than Dirt!”

“It is! It definitely is!” Zim yelled back, punctuating each sentence by slapping the computer control panel.

“It's definitely not!” She slapped the control panel as well. “Dirt is a garbage planet made out of garbage! Everywhere you go, it's garbage! Everywhere you look, it's garbage! You close your eyes and, still, all you can see is garbage!”

“But there's no customers! Zim countered, flinging his empty can across the room. “No one screaming at you all day! No one yelling because their order is late, or cold, or they got the wrong thing! No one saying they want blogrings on the side, but they won't tell you on the side of what. But when you guess, they start yelling! And you're trying every side you can think of, but nothing works! And sometimes they still haunt your thoughts late at night!” He grabbed Tak’s shoulders and shook her. “What side did he want, Tak? What side did he want?!” He kept shaking until she slapped him away.

The sound of a “Whee-hoo” came from the ceiling. It got progressively louder until Gir splat-landed face-first on the floor. Tak’s Sir unit slinked gracefully down and landed beside him.

Gir sprang to his feet. “My friend needs a nacho hole,” he said pointing at the other robot.

“MiMi,” Tak commanded, “Get away from that pile of junk.” The SIR unit nodded and slink to her side.

“Hey!” Zim pointed an accusing finger at her. “You don't get to call my Gir junk!”

“Yeah!” Gir screamed.

Tak smirked. “I built Mimi myself out of spare parts and she’s still more advanced than the standard SIR units issued to the invaders.”

“Well I got a mouth!” Gir shot back.

“Yeah!” Zim shouted. “Hey wait, does your SIR unit talk?”

“No,” Tak sighed. “I couldn't find a functioning vocal chip on Dirt.”

Suddenly, Zim’s computer made an alert sound. “Sir,” computer said, “there is an incoming transmission from the Massive.”

Zim's hands flew to his head. “Oh no, the Tallest can't see me drunk.”

“The Tallest can't see me at all,” Tak added.

“Well, get out of frame, then.”

Tak scooped up Mimi and they ducked under the control panel. Zim tried shaking a bit of his drunkenness off. It didn’t seem to do much, but he answered the call anyway. An Irken in a navigator’s uniform appeared on the screen.

“Um, Invader Zim?” the navigator said, putting a strange emphasis on Zim’s title.

“Yeah,” Heh, he said ‘invader’ funny… Wait a second. “Hey, you're not The Tallest. What is this?”

“The Tallest are very busy at the moment,” the navigator replied. “A traitor has been identified.”

“Traitor? Pfft…” Zim waved his hand. “I don't know anything about a traitor, definitely not one with any conspiracies.” I am nailing this nonchalant performance.

“Uh, you wouldn't.” The navigator said, raising an eyelid. “A notice went out to all Irkens on planet or in the Armada. I've been tasked with informing all those out-of-range to be on the lookout for her.” He paused. “What was that about a conspiracy?”

“Nothing. I said I didn't know anything about a conspiracy, remember?” Totally nailing it.

“Yeah, but why would you bring it up in the first place?”

Shoot. He was asking too many questions. Better get rid of him. “Yes, yes. Anyway, I got your message,” Zim dismissed, reaching to cut off the transmission. “I'll be sure to look out for Tak. Now you can move on to-”

“Wait, I never said the traitor's name.”

His hand froze. Fuck “Uh, yes you did.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No. I didn't.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn't!” The navigator shouted impatiently. “And I can playback this conversation to prove it.”

Zim started to sweat as he contemplated his next move. Before he could say anything, however, Gir dove under the control panel.

“Found you!” Gir squealed.

“What was that?” The navigator asked.

“My SIR unit,” Zim answered. “He lost his… uh… contact lenses!”

“SIR units don't wear contact lenses.”

“Your turn to hide.” Gir said. Zim could hear a scuffle going on.

“No, stop.” Tak whisper-shouted. “Stop pushing me, you metallic hunk of-” Tak flew out from under the control panel and landed on the floor with an “omf.”

No, no, no, no, no! Zim slapped a big fake grin on his face. “As I was saying, I'll be on the lookout for that traitor and I’ll get back to you if I see her. Bye!” Zim cut the transmission and the screen went black. He let out a long breath. “I don't think they suspect a thing.”

Tak got up and brushed herself off. She glared daggers at him and snarled, a retort forming on her lips. Before she could speak, the entire base shook violently, knocking them off their feet.

“What's happening?” Zim struggled to stand up, but another shake sent him back to the floor. The base continued to rumble and, with each new quake, the room shrank in size, along with the tech in it.

“You idiot!” Tak shouted, managing to pull herself up. “It's cubification!”

Zim blinked. “Uhh…”

She scowled and rolled her eyes.” When The Tallest believe an invasion has been compromised beyond salvation, the remotely cubify the base, destroying all evidence and crushing any organic matter left inside.”

“I knew that.” Zim jumped to his feet. “Why are you explaining things I already know?”

“You moron, were going to be squashed!” Tak screamed, grabbing the front of his tunic. “And I refuse to let my cells mix with yours!” She threw him down and called, “Mimi!”

Tak’s loyal SIR unit slid up to her side. Mimi saluted, wrapped her arms around Tak, and flew them both up the elevator shaft.

“Gir!” Zim commanded. “Get us out of here!”

Gir bounced up. His eyes flashed red as he gave a salute. He then ignited the propulsion jets in his feet, flung Zim onto his back, and rocketed them up the elevator shaft.

As they flew to the house level, the walls around them closed in at a steadily rapid rate. It became a tight squeeze toward the top. Zim’s waist became stuck in the trash can lid for a moment before he managed to wiggle out.

By the time he made it to the living room, the ceiling was only a few feet overhead. Tak pulled at the doorknob with all her weight, but it wouldn't budge. She let out a cry of frustration and her laser cutters unfurled from her PAK. The lasers on all four tips joined into one large square of energy which blasted a hole in the wall. However, that hole shrunk just as quickly as the rest of the house.

Tak dove through and MiMi followed. Zim looked around for his service unit who was busy giggling and bouncing off of the encroaching walls. “Gir, quickly!” he commanded, pointing to the hole. Gir launched himself through, squealing. Zim followed after, feeling the ceiling brush the tip of his antenna on his way out.

He landed on his hands and knees on the lawn. Once he gathered himself, he turned to watch as his beautiful base crushed itself into a cube about the size of an Urth child’s alphabet block.

Zim’s mouth hung open. “Six years on this miserable ball of filth,” he murmured, scooting up to the teal cube on his knees. “Now look at you.” He flopped face-first on the yard and made pitiful noises. Gir sat down next to him and patted him on the back.

“Get over it, Zim,” Tak grumbled, activating her human disguise. “At least you still have a ship. Mine’s crushed in there with everything else.”

“Everything?” Zim snapped up. “Wait, where’s Minimoose?”

“NYAH,” Minimoose squeaked as he floated into Zim’s line of vision.”

Zim jumped up and threw his arms around his creation. “Yeah! Minimoose! I knew I shouldn't have to worry about you.”

“Quit hugging the moose, Zim,” Tak snapped. “In case you haven't noticed, we have a real problem here. We're stuck on this dirtball with no shelter, no resources, nowhere to go, and we're out of gingzor.”

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” Zim retorted, stomping up to his ship. He reached in, pulled out a spare dog suit, and flung it out Gir. He then began applying his human disguise and he continued. “My base would be fine right now if they didn't catch you hiding out in there.”

“Well they wouldn't have caught me if you could control your sorry excuse for a SIR unit,” Tak shot back.

“Hey!” Zim jumped down from his ship. “Gir is a specialized unit! Operating him takes a deft hand. Simply shouting out commands won't do.”

“why? because then he'd work properly?” Tak smirked.

Zim let out an exaggerated gasp. “How dare?! I just lied my butt off for you and you repay me by insulting my Gir?”

“Oh yes,” she scoffed, “thank you so much for blurting out my name before they even told you who the traitor was. You are a true master of deception.”

Zim put on a smug, mocking grin. “You're welcome.”

Tak growled and kicked nearby rock into the street. After letting out an huff, she turned back to him. “Well, you've been on this planet longer than any other advanced species. Where is a good place to lay low?”

Zim thought about this as he picked up the teal cube and turned it around in his hands. His base wasn't completely destroyed. Everything shrunk as it was being cubified. Perhaps it was all still in there. If he could reverse the effect… “It'll have to be a place with access to a lab. With the proper tools, I could possibly find a way to get my base up and running again.”

“Oh! I know! I know!” Gir squealed, jumping on Zim’s back.

“No, Gir. We're not doing that.”

“But… but…”

“No, Gir,” Zim said again, crossing his arms. “I won't allow my pride to sink that low.”

“But we've done it before,” Gir pointed out.

“Hmm? What's he talking about?” Tak asked sternly.

“Doesn't matter.” Zim answered, waving a dismissive hand at her. “It's not an option.”

“Yes it is,” Gir argued.

“Zim…” Tak growled, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up to her eye level. “Where is it?”

[-]

Gaz flipped open the pizza box and steam rose off the hot, fresh cheese. Dib reached into the takeout bag. The garlic bread was still hot, too. He bit into a slice, enjoying the warm, steamy goodness and hoping the documentary wouldn't bring up any cow disembowelment's while he was eating.

This was shaping up to be a pretty good evening. Good documentary, good food, and he and his sister were just chilling together. There were no fights, no aliens (except the ones in the documentary, of course), no plans for world domination, no nothing. Just pizza, sibling bonding, and the dulcet tones of the narrator explaining bizarre happenings in Utah.

Gaz was right. He needed to take breaks more often. In fact, he was pretty content to spend the rest of the night relaxing. He could do without dealing with Irken nonsense for one night.

[various-stormsnsaints]