it's sparky!

little update to make sure everything is clear for people: yes, this blog is finally gonna be posting again lol. hopefully regularly, but asks won’t be opened yet. there are still 150+ messages to get through in the inbox and that’ll take some time. so hold onto your ask ideas! 

new episodes for the show start Nov. 17th. we’ll try to have asks open again by then.

thanks for sticking around with us!

anonymous asked:

1. They are on their third emergency of the week (some days she swears John’s team should stay locked in a room and life would be easier for everyone), and so it takes until mid-afternoon until Elizabeth realizes that it’s her birthday. The realization is marked with a pause and nod, but McKay is in the infirmary, John is seething with anger over how his team was betrayed on a supposedly friendly mission and she has to deal with a diplomatic crisis which involves playing nice to a pompous ass.

Hours later, she is feeling marginally better after being informed that McKay is improving rapidly. But her desk is taunting her, covered in piles of paperwork detailing the previous two crises. Her eye twitches as she imagines what hellish documentation will be produced from this latest round. It isn’t about to magically complete itself however, so she sits down with a groan, dragging the nearest stack towards her and resisting the urge to lay her head on it and just go to sleep.

‘That can’t be a very fun thing to be doing on your birthday.’ A voice disturbs her train of thought, and she blinks rapidly for a moment before her brain catches up. John is leaning against the doorframe, his face mottled with bruises from the recent skirmish and his hair sticking up wildly in all directions. ‘Excuse me?’ she finally responds, and sees him smirk at her confusion. ‘Your birthday,’ he repeats, limping towards the chair opposite her desk. ‘Paperwork. Not fun.’

She shrugs in response, watching as he lowers himself gently into the seat. ‘There’s rather a backlog,’ she explains, gesturing around her tiredly. ‘Has to be done.’ Her eyes land on her empty coffee mug, and she is mid-calculating the effort and time it would take to go get a refill when two fingers hook around the handle and pull it further away from her reach. ‘Nuh uh,’ John shakes his head. ‘No more coffee for you, because you are going to bed and having a proper night’s sleep.’

‘You’re the one looking rather worse for wear,’ she counters, frowning at his bruises. ‘You should be there now, in fact.’ He waves his hand airily, and leans back. For some reason, the intensity of his stare makes her shift slightly. They sit in silence for a moment, enjoying the peace stemming from a dark and quiet control room, and a night crew keeping strategically out of eyesight. Then he sighs. ‘I wanted to apologize,’ he offers.

‘For what?’ she asks quietly, and he finally breaks eye contact to look down at his hands. ‘I’m sorry we made so much extra work for you,’ he begins, ignoring her attempted interjection of “it wasn’t your fault”. ‘Also, I’m sorry that with all this going on, I haven’t had a chance to find you a present.’ She glances over with a soft smile at the pot sitting on the edge of her desk – the first gift she had received on Atlantis.

‘That’s sweet of you, John, but it doesn’t matter,’ she assures him. ‘My present is that all my teams are currently back home and safe, even if a few of you are slightly injured.’ He snorts, prodding his cheek with a grimace before shooting a small grin back at her. ‘Five more minutes,’ he nods towards his watch. ‘Is there anything you want to do in the final moments of your birthday?’

‘There is one thing you could do for me,’ she pauses for dramatic effect, watching as he sits up attentively. ‘Find me a mug of fresh coffee.’ He laughs then, shaking his head and raising his hands in mock surrender. ‘I’m not enabling you today,’ he insists, and in a sudden fit of immaturity, she sticks her tongue out at him. ‘Fine, you win,’ she sighs, defeated. ‘I’ll leave the paperwork for the morning, and go to bed.’

‘Wise choice,’ he agrees, levering himself out of the chair and shuffling around the desk to hold out a hand. She grasps it, allowing him to pull her upright. ‘Tomorrow I’ll bring you coffee AND cake,’ he continues, and she realizes he hasn’t let go of her hand. She steps closer, lifting her chin so she can still look him in the face, and his smile fades slightly. The intense stare is back. ‘Happy birthday, Elizabeth,’ he murmurs, and then there are soft lips pressing against hers.

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT’S SO PERFECT! I’m gonna have to flail about this for the rest of the night!

Inbox fic anon, you are entirely too good to me, and to the fandom at large. Perfect cinnamon roll, too good, too pure for the world. Thank you so, so much!

Originally posted by gameraboy

(Also, this post would be incomplete without a Sparky gif:)

Originally posted by shipperly

you ever worry that you’re so numb and empty that time is just flying by, and nothing holds much significance for you anymore, so you’re afraid that even if something good happens to you, it won’t even matter much and you’ll continue being numb and empty til the day you die

the actual biggest mystery in Girl Genius is why on earth was Theo DuMedd Head Boy at the Wulfenbach Castle school when his reaction to literally every situation is “let’s disobey express orders and sneak into certain danger!” to the point where a random other student is caught out of bounds and says he was alone, and the Baron sighs and orders “Tell the Blue Level kitchen that young DuMedd is on grease trap duty until further notice.”