#I am not a smart shark

[catsharky]

It's been a while! I know I said I'd have more Ember/Rolan stuff for you guys soon, and while it's already been longer than I expected (or wanted), it's going to be a liiiittle bit longer. While my normal lines/tones style isn't too taxing, rendering/painting takes a hell of a lot more out of my wrist and I've had to chip away at this a bit at a time rather than powering through it like I'd normally be able to with my comics.

So in the meantime here's some little WIP sneak peeks of what's coming!

(Also if you have sent me an ask and are waiting on a reply, I promise I'm not ignoring you! I'll be answering a bunch once I've got these done, I've just been trying to not let myself get sidetracked)

[pcktknife]

i might have dreamed this but have you ever drawn zoro one piece as a ferret

probably a dream. ive drawn zoro maybe 3x and of those times the only animal one was a parrot. ive drawn maya/pearl/dahlia of ace attorney fame as ferrets tho. anyways not a ferret but heres a mongoose zoro and cobra sanji

[astralisnauta]

saw a post that had like a uqiz result and wondered "oh wow!! i wonder what that quiz is so i could take it :)" but i did take the quiz (didnt even remember. memory loss gang RISE UP !!!) and

[voidedjuice]

March 25th.....

[slimmestslime]

forget this shark exists

[sharkface-daydreams]

you KNOW im sending you sharkface.

i KNOW you are sending my boy to me <3 sending him home for lab analysis <333

the star size doesn't mean anything i just found a star brush in clip studio lmfao <3

[itstheghostofmypast]

Big Spoon

Non-Idol Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: Who knew he'd wake up bleary-eyed to find her a mess, one that was out of her control and his - or so he thought.

Genre: Fluffish

Warnings: None (just mentions of sad puppies)

Word Count: 1.3 k

Est.Read Time: 10 min

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

"What are you doing?" He sat up, squinting at his lover who was sitting with her headphones on, blasting God knows what at 2 am. Good lord, no wonder the bed seemed so lonely and-

"Why are you awake?" She snapped at him, causing him to flinch, his little pout and amusing bed hair had her mentally scolding herself for the outburst, he was sitting there half asleep, half awake, though completely ready to get to the bottom of this mystery. She took a deep breath before biting her lip and mumbling, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean, client called and Hongjoong needed more photos so I uh...got up to do it now so I won't have to do it later- just because that lady's rich. " Turning the chair to face him she winced slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice it, though how would it be Choi San if he didn't?

"What's wrong?" He asked pushing the covers off as he sat at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the cold floor. The moment of clarity allowed him to notice the small hot water bottle on her lap, and the cup of green tea in front of her beside a giant flask and a tissue box- "Were you crying?" He cooed, getting up to go closer only for her to whine and roll her chair back, keeping her distance.

"Hey, come on." He pouted before jumping at her causing her to gasp, only to realise he had held onto the armrests of her chair, locking her in place, "What happened?"

"I-it...nothing." She mumbled, averting her gaze, in no real mood for anything at the moment, she just wanted to finish editing these photos and- "Does it hurt here?" He asked, gently placing his palm against her belly, causing her to whine and try to push it away, only for him to shake his head  and remove his hand, instead using it to cup her cheek, "Let me guess, you got the call, they asked you for something that makes no sense, and shark week hit mid brooding session?"

Her eyes widened by the end of his little monologue, as she nodded, staring at him in awe like a little girl who had just met a fairy, well, he was a fairy, a rather feline-looking fairy she could call her own. Elegant, yet endearing, soft and warm yet as solid as a rock, smart yet, just a little dumb- either way, he was her pretty, cute, little fairy- though if he heard this analogy he'd probably be throwing a fit for days, claiming he was anything BUT A FAIRY- he was, as he'd like to call himself and his bros (minus Wooyoung because frankly she had realised he was the only sensible one in the lot)  A KING!

"How did you know?" Her lips quirked upwards when he leaned closer to place a soft kiss atop her head, a gesture that would oddly make her all putty in his hands.

"Because I'm the world's best boyfriend." His voice boomed across the quiet room causing her to cover her ears due to heightened sensitivity, before frowning up at him

"The world's best boyfriend missed one thing though."

His shoulders deflated at the statement, and he flopped backwards on the bed dramatically, his back landing with a loud huff, "And what is that?"

"I was crying cause- " her breath hitched as the memories resurfaced,  "Some dogs go through depression and this puppy did too- I was watching the video and it was so sad...Sannie" she whined, calling him out for God knows but the flashing images of the puppy and the stupid client's appeal just bothered her even more, the cherry on top was the excruciating pain that was a constant reminder of how the world is too cruel to women.

Not a moment later she was gently pulled out of her chair, engulfed in a warm embrace as his familiar scent enveloped her senses, work left behind, as she felt the soft, warm pillow- nope that was his arm, "My head's heavy," with a small mumble she tried to move, but he clicked his tongue and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head, "And my heart is heavy....my poor baby is in so much physical and emotional pain and I can't do anything about it-"

"We're never getting a puppy."

"I- um...okay?" He mused, giving her a gentle squeeze, of course, that one video of the sad puppies would make her come up with this verdict, possibly fuelled by her hormones. Making her laugh right now probably wasn't the easiest task, which is why he resorted to asking her the real question, though gentle toned and carefully curated, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on her back as he approached the topic, "I thought you sent the client all they asked for, did they want something out of the contract?"

With a loud huff she began, only to pause for a moment when another cramp hit, her fingers gripping his shirt as she took a deep breath before speaking (venting), "Apparently some of the guests, who refused to take solos then, now want their solo pics because the others who did get their solos taken got good results- like flattery will get you nowhere, I can't pull out your solo pics from my as-ah shit, " she hissed, trying to move, "I need my heating pad." He was quicker than her, jumping over her, letting out a hearty laugh when he heard her squeak and let out a few vulgar words. As quick and agile as a cat he hopped back on the bed, turning her on her back as he placed it on her lower belly, "There, all better?"

Nodding she placed her hands on the pad, pressing it against her skin before sighing, continuing, "Anyway, someone was like oh can you like crop us out and put us somewhere to turn it into our logo- you mean cut you out and paste the image, spend time blending, shading, fixing the highlights- no, because its not in the contract and I'm not being paid more for this."

"I...wow..." he mumbled, running his fingers through her hair soothingly as he sat beside her, looking down at her only to notice her trembling power lip and glossy eyes, "What's...wrong...baby, you don't have to do anything that wasn't under your contract." He hummed, tracing his fingertips over the slightly warmer skin of her forehead absentmindedly, "You want me to talk to -"

"That puppy was so sad, he looked like he wanted to cry and..." Turning to her side, as she closed her eyes, the rush of emotions getting a bit to strong, the tears leaking through her clenched eyes, hugging herself. This was stupid, she had ruined his sleep, woke him up in the middle of the night, snapped at him, told him stories that were irrelevant and then ended up crying about a video on puppies.

"I like being the big spoon."

Oh- that's why she felt so warm, and-

"How is laying on top of me the bigger spoon, you're crushing me."

"I'm protecting you from the bad vibes. Told you Hongjoong as a boss sucks, man's a capitalist monster."

With a sigh she relaxed in his hold, the added weight actually helping with the pain, both, physical and psychological.

"To sleep, you should stop thinking, leave your worries, for tomorrow's you." He sighed, giving her another squeeze, though he didn't recieve any response to his wise words, he could get them printed, "You asleep?" He whispered peeking over her shoulder only to smile,  two hours, they'd been awake for two hours, listening to God knows what she was going through, biological and induced. Either way, he was glad that she had the world's best boyfriend, he'd probably boast about this tomorrow to her, when she's in a better mood, when she's well rested and probably complaining once again, about how Hongjoong finding the dumbest, but richest clients. Need not worry, she'd always have someone loyal, sincere and the best big spoon out there- all her's.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky

[hellsitegenetics]

In this valentines day I am actually going to confess my HATRED towards dolphins

I don't know if it's because of the ridiculous amount of cursed facts I have been told, the fact that they can be evil, just unsubstantiated hatred or the fact that I almost got bit by one when I was in 4th grade during a very shady school trip to a zoo.

I just hate them man, they're pure nightmare fuel, in dreams they have bitten my head off, their skin looks so akin to human skin yet so much like plastic, their eyes have no souls in them but the ones they've consumed.

And while yes, they're animals, they're also incredibly smart which only means when they force themselves upon whatever other dolphin, animal or even human has the disgrace to, they know what they're doing.

They have been a main cause of shark attacks, and just as if not more likely to attack than sharks.

This is the face of a species of animals that can and will kill for FUN.

I Hate these glorified aquatic mammal fucks.

But GOD they're fascinating.

And did not deserve whatever the CIA was on when they tried to get dolphins to speak English what the fuck even happened there.

String identified:

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't t' ca t c at c act a t, t act tat t ca , t tatat at t act tat at gt t a 4t ga g a a c t t a .

t at t a, t' gta , a t a tt a , t a t a t c atc, t a t t t t' c.

A , t' aa, t' a c at c a t c t at t , aa a a t gac t, t at t' g.

T a a a ca a attac, a t a t t attac ta a.

Closest match: Danio rerio genome assembly, chromosome: 6 Common name: Zebrafish

[schoenpepper]

Intro: You choose to wear...all of them?!

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, a swear word or three, if you squint it's suggestive, google translated French

A/N: Wow reader, you're quite, er, assertive? It'll be a mess, but it'll be your mess, so I hope you like what you're getting into.

Masterlist

Huh? Are you sure? They'll clash, you know? The jewelry.

Stubborn little human.

You want to make sure that none of your friends are upset. So, instead of making a choice, you decide to make the choice and just wear all of them at the same time! So smart.

You don't feel too smart when everyone's eyes are on you at the ball. Their gazes hurt almost as much as their judging whispers, and you hear a few awful words about you scatter through the venue. You wish they'd understand that you just did it because you care about all your friends, and so you're willing to be the sacrificial lamb and be all their dates. At the same time.

No, I am actually about to throw up, but to be honest, I cannot imagine any other line of thinking in which this scenario would be reasonable.

Malleus is the first to come to you, curiosity in his eyes as he comments on your choice of accessories. "Child of Man, I was under the impression that wearing a gift to this occasion meant you were open to courting the sender." And his words send a shock through you so hard that your expression is downright horrified, your palms are sweaty and shaking, and you seem to feel the jewelry downright burning your skin. Did you just choose the harem ending?

"Oh, ma merveilleuse beauté! You look so wonderful tonight. I would be delighted to have you, even if it does mean sharing."

Oh. You did.

Congratulations?

Rook's words float in your mind, and you shake your head, red in the face. "No, senpai, I thought these were like friendship invitations! No one said anything about them being courting gifts!" Unfortunately for you, before you can act to fix this silly little mistake of yours, the rest of your seniors crowd around you like sharks smelling blood spilled in the water. There's a hand on your shoulder, and you feel a slight relief when you see that it's Trey. He's mature, he's reasonable, and he'll understand your original intentions—his hand slides down to the small of your back as he leans in closer to you. "Is that it, Y/N? I can't say I mind sharing either."

Holy mother of all things holy shit-

"I don't share." Leona growls lowly, meeting Malleus' gaze aggressively.

"Neither do I." Vil has a small frown on his gorgeous face, his arms crossed in displeasure. "But if you want the potato, as I do, you can learn to play nice."

"What is all this commotion about?" Maybe Riddle is your savior! You turn to him with newly rekindled hope that he can take you away from this grave you'd dug for yourself. "If Y/N has chosen all of us, then it is only correct that we begin by drawing up a schedule in which we can split their time equally amongst ourselves."

And your hope is dead once again.

14 boyfriends, huh? Good luck!

Try Again?

[f1shart]

🌴🌺 strange bottom 🫧🐠

sobs violently..... here are my mermay contributions.. I WANTED TO DO SO MUCH MORE but it's already almost june and i am the procrastinatorrr 😝

first up are THE LEAKERS!!! ft. nerfish (he's based on a viperfish) loki is a blue loebstr 🎹 and circe is based on a japanese spider crab cuz their legs reminded me of long medical instruments i guess.

next THE BLUBS 🫧🐟 get it.. fish dont grunt. im smart right they're sharkies (💕) because @simm-mouse connected buzz with buzzsaw sharks (also lyla is a siren in this au hence the extra finny stuff on the kids)

their names are general barnacles, submarine/fishtank, riptide, and duck ^_^ @budgieflitter came up with the last 3 im mot creative enough to come up with SUBMARINE </3

🌀🌀🌀

other doodles blehh 🧛

[sophrosynesworld]

Black and Blues (Pt. 2)

Part One:

The elevator ride feels suffocating in its silence. Izuku stares ahead, his normally bright demeanor dulled by the weight of everything happening. It’s just like high school all over again—losing him the first time nearly broke me. How am I supposed to survive this again?

The chime of the elevator interrupts our last moments of quiet, and the doors slide open, unleashing the chaos of DynaCorp. Assistants scramble like ants, buzzing around us with frantic energy.

“Can someone please find Mrs. Bakugo an appropriate outfit?” One assistant barks orders while others scatter. My fingers fidget with the hem of my shorts as camera crews set up equipment, flashes already going off in every direction.

“Mrs. Dynamite, you need to issue Plan C42. Sign here.” A clipboard and pen are thrust into my hands without warning.

Izuku snatches it out of my grip before I can even register what’s happening, tossing it aside. “She’s not signing that. He’s been gone less than 48 hours. Kacchan’s taken spontaneous trips to Spain that have lasted longer than this.”

“What’s C42?” I ask, tugging on his jacket to refocus him. Izuku’s gaze softens momentarily as he gently takes my wrist, pulling me away from the swarm of demands closing in on us.

Before Izuku can answer, an assistant with a phone rushes over. “Mrs. Bakugo, the shareholders’ meeting is about to start. They need you on the call now.”

“Wait, I—”

“Mrs. Bakugo, the PR team needs a statement about Mr. Bakugo’s absence,” another voice cuts in.

“One thing at a time!” I snap, feeling my head start to spin.

Izuku squeezes my hand reassuringly, leaning in so his green eyes are level with mine. “C42 hands over control to the board of directors,” he explains, voice low and steady, trying to anchor me. “Katsuki’s smart. He knows what he’s doing—he’s a shark when it comes to business.”

“Then why are they all acting like he’s already dead?” I mutter, my voice cracking under the pressure.

“Katsuki owns 65% of DynaCorp,” Izuku explains, keeping his focus on me. “As the majority shareholder, he can’t be outvoted. They can’t act without your approval.”

“Mrs. Bakugo, please, the meeting,” the assistant with the phone urges again, sounding panicked.

“I’ll be right there,” I say, still looking at Izuku. “What do I do?”

Izuku steps closer, his large hand resting on my bicep.

“Do you know why Katsuki’s the boss?” he asks me quietly. “It’s because he’s a bully. He doesn’t take orders from anyone. His employees don't tell him what to do—they wait for him to make the call. And today, you’re in charge. You decide when things happen. Everyone waits on you.”

I swallow hard but nod, feeling a small spark of confidence stir inside me.

Just then, another assistant rushes up with a tablet in hand. “Mrs. Bakugo, the legal team needs your approval on these documents.”

Before I can even react, Izuku grabs the tablet out of the assistant’s hands, shooting them a sharp glare. “We’ll review everything later,” he snaps. “You've done things way scarier than this. Bakugo is going to love hearing about this.”

The rest of the day is a whirlwind. Meeting after meeting, phone call after phone call, every second brings new demands, new emergencies. My head is pounding, a constant hum of tension swirling behind my eyes. By the time we finally leave the office, the city has long since gone dark, and exhaustion weighs heavily on my shoulders.

I never realized how much Katsuki dealt with on a daily basis. The pressure, the decisions, the chaos—it’s no wonder he always seemed stressed. I should buy more plants.

Izuku and I sit in my apartment, surrounded by takeout containers from our favorite restaurant. The scent of fresh rice and fried chicken bites fills the room as we go over stacks of documents spread across the coffee table.

Izuku picks up a dumpling with his chopsticks, his eyes soft with concern as he glances my way. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch, my head tilted toward the ceiling. "I don’t know… I’m not even hungry." My gaze drifts over to the counter, where my cold pancakes still sit, syrup congealed and untouched.

Izuku lowers his chopsticks, setting them aside. “What would Katsuki say?”

A bitter smile tugs at my lips. “That I’m going to get a headache if I don’t eat some protein.” I mumble, rolling my eyes even as I take a small bite from my plate, forcing the food down despite the knot in my stomach.

“Thank you, Izuku,” I say quietly, the weight of the day pulling down on my shoulders. “You didn’t have to stay.”

He gives me a soft smile, his voice equally gentle. “We stick together. Your husband has every pro hero in Japan looking for him. He’d want me here with you.”

I nod, comforted by his presence as we work in silence. The world outside feels distant, almost surreal, until our phones begin to buzz, lighting up with a flurry of notifications. Message after message floods in, urging us to turn on the TV.

Izuku grabs the remote with a frown, switching to the local news channel.

And then everything stops.

“Oh my god.” The words fall from my mouth, barely audible. My hands fly up to cover my face as I stare at the screen, frozen in horror. My legs feel weak, but before I can collapse, Izuku is up, his arms pulling me into a tight cocoon, shielding me from the unbearable images flashing on the screen.

“Recently released footage shows ProHero Dynamite hours after he was reported as MIA. The following footage contains graphic images that may not be suitable for viewers.”

My body thrashes against Izuku's hold as I desperately try to turn around and see the screen. But he holds me firm, locking me in place.

"Katsuki!" I scream, heart racing in my chest. But then I hear his voice, faint but unmistakable through the television speakers.

“Bluejays are born to fly. Are they not?”

I stomp on Izuku’s foot, using his moment of surprise to break free from his grip. I whip around, my eyes locking onto the screen just in time to see the horrifying scene. An assailant with an electricity quirk sends a painful jolt into Katsuki’s body, his face twisted in agony. His lips part again.

“Bluejay...”

My heart shatters at the sight of him—broken, battered... confused. I move toward the TV without thinking, my trembling hand reaching for him.

“Stop! Please!” I cry, my fingers grazing the glass, feeling the cold surface that separates us. Izuku yanks me away, wrapping his arms around me and rushing us toward the door.

“What are you doing?!” I shout in confusion, my voice choked with emotion as our apartment door slams behind us.

“We have to go—now,” Izuku mutters under his breath, his usual calm composure unraveling as he pulls me down the hallway. This isn’t like him. We usually take the elevator, but this time, he pushes open the stairwell door, his eyes scanning for danger.

"Stay low, come on," he orders, and we descend the stairs, our hurried footsteps echoing in the narrow space. The sense of urgency fuels my panic, my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

When we reach the parking garage, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward a car, practically shoving me inside. He slides into the driver’s seat, his movements fast and calculated, the car roaring to life as he locks the doors and tears out of the garage.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand, my voice rising with fear and confusion.

Izuku’s knuckles tighten on the wheel, his jaw set. “You’re in danger. We need to move you somewhere safe.”

“What? Izuku, what are you talking about?” I ask.

He spares me a glance. “I don’t know everything yet. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’re going to figure this out—and we’re going to get Kacchan back. I promise.”

The city blurs past us, the streets illuminated by the dim glow of streetlights as we speed into the night, leaving everything familiar behind. All I can think about is Katsuki’s broken face on that screen, and the overwhelming fear that we might not make it in time.

Part Three:

[fancyfeathers]

zainiscompletelydone333 asked a question

omg but imagine william's potential darling to be like agatha christie? a mystery writer whose mysteries are almost impossible to solve. whether or not they are as smart as the masterminds or detectives in her books, her stories do come close to confusing even sherlock or william a bit. if you've read her "and then there were none" SPOILERS its about a judge killing people for being evil and that is so william coded. anyways i'm straying far what I mean is william could be a quiet fan, and as the lord of crime, even replicate some of her stories as part of his crimes. watching his darling's face pale at the unknown criminal doing such a thing.....ASDKSHD an when he finally does officially meet her, he wonders if she'l ever base a character off him. a hero, or perhaps a villain?

For some reason this isn’t showing up in my tumblr inbox but thank god for my email cause this is a gem! Thank you @zainiscompletelydone333 for this!

Okay I love Agatha Christie, an actual icon! Fun fact she actually faked her own disappearance in 1926 and the police couldn’t find her for over a week and she just took a vacation to London after her husband threatened to leave her and she said fuck it and decided to treat herself. Then also Arthur Conan Doyle the author of Sherlock Holmes was hired to find her.

Anyway I am getting so off track but I love this lady so much so here we go!!!

But yes William would absolutely adore a darling like her. Imagine him first finding her works for the first time, perhaps one of his brothers or Sebastian or Fred was reading her work and just out of curiosity he picks up one of her books and is just immediately enthralled. Whenever he is not busy he is reading or even rereading one of her books and even begins to be teased by others for his slight addiction to her works.

Then when he and Sherlock is on the train investigating the murder that is when he gets an idea from both this and one of her books.

Weeks later an aristocrat who had been acting as a loan shark was found dead on a train in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times, his door locked from the inside, just like a murder from one of her most famous book…

But what William did not know is that she was on that same train…

And of course she found the body…

As William was making his way back to his seat to join his brothers, he hears a blood curdling scream and he simply chalks it up to someone finding the body. Then the panicked woman is brought to her seat by the staff and she looks a mess, pale faced, tears rolling down her face, hyperventilating, all things someone should be after seeing a dead body.

She is being asked questions when she finally calms down enough and William’s ears prick up as he hears words he never thought he would hear…

“Oh god… this is my fault…”

He turns his head to the booth next to him and sees her in absolute terror as she speaks to the train conductor.

She is right next to him…

She is terrified, horrified even…

And she is beautiful.

After everything from that incident had settled and she is off at home, trying to work on her next work for the life of her but being horrified by what she just witnessed…

Then more deaths come to surface all with the same pattern…

They are based on her books…

The author is absolutely horrified, she is loosing sleep, not eating as she should, and has rarely left her house in weeks…

Then she gets a knock on her door from a certain detective who was hired to look into one of the deaths, Sherlock Holmes. While he may like her books, he has noticed the pattern like she has and has one request for her…

“I want to help you to solve these cases. Who better to solve murders based on books better than the author herself?”

At first she refuses and dismisses him, but then when she is laying in bed that night she realizes he was right.

Her drawing room becomes a mess of her old notes that she had tucked away from when she wrote her book, copies of her her books with dozens bookmarks in them, newspaper clippings all around, and evidence she had Sherlock get access to with his connections that she doesn’t have.

After days of pure investigation and nights of no sleep she finally was able to figure out where the next murder will be, just by what books are left…

But that’s the thing…

There is not a single work of hers left that this murderer has not take inspiration from…

The only thing left is the author, and she can only assume that she is the next target. So without telling Sherlock, she packs up her bags and fakes her own disappearance, to fool both the police and the murderer.

She spends so much time in the shadows, watching and waiting to see who looks into her disappearance, seeing how people react to it, but nothing, not a thing…

It frustrates her even further…

Then she finally decides to return home, feeling like a failure. Her house if just how she left it, even the papers in the drawing room that look like the work of a madman that she will have to clean up after her failure so she can go back to what she is good at, fictional murders not really ones…

No she can’t do that, that would only give the murderer ideas…

So she quits.

No one hears from her for months as she nods herself taking up a librarian position at a local library, at least she is doing something with her literature. She says goodbye to Mr. Holmes and tucks away all her old books and works in progress that will never be finished on the shelves to collect dust for the rest of her life.

At her time working there she gets a frequent visitor at the library, a Mr. William James Moriarty. He had a fascination with murder mystery novels and the two form a quick friendship over their shared love of them. Everything feels like a new start, a clean slate but then he had to ask…

“Will you ever write again?”

That question has her heart hurt because she adores writing, but to sacrifice lives just for what she enjoys, she would never. She shuts down his question quickly and excuses herself, but then avoids the scarlet eyed man as to not be asked that question again.

But as she is laying in bed one night…

She hears the sound of footsteps in her study downstairs…

She feels her heart stop…

She closes her eyes and prays whoever is there will just go away, but they do not. So she musters whatever courage she has left and slips out of bed to see who is there in her study that has been collecting dust for almost a year…

And she approaches the closed door she realizes whoever is behind them must be the person behind the murders that gave plagued her and-

“William?”

The pangs of shock she feels in her chest when she sees the face of William Jane Moriarty looking through her unfinished works that she shelved away what felt like years ago. She must have looked like a deer in headlights as the Lord of Crime looking up at her with a smile, his red eyes staring into her soul…

She is terrified, horrified even…

And she is beautiful.

“Your unfinished work, will it have an ending? Or perhaps will we have to write one ourselves? What do you think, darling?”

The weeks go by and the next time the author is seen in public again she has an engagement ring on her finger and the announcement is being made about their upcoming wedding. The talk of the aristocracy says that she finally has a husband who is willing to deal with her crazied ideas that ended up killing so many people, not knowing that she is on the arm of the man who killed them…

Just for her.

(I could kinda imagine it ending up as a situation like the book Misery by Stephen King where he has her finish her work even if she doesn’t want to, but what differs is that while he doesn’t necessarily keep her locked up physically he does mentally. Sure go run off, he isn’t going to stop his darling, but just watch the bodies stack up pin ways she imagined, he is using her own mind against her which is the most terrifying of prisons. Then soon fear turns into dependency, she becomes terrified of him leaving her because now she has no where else to go but him so he has no need to hide her away when she clings to his arm like a terrified and wounded animal.)

[carbonated-fenwater]

Mostly screaming into the void with this one but I'm almost to the end of earning my Bachelor's and I've got something to say.

It is not edgy or subversive to redirect your hatred onto animals that you deem morally impure or to try and yassify misunderstood creatures.

"Sea otters assault their females to death and drown their pups" they are still a cornerstone species worth protecting and whole ecosystems are suffering for the loss of them.

"Sharks are just ocean puppies and big sweeties." No they're not, they are apex predators and you have to treat them with respect. Saying they're not capable of aggression or completely misunderstood is still spreading misinformation, you cannot generalize a group of animals like this.

"Dolphins are super smart and actually capable of understanding that some of their behaviors are evil" I am actually going to break into your house and steal your shoes if you say this to me.

"Charismatic megafauna are useless and overrated and taking away from underappreciated species that Really need our help" wrong again dipshit. Animals like pandas, elephants, whales, and others that I'm sure you're tired of seeing plastered everywhere are important to get the general public involved. It's called PR (and while I wish it wasn't necessary and that people would care regardless I digress) and what conservation work IS done based around them is advantageous to other threatened species that share their habitat.

As someone going into the field of ecological conservation and marine biology, I have met one too many people who think it's okay to say a certain animal doesn't deserve to be protected because it makes them feel yucky or just because they think it doesn't deserve it. I shouldn't have to tell you why that is SO not okay. The underappreciated and overrated can both exist, you don't need to proselytize people into hating dolphins just so sharks can get their dues.

You're also allowed to just dislike an animal! But if you sensationalize their behaviors that are morally incorrect by human standards, then I am begging you to reevaluate yourself, get more educated on the subject, and talk to a real ecologist.

No creature on this planet deserves to be eradicated just because you are personally offended by their natural behaviors or deem them unfit to take up space.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Sit down, Solace, you pain in the ass, I’ll get it.”

Will huffs moodily, trying in vain to continue hobbling towards the cupboards against the infirmary wall. Nico has to physically wrestle him back to his cot, which in theory should be way harder, but luckily he’s weak enough from the pain meds that once Nico manages to shove him against the cushions, he can’t get back up.

Ha. Karma.

“You can’t get it,” says the most dramatic drama queen alive, dramatically, “on account of you not know what ‘it’ is.”

Nico smiles patiently. It resembles, to the outside eye and perhaps the inner one also, the bared teeth of a grinning shark. “Tell me, then.”

“No.”

“Then tough shit for you.”

“I’m just gonna wait until you’re turned away again,” Will calls against his retreating back. Nico flips him the bird. “So this was futile, really.”

He’s stubborn, but he’s not an idiot, Nico reassures himself. Surely, the many years — formative years — he’s spent as head medic have made him smart. Surely, Mr. Nagging Nag shall heed his own advice, lest the entire camp descend upon him in swathes of shrieking, not quite righteous fury, intolerant or hypocrisy. Surely.

He hears the creak of a rickety bed, a thunk of something hitting the wooden floorboards, and a soft oof.

He closes his eyes and exhales deeply.

For fuck’s sake.

When he turns around, he sees William Andrew Solace, Best Healer in Generations, Paraded Progeny of Apollo, Also Notably Naomi Solace’s Son, That’s Kinda Sick, Isn’t It, sprawled on the floor, ridiculously long limbs outstretched, attempting to wiggle across the floor to the cupboards.

“Solace, I am going to kill you.”

“Some healer you are,” Will mutters, as if Nico is not playing healer right now purely because he is the only one in the entire camp with a half a chance of wrangling the dumbass head medic himself. He continues to wiggle.

Wrapping a hand around his uninjured ankle, Nico drags him bodily back to his cot, ignoring the shrieking.

“One day on bedrest, you dipshit. One. Day. That is all anyone is asking if you.”

“My binder!” he insists, because he is difficult. “I don’t need to sit down and do nothing, I need to run my infirmary!”

“You need to sit the fuck down and heal your body before it schedules healing for you,” Nico snaps. “For fuck’s sake, Will, does it matter to you at all that other people would like to see you safe and healthy, even if you couldn’t give a shit?”

For a glorifying moment, Will stares at him, eyes wide, face frozen. Nico meets his gaze, glaring, his own chest heaving where Will appears to have held his breath.

Then, Will bursts out laughing.

“That!” he says, wheezing. “That is what I have been trying to nail through your thick skull! Karma, you little turd!”

Mouth opening, and closing again, it’s Nico’s turn to freeze.

“Oh, gods.”

The horror in his voice is tangible. Will laughs harder.

“Oh, gods, I’m becoming you.”

He stumbles to the closest cot, sitting down quickly before he gets any dizzier than he already is. Nausea builds up his throat.

Gods, that was a direct quote.

“Not so fuckin’ easy to wrangle you clumsy shitheads, is it!”

Nico cradles his head in agony. No. No! It can’t be! He refuses to lend any credibility to Will’s mother-henning! He is obnoxious, and overbearing, and hell-bent on restricting Nico’s freedom; there is no way Nico is emulating him right now, because that would mean he has a point when he’s bossing Nico around, and — no. Cannot be.

“I told you,” Will says, smug as a godsdamn rooster in a hen house. (Oh, gods, now his stupid cowboy idioms are ringing in his head? He needs to spend less time with Will. Better yet, he should take another dip in the Lethe — willingly, this time. Anything is better than this.) “You clumsy fucks are the sole reason I am going to die from stress-induced heart failure at twenty-two, and then I am going to resurrect myself as a ghost through sheer stubborn will alone to haunt each and every one of you for eternity.”

Nico chooses to focus on the part of the sentence that he can conveniently argue with. “You don’t get to call anyone a clumsy fuck, on account of you shattering three bones in your ankle because you stomped your foot too hard when you were trying to make a point.”

“What was the point I was trying to make, again?”

Nico keeps his mouth shut.

“Something something reanimating entire dragons to scare the shit out of Cecil is going to drain you to dangerous levels of energy and make me have to drag you from the brink of death yet again something something.” He pauses. “Even if it was really funny and he nearly actually pissed himself.”

“Well, whatever,” Nico says, elegantly changing the subject. “You’re an idiot, and if you don’t let yourself heal than you’re worse than the rest of us and can never lecture us ever again. So. And I’ll rat you out, too, they’ll believe me.”

Will glares at him. Nico glares back.

“Get some rest,” Nico orders, still glaring. Will pulls a face and repeats his words back to him, mockingly.

“There’s a difference between me and the rest of you idiots,” he grumbles, petulantly ripping loose the blankets and shoving himself under them. Nico smacks his hands away, tucking them around him for him, checking his pillow, and then his forehead for good measure, just in case his stupid ass somehow gave himself a fever. Will squirms, just to make things difficult, so Nico, as acting healer in the room, has to smack him. “I can feel my limits.”

“And yet you pirouette right on over them. I think that makes you worse, actually.”

Will, son of the god of truth, has nothing to say to that.

“Stupid,” Nico says, fondly, squeezing a gentle hand in his cheek. “Sleep, okay? You can go back to being dictator of the infirmary when you’re healed.”

“Tomorrow,” he insists.

Nico rolls his eyes, smiling, and pulls his hand away. Will darts out and snatches his wrist before he goes far, eyes pleading, and Nico caves immediately. Will’s skin is warm, and smooth.

“If you’re healed by then.”

He traces his thumb across Will’s freckled cheekbone, shivering slightly as his long eyelashes tickle the tip of his fingerprint.

“Mhm.”

He’s already puffing out small, quiet snores, head lolling against Nico’s hand, body exhausted from working overtime to try and heal.

Shaking his head, Nico ducks down, pressing a kiss to the space between his eyes before pulling away. He watches him for a moment, peaceful, face smooth and un-creased, delicate cupid’s bow pink and poised, skin spattered with paintbrush freckles. Heart skipping, he can’t resist another quick peck, lingering, at the top of his nose, the middle of his cheek; again at the dip of his brow. It furrows, briefly, under his touch, before relaxing again.

“Goodnight, Will.” He brushes a knuckle over his cheek. “Thank you, you dork ass.”

[felixdragonheartofficial]

TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

[le-trash-prince]

I will say, Kidnap is turning out to be as pulpy as I was initially hoping it would be.

It's fast-paced in a way that BL rarely is—our hero finds himself in a new predicament every week, struggling to balance his situational needs with his moral code. He's fighting off loan sharks, his brother has health issues, he's struggling with a kidnapping that he's not emotionally committed to, he's falling for his target, he's getting involved with the mafia, and soon enough, the police will be on his tail.

It may not be as heavily sexual as some pulp can be, but Kidnap bears markers of erotic and romantic pulp stories—it's tinged with situational bondage, we have a sadistic villain, and its romance is built on a contrast of high danger and emotional tenderness. As a romantic lead, Min is both strong and vulnerable, while Q plays a "damsel in distress" who is smart, snarky, and more capable than he seems.

Because I'm not fluent in Thai, I'm not comfortable speaking to the wittiness or snappiness of the dialogue, but the show is funny, and the comedy brings a levity that such a fast-paced story needs. Not all shows dealing with heavy topics like loan sharks or mafia need a lighthearted or silly aspect, and often this can be out of place, but when you are moving as quickly as Kidnap, those heavier elements can feel like a constant barrage.

I won't declare that the show was for-sure going for a pulp feeling, but it certainly bears the markers of a lot of pulp literature. Pulp weeklies (which, incidentally, made a lot of their money off of advertisements x), needed stories that would keep their readers coming back week after week. How will Min get out of this predicament now?

Overall, I hope that people can take Kidnap as it is without judging it for failing to achieve something that it's not trying to accomplish. Pulp may not be for everyone, and that's fine. It's certainly not high-brow literature, it was made to be accessible to the masses, but many great writers got their start in pulp, and the pulp era had a lasting impact on modern storytelling. Personally, I tend to really love things with strong pulp influences, so I am being well fed by Kidnap. Maybe that will change in the future, but so far I have enjoyed each episode more than the last.