#also the fact that my brain is screaming the whole time that half of these players are too tall to logically play anything other than gk

[reidsbookclub]

An Accidental Marriage

Spencer Reid x fem! reader fluffy fluffy fluffy

Spencer Reid never thought he'd start his morning by nearly choking to death on his beloved coffee. But, then again, he also never thought he’d get accidentally married and find out about it at the same time the rest of the 6th floor at the FBI.

Yet here he was—standing in the BAU’s bullpen, coughing and sputtering as the one person he never expected to see in Virginia stormed into the room and screamed:

"DID YOU KNOW THE MARRIAGE WAS REAL?!"

Everyone seemed to freeze. The usual hum of the FBI’s elite profiling unit went completely silent as every single agent turned to stare at the scene unfolding before them.

Emily Prentiss slowly set down her mug. Luke Alvez raised an eyebrow. Tara Lewis and JJ exchanged glances. Penelope Garcia, the BAU’s self appointed gossip queen, visibly perked up like a cat spotting a canary. And Spencer? Spencer was still choking.

“Marriage?” JJ echoed, tilting her head. “Spence, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

His childhood best friend—you—stood in front of him, arms crossed, expression half exasperated, half completely bewildered. What were you doing in Virginia? You wen't supposed to finalize your move until next month. Did he get the months wrong? He never got the months wrong but then again thinking about you always did something to his brain, he thought.

“I went to get my license updated, Spencer. My license. And do you know what I found out?” You didn’t wait for him to answer, waving an official-looking paper in front of his face. “I have been legally married for ten years and nobody thought to tell me?”

Spencer finally managed to recover, rubbing his throat before he pushed his glasses up his nose, his mind whirring. “Wait, wait, wait—how is that even possible?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Crash maybe it’s because we signed a legal document at that stupid fair years ago thinking it was a joke when it was actually real!” The moment you called him Crash, the way you had since you were kids (a nickname born from his clumsy nature and his inability to stay upright for long), something clicked in his brain.

The fair. The marriage booth.

The backup plan.

“Oh my God,” Spencer whispered.

“Oh my God is right!” you cried

Penelope practically vibrated in her seat. “Wait, wait, wait—did I just hear correctly? My favorite boy genius has been secretly married for ten years and didn’t know it?! This is better than any rom-com I’ve ever seen!”

Luke smirked. “And you never thought to check?”

“Why would I check? It's Spencer!” Penelope cried

Rossi, who had been listening with an amused expression, leaned back in his chair. “Alright, kids, humor the old man. Start from the beginning.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and plopped into the nearest chair. Spencer sat beside you, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay,” you started. “Spencer and I grew up together in Vegas. We were best friends. Like, inseparable. Hi, by the way names Y/N and I probably know a lot about all of you.” Spencer nodded. “We met when we were six years old. Statistically, most childhood friendships don’t last into adulthood, but we were an anomaly.”

Emily waved a hand. “Cute, but get to the part where you got married.”

You rolled your eyes, not liking that people didn't like Spencers facts. “When we were kids, we made a pact. If we weren’t married by forty, we’d marry each other. You know, as a backup plan.”

JJ let out a small aw before covering her mouth.

“Then,” Spencer continued, “when we were twenty, we ran into each other while I was visiting my mom in Vegas, Y/N was supposed to be visiting her sister in California but missed her plane. There was a fair at the local community college, and we thought it would be fun to relive our childhood for a day and spend the whole day together like we used to.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “And that’s when we saw it. The stupid marriage booth.”

Luke frowned. “Marriage booth?”

Spencer nodded. “It was part of the fair attractions. A fake wedding setup where couples could take pictures, sign a certificate, and get one of those novelty ‘marriage’ papers. We thought it was funny—like a way to get a head start on our backup plan.”

“Turns out,” you grumbled, “since we were in Vegas, it wasn’t fake at all.” The room went silent. And then Penelope excitedly screamed.

“Oh. My. God.” Penelope clutched her chest like she was about to faint. “That is the most romantic accidental love story I have ever heard.”

Spencer shook his head. “It’s not romantic! It was a mistake.”

“I don’t know, kid,” Rossi said with a smirk. “Sounds a lot like fate to me.”

You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “That’s exactly what the lady at the DMV said when she showed me the proof!”

Tara leaned forward. “And now what?”

You glanced at Spencer. “I guess we get it annulled.”

For some reason, the thought sent an odd pang through Spencer’s chest. Annulled? Why did the thought of getting it annulled make him want to through up?

Emily leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Or—” she drawled, eyes gleaming mischievously, “you could just stay married.”

“What?” you and Spencer said in unison.

Tara shrugged. “You were childhood best friends. You made a pact to marry each other if you didn’t find anyone else. Maybe this was fate stepping in early.”

“Fate,” Spencer repeated blankly.

“Oh, you cannot annul this,” Penelope gasped. “This is the most romantic accidental love story ever. Think of the story you’ll have for your grandchildren!”

Just as you were beginning to protest, agent Grant Anderson strolled into the bullpen, carrying a stack of case files. His gaze landed on you, and a charming smile spread across his face.

“Well, hello,” he said smoothly. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You blinked at him. “Uh, no, I guess we haven’t.”

Anderson’s smile widened. “You must be new. Are you visiting, or is this a permanent thing?”

Spencer, who had been silent for a moment too long, suddenly stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. His jaw clenched, his normally gentle brown eyes darkening with something sharp and territorial. His hand curled around your wrist, firm but not forceful, and then—“My wife,” he said.

And before you could react, before you could process what he just said Spencer Reid—your childhood best friend, the genius who was accidentally your husband, the man you have been in love with since you knew what love was—grabbed your face and kissed you.

The bullpen erupted in cheers. Penelope squealed. JJ gasped. Emily shouted, “Go Reid!” Rossi laughed like this was the best thing he'd seen in years.

Anderson took a step back, holding up his hands. “Well. That answers that question.” When Spencer finally pulled away, you could only stare at him, breathless, heart pounding, lips tingling. “What—what was that?!” you managed. Spencer swallowed, adjusting his tie. “A leap,” he said simply. You blinked. And then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him back. Tagging some friends because for some reason I can't find my taglist

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @boldlyvoid @milla984 @reidsaurora @reiding-and-writing

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #05 死

† medical emergencies †

"There's something ironic about learning to stitch wounds while he's sitting there half-naked, making your heart do things that probably need medical attention. But hey, at least if you stab yourself with the needle, there's a doctor in the house."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 7,5k

rating: mature

content: V being a menace, worried Chaewon, slaps, stitching practice, getting to know the medical chief aka J-Hope, shirtless stormy men and sexual tension.

☠ author's note ☠

DISCLAIMER TIME! I am not, in fact, a medical student. Shocking, I know. My knowledge of medical procedures comes entirely from watching too much House M.D. and falling down WebMD rabbit holes at 3 AM. So if any actual medical professionals are reading this... I am begging you to suspend your disbelief (；一_一)

I did spend like two hours researching stuff though! That counts for something, right? RIGHT? The things I do for accuracy, I swear. My browser history probably has me on several watch lists by now. Between this and the weapons research for chapter 3... Yeah, I'm definitely getting flagged somewhere (◎_◎;)

BUT ONTO THE GOOD STUFF! Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, please welcome our resident grumpy doctor to the stage! My love, my light, the medical chief himself - Jung Hoseok! What are we thinking? Because I'm lowkey living for his whole "I hate everyone but I'll still patch you up while cursing your existence" vibe.

Fun fact: I totally channeled my inner Dr. McCoy from Star Trek for his character. If you know, you know. And if you don't know... well, Spirk are my space parents and Bones is their bratty child. This is the hill I will die on. Do not @ me.

We've still got so many characters to properly introduce though! Remember that info dump in chapter 2? Yeah, we're gonna actually explore all of those personalities. Your girl's got PLANS.

Also, this chapter turned out way longer than expected but like... more content for you guys? You're welcome? I think? Look, my ADHD brain knows no word limits. It's either 500 words or 5000, there is no in between.

Anyways, hope you enjoy this one! Your comments fuel my questionable life choices and enable my caffeine addiction. Much love! (｡♥‿♥｡)

Caffeine addiction can only do so much. Stay tuned! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧​​​​​​​

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

You can't help but roll your eyes as V carries you through the castle like some damsel in distress. His confidence borders on cocky as he navigates the maze-like hallways, cradling you against his chest like you're made of glass. Which you're definitely not.

"Any chance we can skip this knight-in-shining-armor bit and just let me limp my way there?" You grumble, acutely aware of how your ankle throbs with each of his steps. "I promise I won't sue if I faceplant."

V's laugh rumbles through his chest. "And rob myself of playing the dashing hero? I don't think so, love."

His grin is infuriatingly charming as he spirals down another identical-looking hallway. The air smells like industrial cleaner and... cinnamon? You wrinkle your nose, trying to place that oddly familiar scent.

"You do know where you're going, right? Or should I start worrying that we're hopelessly lost?" Your tone is dry enough to kindle a fire as V makes yet another right turn. At this rate, you'll end up back where you started.

"I could navigate this place blindfolded," V assures you with a theatrical wink. "Just thought we'd enjoy the scenic route together."

"Scenic... sure." You emphasize each word with as much sarcasm as you can muster. But dammit, there's something about his playful banter that tugs at the corners of your mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek, determined not to give him the satisfaction of making you smile.

You shift slightly in V's arms, trying to find a position that doesn't make your ankle scream. Each movement is a lovely reminder of how you got into this mess in the first place. t̶h̶a̶n̶k̶s̶ ̶J̶e̶o̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶

The castle halls are alive with activity, but everything seems to pause as V carries you through. Other members stop and stare, probably wondering why one of the most dangerous men in Kkangpae is playing nurse. Their whispers follow you like shadows.

"If you're trying to show off your navigation skills, I should mention we've passed that painting three times now." You eye him skeptically.

"Bold of you to assume I'm trying to impress you." His grin never wavers. "Though I'm flattered you think I'd go to such lengths."

The silence that follows feels loaded. This little detour isn't just about getting you to medical—it's about something else. A game, maybe, or a message. With V, it's hard to tell where the performance ends and reality begins.

"So what's the real reason for the scenic route?" You can't help asking. It's weird how safe you feel in his arms, considering he could probably kill you fifteen different ways without breaking a sweat.

"Call it... building rapport." His voice drips honey-sweet mischief. "You're quite the talk of the castle these days. Thought I'd see what all the fuss is about."

A laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. There's something absurdly hilarious about being carried through the gang's headquarters by one of its most lethal members.

"Well, don't get too attached." The words come out lighter than intended. "This doesn't make us friends."

His chuckle vibrates through his chest. "Give it time." When his eyes meet yours, they're dancing with amusement. "Besides, isn't this more fun than limping alone?"

More members pass by, their stares lingering a bit too long. You know tomorrow the castle will be buzzing with gossip about this little parade, but somehow you can't bring yourself to care.

"Fun's one word for it." You crack a smile despite yourself. "But just so we're clear—I'm staying out of whatever's going on between you and Jeon."

Something dark flickers across his face at the mention of Jeon, his thorny aura constricting for just a second before relaxing again.

"Wouldn't expect anything else." There's actual respect in his voice now. "You've got a mind of your own. That's rare around here."

The infirmary door finally comes into view. This weird little moment of almost-friendship hangs in the air between you.

"End of the line." V announces with theatrical flair. "I must say, this has been delightfully entertaining."

The wooden barrier of the infirmary looms ahead, but V shows no signs of letting you down. Before you can voice your protest, he shifts you slightly to pull out his digital card, swiping it with practiced ease. The panel blinks green, and he sweeps through the door like he's making a grand entrance at a red carpet event.

You're starting to feel less like a patient and more like a prop in V's latest dramatic production.

"Not you again, V. Get out of here."

J-Hope doesn't even bother looking up from his paperwork, his voice dripping with the kind of exasperation that only comes from dealing with V's antics on a regular basis.

"But it's an emergency, Hobs!" V's pout is so exaggerated it should come with its own spotlight. "This young lady has been severely injured."

J-Hope finally turns around, giving you a quick once-over before fixing V with an unimpressed stare. "That's what you say every three business days."

"Ah, but this time it's different, I promise." V's grin could charm snakes, but J-Hope seems immune.

"And why exactly should I believe you?" He crosses his arms. "You know I only handle council cases and actual emergencies."

V sets you down on the nearest bed with surprising gentleness, his playful demeanor dimming just slightly. "I know, I know. But look at her ankle. It's swollen like a balloon. I couldn't just leave her hobbling around, could I?"

J-Hope sighs but steps closer to examine your injury. His touch is clinical and professional as he assesses the damage. "Fine. But this is the last time, V. You can't keep using the infirmary as your personal clinic for every damsel you distress."

"Damsel I distress?" V laughs, eyes dancing with mischief. "That's a new one. But I appreciate your assistance, Hobs. You're a true friend."

"Don't 'true friend' me." J-Hope rolls his eyes, gathering his medical supplies. "I'm only doing this because it's my job. And because she actually looks like she needs help, unlike your usual guests."

V lounges against a counter like he owns the place, watching J-Hope gather supplies. "Come on, give me some credit. I do bring real patients sometimes."

"Yeah, once every solar eclipse." J-Hope doesn't even look up from his medical kit. His earthy, sandalwood scent mixes with the sharp hospital smell of the infirmary.

V just shrugs, that playful grin still plastered on his face.

J-Hope finally turns to you, all business now. "Let's check that ankle." Then to V: "Get out."

"Think I'll stick around." V doesn't budge an inch. "Make sure she's in capable hands and all that."

"Right, because you're such an expert on medical care." J-Hope rolls his eyes. "Just admit you're bored and looking for entertainment."

V's laugh bounces off the sterile walls. "Maybe. Or maybe I just care deeply about my fellow gang members' wellbeing."

"Ignore him," J-Hope tells you, voice gentler than you expected from someone who looks perpetually done with everyone's shit. "This might hurt a bit."

You try to focus on J-Hope's treatment, but it's hard with V hovering nearby, his thorny aura filling the room. There's something almost fascinating about watching these two interact—like they can't stand each other but also can't help falling into this familiar pattern of bickering.

It hits you then, sitting on this hospital bed with one of the gang's most dangerous members playing guard dog while the chief medical officer patches you up—you've somehow stumbled right into the middle of Kkangpae's complicated web of relationships. And judging by the way V's still watching everything like a hawk, you're not getting untangled anytime soon.

The quiet of the infirmary shatters when the door slams open with enough force to make you jump. J-Hope doesn't even flinch—probably used to dramatic entrances by now.

Chaewon bursts in looking like she just ran a marathon, panic written all over her face. When she spots you on the bed with J-Hope working on your ankle and V lounging nearby, that panic turns to pure rage.

She doesn't say a word. Just marches straight up to V and slaps him so hard the sound echoes off the sterile walls. V, being V, doesn't even have the decency to look hurt. Just keeps grinning like this is all terribly amusing.

"Wow, you're feisty today, Chaechae." He rubs his cheek, still smiling. The nickname only seems to piss her off more.

"You absolute asshole." Chaewon's practically vibrating with anger. "I let you handle cross-training with my division for one day and someone gets hurt? What the hell, V?"

V throws his hands up, the picture of innocence. "Hey now, this one's not on me. Blame Jeon."

"Jeon?" She scoffs like the very idea is ridiculous. "Yeah, right."

You figure you should probably step in before Chaewon decides to slap V again. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but your division chief shouldn't have to deal with assault charges today.

"Actually..." You clear your throat. "It kind of was Jeon. I mean, technically it was my fault."

Everyone turns to stare at you. Even J-Hope pauses his ankle-wrapping to raise an eyebrow.

"I tried to ambush him," you explain, heat creeping up your neck. "There were these weird noises in the forest, then footsteps, and I thought maybe it was an enemy or something. Turned out to be Jeon. And then we found out it was all just V's paintball game."

Chaewon's anger dims a little as she looks at you, but when she turns back to V, there's still plenty of bite in her voice. "Paintball? Again? Are you actually five years old?"

"Guilty." V's grin gets wider, if that's even possible. "But you have to admit, it keeps things interesting around here."

"Can we focus on the actual patient?" J-Hope cuts through the tension, sounding like he's one dramatic moment away from throwing everyone out. "You can kill each other later, preferably not in my infirmary."

Chaewon's shoulders drop a little, but you can still see worry lines creasing her forehead as she moves closer to your bed. Her presence feels protective, almost maternal—which is weird considering she can't be that much older than you.

"You okay?" She asks softly, then shoots V a glare that could melt steel. "I should've known better than to let them handle cross-training. Especially those two."

V just keeps grinning like this is the most entertaining show he's watched all week. He steps back, giving Chaewon space, but you notice he doesn't actually leave. Probably hoping for more drama.

"It's fine," you try to sound reassuring. "Just a sprain. Could've happened to anyone."

Chaewon's face says she's not buying it. The look she gives you reminds you of when your mom knew you were lying about doing your homework. Meanwhile, V's just chilling against the wall, watching everything unfold like it's his personal Netflix series.

J-Hope works on your ankle in silence, occasionally muttering what sounds like curses under his breath. The infirmary fills with an awkward mix of Chaewon's worried sighs, J-Hope's grumpy instructions, and V's unhelpful commentary about proper ankle-wrapping technique that makes J-Hope's eye twitch.

"There." J-Hope finally sits back, your ankle wrapped tight in elastic bandage. "Nothing serious, but you need to rest. Keep it elevated above your heart, keep the compression on. Should be fine in a couple weeks."

Your stomach drops. "I'm sorry—did you say weeks?"

"If you're lucky." He stands up with a scoff that suggests he's seen way too many idiots ignore his advice. "Could be longer if you try to play hero."

You look at Chaewon, hoping she'll say something about how that timeline is ridiculous.

Two weeks of no training?

You'll be behind everyone else, t̶o̶t̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶l̶e̶s̶s̶ completely out of practice by the time you're healed.

"I can't just not train for two weeks." The words come out whiny, but you're desperate. Two weeks of doing nothing while everyone else gets stronger? No way.

"Hell fucking no." J-Hope's voice is definite as he digs through medical drawers. "I'm not dealing with Jeon 2.0. You either rest for two weeks or I'll make it two months."

"That's why he avoids this place like the plague." V's still lounging in the doorway like he owns it, looking way too amused by everything.

J-Hope slams a drawer shut. "God forbid that fucker lets me do my actual job." He finally finds what he's looking for—a small bottle of pills. "Here." He tosses them at you with surprising accuracy. "Ibuprofen. One every eight hours. Six if you're dying, which you won't be if you actually rest."

"But—"

"Two. Weeks." Each word comes out like a threat. "Unless you want to become my permanent resident." His scowl could curdle milk. "And you—" He rounds on V, who's still grinning like this is the best entertainment he's had all day. "Get that bastard in here. His check-up's three months late."

V actually laughs at that. "What makes you think I have any control over what Mr. Stick-up-his-ass does?"

"Maybe he'll show up just to spite you." J-Hope's voice is dry as dust.

"Your optimism is adorable."

"Well, hope is literally my name." A rare smirk crosses J-Hope's face before his signature frown returns. "And you owe me, you dramatic little shit."

"As you wish, oh great healer." V throws his hands up in mock surrender, laying the theatrics on thick. "Your humble servant shall attempt this impossible task."

You stare at the bottle of ibuprofen in your hands, turning it over and over like maybe if you fidget with it enough, the label will change from "two weeks rest" to something more bearable. The thought of being benched for that long makes your stomach twist.

Two weeks is forever in gang time. Everyone else will be getting stronger, better, more valuable, while you're stuck playing invalid. By the time you're back on your feet, you'll be so far behind it'll be like starting over.

"Hey." The bed dips as Chaewon sits beside you, her presence grounding and familiar. "I can see those wheels turning. Don't stress. We'll figure something out."

"Actually," J-Hope pipes up from where he's finally managed to shoo V out the door. "You've got cross-training with my division coming up anyway. Could knock that out while you're healing. We always need an extra pair of hands here, and it'll keep you from going stir-crazy."

"Seriously?" You glance between them, hardly daring to hope. Medical training sounds way better than two weeks of staring at your ceiling.

"Makes sense." Chaewon nods, and something in her tone makes you think she's already working out the details in her head. "We can reschedule your Assassination Division training too. They can do individual sessions to work around your injury."

Wait.

Individual sessions? As in... one-on-one training? With V?

With Jeon?

Your brain short-circuits for a second before logic kicks back in. Cross-training exists for a reason—coordination between divisions is crucial in this life-or-death world you've chosen. One wrong move, one miscommunication, and people end up dead. If private lessons are what it takes to stay in the game, then t̶h̶a̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶t̶e̶r̶r̶i̶f̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ that's what you'll do.

"Okay." Your voice comes out smaller than intended, but you mean it.

"Good." J-Hope shoves his hands in his pockets, already looking done with this conversation. "See you tomorrow before lunch then."

"See you tomorrow, chief." You manage a smile, even as your mind races with possibilities—both exciting and terrifying—of what these next two weeks might bring.

Chaewon insists on wheeling you back to your room herself. The halls feel longer from wheelchair height, and her silence as she pushes you isn't helping. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head, probably already reworking training schedules around your stupid ankle.

She swipes her card at the elevator before you can even reach for yours. The ride up is quiet except for the soft hum of machinery and your own thoughts about how spectacularly you managed to mess up your first cross-training session.

The elevator dings open to your division's floor, and immediately you hear laughter spilling out from the lounge. Eunchae and Sakura are sprawled across the couch, but their smiles fade as soon as they spot you rolling in like some kind of injury parade.

"Holy shit, what happened?" Eunchae practically teleports to your side, crouching next to the wheelchair with wide eyes.

"Yeah, we heard all this commotion earlier but then you just... vanished." Sakura hovers nearby, her gaze bouncing between your wrapped ankle and your face like she's trying to piece together what went wrong.

You let out a long breath. "So... funny story. I tried to ambush Jeon during V's paintball game because I thought he was an enemy infiltrator or something."

"Oh no." Sakura's face does this thing where she's trying not to wince but totally failing.

"What the hell?" Eunchae's protective side flares up immediately. "Did that asshole body slam you or something?"

"Actually, no." You can't help but laugh at how ridiculous it all sounds now. "He just... countered me. Really easily. I'm the one who fucked up my landing."

"That's rough, buddy." Eunchae squeezes your shoulder, and you're grateful for how normal she's making this feel. "We played it smart—just hid behind trees and watched everyone else lose their minds."

"Yeah, except someone turned out to be weirdly good with a paintball gun." Eunchae nudges Sakura with her elbow. "Better watch out, Jeon. You've got competition."

Quick footsteps in the hallway make you look up. Yunjin bursts into the lounge like she's being chased, pink hair flying everywhere, face flushed.

"I heard voices and—oh my god, are you okay?" The words tumble out of her in a rush. "I couldn't find you after all that shooting started and I got so worried and—"

"Just a sprained ankle," you cut off her spiral with what you hope is a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, really."

Her shoulders drop a little, but she's still hovering like a concerned mother hen. "I got you dinner from the cafeteria. Figured you might be hungry after... everything."

The gesture makes something warm bloom in your chest. "Thanks, Yun. You're the best."

Chaewon clears her throat, reminding everyone she's still here. "Alright, enough chit-chat. Time to get you to bed. Doctor's orders."

Your little entourage follows as Chaewon wheels you to your room—Yunjin with the food tray balanced carefully in her hands, Eunchae and Sakura trailing behind like excited puppies. The scene would almost be funny if your ankle wasn't throbbing with every tiny bump in the floor.

Once you're settled in bed (after Yunjin fusses with your pillows for a solid minute), everyone finds spots to perch. The food smells amazing, and you realize you're actually starving.

"So what happened after I got taken out?" you ask between bites. "Did anyone else get ambushed by grumpy snipers?"

Sakura practically bounces in her seat. "Oh my god, you missed the best part! V did this insane action-movie roll thing when someone tried to corner him—"

"He looked like a deranged raccoon," Eunchae cuts in, making Yunjin snort water through her nose.

You lean back against your mountain of pillows (thanks, Yunjin), letting their chatter and laughter wash over you. Your ankle still hurts like a bitch, and the thought of dealing with Jeon and V for the next two weeks makes you want to scream a little. But right now, surrounded by these idiots who somehow became your family...

Maybe it won't be completely terrible.

t̶e̶r̶r̶i̶b̶l̶e̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶J̶e̶o̶n̶'̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ ̶p̶e̶r̶f̶e̶c̶t̶ ̶f̶a̶c̶e̶

Morning hits different when your whole body feels like it's been run over by a truck. Between last night's paintball drama and your throbbing ankle, you sleep through your usual breakfast time. Not that there's much point in early rising when you're stuck playing invalid anyway.

By the time you make it to the cafeteria, the morning rush is long gone. Your beloved croissants are just a distant memory, replaced by sad-looking toast and a fried egg that's probably been sitting under the heat lamp for hours. You grab a cup of earl gray because there's no way in hell you're touching that brown water they call coffee at this hour.

At least Eunchae's still around. She's like Yunjin's louder, bolder evil twin—in the best way possible. While Yunjin's off somewhere being productive (thanks to that whole "new year, new me" thing), Eunchae's happy to keep you company, practically writing poetry about her breakfast sandwich. The girl takes her food seriously, and honestly? You respect that.

When breakfast's done, she insists on walking you to the infirmary. You've swapped the wheelchair for crutches because hobbling around on sticks somehow feels less pathetic than being rolled everywhere like some kind of injured parade float.

You slide your card at J-Hope's private wing, expecting rejection—his space is usually reserved for council members and people who are literally dying. But apparently he's added you to his VIP list because the scanner blinks green without hesitation.

J-Hope actually looks pleased when you walk in, which is weird enough to make you do a double-take. Then again, he probably doesn't get many patients who actually follow his instructions. Must be a nice change from dealing with gang leaders who think they're too important for basic medical care.

Eunchae gives you a warm wave and friendly nod before disappearing, leaving you alone with the medical chief. The quiet efficiency of his workspace and his focused presence makes everything feel weirdly... peaceful.

"Nice to see someone following orders for once," he mutters, not looking up from what appears to be a small mountain of paperwork.

"You didn't exactly make it optional." Your lips twitch into a crooked smile.

"Never do." He grunts, shuffling papers. "Some people are just too stubborn to live."

"Can't you pull rank on them? Being head of medicine and all?" The question slips out before you can stop it.

"Oh, I do. More than I'd like." His voice carries years of dealing with difficult patients. "In here, I'm god. They pull rank, I pull rank. Doesn't matter if you're the supreme leader of the universe—I'll uno reverse card your ass so fast your head will spin."

"Bet that goes over well with the big shots."

"Their faces are always priceless." He actually smirks, tapping a stack of papers into perfect alignment. "Now, ready to learn how to not kill people with medical supplies?"

"Born ready." You settle into a chair, trying not to look too eager. After all, how hard can it be?

The infirmary honestly feels very different from the rest of the castle—all sterile air and quiet efficiency. J-Hope moves around like he's performing some kind of medical ballet, laying out supplies with the kind of precision that makes you think he could probably do this in his sleep.

Which, you guess, he probably can.

"Alright, lesson one." He snaps on latex gloves. "Stitching wounds isn't like sewing clothes. You fuck up, get sloppy with cleanliness, and your patient gets an infection. In our line of work, that's not just inconvenient—it's deadly."

You pull on your own gloves, the latex clinging weird and tight to your fingers. J-Hope picks up a suture needle, holding it between you like he's showing off a prized possession.

"What about when we're in the middle of nowhere?" The question slips out before you can stop it. "You know, during missions when shit goes sideways?"

He sets the needle down, and something in his expression shifts. The overhead light catches the tired lines around his eyes—probably from years of patching up stubborn gang members at ungodly hours.

"Field medicine is different," he says, suddenly sounding more like a battle-hardened mentor than a cranky doctor. "Clean is still better, but sometimes you've got to choose between perfect and alive. When someone's bleeding out in some warehouse, you work with what you've got."

He grabs a bottle of disinfectant, tapping it with one finger. "This? This is your new best friend. Small enough to carry anywhere, strong enough to maybe keep someone from dying of infection in a pinch."

"What about stitches?" The question slips out before you can stop it. The thought of someone bleeding out because you don't know what you're doing makes your stomach turn.

J-Hope nods like he gets it. His usual grumpiness softens into something more teacher-like. "In the field? Use whatever you've got—fishing line, clean thread, even fibers from sterilized cloth. Main thing is getting that wound closed before they bleed out or it gets infected."

He lets that sink in for a moment, fiddling with something metallic between his fingers. For all his crankiness, there's something reassuring about how seriously he takes this stuff.

"But the second—and I mean second—you're back, you bring them to me." His voice goes hard again. "This isn't permanent fixing, it's just keeping them alive until they reach actual medical care."

He holds up what looks like a weirdly curved needle. "This is what we use for stitching. Curved makes it easier to control, especially for beginners." His fingers dance over different types of thread. "Absorbable sutures for internal wounds, non-absorbable for surface cuts."

"Yeah, that means absolutely nothing to me."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "Right. Let's dumb it down." He reaches for what looks like a small medical kit. "In the field, you won't have time to play doctor. Your emergency kit will have basic curved needles and non-absorbable thread. Simple, reliable, gets the job done."

"And the other kind? The absorbable ones?"

"Those are for surgery—internal stuff. They dissolve on their own." He waves vaguely at the door. "Out there? Stick to non-absorbable. Quick and dirty fixes until you can get them proper help."

"So it's basically just... sewing someone up?" You try not to sound as skeptical as you feel.

"If you want to oversimplify it, sure." His dark eyes lock onto yours, dead serious. "But this isn't patching up your favorite jeans. You've got to line everything up right, make it tight enough to hold but not so tight it causes damage. And for fuck's sake, keep everything as clean as humanly possible."

You nod along, trying to picture yourself actually doing this in the field. The thought of having someone's life literally in your hands makes your stomach do weird flips.

"What about really bad wounds?" The question slips out before you can stop yourself. "Like, really bad."

J-Hope's hands pause over his supplies. Something in his expression shifts, and suddenly you remember he's probably seen exactly what you're imagining.

"Then your priority is keeping them alive long enough to get to me." His voice goes flat, professional. "Stop the bleeding first. Stabilize what you can. Stitches won't mean shit if they bleed out before you finish the first one." He looks you dead in the eye. "I'm good at what I do, but I can't bring back the dead."

The words hit harder than you expected. It's easy to forget sometimes, working in Seduction, that this isn't just some elaborate roleplay. People actually die in this life.

You watch as J-Hope threads the needle easily, his movements quick and precise. When he turns to what looks like a piece of fake skin, you try not to think too hard about where it came from or why it looks so... realistic.

"Pay attention now." He positions the needle above the practice pad. "Basic interrupted suture—it's your best friend in the field. Simple, reliable, gets the job done."

The way he handles the needle is almost mesmerizing. Each movement flows into the next like he's done this a million times before. Which, considering his job, he probably has. The stitches line up perfectly, neat little soldiers in a row.

"The key is entering at a 90-degree angle," he explains, demonstrating another perfect stitch. "Too shallow, it won't hold. Too deep, you cause more damage."

You lean closer, fascinated despite yourself. It's kind of beautiful, in a morbid way. Like some deadly form of embroidery.

"Your turn." He holds out the needle, and suddenly this doesn't seem so fascinating anymore. "Time to see if you've been paying attention."

Your hand definitely doesn't shake when you take it. Not even a little. And if it does? Well, that's between you and whatever poor bastard ends up needing your stitches someday.

You take a deep breath and try to copy J-Hope's movements. Your hands aren't nearly as steady as his, but he guides you with surprising patience, adjusting your grip here and the angle there. For someone so cranky, he's turning out to be a pretty decent teacher.

"Not completely terrible for a first try." The words sound almost like praise coming from him. "This kind of skill? Could mean the difference between life and death out there."

A soft beep cuts through the quiet, followed by the infirmary door swinging open.

Cool air rushes in, making goosebumps rise on your arms.

You don't need to look to know who it is—there's only one person whose presence makes the air feel this heavy, like the moment before rain.

Jeon walks in, all dark clothes and darker mood. His eyes find yours first, something unreadable flickering across his face before he turns to J-Hope.

"Looks like V didn't hold back," J-Hope says with a smirk.

Jeon just grunts, which seems to be his default response to everything.

"Sit." J-Hope points to a nearby chair like he's commanding a particularly stubborn dog. "I'll deal with you in a minute."

You try not to stare as Jeon drops into the chair, but it's hard to ignore how he fills up the space. Everything about him radiates tension—from the set of his jaw to the way his fingers tap against his thigh. The guy looks about as comfortable as a cat in water.

The contrast between them is almost funny—J-Hope moving around with his usual efficient calm while Jeon sits there emanating pure "don't touch me" energy. You catch a whiff of pine and mint when he shifts, and something in your chest does this weird little flip that you choose to ignore.

You try to focus on your suturing practice, but your eyes keep drifting to Jeon. It's weird seeing him like this—quiet, still, almost t̶a̶m̶e̶ docile. The great Chief of Tactical Assassinations, reduced to sitting in a medical chair waiting for J-Hope like some kind of obedient schoolboy.

He looks... different here. Less like the intimidating force of nature who uses you as paintball bait, more like someone who really, really doesn't want to be at the doctor's. His knee bounces slightly—probably the only sign he'll allow of his discomfort.

The door clicks shut behind J-Hope, and suddenly you're very aware that you're alone with Jeon. The silence feels heavy, broken only by the soft rustle of medical supplies and his measured breathing.

You force yourself to concentrate on the needle in your hand. These stitches aren't going to practice themselves, and the last thing you need is to look incompetent in front of him. But it's hard to focus when you can feel him there.

It's just so strange seeing him hold himself back like this. Usually his presence fills any room he's in, but now he seems almost... contained. Like he's trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable.

It doesn't work though—you're still hyper-aware of every tiny movement he makes.

The silence stretches until it feels like another person in the room. You've never been good with awkward silences, but starting a conversation with Jeon feels about as appealing as pulling teeth. Besides, what would you even say?

Thanks for using me as bait earlier, that was super fun?

"How's the ankle?"

His voice catches you off guard—low and quiet, missing that sharp edge he usually carries. For a second, you're not sure if you imagined it.

"It's... getting better," you manage, your voice too loud in the quiet room. "J-Hope knows what he's doing."

The corner of Jeon's mouth twitches up, and for a second he looks almost human. "Yeah, give that man a white coat and suddenly he thinks he runs the place."

There's this weird undertone of respect when he says it though. Like maybe he actually appreciates having someone who isn't afraid to boss him around. You get it —there's something weirdly comforting about J-Hope's no-nonsense attitude, even when he's being a grumpy dictator about your ankle.

"He definitely doesn't take shit from anyone." You find yourself smiling a little, because it's true. Even the mighty Jeon has to sit and wait his turn in here.

Something flickers across his face and he looks away quickly, like he just remembered he's supposed to be an intimidating gang leader, not someone who makes small talk about cranky doctors.

You go back to your stitching, trying to focus on the fake skin instead of how weird it feels to have an almost normal conversation with him. The silence creeps back in, but it's different now. Less like you're both waiting for the other to attack, more like... well, like two people just waiting for the doctor.

You try to focus on your stitching practice, but something feels off. There's a rustle that doesn't quite fit with the usual infirmary sounds—too careful, too measured.

When you glance up, you catch Jeon staring at... a pastry bag? One that definitely wasn't there when he first walked in. Or maybe it was and you were too distracted by his whole everything to notice.

He's looking down at it like it holds the secrets of the universe, brow furrowed in concentration. It's weird seeing the Chief of Tactical Assassinations, terror of rival gangs, looking almost t̶e̶r̶r̶i̶f̶i̶e̶d̶ uncertain about a paper bag.

What could possibly have the human hurricane so wrapped up in thought? The last time you saw him this intense, he was lining up a sniper shot. But now he's just... staring. At pastries.

Before you can ponder this mystery further, J-Hope bursts back in, arms loaded with enough medical supplies to patch up a small army. The sudden entrance makes Jeon flinch—just barely, but you catch it. His eyes snap up like he's been caught doing something wrong.

Then, in a move that feels almost panicked (if Jeon did panic, which he obviously doesn't), he thrusts the bag at J-Hope.

"For you." The words come out gruff and quick. His tattooed hand extends the bag like he's diffusing a bomb, gaze fixed somewhere over J-Hope's left shoulder.

J-Hope freezes mid-step, and honestly? Fair reaction. If this was V pulling something like this, it'd be normal—probably part of some elaborate prank. But Jeon? The same guy who treats medical check-ups like personal attacks? Bringing peace offerings?

"You know I don't even like croissants, right?" J-Hope stares at the bag like it might bite him. The disbelief in his voice makes you pause mid-stitch.

"It was the last one." Jeon crosses his arms, all defensive posture and clenched jaw.

J-Hope holds the pastry bag between two fingers like it's evidence in a crime scene. When he looks up at Jeon, his eyebrows disappear into his hairline. "What's the catch? Trying to bribe your way out of the physical?"

"What am I, V now?" Jeon's shrug carries enough attitude to fill the room. "No catch. Just thought I'd... you know." He waves vaguely at the bag, looking like every word physically pains him.

You focus very intently on your stitching practice, pretending you're not eavesdropping on whatever this weird interaction is. The silence stretches until J-Hope breaks it.

"Right..." He drags the word out like he's talking to a particularly suspicious child. "Since when do you do random acts of kindness?"

Something flickers across Jeon's face. His eyes meet yours for a split second, and your stomach does this weird flip that you choose to blame on hunger. The scent of pine gets stronger as his irritation builds.

"Since now, apparently." His voice could freeze hell over. "If you don't want it, give it to her. I don't give a shit."

J-Hope's eyebrows climb even higher as he turns to you, lips twitching. "Want a potentially poisoned croissant? I can test it first if you're feeling brave."

Your ears definitely perk up at the mention of croissant. After that sad excuse for breakfast this morning, you're practically going through withdrawal. The smell of butter and fresh pastry wafting from the bag is t̶o̶r̶t̶u̶r̶e̶ tempting.

"I'll risk it." You can't help but laugh a little. "Can't say no to a good croissant, even if it comes from suspicious sources."

Jeon's eyes find yours for a split second. Something colors his face—too quick to catch—before that familiar blank mask slides back into place. He doesn't say anything, but some of that rigid tension leaves his shoulders.

J-Hope passes you the bag, but his attention stays locked on Jeon like he's trying to solve a particularly frustrating puzzle. The pastry's still warm when you take it, and honestly? If it's poisoned, at least you'll die happy.

"Right then." J-Hope's voice goes stern. "Your turn, Mr. I-Can-Walk-It-Off. You're three months late for your check-up." He emphasizes each word like he's scolding a child. "Three months, Jeon."

Jeon responds with his signature grunt, finally hauling himself out of the chair. He moves to the medical bed a few meters away from you, and you can smell the pine notes slowly dissipating. Not that you're paying attention to how he smells. Obviously.

The infirmary suddenly feels smaller when Jeon steps into the medical bed area. There's something about the way he moves—all quiet power and deadly grace—that reminds you of his rank. Every single one of his steps looks calculated, like he's constantly ready for anything.

He shrugs off his leather jacket, and you try really hard not to stare. t̶r̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶k̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶d̶ The movement is unfairly fluid, drawing attention to arms that definitely come from years of training. The kind of definition that makes you think he could probably lift you without breaking a sweat. (You already know he can)

Your eyes drift to his hands—the same ones you've seen wrapped around coffee cups or handling weapons, but never really looked at before. The infirmary's harsh lighting makes the tattoos on his wrists pop, intricate designs disappearing under his black t-shirt like secrets waiting to be discovered. His fingers are long and elegant despite their strength, decorated with simple silver and black rings that somehow make them look even more dangerous.

He grabs the hem of his shirt and—oh.

Oh.

The movement is so casual it's almost offensive, the way he just strips off his shirt like it's nothing. Like he doesn't know exactly what he's doing to your blood pressure right now.

A tattoo catches your eye, peeking above his waistband. "Devil never sleeps" inked in bold letters right above the waistband of his pants, and suddenly you're very interested in what that might mean. t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶l̶a̶t̶e̶r̶

Your gaze definitely doesn't trail up his torso. You absolutely don't notice the thin silver chain you've never seen before, probably always hidden under that stupid leather jacket. And you certainly don't catalog how the muscles in his chest look strong but not bulky, or how his abs are defined but natural-looking, the kind that come from actual fighting instead of just gym sessions.

And for some stupid reason the pine scent comes back, stronger, and you realize you might be staring. But honestly? If he's going to just casually strip in front of you, he can deal with the consequences. You're only human, after all.

You try to focus on your stitching practice. Really, you do. But there's something magnetic about the way his scars and tattoos map stories across his skin. Each mark feels like a chapter you shouldn't want to read but can't help being curious about. It's not just that he's t̶o̶o̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶ physically impressive—it's the way he wears his battle wounds like armor.

Jeon doesn't seem to notice or care about your wandering eyes. He carries himself with this casual confidence that suggests being shirtless in the infirmary is just another weekday for him. He shifts a bit, settling on the edge of the medical bed.

You snap your attention back to your suture pad so fast you nearly stab yourself with the needle. This is not the time to appreciate how the fluorescent lights catch on his silver chain, or how his muscles shift when he—nope. Absolutely not. Back to stitching.

J-Hope transforms before your eyes, seemingly possessed by professional focus. He grabs his stethoscope with ease, moving toward Jeon like he's approaching any other patient. Not a deadly gang leader who could probably kill someone with his a snap of his fingers.

"Let's check that heart of yours first, Jeon." The words come out clinical, detached.

Jeon just nods, and it's weird seeing him this... compliant. His stormy presence seems to settle into something quieter.

When the stethoscope touches Jeon's chest, the room goes so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You definitely don't notice how the metal disc sits right above one of his tattoos, or how his breathing stays perfectly steady despite the cold touch.

"Heart sounds good, strong and regular." J-Hope moves the stethoscope, all business.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes because of course his heart's perfect too.

Stupid, perfect Jeon with his stupid, perfect everything.

Jeon stares straight ahead at some fascinating spot on the wall, the perfect picture of indifference. His chest rises and falls steadily under J-Hope's stethoscope, and you definitely don't notice how the muscles shift with each breath. Nope. Not at all.

"Deep breaths," J-Hope instructs, all business.

Jeon complies without a word. The movement makes his chest expand more noticeably, and you suddenly find your suturing practice absolutely fascinating.

Super interesting, these fake stitches. Totally worth your complete attention.

Except it's not.

Your hands are going through the motions, but your mind keeps wandering. The needle weaves in and out mechanically while you try really hard not to think about the way the infirmary lights catch on Jeon's silver chain, or how his jaw clenches slightly when J-Hope's stethoscope touches a cold spot.

You feel like you're intruding on something private, which is stupid because it's just a medical exam. But there's something weirdly intimate about watching someone like Jeon—who's usually wrapped in leather and attitude—sitting here half-naked and compliant.

The needle slips.

"Shit—" The sharp sting makes you jump.

A bright red bead of blood wells up on your fingertip, because apparently you can't even do basic stitching when you're t̶o̶o̶ ̶b̶u̶s̶y̶ ̶o̶g̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ slightly distracted.

"You okay over there?" J-Hope looks up from his examination.

You're about to brush it off when you feel it—Jeon's eyes on you. The weight of his gaze hits like a physical thing, dark and heavy and way too knowing. Like he can tell exactly why you stabbed yourself, and t̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ that's... interesting.

There's something in that look—something that makes your skin prickle and your breath catch.

Is he annoyed? Amused? Or maybe...

He turns away before you can figure it out, but the heat lingers on your skin like a brand.

Jeon grabs his shirt and pulls it back on in one smooth motion. You try not to notice how the fabric clings slightly before settling into place, or how his hair gets messed up for just a second before he runs his fingers through it. Just like that, the mask slides back on—Chief of Tactical Assassinations restored, that glimpse of something more human safely locked away again.

Your finger throbs, a tiny punishment for letting yourself get distracted.

t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶w̶h̶y̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶n̶i̶c̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶s̶ Real professional, getting caught staring like some rookie. In this life, distractions get people killed. Though usually not by sewing needles.

J-Hope's already moving around the room, putting away his supplies. He definitely catches you trying to hide your pricked finger, because suddenly he's there, slapping a band-aid on it with more force than strictly necessary.

"Pay attention next time," he grumbles, but there's something almost fond in how annoyed he sounds. "These needles aren't toys."

Jeon's already heading for the door, leather jacket back in place. He moves like someone who can't wait to put as much distance between himself and this medical checkup as possible.

Can't really blame him—you'd probably bolt too if you had to deal with J-Hope's judgment this early in the morning.

He pauses at the door though, just for a second. Those dark eyes find yours one last time, and something in your chest does this weird little thing that has nothing to do with the pine and mint scent he leaves behind.

Then he's gone, and you're left wondering what kind of storms are brewing behind those gloomy eyes.

next | index

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[astra-ryuusei]

it's so fun to rotate my mecha AU skystar in my brain because the way I imagine Human!Starscream/Ulchtar in this is like…almost a similar vibe to Reigen from MP100??? with some extra angst sprinkled in there for flavor

He wasn't as bad to Skyfire as the people who'd pulled him apart and experimented on him while he was in his coma, but that's a really low bar, and he was still using him as a specimen for study. This isn't something he properly starts to unpack until after he reactivates Sky in a moment of desperation and they make their escape.

So he starts out dancing on this big ol' web of lies and half-truths because he’s (quite reasonably) afraid telling the whole truth to the Giant Fucking Robot Following Him Around will get him killed. He promises to help Sky recover his lost memories and learn to use his powers for good and all that stuff, except he does this almost entirely out of self-interest (and spite for his former employers) because he really needs at least one person on his side right now. Then he gets bamboozled when Sky takes this to heart and starts ACTUALLY using his abilities to help others, inadvertently dragging Starscream into it.

Sky is simultaneously the only rock Star has to hold onto and also a force of absolute chaos in his life because he's just...kind of a walking (flying?) magnet for Weird Shit™ even before he starts actively seeking out trouble. And between the two of them they have roughly one brain cell, which means that half the time their shared goals are achieved purely by accident and Starscream just happens to be in a position to pretend it was intentional. He’s in so far over his head and he has no earthly clue how he hasn’t drowned yet.

While this is all happening Star tries very hard to ignore the fact that he’s rapidly getting attached to Sky and also starting to feel something that might be called guilt for his role in Sky’s suffering. This works for a while until...Wait. Is. Is that something vaguely resembling a conscience that’s starting to grow in the back of his mind? No! Nooooo! Anything but thaaaaat!

TLDR: Human!Starscream is the feral, spite-fueled master of Bullshitting His Way To Victory, Skyfire unwittingly drags him kicking and screaming into being sort of a decent person (they’re still working on the “decent person” part), and neither of these two science dorks have any clue what they're doing

[my-insanity-is-an-artform]

Woe, Crack Baby Shitten au be upon thee.

(@bamsara 's little doodle of Nari being dubbed Cult Babysitter and holding a little lamb irrevocably changed my brain chemistry. So of course, I'm now making it everyone else's problem with the headcanon that Narinder is good with children of all ages.)

A couple of months before Lamb gets captured, they meet another lamb or a very small flock that have to split up very quickly after meeting since there's more chance of the lamb species surviving if they aren't all together. In the meeting, Lamb agrees to try continue the lamb species and gets pregnant via *magic* or afab.

Of course, all of the lambs are captured and killed with Lamb being the last, still a few months away from giving birth.

But then they are chosen and resurrected by The One Who Waits.

Fun fact: a fetus can survive for a few minutes after the death of the carrier. (Also this is a world with magic and gods in it. Logic means nothing to me.)

Lamb starts their cult, crusades across the lands and meets all sorts of allies and enemies. All while quietly mourning their entire species and the child that never would be.

Right up until they go into labour.

The baby is lamb through and through with soft wool, wide eyes, tiny cloven hooves and floppy ears.

But the influence of the crown is blazingly obvious since the baby's wool is jet black and they have three red eyes.

I can't tell which would be funnier. Lamb giving birth in The Lonely Shack or while they are physically in The Gateway just post-beating Leshy. Like they were in active labour right throughout fighting Leshy and had no idea. Either way, it's Shocked Pikachu .jpeg all around. (My fucking KINGDOM for a doodle of this.)

Various dot point shenanigans under the cut

There are two ways to go about this. But either way, Baby is not staying in the Cult. Too dangerous, especially if word gets to the Bishops about there being another lamb. So Lamb can and will speed-run this shit. So it takes them about 4-6 years to fully defeat the Bishops.

Baby stays with Ratau:

Lamb goes and yells at TOWW. They are panicking because they have no idea how to raise a probably-half-god baby.

Narinder has no idea what happened right up until Lamb comes in screaming about him being a Baby Daddy and child support.

Ratau is Grandpa now. This is his fate. He embraces the Grandpa life.

Baby learns how to play knucklebones before they can speak.

Shrumy tries to wager with Lamb/Ratau for the whole Baby. Once and only Once.

Baby's first word is dice. Or die.

Baby worships TOWW, but they are a Baby and don't really comprehend worship so the small shrine gets a lot of flowers, neat rocks and some drawings. Narinder always gives a lot of gold for them. And No, it's not favouritism. Shut up.

Baby knows curses. This is concerning for everyone except Baby.

Baby gets a little TOWW doll. It's their favourite, it goes everywhere with them and washing it is a nightmare for everyone involved.

Baby is jokingly referred to as TOWW's most Devoted Follower because of the doll.

↑ this action will have consequences.

When Baby is not so baby, they make stuff out of their wool for TOWW and for his disciples. Or asks their parent to help them make stuff.

Cue Lamb awkwardly giving the three some very wonky scarves or hats.

Baal loves it.

Aym refuses to take his off. Ever.

Narinder is actually upset cause his doesn't fit. He's too big. He had to wear it like a little ring.

Or Baby stays/is brought to the Gateway ala Aym and Baal situation:

If Lamb gives birth in the Gateway, everyone is getting a free midwifery education and free trauma. The cats want a refund.

Ya know when a baby instinctively clasps their little hand around a finger and it's like a crime to pull away? That but with Narinder's big ass claw that Baby can only barely cling to.

Aym cries the first time he holds Baby.

Baal straight-up refuses to give Baby back for a good hour.

Lamb visits at least once a day.

Lamb also brings baby things since a baby will do what a baby will do.

Depending on how old Aym and Baal were when they were gifted, Narinder is either learning all of this for the first time or is reminded of how challenging baby care can be.

Narinder purrs = a zonked Baby.

Baby's first word is Vessel.

Baby is taught to fight. Lamb doesn't like it but accepts it.

Baby has a little lamb doll. It is only due to the fact the afterlife doesn't have dirt that they avoid the nightmare of trying to wash it.

Baby is jokingly referred to as TOWW's most Devoted Follower since they refuse to be parted with him for long.

↑ this action will have consequences.

Lamb teaches Baby about being a lamb and if Aym and Baal join in, well who are they to deny their child's only friends/guardians this?

Narinder and Lamb figure out how to get Baby to teleport to the Living World and Baby gets to visit Grandpa Ratau.

Post-game shenanigans.

Narinder: Give me back my crown. Lamb: Ok. Sure. Narinder: I will now sacrifice my most devoted follower (the Lamb) for my freedom. Lamb: *Kill Bill sirens*

Lamb somehow doesn't kill Aym and Baal and instead kidnaps them via Indoctrination Circle out of spite/ reluctance to hurt them.

Narinder feels betrayed that the Lamb would refuse like this and kidnap his acolytes. He was going to resurrect them! He can't fully commit to raising a child while being the God of Death.

Lamb feels betrayed that Narinder would want to kill their child. After all they've been through together! After the way they saw him treat Baby with such gentleness and now he wants to kill them?!

This comes out in the very final moments right before Lamb goes to give the final blow.

Narinder: You are a vengeful false idol and a traitor! Lamb: At least I'm not a monster who wanted to kill my own child! Narinder: Wait. What.

This devolves into a massive argument with divorced-couple vibes.

Narinder is insulted and a bit hurt they thought he would kill his own child.

Lamb is hurt that Narinder would just demand their sacrifice without even talking to them about the whole situation.

Either way the lesson learned is Narinder needs to be more blunt and Lamb needs to not jump to conclusions.

So they are left with a newly usurped Narinder and a newly crowned Lamb. Oops.

Baby is with Ratau when all of this is going down.

Baby is happy their family is all together properly. Baby is Not Happy about this whole cult thing demanding attention from Their Baba.

The Cult is baffled by the sight of their leader with both a baby and a Spouse? Bitterly Divorced Ex? Estranged Co-parent?! What ever it is, most of them have elected not to touch the whole situation with a 10ft barge pole.

Baby learns what the word Father is and how that word refers to Narinder.

Baby calls Narinder Father/Papa/Daddy. Instant KO.

Narinder somehow gains a small hoard of children that like to follow him. Baby Does Not Approve.

Baby also Does Not Approve of this newly formed rift between their parents.

Cue Parent Trap level of Shenanigans.

Aym and Baal are recruited.

The Hoard of Children are recruited. Baby now Slightly Approves.

Narinder and Lamb have an Actual Conversation after the 18th time they get locked in the confessional together.

This of course evolves into Narilamb.

Bishops are saved from purgatory.

Despite all attempts otherwise, Baby is introduced to them.

Shocked Pikachu .jpeg x4

Maybe after a few more years, not-so-baby Baby wants a sibling.

This got so much longer than I thought but yes. Shitten Shenanigans: Accidental Child Acquisition flavoured.

[enhafilthandfiction]

$ex Tape - Sim Jake

A/N : Hi Anon, your brain is so good for this, this literally screams Jake. Ik for a fact that this boy would want to make a sex tape lmao, istg he's a sex symbol to me. Anyway, happy reading! :)

Synopsis : Jake has been begging you to film a porn tape, but you didn't expect him to film when you were having a quickie. What happens when his friends come back home to find you having sex on the living room couch, and even worse, filming a sex tape?

Pairing : Bf!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings : kissing, make outs, quickie, fingering, filming you two having sex, unprotected sex, withdrawal, voyeurism.

Word Count : 1,600 Words

Masterlist

Your very risky, horny boyfriend Jake has been begging you to make a sex tape for a while now, claiming that making your own porn was so hot. Every time, you would think about it but you were always a little unsure. Until all his begging started to get annoying.

"Fine. We'll film it next time we have sex" you announced, looking at his beaming smile of happiness. Sometimes he acted like a kid who constantly whines until they get their candy.

"Yeahh, promise?" he asked you with that big smile, holding out his pinky finger at you.

You roll your eyes. "Promise" you also put out your pinky finger, him intertwining it with yours before leaning in to give you a hug and place a little sneaky kiss on your neck.

What you didn't know was however, is that the next time you two had sex, it was a quickie against time, before his friends came back home.

It started by you sitting in his lap for a nice hug until he started kissing you and your neck, a simple kiss turning into a heated make out session on the main couch.

"Please Y/n, it'll be quick I promise" he pleads, begging you to fuck him on the living room couch before his friends come back.

"Jake, they're coming back in a little less than half an hour!" you whine, trying to shake your head no, but deep down, you knew how irresistible he was and that you were going to give in.

He looked at you with puppy eyes, and you knew he was was hard. Fuck, you couldn't embarrass him like that in front of his friends or letting him down by making him take care of it himself. "Fine" you roll your eyes, pulling off your top.

He smiles widely and reaches for his phone which was somewhere on the couch as well. He opens the camera and places it at the end of the couch the camera facing you both and your position. You almost forgot about the promise you made him, sighing when you realised he wanted to film the porn tape now.

You shut your mouth and hoped it was gonna be quick, not wanting to risk the others finding you fucking, and even worse, making a sex tape. But Jake on the other hand, loved it. He loved the risk and it egged him on even more.

"Ready?" he asked you before pressing the play button to start recording. "Ready" you reply, trying to make it as quick as possible. He presses play and looks up at you with a cheeky smile one last time before leaning up to kiss your lips, his hands finding your bare hips.

His top was already off, haven removed it way before you came up to him since it was getting hot lately. He just needed to get your panties off and slide his down. "Get up for me baby" he whispers, his low husky voice ringing in your ears.

You get up and let him slide your panties down, eagerly pulling you back on him. Once you're back on him with his legs between your knees, his hand instantly snakes down to between your body, feeling your wetness before spreading it to your clit, rubbing messy cirlces.

"Fuck you're so wet" he points out, licking his lips "You like this don't you? the guys barging in hm? watching you take my cock like a good slut?" he teases, not really expecting them to be home that early, since Heeseung usually buys the whole ramen isle when they go shopping.

All you can do is whimper above him as he slides in one of his nimble fingers into your tight cunt and hear as he hums out at your warmth. "F-fuck Jake" you moan out, forgetting about the stupid video he's recording, the pleasure getting overwhelming.

"Yeah? Feels good?" he asks, looking up at your pleasured face which already gives him an answer. You nod your head vigorously, biting your lips as he fingers you at a quicker pace. When he feels you clenching tighter around him, he just removes his fingers, watching you frown at the loss of contact.

He easily lifts you up by your waist just to slide down his sweats along with his boxer briefs before lowering you back on his thigh. His cock springs up, almost slapping against his abs, before he gives it a few strokes, grunting at the feeling.

He fists his cock a few more times before looking up at you expectedly with a smug grin on his face. "C'mon baby, ride me" he orders, putting his hands to his sides and leaving it up to you.

You shakily lift your hips up, grabbing the base of his cock and aligning it with your entrance. You slowly sink down on it, the thickness stretching you out so well. "F-fuckkk" you breathe out, trying to adjust for a second.

He wastes no time grabbing your ass, moving you up and down his cock. "Yeah, show them how well you can take it" he says, referring to the viewers who will be watching the video. Probably not anyone but himself to masturbate with it, he's too possessive to send a video of you getting fucked to anyone.

"Fuck yeah, just like that baby, you're doing so well" he tips his head back, focusing on the pleasure of your tight, wet pussy gripping and clenching around his dick like that.

With his hands on your ass he can easily move you up and down, fucking you on him, rather than letting you ride him. He gets lost in pleasure and so do you, losing track of time. You don't acknowledge the fact that the video's already about 20 minutes long and suddenly..

"We're bac- fuck" Heeseung's words are cut off when he notices the scene infront of him. Right in the living room on the main couch which was almost at the entrance.

"You have got to be kidding me" Sunghoon deadpans as Jay makes his way over to the couch to see what the guys are seeing. With the shopping bags long forgotten, they gather around the couch, thankful that despite their appearances, Jake kept going.

"You little shit" you whisper in his ear, your burning face hidden in the crook of his neck, shy of the guy's attentive stares. Jake loves the fact that he's the only one getting pussy, the other having to desperately palm themselves over their jeans, not being able to do anything.

They notice Jake's phone recording and share glances between each other, thinking that you two had an only fans account or something. Jake smirks to himself, fucking harder up into you, making you moan into his neck.

"J-Jake fuckkk" you try to muffle into his neck but it's for nothing because they all heard you and felt jealous of him, gripping their hardening cocks through their jeans.

"Yeah baby, tell them who's fucking you this good, let them hear you moan my name" he bites his lips as he feels you becoming tighter around him, indicating you're close. He also loved the way his friends were almost moaning messes, desperately wanting to jerk themselves off but also wanting to be respectful.

"Fuck Jake, grope her tits" none other than Heeseung desperately said. Jake looks up at you before sliding his hands up your waist to your breasts, grabbing them and squeezing them in his palms. He could've sworn he saw Heeseung cum in his pants at the sight.

"Jakey I'm cumming!" you warned, him agreeing to your statement. "Me too baby, s-shit" he informs you, thrusting up into you a few more times before pulling out and jerking himself off, cumming on your tummy and tits for all of them to see.

"Fuckk" he moaned out one last time before leaning back against the couch, hands still holding your waist with your face still hidden in his neck. "So good" he praises "You did so well for me, doll"

Sunghoon suddenly bent over the couch to grab Jake's phone, stopping the video. "Sooo, how much are you selling this tape for?" he asks, referring to the video, wanting to buy it and watch it.

"It doesn't matter, I'm willing to pay anything, send it to me" clarifies Heeseung from the other side of the couch.

"Guys, you've all seen in it first person why do you need the video?" Jay questions as if they were dumb.

"To re-watch it?" they say almost together.

You and Jake giggle realising how awkward this is. "Can you guys get the fuck out so we can dress up? Please?" he asks the guys, his face turning red.

"Geez, next time you should get a room" Heeseung says, not meaning it since if you did get a room, he wouldn't be able to witness porn on the main couch. "Yeah, save yourself some embarrassment" Sunghoon continues, also making his way out of the living room.

When they were all out, you lightly slapped Jake on his bicep, scolding him for this and telling him that you were right all along. "I told you that they'd catch us!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms. "They probably think we're a horny couple with a twitter account or only fans now" you pout, looking down in shame.

"That's because we are, Honey" he confirms "A very horny couple indeed, and we will be starting a twitter account" he smiles proudly like its the best idea he's ever come up with. "Wanna show you off online, make more people jealous of me you know?"

"Jake, you're really stupid sometimes"

Hiii, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! sorry for not posting yesterday, I had a fever fever, fever, fever. Anyways, have a good day/night and remember that ily <333

[laura1633]

Your Charles in Max's lap is so cuteeeeee! 🥹 sometimes I can't help thinking that Jimmy and Sassy might think Charles is their fellow feline because all of them have brown fluffy hair/fur and green eyes but idk whether Jimmy and Sassy will love or hate Charles. Love him because he's our fellows! Or hate him because why daddy let that big kitty sleeps on his bed and eats human food! Or even pity him because why daddy makes Charlie whine and scream so much ;(

Since Charles just wanna be in Max's lap as much as his cats, I'd love to read Charles with cat ear headband that makes Max thinks that, for the first time in his life, he wanna fuck a kitty. His kitty. If you're okay with that ofc 🥹

Ahhh anon I am so sorry for the delay in responding but I hope you see this because this made me laugh and smile like crazy - I think I read the line ‘why daddy makes Charlie whine and scream so much’ like a million times!!’ honestly it was the highlight of my whole week!

To be honest I wasn’t sure how to write this one at all but I have given it a go because your message made me smile so much. It's only short but drabble below

“What are you wearing?” Max studies Charles curiously. 

“You don’t like them?” Charles grins and re-adjusts the little kitten ear headband he picked up at the store. It really was too cute to leave behind especially because Max is always calling him his third kitty. Charles didn’t understand the comparison at first but the more time he spends in Max’s apartment the more he realises that there are some striking similarities between himself and the home’s other resident felines. Charles sometimes makes a soft little happy rumbling sound similar to a purr and he is  constantly clambering on top of his boyfriend desperate for attention. Plus as much as Charles would like to deny it he does get awfully whiny when he is hungry. He’s come to accept that he is rather cat like, in fact it’s probably the reason Max loves him so much. 

“They’re cute” Max laughs, Charles actually looks rather adorable with the tiny little ears perched on top of his fluffy hair and his big beautiful eyes staring excitedly.

The Dutchman watches in fascination as his boyfriend sets the shopping bags down and then gets on to his hands and knees. 

“What are you…? “ Max’s words trail off and his brain short circuits momentarily as Charles starts slowly crawling towards him seductively, his movements almost cat-like in their elegance. 

“Don’t you want to pet me?” Charles teases as he climbs up on to his boyfriend’s lap and starts head butting and nuzzling against his neck. It’s meant to be a joke except Charles feels Max shift beneath him and realises his boyfriend is getting turned on. The Monegasque flicks out his tongue and laps up Max’s neck before going in with some smaller kitten licks.

“Charles” Max’s breath shudders out of him as he feels a warm tongue behind his ear, “I …” 

“You going to make me purr?” Charles coos. For a joke purchase the little headband is working wonders on Max, Charles is half inclined to go back and get the tail to match.

“Baby I …” Max groans as Charles grinds down against him, “You look good”

“You want to play with your kitty?” Charles’ heart pounds against his ribcage as he feels Max getting harder beneath him. The Dutchman is also breathing much heavier now, his ragged inhales and exhales making his chest swell over and over. 

“Yes” Max admits as he grips his hands into Charles’ waist. He’s got no idea why it’s turning him on so much but he’s chasing out Charles’ lips and kissing him desperately. 

Charles gives him what he wants at first. Kisses him back with just as much enthusiasm but as the Monegasque  pulls away and starts to tease Max gets to his feet and hauls Charles up in his arms - it's pretty much what he would do with any misbehaving cat, except he has rather different intentions towards this particularly kitty. 

Charles squeals as Max carries him through to the bedroom and places him down on the bed. The Monegasque lifts his hips and lets his boyfriend rip him out of his clothes, everything except for the headband of course. 

“You’re so pretty” Max hums as he strokes his hands over Charles’ body and smiles at how cute his boyfriend looks all rosy faced and with two little pointy cat ears. Charles mewls at the touch and pulls Max back down over him, this time nipping and nosing up his boyfriend’s neck as he gets impatient for more. 

Max laughs against him but gives up control almost instantly and starts to open Charles up, pressing his fingers into his boyfriend until he is stretched out nicely. It doesn’t really take too long, it’s offseason so they’ve been pretty much at it all hours of they day. Charles finds it a lot more fun to bottom when he knows he hasn’t got to jump straight in an F1 car afterwards. 

“Please - “ the Monegasque keens and starts pawing at his boyfriend once he’s ready, his little grabby hands reaching out over and over and trying to divert attention to where he wants it next. 

“My pretty little kitty” Max hums as he leans in and peppers Charles’ jaw with kisses. The Monegasque spreads his legs wide so Max can line up easily but as Max pushes in Charles hisses loudly. 

The initial stretch is worth it though and Charles’ hissing soon melts into happy little whimpers and whines as Max starts fucking him. It’s slow at first, gentle, almost reverent. Max’s hands skate over Charles’ body and stroke through his hair. 

As Charles gets more desperate he starts arching his back and scratching down his boyfriend’s body, his nails leaving red marks against the skin. Max seems to get the hint though, the Dutchman doing exactly as told and picking up the pace until they are both moaning against each other. 

Max mouths at Charles’ neck and thrusts deep inside him as he comes, the Dutchman groaning loudly and desperately reaching out to stroke Charles to orgasm second later. 

“Fuck, that was…” Max eases himself of out Charles and drops down on to the bed next to him, “Different. That was different” 

Charles can’t help but giggle, he thought his latest purchase would get him a round of laughter not Max heatedly ripping his clothes off of him. The Monegasque keeps his little ears on as he does the other very cat like thing he likes to do and curls his body around his boyfriend so they can take a little cat nap together. 

[rodolfoparras]

Woke up and thought: I need TF141+Rudy to be my princesses!! But then my brain went to Price as my princess!! (I tend to be one of those people who is kind of like mom friend, but also guard dog??? Protective as hell but absolutely remembers small details about you and somehow just knows your emotional state??? So I guess my brain was like: GIVE THEM THE PRINCESS TREATMENT!! ☠️🤧)

He’s older and has always been this gruff masculine man. Every partner he’s had has always been his princess, and while he did love it, something in him tugged and tugged until he realized it was wanting and jealousy.

So of course when you join and despite the profession you’re in, you’re so kind. Not in the sweet bbg way, but in the “I will take care of and protect you no matter what” sir yes sir way. And it throws him for a loop!

But he sees the positive affect, how around base the tension the TF used to carry despite being safe is ebbing away. And that tug of want absolutely starts to burn inside of him.

You’re not even this hulking beast of a man, but something about you just screams safety and protection. And the way you take care of them all, has a wave of heat flashing through him. The way you subtly check on Ghost because anything too overt feels patronizing to him, the way you make sure Soap can calm his anger properly and give him you to vent to, making sure Gaz is truly alright after a difficult choice and making sure he feels settled. But the way you check on him is just… more.

Hand at the small of his back, to let him know you’re there. Somehow you figured out physical touch grounds him. Giving him water and even bringing him food when he’s been too focused on paperwork. Somehow noticing all his little quirks and tells, and always being there when he needs it despite the fact he can do this by himself. Hell you’re the only one to figure out that he gets hangry… well more so grumpy hungry and always get him his favorite.

So of course he has to ask, granted he’s nervous but he does. And somehow it just leads to you giving him the full blown princess treatment he’s always wanted. Hell, that pool of arousal in his gut becomes ever so present when you actually call him princess! (Not forcible feminization, just princess title ☺️)

Idk I just want Price to be my princess, Gaz to be my princess, Soap to be my princess, Ghost to be my princess, and Rudy to be my princess. 🤧🤧 I want to love and dote on those idiots so much!

(If anything made you uncomfortable pls let me know! I will apologize! <33)

🐻‍❄️-

Hear me out sugar..

1.

It first started when you bought a new bucket hat for him. He’d jokingly complained that one more rough landing to the ground and his bucket hat would fall apart.

You had stepped up offered to buy him a new, being fully serious about it too

He had accepted the offer, even jokingly said he’d buy the most expensive one to make a whole in you wallet

But he found himself frozen in place when you picked out the most high end store for outdoor clothes.

He didn’t even know what to say when you walked ahead of him over to where the hats were displayed, searching high and low for the perfect bucket hat.

You hadn’t even asked for his size but instead put different types of hats on him, standing so close he could feel your knees knocking together, calloused fingers grazing his skin as you felt the material under your fingertips, feeling heat creep his cheeks as your eyes stayed glued to him.

For the first time he feels an unfamiliar sort of feeling bubbling up inside of him.

2.

Undercover missions were his least favorite type of missions. It involved a lot of play and pretended and visiting place he usually wouldn’t be in, like a bar full of people half his age, drunk out of their minds and barely able to stand upright.

Price enjoyed a pint or two but this was way too much for his taste, had a grimace painting his face, something you quickly noticed.

“Not a fan?” You say, chuckling at the man’s obvious distaste.

“Never been” Price responds, carefully weaving his way through the floor of dancing bodies, with you following swift behind.

“How about I buy you a drink?” You don’t even turn to him to see the look on his face, already signaling for the bartender.

You hadn’t turned around to ask him his prefered drink already knowing it by heart for whatever reason, and once again he finds himself frozen in place, from utter confusion.

The bar was full of people but somehow you had managed to snag a chair for him, signaling for him to take a seat while you’d be left standing and once again he found himself speechless but sat downin anyway. As he takes a sip of his drink he notices your eyes on him.

“Good?” You ask, carefully gauging his face and once again he feels heat creep up his ears neck and cheeks, only managing a nod to your question.

“I’m just going to the bathroom real quick,” you say with a sheepish smile on your face and maybe he’d chid you for picking the worst moments to do your needs but he couldn’t focus on anything else but your hand on his elbow, your hot breath caressing his face and the way your cologne assaulted his senses as you leaned into him.

All he can do is nod in response before he continues to sip his drink, praying the liquor will keep him from saying something stupid.

It’s only been a couple of minutes that you’ve been gone before someone’s approaching him and attempting at making small talk.

Although he politely answers the stranger’s questions, it’s visible that Price is uncomfortable, shoulders rigid, smile forced and fingers fiddling with a napkin forgotten at the bar.

Suddenly there’s an arm around his waist, and he stiffens further before your cologne hits his sense and he feels himself relax in your embrace.

He doesn’t know what you had said to the other man all he could focus on is the warm palm on his back, fingers tattically brushing against the silver of his skin peeking through the shirt he’s wearing. But whatever you had said made the stranger nod his head, glass raising in the air before he walks away.

“Thank you” Price says, turning to you with a soft smile on his face

“Just doing my duty captain” you say with a smile on your face as you pull your hand away from his waist.

Another unfamiliar feeling bubbles up in his gut, this one he doesn’t like so much.

3. He once again finds himself in a bar, this time by his own choice, a place he’d picked to celebrate a successful mission.

He’d maybe had one two or three too many drinks when the world had started to spin around him, and someone, maybe soap? Maybe ghost? Had asked you to take him home.

Maybe if he’d been in his right mind he’d turn red at the fact that you were seeing him in such state, maybe if he’d been in his right mind he’d be able to feel the jolts coursing through his body from where your skin touched his. Maybe if he’d been in his right mind he realized how close you were to him, as you slung an arm around his waist, easily supporting him with your weight before taking him back to base.

Next thing he knows he’s waking up in his own room, a bit more sober than before, two bottles of water laying on his nightstand along with painkillers.

There’s even a washcloth on his bed and somehow he’s managed to strip himself down to his boxer and undershirt.

However before he could try decipher how he’d manage to do that in his drunken state, he hears his bathroom door squeak open and immediately flies out of bed, grabbing the first thing in his hand to defend himself which just happens to be-

"Painkillers? Really captain? I’d never guess that would be your weapon of choice”

There’s a brief moment of confusion, before it’s replaced with relazation and only then is he able to respond to your comment “oh piss of” he grunts out, throwing the bottle to the ground before he sits back down in his bed, hand clutching his throbbing head.

He hears you chuckle in response before the bed dips beside him.

“Here” you say, handing him the bottle he’d just thrown away.

He looks between the bottle and your face, heat creeping up his own face before he takes the pills in his hand.

Before he can even ask, you hand him a bottle of water and he does his best to ignore the jolts coursing through his fingertips as your hands briefly touch.

“Thanks” he says before he throws back the pills, swallowing them down with the water you gave him, and only then does he notice how thirst he is, quickly emptying the bottle in a matter of seconds.

“Want more?” You say, offering another bottle laying on the nightstand.

“No” he grunts out before he turns to look at you. “What are you doing here?” He says before he abruptly cuts himself off “I mean this is my room- not that you’re not allowed I mean-“ he continues to run his mouth only ever shutting up once he hears you laugh.

“It’s okay” you say waving away his worries “you got drunk and I helped you get back home, you wouldn’t let me leave though” his eyes widen at that, mouth ready to run again before you’re waving off his words with the flick of your hand “i helped you get in bed and by the time I brought you water and pain killers you had passed out, I kind of made a mess of the bathroom looking for painkillers so I thought I should fix that before I left “ you say with a sheepish look on your face.

It’s only now he realizes that you’ve been the one to strip the clothes off of him, you’ve seen every scar every mark he’d kept hidden under his clothing and once again he feels heat creeping up his cheeks.

He shouldn’t be this comfortable being touched by a stranger while unconscious but you aren’t a stranger and you’d only ever touched him with care and consideration like now as your hand is hovering over his in case he doesn’t want you touching him.

“If I made you feel uncomfortable-“

“No!” He says a bit too hasty before he corrects himself “I mean it’s alright, thank you for taking care of me”

It seems like that’s all you need to hear for the worry to trickle out of your bones, shoulders slumping and hand caressing his own.

“Alright, good” you say with a soft smile on your face hand resting atop of his own before you pull away “well it’s late and I need to go to bed or else you won’t see me bright and early in the morning” you say as you get up.

Although you probably meant the training sessions you were supposed to have in the morning he couldn’t help the unfamiliar feeling from bubbling up inside, maybe he should call it familiar since he’s felt it a couple of times now.

“Sleep well captain” you say sending him a playful salute before walking through the door.

And as the door shuts close Price realizes one thing.

He’s fucked.

[wei-ying-kexing-apologist]

WKA's 2024 Tumblr Top 10

I was tagged in this game by @lurkingshan did it on my phone and therefore did not spend a lot of time making it look nice. But since I was just tagged in this again by @telomeke I figured I'd take advantage of the edit feature to zhuzh it up a little bit. So!

1. PhayaTharn's Informative Morning- 441 notes - Jan 3 2024

gif by @firstmix

I am so lucky that I love writing essays and that I do not do it for the notes or the clout, because this post took me like two seconds to create and was my most popular of the year.

2. Feelings Made Visible: Design Choices in The Sign essay- 409 notes - Jan 5 2024

gif by @thisautistic

I am so sad about the trajectory of my enjoyment of The Sign because I was having fun writing essays about it at the beginning. But by the end I was strongly contemplating writing a fix-it fic, though I quickly decided I did not have the brain space to write that whole thing out. ANYWAY...I really enjoyed writing this essay because lighting is my favorite part of theater performances and something I really love seeing and talking about in all visual mediums, but I have far fewer opportunities to do so in television because a lot of the time the lighting is more dedicated to looking realistic. The Sign gave me the opportunity to talk about lighting choices for the first time in forever.

3. Symptoms of a Systems Error essay- 399 notes - Feb 2 2024

gif by @dramascene

ALL THESE END OF YEAR POSTS ARE REMINDING ME THAT @lurkingshan AND I OWE THIS SHOW THE RE-WATCH WE SAID WE WERE GOING TO DO. I was definitely a little skeptical going in to this show about the premise of this man being in a video game, but it had one of the smartest uses of that setting I've seen and I really enjoyed all the subtle ways that they used the world around them to deepen the story at hand and I'm really glad so many people seemed to enjoy this essay as well!

4. Episode 10: The Couch essay- 353 notes - Apr 21 2024

Here is a great example of @lurkingshan demonstrating that I can and will take essay requests for shows I am watching. I cannot begin to explain in words the chokehold this show had on me, so hopefully ya'll will just see the fact that I wrote ten essays about only six episodes of this show as evidence of how much back rent this show owes me for living in my head. I LOVE MICROEXPRESSIONS AND CHRIS CHU DID SUCH A PHENOMENAL GODDAMN JOB WITH HIS PORTRAYAL OF WEI QIAN AND I NEED TO SCREAM THAT FROM THE HEAVENS AT EVERY GIVEN OPPORTUNITY~

5. Parallels in Unknown Episode 9 essay- 329 notes - Apr 14 2024

gif by @ueasking

It appears like Unknown fever was taking hold of a hell of a lot of us on this website considering that literally half of my most popular posts of 2024 were from this show. I think a really important aspect of this show and why I enjoyed it so much was that it was really taking its time demonstrating how much history Wei Qian has to overcome in order to take on that mental shift of viewing Wei Zi Yuan as a romantic partner instead of as his brother. Which is why I was so sad that they fucked up the sex scene in Ep 11 and did not spend as much time as they really should have cementing Qian's shifted feelings after the confrontation at the stairs at the end of Episode 10. EITHER WAY I do think the use of parallels was a really smart way of showing that recontextualization.

6. Fantasy v. Reality: The Sign Episode 7 essay- 328 notes - Jan 8 2024

I am such a huge proponent of talking about sex scenes in television not only because they are enjoyable to watch but because they are choreographed scenes that take a lot of planning and a lot of work and I think it is important to be able to see and approach conversations around intimacy on screen in such a way. Getting a chance to write about how the sex scene in episode 7 merged Phaya and Tharn's fantasies and also their lighting cues was really fun! I hope that 2025 grants me enough energy to get back on the essay writing wagon in full force because I miss doing it but also have felt incredibly uninspired by a lot of what I've seen in the BL sector the last couple months.

7. LOSING MY MIND OVER UNKNOWN EPISODE 8 essay- 284 notes - Apr 10 2024

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

So sorry to you, Wei Qian, but unfortunately you sent your brother to America in hopes he would lose interest in you and instead he came back a menace!

8. Top Five "Oh" Moments ask- 282 notes - Jan 15 2024

let this be a lesson folks that it is a-okay to ask questions if you have them. I love getting asks and I know a lot of my mutuals do as well! I really loved getting this question and being allowed to talk about my top five!

9. Unknown Episode 7 Brain Rot Moments essay- 281 notes - Apr 1 2024

Going back through these posts is fun for me because I really like seeing the different ways I have engaged in media analysis and commentary. This time it was literally just a bullet-pointed list of things that I knew were making me chew glass about this show and I still loved writing it!

10. Unknown, Ep 10: Qian and Yuan- 166 notes - Apr 26 2024

Yippe! A good old fashioned Captain Hands Scene Breakdown what a time I had!

Created by TumblrTop10

I will tag @aeternallis and @kangarew-tail-7 in this, obviously you are under no obligation to participate if you do not wish to!

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

xsoleil boys x reader || wedding day

a/n: im bored as hell now guys 😭 im just gonna like post a bunch of headcanon stuff LOL i might post like fanfics, but thats a maybe wwww ALSO ALSO starting to reaaally like the later waves of niji, so ill prob focus on mainly xsoleil, noctyx, iluna, etc. ill dribble in some luxiem from time to time, but like the other waves need attention too 🙌 i might do some of the fem waves, but im not sure how to write those LOL

HEX HAYWIRE

bro this man's voice makes my brain go haywire

anyways uh

would definitely just be like very happy and stoic during yalls wedding

he'd treat you like his pretty princess/prince

anyways uhhh he would be that kind of romantic person to like take your hand and kiss it once you go to the front

oh my lord, im struggling to find his green flags when all i listen to from his asmrs are the yandere ones

UHM...... i mean like reception would be cute, like he'd dance with you

like beauty and the beast vibes ykkk

help im genuinely struggling w anything thats positive about marrying him 💀

DOPPIO DROPSCYTHE

AWWW HED BE SMILING AND LIKE EXCITED

LIKE HE WOULD BE WAITING FOR YOU EXCITEDLY AT THE FRONT

i feel like doppio would just be generally so excited and happy hes finally marrying the person he loves so much

he would fix his hair JUST FOR THIS

this is also the only event he will never be late to

oh god he would be so nervous when the ceremony actually starts

like hes worried he'll mess up his parts or someone will object

BUT it probably wont happen and itll be a great wedding!!

reception!doppio would be fucking lit

HE WOULD BE THE LIFE OF THE PARTY

he'd already be making dad jokes even if he isnt a dad yet

i swear, he would be kissing your forehead or cheek every few minutes

oh my goodness, drunk doppio would be so sweet

like i can just imagine him getting tipsy while like the maid of honor and the groomsman doing their little speech things and him getting really emotional

VER VERMILLION

honestly, i think he would cry at yalls wedding

like, he just screams 'emotionally fragile man on occasion'

the second he sees you in your wedding dress/suit/wtv, he'll start tearing up knowing that yall r gonna be married

and he loves you ya know

he'd hide the fact he was tearing up when you get to the front www

five bucks, doppio would be stifling his laughter when he sees ver crying

reception would be wholesome

ver would be whispering things to you while you guys dance

and not just random things

like i mean in korean

yeah his cute ass voice when he talks in korean

the voice where you want to keel over and throw up because it's really goddamn adorable and kind of attractive because people who speak more than one language is always somewhat attractive

tipsy ver is something to live for

it doesn't always happen but when it does its either hilarious as fuck or really cute and wholesome

like when he gets drunk, there's a 50% chance he starts to emote on the dance floor with an equally drunk doppio

or he could be holding your hand the whole time and staying by your side

a/n: WWWW im sorry i half assed hex's hcs LMAO i just genuinely cant see something that isnt overly explicit or kinky that wouldnt happen on ur wedding so thats why his is like the shortest lmao 💀 errhmm yeah, also ver is my #1 oshi thats why he has like the uh longest one LMAO UHHM yeah whatever lols have a good timezone

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Chimera!Perrine AU

à la Falin Dungeon Meshi

(also for the sake of the AU, monsters exist in Meadowlark)

Perrine gets swallowed whole by a manticore RIP

The only thing that makes it out is an arm, as they were reaching out, so when the manticore’s jaws snapped shut, the arm gets severed

Kingsley, who had been with Perrine, has to carry that arm back to the cottage

The Croon goes fucking ballistic when they hear about what happened

They storm to the Storyteller and Yarrow and demand that Story rewrites the past so Perrine is alive again

Story refuses at first, as resurrection would disrupt the balance of the universe, but after a bit of strangulation, they agree

So the Harkers and the Lark get together to take down a manticore! (Croon does all of the work)

And then once the manticore is dead, they start to dig through its because they need the body

Bad news! Only bones remain!

So, they have to use the flesh and muscle from the manticore to remake Perrine’s body

But it’s FINE!

Except that when Perrine is brought back, they’re like a centaur, but instead of a horse lower half, it’s the manticore

And Perrine is actually a lot less grateful than any of them expected

In fact, they’re actually really horrified

They scream at them all, especially the Croon, for bringing them back

They were finally at peace!

And now they’re in the body of a monster!

But enough of the backstory!

Now the actual headcanons!

They’re about four feet tall at the withers, so they’re not TOO big, certainly not as big as the actual manticore used to be, but they’re a lot bigger than they used to be

They have trouble controlling their new body parts, especially their tail and wings

And walking on four legs isn’t always easy

Perrine doesn’t perform for a long time

They don’t want anyone seeing them

“Perrine, why won’t you come sing with us?” “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I have a manticore attached to my BUTT!”

Plus, their vocal cords are fucked up, so they can’t sing as well as they used to

The kids bundle Perrine’s scorpion stinger in towels so they don’t accidentally sting someone (it’s almost happened several times before)

Perrine makes biscuits with their big ol lion paws (which usually rips up whatever they’re kneading)

They’re still adjusting to their size, so they bump into things a lot, then gets mad because of it

They’re big enough to carry at least two of the others on their back (or all three if they strain themself), but they REALLY don’t like to because it makes them feel dehumanized more than they already are just by existing

But hunting is a lot easier now!

No more need for their bow!

They need to eat A LOT MORE to sustain their body

Tita Amara teaches them how to fly

Sometimes the manticore’s beast brain takes over, but it’s FINE!

A little murder attempts on your friends never hurt anyone!

Perrine is an abomination of nature, and nature wants to right what has been wronged…

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Omfg congrats on the 2222! I’m sure many more to come!

Alright , hear me out. This idea consumed my brain the entire weekend.

AU Stripper!Frankie

I know, kinda out of character for him, but I can’t help it.

I recently « stumble » upon Magic Men of Australia on tik tok and instantly my mind went to Frankie.

Reader could be at his show and he chose her to come up on stage … after that , you write what you want .

What do you think Cee ?

Sweet anon - I am saving the best for last! Ngl, I might have drooled several times while writing stripper!Frankie. I might also have blacked out when I first saw your ask, thank you for sending in this delicious request. I hope you enjoy this cheeky oneshot, because 1.4k does not count as a drabble 😂 This reminds me of my dearest LJ's @prolix-yuy SW!Frankie universe, do go read it if you haven't yet!

Frankie Morales x stripper AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1460 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, bachelorette party (mis)behaviour, mentions of food

Okay, this is definitely not your scene.

The said scene being a rowdy bachelorette party in an intimate, soundproofed room draped in plush dark velvet and deep-seated sofas, disco lights pulsing in time with the booming bass that shakes your bones. 

And oh, and there’s a half-naked stripper gyrating to the music. Obviously.

Not that he doesn’t look good doing it. He absolutely does, and not in that chiselled, perfectly sculpted way you imagined all strippers would look like. He’s hot in a realistic way, if that makes sense - his arms are strong, his chest is broad and firm, but there’s just a touch of softness to his tummy that makes him human. 

It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen a naked man. Heck, who are you kidding, when was the last time you even saw a topless man?

But he might as well be completely starkers. The shorts he’s wearing are glorified panties, paper thin, and they do nothing to conceal the fact that he’s hung. You can see the whole business, front and back. For someone as well packed as he is between the legs, his behind is endearingly flat, but mercifully, it doesn’t seem to compromise his balance in any way.

The lean muscles in his arms flex and roll when he locks his hands behind his head, thighs bulging with corded muscle as he plants his feet, and then he thrusts - his bulge swinging heavily, defying gravity. 

He’s got to be half-hard, at least. There’s no way he’s that big standing at ease, so to speak. 

Of course, the girls are going wild. They’re screaming and hyperventilating, Cosmpolitans sloshing over manicured nails and staining their dresses as they throw dollar bills at him. He obliges, crawling onto the couch on all fours so that they can tuck the cash into the waistband of his shorts, copping a feel as they do.

Frankie doesn’t mind it. He plays along, grabbing the bride-to-be’s wrist after she smacks him on the ass, shoving her back into the couch before clambering over her. Getting onto his knees, he dances right in her face, grinning when she squeals and reaches around his waist to grab both his ass cheeks as he rolls his hips.

His eyes slide over to you, sitting a polite distance away as the other girls crowd around him, getting close and personal, not wanting to miss out on the action.

You, on the other hand, look like you’d rather be curled up in the far corner with a book and a warm drink. But he can tell that you’re trying your best, sipping away at your cocktail (with an endearing wince that you try to hide when you swallow), and bobbing to the music even though you’re clearly feeling out of place around your more outgoing friends.

Being the quiet one out of the guys, he gravitates towards your energy. 

Frankie always makes sure all of his customers have a good time in his session and that no one is left out, but he also wants you to be comfortable. Quietening his hips, he hops off the couch, taking two steps towards you, watching as your eyes widen, as if you want to bolt.

One corner of his lips inching upwards, he unfurls his fingers towards you, and the smile widens when you fit your smaller hand in the heart of his palm with a shy one of your own. Pulling you gently onto your feet, he surprises you with a firm tug next, spinning you around with your back to his chest. 

You smell sweet, like shampoo and soap. Not letting go of your hand, he puts his other one on your hip, and you instantly stiffen when your friends screech in excitement, obviously not used to being the centre of attention. 

Hooking his chin on your shoulder, he sways you to the music, his hips snug against yours. He feels you inhale sharply when his breath skims your skin, the shiver that goes through you unmistakable. He revels in your reaction, far more real and intimate than your friends’ drunken wandering hands. 

You slowly thaw in his arms, the tension easing out of your shoulders where the straps of your pretty dress sit, and he knows that you don’t mean to tease when the swell of your ass brushes his front, bolder as you move your hips to the beat.

When the song draws to a close far too soon, he turns you around, wrapping one arm around your waist to dip you backwards. You let go of his hand to grasp the back of his neck on reflex, and he takes the opportunity to glide one palm up the smooth expanse of your leg, before hitching it around his waist.

He sees more than hears the whimper that slips past your lips, and he may or may not be half-hard when he presses his hips between your thighs.

As your friends holler and wolf-whistle around you, he holds your gaze, not missing how your pupils blow wide in the flashing lights.

Then you duck your head, and he lets you go, the bride-to-be demanding his attention.

You happily fade into the background again, but he catches the way your knees buckle when you wobble on your heels back to the sofa.

You’re fucking adorable. 

The guys are tallying the tips for the bookkeeper in the break room when Pope comes in with a phone in his hand. ‘Fish, one of your customers left this behind. Do you know whose it is?’

Tapping on the lock screen - he sucks in a breath when you appear, posing with a big golden retriever. Your face is turned up into the sun, eyes closed in mid-laugh as the dog licks you on your cheek.

With a grunt, Frankie gets on his feet, a dull ache in the small of his back, which always happens when he thrusts a bit too vigorously. Tucking the phone safely in his pocket, he grabs his jacket and strides out, not seeing the guys looking curiously after him as he tosses over his shoulder, ‘Send me her address, Pope, I’ll drop it off.’

You jump when your laptop wakes up with a shrill ringtone. Clicking the green button, your best friend’s voice comes through the speakers. 

‘Hon, the strip club just called. You left your phone there.’

With a groan, your palm meets your forehead in a smack. ‘Oh shit, it always happens when I drink! Should I go pick it up, or -’

‘Don’t worry, I gave them your address.’

‘Wait, what? You gave them my address?’

‘Relax, they’re strippers, not serial killers.’

You shift your feet nervously. ‘Do you know who’s coming?’

‘The one who danced for us today, you lucky bitch.’

Your heart almost leaps out of your mouth as you panic. ‘What the - but I’ve taken off all my make up and I’m not wearing a bra, and I got fucking chili on the stove -’

Your doorbell rings, and you whisper, ‘Shit, he’s here!’

‘Say hi to the hottie for me, babe! Night!’

Padding on bare feet towards the door, you take a deep breath, and reach for the knob.

Warm brown eyes meet yours, but not before they dart over your wet hair and pyjamas. You cross your arms self-consciously, knowing that he must have caught a glimpse of your nipples under your thin sleep shirt.

He smiles, handing you the phone. ‘Glad I caught you before you went to bed.’

Jesus H. Christ. It really is a blessing that you didn’t know what he sounded like when he had his clothes off - 

You barely manage to squeak, your cheeks heating up. ‘Thanks so much for bringing it by, it was so clumsy of me.’

He shrugs easily, his gray tshirt bunching with the movement. ‘Happens. You’ll be surprised what people leave behind.’

‘What?’ you prompt, curiosity piqued.

‘I don’t strip and tell,’ he winks. ‘I’m Frankie, by the way.’

A handshake seems redundant after your close encounter earlier, so you give him your name and a smile. You admit, ‘I almost didn’t recognize you.’

He taps the beak of his cap. ‘It’s the hat.’

‘I like you better with clothes on,’ you blurt out impulsively, the alcohol still running thick through your veins.

He chuckles. ‘You might be the only one.’

He glances over your shoulder, breathing in the smell of simmering beef mince and tomatoes. ‘Are you cooking chili?’

You bite your lip. ‘Guilty. Case of midnight munchies.’

‘It smells delicious,’ he compliments you, lingering by the doorway and making no move to leave.

Emboldened, you ask, ‘Do you want some? I made way too much, as usaul.’

He grins, and it goes straight to your head. ‘I’d love to.’

[shara-dee]

Absolutely controversial review on 'Heatwaves' freshly out of the oven

okay, so this book is FUCKING INSANE.

and I don't mean it necessarily good.

I told someone in my comment section that I'm more or less positive about this book, but at the time I only reached the middle of the book and, well...

Let me lay out the facts first.

This book features:

• Pathological Altruism and God's Complex of Alex Chen

• Steph carrying the only brain cell

• Sapphic Drama™

• Many many flashbacks of Chen Family trauma

• Shit load of political drama

• And the equal amount of Daddy Issues

• A couple references both to Steph's Story and True Colors

• Immaculate voice acting from Erika Mori (this woman has range)

• Me, feeling sorry for Steph every chapter

Ahem. Now more in-depth and, as I hope, more coherent thoughts about Heatwaves. As was agreed between me and @areyouintogirlsorwhat, who listened to me yelling about it, I would describe this book as:

Shit happened. And also unhappened.

Let me just tell that, coming from me, as Alex and Steph are my dearest, I had a REALLY hard time with Alex in this book. A huge chunk of book is just Alex trying to understand that she doesn't need to overuse her powers to help people and- Well. It took her many pages to understand that even though all the events happen within only 2 days. It was really intense.

As for the setting, we enter Barbazal, a small town in Colorado, where we are just mashed into a big ass election drama. Yeah, election. Big Sigh. Actually super boring exposition and I didn't care much about most of the characters there, except some and pretty much in the end.

God knows, I was busy internally screaming at Alex.

Alex is. A lot in this book. And the worst thing, I can believe that canonically she would became a person from this book. I try to avoid spoilers as much as I can. But let's just say. SHE NEEDED TO STOP AND THINK FOR LITERALLY A SECOND AND THEN THIS BOOK WOULDN'T HAVE HALF OF ITS DRAMA.

Steph though? Is absolutely great. When I said she carries the only braincell out of the two of them I meant it. I was really feeling for her the whole book with how patient she was with Alez and how much she allowed her to do, still being at her side the whole time. And I mean it when I say that sometimes Alex could use Steph's angrier side.

Okay, I'm feeling like I'm too bitter about this book.

Actually it has so much potential. It makes a great job exploring Alex's character, her flaws, her thoughts, her powers, her overall feelings towards things. And I love how many flashbacks of her we have in book. Erika's voice breaking each time she says 'Dad', Alex always wondering how things could've been for her... She actually has character growth going on in this book. And it fills in some empty spaces the game has left. So even if I have a strong opinion about her certain choices, I really like how controversial she was there, because in the end it still makes her a really deep imperfect protagonist.

I didn't really care for the plot until it became super intense and insane. I thought I was going to explode reading the 16-18 chapters, because it had so much going on.

But, well, it still was an enjoyable experience nonetheless, BIG THANKS to Erika Mori who voiced it, I don't think I would've enjoyed it as much if it wasn't for her mad acting skills. Her acting as Steph is actually the cutest thing.

So yeah. My honest opinion? A solid 7/10 for me, but again, Erika makes me biased.

The plot is not really interesting, I suggest buying the audiobook specifically to hear Alex expressing all her emotions in character, really compensates for all the dubious shit she does.

I still would've bought it, even if I knew how much I would scream.

However, if you're not a big fan of Alex, I don't think you would like this book. If you want to read this book purely for Chenrich, I also think you will disappointed because even though they are still there, being cuties, their relationship is only a 25% of the book. And yes, again, there're many controversial things going on, so if you have hard time reading your fav making shitty decisions, maybe you should spare yourself.

Thank you for reading this review, will be happy to hear your thoughts if you read the book or if you have any questions and don't mind spoilers.

[dismas-n-dismay]

Hi! It's me again (I'm transferring to a bachelor's in biology this fall and I love the science that goes into the series so I love that you're exploring this)

Do either of them have hoarding instincts or dietary preferences or are they pretty much human in that regard?

They'd possibly be born with baby teeth, at least in Haze/Hazel's case, would that change anything? (Hazel would probably fit better because Falin is half French on her father's side from what I remember from the Adventurer's Bible and it feels even that they'd both get to name a kid but that's just my opinion)

Haru with his mouth full: Checkit!! Blegh!! Haize: Gross. Good job, Haru, you're a natural hunter!

Welcome back to part 10,000 of me talking about my silly ocs. Hi. hello. Thank you sooo much for coming back with more biology questions for these two hehehe >:]c

Diet Preferences?

These two are quite the oddballs. Haru is an insectivore by simple dragon nature while Haize is a carnivore by hers, though their elven and tallman sides balance them out to be closer to omnivores! Light dragons commonly eat bugs as they're the easiest prey to attract when ur big and flashy though this keeps them very lithe and they typically have more slender builds, though the proteins do help a lot. Conversely, red dragons being mostly carnivores results in their larger build and their obvious frequency to be the most dominant and persevering dragon species- y'know. Because they murk the other ones due to their weaker diets and builds.

Haru started to eat bugs right around the time it was warm enough for him to go outdoors without getting sick, I imagine he would've eaten a butterfly or a dragonfly much to Marcille's horror. Like that vine of the pug eating the butterfly with his owner screaming no! Backtracking a bit though to give some cool facts about baby light dragons because I decide the lore. I'm making them weird half mammal half bird-lizards because I think the variety is cool but this also means that - up until baby light dragons can open their eyes and properly attempt to hunt - they drink milk from their parents! (Whether or not this is crop milk like birds produce is entirely up to the reader's imagination, I will not judge but I will choose either one if asked)

So up until he started going outside, Haru was perfectly content just drinking milk like any other baby- Haize was not. Unlike Haru she was born with baby fangs!! Just little milk teeth to help her get a headstart for the world and such, but she grew hungrier for something more diverse than milk very quickly. Red dragons, unlike light dragons, don't do the whole milk thing so Haize was only partially satiated due to being part elf and tallman but the minute she was allowed to eat soft meats she basically refused to go back. So just imagine like a 1 year old eating various lunch meats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Honestly it was probably for the best, Haize's fangs bit into Marcille a lot and they were worried she might grow a taste for blood if she kept accidentally nicking her mom while trying to eat. She probably would have and it would've been a really bad habit to get rid of because she hadn't developed that big girl brain to be like "Hey maybe drinking blood isn't super cool."

All in all, the Touden-Donato sibs have slightly preferenced diets! Though Haize prefers meats, nectar, and citrus fruits while Haru prefers bugs, ground vegetables, citrus fruits, and any/all milk based desserts (he just really likes them). God if these kids ever got their hands on sorbet it would be a disaster, Falin and Marcille would literally spend a week trying to explain why they cant have ice cream for every meal and have to deal with whining dragonets the whole time.

2. Hoarding Instincts

They do have hoarding instincts! Though this is one of those things that differs from dragon to dragon on how they react with it. Light dragons tend to go for the flashiest treasures to make themselves more appealing and alluring, naturally they like the attention they draw in just from an instinctual standard. They frequently discard rusted, unpolished, or just not as eyecatching treasure all the time. They really just arent particular about the whole thing unless they see you have an interest in something they were previously disinterested in- then they're smug assholes who see their treasure as still having some renewed value. So essentially Envy = Worthy to them, but they arent extremely vain creatures despite their hoarding preference and are actually particularly generous within reason. It's very common for light dragons to gift their young, mates, or siblings with treasures from their own hoards or that they've taken for themselves to gift. Typically though the gifting of treasure is to help younger dragons start their own hoard and have an idea of what to go for when out and about for themselves.

That being said, Haru is a greedly little fucker who wants every single new treasure possible, fuck you. He's very grateful for being part elf and tallman because he's aware that he can make his beautiful treasures last long if he polishes, dusts, and cleans them! So his hoard isn't too huge if only because he's good at maintaining things. Still, if he sees something he tends to want it and is often reprimanded for trying to steal shiny gems, jewels, or artifacts just because he likes them- as Haru often gets tired with his new finds extremely quickly if they begin to bore him or don't compare to his other treasures. When it comes to his hoarding he essentially has the dragon equivalent to having eyes bigger than your stomach.

Haize, however, has your more traditional dragon's hoard of miscellanous treasures, artifacts, coins from birthdays, and prized family gifts. Much of her hoard consists of trinkets Haru grew bored with but that she still saw interest in and wanted to give renewed purpose, she isn't nearly as picky but is very curious and likes to inspect an item before taking it in. She'll often let Haru have a treasure knowing that he'll get tired of it within the hour- though she has been known to assert her place as the eldest sibling if there is a gift for her she particularly wants and Haru usually shies off. Haize doesn't assert herself as the eldest often so he knows it's business if she does for things like food or treasure. Haru keeps her hoard partially in and around the her nest as well as the family nest in Falin and Marcille's room! Her nest in the guardian is where she keeps most of her baby clothes, toys, trinkets, and cloths/blankets. She just feels they're safest there and prefers to sleep near them <3.

Also, fun tid bits on how dragons train their kids to gain treasure!: Typically young dragons get the urge to grab and snatch at shiny things as soon as they're able to crawl around functionally and protect themselves- which is pretty early due to them being predators of a mythical variety- so they'll often try and steal treasure from their parent's hoard! Older dragons use this as stealth training for their young and will often guard their treasure, sitting stop or nearby and continuously removing their children until they manage to sneak by successfully to take a trinket. Typically the larger/shiner/whatever is more impressive for the type of dragon you are is what is most rewarded for by parents but they do punish thinking a bit too big. It's good to know your limits! better to have 5 gold coins than 5 gold bricks you cant carry.

so Falin was very often having to train Haru and haize to amass their own treasures which was much easier for Haize due to her slinky and stealthy body allowing for quicker and quieter movement! Haru had to learn to fight, due to his regular baby limbs and range of movement, which didnt really work because he's so itty bitty but the thought was appreciated by Falin, learning to stand your ground is good too!

[barokvanziekscumeater69]

Twisted Karma and His Last Bow

The first part of a excellent conclusion

My thoughts on the final case(s) are kinda scattered because for obvious reasons the 4th chapter isn’t self-contained as the others. It’s only the first day of the trial, with the conclusion coming afterwards. I don’t know why they chopped it considering it would work more or less the same way  (I mean, they half-assed the opening for the final chapter and didn’t even bother to make a proper title card, just opened Canva, chose a fancy-looking font and typed final chapter the cis resolve of ryu)

Interatcting with Kazuma feels uncanny. He is just standing on the office of the person he swore getting revenge on while being a little rude to his “best friend” (im a fan of asoryu on fandom/paper but in canon/pratice Kazuma is just a prick, reacts badly even when Ryu tries giving his armband back)

The whole crime scene makes way to another bigger story. For sure the crime couldn’t be more simple than it looked. For the first time in AA history it makes a lot of sense arresting Barok because everyone down there heard the gunshot after he entered and there was a pistol  laying beside him (Jigoku having the exact same model is stupid tho, couldn’t they have issued another different model in this span of years?)

Considering Jigoku again, the witnesses are being stupid again. Weren’t they shown a picture of the victim in the first place? Anyone with a brain could see the obvious difference between Gregson and the judge, who is way bulkier and taller than him. The wig managing to confuse three whole people, one of them being a former prison warden with a keen eye for detail, is another silly plot point. Doesn’t ruin the fun for me, but it makes the whole logic trip on its feet rather quickly.

I shouldn’t be that happy on having jurors return as named characters, but i liked the yaoi woman from the last trial way too much for her to be forgotten. They're repeating the jurors almost make sense economically wise considering they’d have to make five new designs for one-off characters on each chapter. 

The Vigil lady is very stupid. How did she not notice her husband was slowly becoming poorer overnight? They could’ve at least sat down and talked about it, but this would take the magic away from the case, and she accepts him and his weird friends in the end, so I guess that doesn’t really matter

It’s order from above this, order from above that. If you didn’t realize that Stronghart was the big bad in 1-3 you probably had a lobotomy, twice. Even I (stupid with capital C) noticed it.

Gina didn’t deserve losing the probably single parental figure she had so soon. I’ve said it before and will say it many times as needed, but her journey of an untrusting girl to accepting that there are people out there that want to help her is beautiful.

The small room in a fucked up corner of London vibe is awesome. For final cases we usually get those very memorable places that just scream finale (the Bigg Building/Grand Tower from AAI2, the Embassy from AAI1, Dusky Bridge and in a lesser scale the tomb from 6-5) but here we have a key character that gets dispatched in someone’s flat. I love it

The red-headed league are on my “annoying as fuck witnesses” but their dynamic is alright. Not bad for the Skullkin brothers because their cheering doesn’t have sound. Just wish they got a little more involved in the case rather than just mauling Dailey Vigil and getting arrested for massive fraud.

The whole Vigil reveal is kinda insane. He was made a scapegoat in his last job and never knew the whole extent of everything that went down in his last execution. Pieced together with the suicide attempt and the fact that the prison director didn’t give a single fuck about him. It also amazed me how did he manage to make such a perfect lip made from whatever fatty material he had his hands on. How did Venus not notice?

Also, it’s the first time I was empathic towards a witness. Sandwich made me feel bad, considering the bus driver just wanted to make a little more money on the late night rides, and now he’s fucking homeless. Had to do a double take the first time I saw him on the stand, but holy shit, unemployment hit him hard. Also, why was his previous boss a photographer for the Waterloo hotel?

Maria Gorey is also interesting. Her mother was pretty much a one-off character like she is here (she only gives some testimony at the start of the next chapter) but she already shows the resolve to be different from her mother and do stuff her own way. And I’m pleased she has something more to her personality rather than just being the gothic Victorian girl that likes dead bodies way too much. Also, how fun is that Gregson would have his life indirectly saved from the fish in his coat pocket? He really clenched like his life into the fish like his life depended on it lol

The Iris’ father situation made me stumped a little. Considering we had bigger stuff to deal with, I’m surprised they shoved the matter of Mikotoba having read the Baskerville story before in the end of the case rather than the beginning. 

[snowyroads]

Hello, I'm about to go on a yapping session about my feelings on different football rpf ships because i'm up and can't sleep! :) grab your popcorn and get ready. I also just want to do this cuz i feel like i haven't given y'all an insight on what goes on in my brain.🧍🏻‍♀️(i started this last night when i was half asleep lol)

joemarr- THIIISSS ONE! okay, clearly this is one of my favorites. (if you couldn't tell from my mass postings about them or amount of fics i have) i feel like a lot of ppl have different opinions on their dynamic and somehow I agree with every single one. i think every since LSU days, Ja'marr has worked on Joe getting out of shell. not to call Joe introverted (because we all know that man could get it) I just think at the beginning with him being new to the team and not knowing where he fitted in, Ja'marr was the one there for him and take him under his wing essentially. THEN, I think Joe did the same thing for Ja'marr when he got drafted to the Bengals. because dude literally told his coach to choose Ja'marr. (some fan behavior right there) and when ppl were starting to doubt Ja'marr's abilities as a WR, Joe was immediately there to back his man up. I also think that little pinky thing they do IS ABSOLUTELY CRAZY. cuz wdym!??? i think i could write a whole essay just about that stupid handshake of theirs. it's something about seeing two grown ass men, join their pinkies together as a sign of 'friendship' and then going on their merry way afterwards like they just didn't interlock their souls together? OH. ALSO, the fact that they don't even call what they have a friendship, they both say relationship when referring to each other. cuz that's totally what normal bros do, yk? GIVE ME A BREAK. WE KNOW WHAT YALL ARE. the clothes buying? the teasing each other? Joe wearing JA’MARR’S JERSEY!? ok im not even done with everything i have to say about them but we'll leave it there for now.

Stefon/Josh- they actually make me want to scream. when i actually first found out about football rpf, they were the first ship i read about and i fell IN LOVE. but i found out about them too late and only got to enjoy two years of them together before the divorce. HAHAHA. (it's actually not even remotely funny) One of the best moments i think i saw between the two of them was when Josh was giving a pre-game speech one time and Stefon was so hyped, he jumped up and helmet bumped Josh's chest. wanna guess what happened next? at the next pre-game speech, Josh put his hand on Stefon's helmet to 'calm' him and stop him from making any unnecessary head bumps. Another moment that was crazy to me was the amount of just touching the two of them would do. like they always had to be connected in some way! AND the hugs after that lions game, the one where Josh literally looked like he couldn't breathe until he got his arms around Stef? WTF. THEY MAKE ME SIIICK. how you go from saying you wanna grow old with someone to giving him a half hug after a game? HUH? i just have to tell myself that they actually text everyday and that the side eye was just for dramatic publicity. Stefon will always be my #1 DIVA! <3.

koc/jj- okay, this one is still kinda new for me BUT it aint hard to tell what's going on with these two. for one, KEVIN IS SO FINE. IDCCC. shit i don't blame you Justin. AND JUSTIN IS JUST SOOO. UGH. he's the definition of babygirl. which is crazy cuz i never thought i would see a WR and go "babygirl?" BUT W JJ I DID. and then i just think Kevin can't help himself when he's around Justin. Always all up on him and in each other's personal space. like damn we get it. we all wanna fuck that old man. and we all think jj deserves to be treated like the princess he is! which makes them perfect for each other. It also just automatically has that tension to it because they are a coach and player relationship, so it gives "we can't get caught" ANYWAYS, ik there is so much more with them too but that's all i can think about right now.

Mike/Tua- ALRIGHT, they don't get the recognition they deserve! and i think that's because they don't have a lot of moments between them but when they do, it's big and they go viral. like the head kiss we got after Tua’s concussion (which i actually hope he thinks about his life before a career in football) and they have that same coach/player dynamic like koc and jj. also, i think Mike McDaniel is too hot for his own good. mhm. especially when he wears those glasses. OMG. anyway, im getting ahead of myself. Tua is literally the sweetest human being ever too and i remember watching hard knocks last season and their relationship and chemistry is just…WOW. (which is also why i can’t wait till this year’s with the Bengals comes out) idk how to explain it.

Brock/Fred- once again, they are both fine AF. ITS INSANE. also, size difference goes crazy. ANYWAYS. (there’s not a lot on them either so this is more just what i feel about them) Brock being Mr. Irrelevant and being the last pick in the draft, going from sitting on the bench as a 3rd string QB to STARTING is so personal to me. and he was scared as hell having to start so randomly in the season but Fred was there to pick him up when he was down and give him all the confidence he needs! Fred being a vet and teaching Brock how to be confident in himself and his abilities to be the best QB for their team. AND THEN, Brock takes them to not just one but two superbowls!? (ik they didn’t win but still it counts for something) i also just find Brock/Fred to be the definition of golden retriever and black cat energy. Brock’s the golden retriever ofc (have yall seen that clip of him saying “hi mom!” to the camera?? OMFG) Then Fred is the black cat because he’s always so nonchalant to me. like when the camera pans to him on the sideline, dudes got a straight face as they’re winning like 34-10 (ik that hasn’t rly happened this season but we move on) BUT YEAH, yall see the vision right??

okay if you’ve made it this far tysm!! <3 these football men make me crazy. i hope yall enjoyed my yapping session and feel free to ask or share anything!! <33

[jaxxsoxxn]

I can just imagine them facing against scarecrow and scarecrow being you know using his toxic fumes being fear, making boomerang remember that day so clearly and vividly and boomer gets so pissed he tackled scarecrow in the ground and starts beating him, beating him in like until he’s almost to death and Harley and Floyd has to like Get him off of him so he won’t kill scarecrow and Boomer is just screaming at scarecrow

 you fucker how dare you piece of shit you’re gonna die for that and Floyd and Harleys trying their best to keep boomer at bay because of that they have to ask for back up you can choose who they have asked for back up

Oh, and if you want, you can add some of your boomerflash 

Also, you’re the best of making boomerflash head cannons and stories your apps your pieces are beautiful French kiss 💋

kisses!!! <33 thank ya, the brain rot feeds off them, so I'm happy with every little idea thrown my way.

---

In defense of Harley, she had no way to know that when Scarecrow decided to test his "new" gas on them (in a safe space, after he got "recruited" too), apparently this one showing off old fears instead of creating new ones, whatever that meant, Boomer would be hit with something... like that.

Through most of the experiment, few chosen heroes around them to help if needed, Digger was the only "normal" one. He stood still, almost peacefully, if you ignored the shaking hands and short breaths. Maybe it was the fact that they knew it's all a hallucination, maybe it was the fact that the person responsible was right next to them, but when it all finally broke away, when most started trying to get some water and calm themselves with help, the first thing he did was jump Jonathan.

The first hit wasn't the thing that broke the shock of heroes and others around them - it was the sound of a breaking bone that did it. A pain-filled whine left Scarecrow, when he tried to use his claw-like gloves to tear the Australian away, his whole body mass keeping them down, while he punched almost blindly. He was angrily half screaming, half mumbling something about Owen, whom Harley herself didn't know exactly.

But Flash, who was the first one to try to hold Digger back, definitely knew. Most people who aren't dragging Crane away to make sure he'll survive probably notice the way his eyes go wide at the suffering screams that slowly turn into whispers full of bitterness. His hands, now bloody from the scientist, shaking rapidly and trying to hold onto something - failing to do so. Barry has his arms intertwined with the Rouge's elbows, holding him behind while clinging to him and trying to calm him down.

But when he does get calm, it doesn't mean his brain is fully caught up with what happened exactly, so all they hear now, less shaky and unfocused, are the words of horrid truth that Boomer saw.

"...How could they do that? They took my boy-" this time only a few people freeze, Flash now slowly working his way to the ground with trembling Boomer in his arms. "They took my boy, he was only eight-! How could they? What did he do to deserve it?"

Floyd, water bottle in hand, gets closer to the man, brushing his wet from sweat hair up, showing his blurry green eyes clearer. Shark looks angrily at the bloodied up scientist for a second, a protective urge firing deep inside, before he gets on the floor next to the two, touching Digger without grabbing him, being more something to rest up on than anything.

And when he continues, this time words just... giving up, changing between sobs and empty anger, Harley joins up. She walks straight at him, until she's right in front of him, her shoes almost touching his. Steadily, she sits down right there, looks her friend in the eyes and waits for him to ground himself, doing her best to ignore the hurt sounds coming from him and the few words that crawl their way out of his closed up throat.

"...He was so small, y'know? His body was so light-" a sob shook him, making Barry change his hold, from holding him back to just having his arms around him and his head rest on his back. "They took him from my arms to check for pulse, but- but they didn't have to take him to the hospital - too late, they said. Too much blood, he stopped breathing fifteen minutes before their arrival. I couldn't get his blood out of my hands, it's still stuck under my nails- I need to, I need to wash my hands-"

Another attack of weeping stops him, while all they do is be here, for now. Somewhere in the back, the rest of the heroes takes care of Crane and talks to Flag, who has a grimace on his face and a glint of understanding in his eyes - it probably was in Boomer's files, knowing how they like to have all possible information. Doesn't make it less dehumanizing.